Someone Like You (29 page)

When she finished reading, Susannah put the letter down. “Carpenter. Do you think my father was J. D. Carpenter?”

“I am certain of it. If you look at the date of the letter and count a few months forward you will end up at your birthday.”

Reed showed her the other letters and the Bible. Then they settled into a discussion of the possibilities of what might have happened, considering the events that would have prompted her mother to do what she did. He told her about her father’s brother and how he had come to Bluebonnet after her father’s death, looking for her mother.

“You think she was afraid of him, afraid for us?”

“I am sure that’s what she thought, and apparently for good reason. I doubt your uncle was looking for her to console her.”

“She went to New Orleans out of fear for both of our lives,” Susannah said. “It makes perfect sense. I think she was afraid to go back home to Mississippi, because she was afraid of what Warren might do.”

“So she lost herself and her soul in a bordello in New Orleans, knowing he would never dream of her doing so, that he wouldn’t think of looking for her there.”

“Oh, Reed, she did love me.”

“She must have loved you very much to do what she did.”

The discovery made Susannah cry. It did not undo the awful years she and her mother had endured, but it made them more understandable. “I realize now,” she sobbed, “that I can forgive her. I can finally forgive my mother. I feel so sorry that I didn’t know, that I carried this grudge against her for so long.”

“Sorry? Why should you feel sorry? You didn’t know the truth.”

“Don’t you see, Reed? The woman I have always accused of having never done anything for me actually went to great lengths to protect me.”

Reed put his arms around her. “Don’t cry overmuch, sweetheart.”

“Oh, Reed, how can I ever thank you? You have given me my past.”

“Maybe I can give you even more,” he said. “I’ll see the judge in town tomorrow. I want to check things out. I want to find out about this plantation and your uncle Warren Carpenter.”

Susannah looked pensive for a moment. Then she said, “I don’t want you to do that, Reed. I have what I need most, and that is the knowledge that J. D. Carpenter was my father and that I’m legitimate. I have proof now that my mother loved me more than herself. The rest is part of the past. Let’s leave it there.”

“Don’t you want to know? Don’t you wonder why your mother chose a life of prostitution over being a maid or a shop clerk?”

“There was a time when I wondered about all that, but not anymore. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life trying to find answers to those old questions. My mother did what she did because she felt it was the only way, or the best way. I have to trust her judgment. I want us to go forward, not back into the past.”

“You aren’t even curious?”

“No. We can speculate all we want, but we’ll just have to accept the fact that we won’t ever know why my mother was so desperate that her only option was a bordello.”

“If you’re certain that’s what you want…”

“I am. You are my future.” She put her hand on her stomach. “You and our baby.” She reached out, took his hand. “I am content to leave it at that.”

“Without a doubt?”

“Without any doubt whatsoever. I know the best years of our lives are ahead of us.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

As the time of her travail drew near, Reed lived with the consuming fear that something would happen to Susannah. He was not a born pessimist, but experience had taught him to expect the worst. And the worst was that there would be complications when it came time for Susannah to give birth. He could not go through that again. He could not lose Susannah. He could not face life without her.

It wasn’t his intent to worry her, but he could not help himself. He became withdrawn. It was only her infinite patience and compassion that enabled him to face each morning knowing this might be the day, only her love and depth of understanding that comforted him each night when he fell asleep with a prayer of thanks on his lips—thanks that he had made it through another day without being called to face the most difficult moment in his life.

Susannah, ever the optimist, obviously understood this and said to him more than once, “Reed, there is nothing to worry about. Everything will be fine. I feel it in my very bones. Nothing is going to happen to me…or to our child.”

He had always been told that optimism was contagious. He earnestly wished that were true, but no matter how much he wished it upon himself, her jubilant optimism never rubbed off on him. He wanted to believe her. Desperately. But the question lingered. What if…?

The answer arrived with Susannah’s first moan of pain.

For the past week Susannah had been feeling restless. One morning she awoke and said, “I feel lightheaded and shaky. Do you think it’s the baby’s time?”

Reed was jolted awake by her words. According to his calculations, the baby was not due for another three or four weeks. He did not tell her that. Instead, he leaned over and gave her a kiss and said, “Only time will answer that. Babies do not always adhere to the doctor’s schedule.”

She placed her hands on her enormous stomach and spoke loudly. “Well, I for one am ready for this birth.”

“Who are you talking to—me, or the folks in town?”

“I’m speaking to our son.”

“Oh, and how do you know it’s a boy?”

“I know. Call it woman’s intuition.”

Thankfully, Susannah did not give birth and Reed closed his eyes that night with yet another prayer of thanks. A few hours later, he realized his gratitude had been a bit premature.

It was half past three in the morning when Reed awoke to Susannah’s discomfort. The moment he heard her first moan, his thoughts were on her and the child she was bringing into the world.

After a particularly vicious spasm gripped her, Reed assured Susannah, reminding her that he would be there with her. A short time later, he slipped out of their bedroom and went upstairs to wake her aunts, who had been staying with them for the past week, so they would be on hand at this moment. They were there to comfort Susannah, but to Reed’s surprise, their presence was a comfort to him as well.

“Is the baby coming?” Violette asked the moment she opened her bedroom door, her long gray braid hanging over her left shoulder, her eyes remarkably bright and alert for one just yanked from the depths of sleep.

“Yes, but it will be a while yet.”

“We’ll be right down,” she said.

Reed went back to Susannah, unable to believe the day they had waited so long for had finally arrived. Susannah’s pains were coming closer together. Soon she would be well into her labor.

Reed was there with her, never leaving her side for a moment, but after several hours of painful contractions, he gave her another examination. The baby was turned, with one foot in the birth canal. He realized that what he had feared the most was happening. No matter how many contractions she had or how long she stayed in labor, Susannah would not have a normal delivery. The only chance to save her and the baby was to deliver their child by cesarean.

The old memories came rushing back and he saw himself cutting into the flesh of a woman he loved. His hands began to perspire and his heartbeat escalated, in spite of all he did to remain calm. The simple fact was, he would have to remove his child from Susannah through an abdominal incision.

Could he do it?
No! Please God! Not again!

Memories of Philippa flashed through his mind. It’s too much, too similar to the time before, he thought.
I can’t do it. I can’t risk losing Susannah. I could not live with her blood on my hands.

He looked down at Susannah’s pale face, her beautiful features distorted with pain.

“What’s wrong?” Dahlia asked.

“The baby is coming out wrong…feet first.” His hands trembled. Fear gripped him.

“Can you turn it?” Violette asked.

“I’ve tried.”

Susannah moaned and began to thrash about in the bed. “Please…please… Help me, Reed. It hurts so.”

He would withstand the horrors of hell, the agony of torture for her. He would die for her. Anything but this. He felt nauseated. His hands were shaking so badly now that he doubted he could even deliver a baby the normal way.

“She is depending on you,” Dahlia said. “We’re all depending on you.”

“I can’t.”

Susannah was panting and thrashing about more than before. When she rolled to her side, he saw the bright-red blood beneath her. He rolled her over and examined her again.

God… No… Please, no. Not this. Not this time. Not again. Don’t ask this of me.

“You can’t let her die,” Violette said coldly.

“Oh, God!” Dahlia said. “Not this way.”

The words ripped him apart. The reality that he was losing Susannah was as effective as a slap in his face. Her pain tore into him. The baby was breech and Susannah was bleeding to death. He knew she would die if he didn’t act soon. He looked at his medical bag, then at the instruments on the tray beside the bed.
God, give me the courage. I can’t let her die without trying. Help me. Give me the courage…please.

The courage came at last, and when it did, it came to him through Susannah.

Weak and in pain though she was, she must have realized what he was feeling, for at that moment she put her pale, trembling hand on his arm and whispered weakly, “You must do what you know is best. Don’t think about what happened before. I love you. I know it will be different this time. I trust you, Reed. I know you will do the right thing.”

He looked at Dahlia. “Hand me that can of ether and some cotton.”

Dahlia handed it to him, and Reed doused the cotton and put it over Susannah’s nose.

Susannah lay still, her thrashing and moaning ceased. Reed stared down at her. Remembering her words of love and trust, he picked up the knife. After a few agonizing moments, he cut into the flesh of the woman he loved more than life. He knew that if anything happened to her, he would join her in death. He would not, could not live without her. It was her love that guided him now, her faith that gave him the courage to go on.

Fifteen minutes later, Reed triumphantly delivered a live and kicking baby boy.

He held the baby in his arms and turned to hand him to Violette. But Violette wasn’t there.

“Here, I’ll take him,” Dahlia said, coming quickly to take the baby.

“Where’s Vi?”

Dahlia indicated with a nod of her head.

Violette was stretched out on the floor, flat on her back. “What happened?”

“Ether.”

Reed saw a wad of cotton lying in her limp hand. “Curiosity got the best of her?”

“Nope, it wasn’t that,” Dally said. “She couldn’t bear the sight of all that blood.”

When Susannah woke up, Reed made certain he was the first thing she saw. “I love you,” he said.

“I told you,” she responded weakly.

He leaned down closer and asked, “You told me what?”

“That everything would be all right. You should have trusted me.”

He kissed her. “Next time, I will.”

Dahlia came to stand beside him with their son in her arms. “I suppose you want to hold your baby.”

Susannah’s face was radiant. “Yes,” she said. “Oh, yes!”

Reed took his son and handed him to her. Susannah kissed his soft, downy head, then looked from Reed to her aunts, who stood proudly beside him.

“At last,” she said. “I have a real family.” Tears rolled down her face. “After all this time, I finally have a family.”

Reed smiled. “You have the
beginnings
of a family. There is more to come.”

“I’ll do my part,” she said.

He laughed. “So will I.” He placed his hand on her forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Like a mother.”

He sat down next to her.

“We need to think of a name.”

“You did all the work bringing him into the world,” he said, and kissed her softly. “I think it only fair that you should name him.”

“Well, we could name him after you or your father. Or we could name him after my father.” Susannah smiled and Reed could tell by the fight in her eyes that she had come up with a name.

Suddenly he had a horrible thought. She wouldn’t dare… Or would she?

He studied his wife’s face, remembering this was the woman who conked him over the head and tied him up. She would. God help him, she would.

“Susannah,” he said like a warning.

She smiled at him sweetly. “Yes, love?”

“Not a flower,” he said, praying.

She nodded. “But, it’s a family tradition.”

“I know, but—”

“Reed Garrett! Are you going back on your word? You said I could name him.”

Reed gulped. He was trapped. All he could do was nod. He closed his eyes against the horror of hearing his son had been named Weed or Dandelion.

“How about Sweet William?” Violette said. “It has a nice ring to it.”

Reed groaned. She couldn’t stick their son with a first name like Sweet could she? And come to think on it, wasn’t that what she named one of those piglets?
Please God. Please don’t let her name our son after a pig.

Susannah smiled and kissed her son’s tiny fingers. “Sweet William. I like that.”

“I prefer Johnny Jump-up,” Dahlia said.

Susannah nodded and said, “Johnny Jump-up.”

Reed wasn’t too enamored with that name either, but it was infinitely better than naming his son after a pig, so he nodded enthusiastically.

“I don’t know,” Susannah said. “Johnny Jump-up is nice, but I really do like Sweet William.”

Reed was about to reach for the ether when Susannah looked at him. She must have found something amusing in his expression, for she laughed and said, “I like both names. How about we call him John William?”

“Yes!” Reed let out a relieved sigh. There was a benevolent God. “Yes…yes…yes…” In his enthusiasm he was a bit loud and John William began to cry.

Violette took the baby and rocked him in her arms until he quieted. Then she and Dahlia put him in the crib next to the bed. The two of them looked back at Reed and Susannah, nodded, and went quietly from the room.

Reed heard the door click as they shut it behind them. He looked down at his sleeping son. Happiness washed over him. He reached for Susannah’s hand and kissed it as he told her how much he loved her, how very happy she had made him. “I have loved you all my life, it seems, but never more than I love you right now.”

“When did you know?” she asked. “When did you know you loved me?”

He kissed each of her fingers. “I can’t remember. It wasn’t something that happened all of a sudden. It was a gradual thing.”

He saw the disappointment on her face and realized how important it was to her. He thought back. “I think the first inkling I had was a time when I watched you when you were unaware. I remember thinking that I could overcome my past and find the courage to face the future, to start over, if only I had…”

“Someone like you,” she whispered.

Reed took her in his arms. Suddenly his attention was distracted by the sound of Daffodil’s frenzied honking.

John William began to cry again.

“I know your aunts meant well, but sometimes I wish they hadn’t been so charitable as to give us Daffy for a wedding present.” He reached into the crib and picked up his crying son and handed him to his mother.

“But she’s such a lovable goose. I’m sure our son will love her as much as I do.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said and kissed her soundly. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for giving me my life back, for more happiness than I deserve.”

Susannah kissed the baby’s head and began to soothe him. John William grew quiet.

“A mother’s touch.”

“And a father’s love.” She reached for his hand and there, in the presence of their slumbering son, two people who had been nothing more than two empty halves, laughed, realizing they were now whole.

Outside the sun was setting and the rooster crowed. They could hear the mighty flapping of wings, then a blaring honk followed by a loud crash, then a series of dazed honks.

Susannah and Reed laughed.