The Dawn of a Dream (21 page)

Mama dashed over. “Belle telegraphed us about your illness. Thank the Lord that you’re here safely.” She placed a hand on Luellen’s cheek and kissed her.

Turning to Belle, she said, “Bless you for accompanying her. I know you’ve delayed your own homecoming.”

“I couldn’t let her make the journey by herself.” She sent a mock frown in Luellen’s direction. “And she would have, I’m quite sure.”

“Once she makes up her mind . . .” Mama’s voice trailed off.

Papa helped Luellen into the buggy. “You wait here. We’ll leave as soon as the baggage is unloaded.”

Her arrival at the house wasn’t marked by the festivities that greeted her at Christmas. Papa drove the buggy around to the back door and helped her inside. To her surprise, Franklin and Ward waited in the kitchen. Vaguely, she remembered Franklin’s letter mentioning a planned visit to Beldon Grove.

Her brother blanched when he saw her. “You look like you been chawed up and spit out. Belle telegraphed that you were sick, but—” He sought Papa’s face. “What’s she got?”

“Soon’s I know, I’ll tell you.” He clipped off the words. “First we need to get her to bed.”

“Let me help you, sir,” Ward said, stepping forward. He’d lost his ruddy look, and appeared thinner. His left arm hung straight from his shoulder.

In spite of her own misery, Luellen felt a pang when she met his haunted eyes. What happened to the confident officer she’d first met?

Mama entered the bedroom, carrying a vase laden with late-season lilacs. Their heady fragrance filled the air. “Ellie stopped by with these before church. She sends her love, but couldn’t stay for a visit. I’ll put them on the bureau.”

“Tell her thank you.” Luellen pushed herself up on one elbow. The effort left her trembling. Morning sun flared across the bed, igniting the flowers on her quilt in a blaze of crimson. “I’m sorry you and Papa had to miss services.”

“The Lord will understand.” Mama smiled. “Belle went with Franklin and Ward, so our family will be represented.”

“When did Papa say Dr. Gordon is coming?”

“Any minute now. Do you want me to help you into a fresh gown?”

“Please.” She leaned forward while Mama tugged off her damp nightgown and replaced it with one smelling of sunlight. Exhausted, Luellen fell back onto the pillow. “I’ll sleep until he arrives,” she murmured, eyes closing.

A short while later, voices in the hallway roused her. Papa entered the room first, followed by Beldon Grove’s new doctor. A small man, he sported a beard and a head of carroty red hair. He wore a wrinkled black jacket over a blue-striped shirt with a fold-down collar. In one hand he carried a bulging satchel, which he plopped on the bureau next to the lilacs.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss McGarvie. I’m Dr. Gordon. Angus Gordon to my friends, like your father here.”

Luellen sought Papa’s eyes, still mystified as to why he wouldn’t treat her.

“I don’t trust myself, Lulie,” he said, reading her mind. “I’m too close to you to be objective.”

“Don’t you worry, lass. Karl and I went to the same school of medicine. I finished two years ago, so I know some new tricks.” He grinned and drew a stethoscope from his bag. “I need to ask you to unfasten the ribbons at the neck of your garment, please.”

His manner changed from jocular to professional when he placed the cold chest piece of the instrument against her skin. “Take a deep breath now.”

Luellen sucked air into her lungs and immediately bent double, coughing. Dr. Gordon spread his fingers across her back and supported her until the spasm ended. Once she was resettled on the pillow, he patted her hand and turned to Papa. “Lung fever, without a doubt.”

“I thought so too. She’s been sick most of the week, according to her friend. Fever and chills. Coughing fits.”

“If it’s been that long, she may be near the crisis point.” He angled his gaze at Luellen. “I’d say you’ll be on the mend in a few more days.” His eyes strayed to the mound of her pregnancy under the quilt. “With your permission, I’d like to examine you further. When is your baby expected?”

“Before the end of the month.” Luellen paused to take a shallow breath and then gave voice to her deepest fear. “Has my . . . lung fever . . . harmed my child?”

Dr. Gordon folded the bedding aside and laid his hands on her nightgown-covered abdomen. His fingers probed the position of the baby. “I feel movement. I believe your child will be perfectly healthy. But it’s too soon to know for certain.”

He replaced his stethoscope in the satchel. “I’ll be back to check on you in a day or two. In the interim, you must observe complete rest—for your sake and the child’s.”

Franklin sprawled on a chair next to Luellen’s bed, moccasined feet stuck out in front of him. “Things are too quiet around here since Belle went home.”

“I miss her too.” She shifted to relieve an ache in her lower back. “Mama said you went strolling together in the evenings. I’m glad you were here to entertain her.” As she said the words, Luellen knew she meant them.

“No hardship, I assure you.” He sat forward. “Now that your fever’s gone, will the doc let you come downstairs?”

“I have to wait until after the baby comes. He said I could walk up and down the hallway to keep my legs strong, but no stairs.” She scooted higher on the pillows, wincing when a spasm crossed her abdomen.

“That doctor looks like a leprechaun, doesn’t he? Short and red-haired. All that’s missing is a little green cap.” Franklin’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

Luellen giggled. “Don’t let Papa hear you. He thinks highly of Dr. Gordon.”

“Not highly enough to see him about his breathing problems.”

She sobered. “He’s worse than he was when I was home this winter.” She felt heaviness in her belly and sudden warmth between her legs. Muscles in her groin rippled. Luellen clutched the edge of the quilt. All the horror stories she’d heard about childbirth pounded through her mind. “I think the baby’s coming. Call Papa.”

The chair clattered backward as Franklin sprang to his feet, face pale. “Stay right there.” He dashed from the room.

Luellen couldn’t help but smile. Where did he think she’d go?

Franklin’s voice spiraled down the staircase. “Mama! Luellen’s having the baby. Right now! Where’s Papa?”

Mama’s voice followed Franklin’s into the room. “Papa’s in his office. After you tell him, go get Dr. Gordon. And Franklin—”

“What?”

“Babies take awhile. Slow down and catch your breath.”

After a moment, Mama arrived in the doorway. “Are the pains close together?” She stepped next to the bed and smoothed Luellen’s hair away from her brow.

“Every couple of minutes. I thought I was just having settling pains this morning, but—” She paused while a contraction seized her abdomen. “My water broke. I’m scared, Mama.”

Her mother’s soft palm rested against Luellen’s forehead. “You’re going to be fine,” she said, but her voice wavered. “Papa should be here soon.”

“I’m here now.” Her father strode to the bedside, his pale face telegraphing concern. “How are you feeling, Lulie?”

“The pain—it’s worse by the moment.”

His hand shook when he reached for hers. “That’s normal, unfortunately. Dr. Gordon’s on his way.” Papa’s blue eyes misted. “I’ll stay right here with you, but—”

“Papa is too attached to you to be much help, is what he’s trying to say.” Mama patted her husband’s cheek. She pointed to the chair that Franklin had upset when he dashed from the room.

“Why don’t you sit, Karl? I’ll run downstairs for towels and put the kettle on.” She raised the window. “This breeze should help you feel comfortable,” she said to Luellen.

May air stroked Luellen’s perspiring face. “Thank you.” She drew a deep breath and waited for a contraction to pass.

When Dr. Gordon arrived, he plopped his leather satchel on top of the bureau. “So, here comes the little one. How far apart are your bearing pains?”

“Seems like every minute—I’m not sure.”

He tipped his head toward Papa, who still clutched her hand. “Aren’t you timing them?”

“No. I didn’t think of it.” He fumbled in his pocket and withdrew his watch. The gold case glinted in the morning light when he clicked the cover open.

Dr. Gordon scrutinized Papa’s face. “I don’t want two patients. Maybe you’d be better off downstairs with your son and his friend.”

He drew a shaky breath. “I promised Luellen. I’m staying here.”

A pungent odor of sweat lingered over the bed when the doctor laid the squalling infant on Luellen’s abdomen. “He’s a healthy lad. Just listen to those lungs.”

Exhausted, she touched the baby’s mop of wet black curls with a trembling fingertip. “Hello, David. You’re beautiful.” Luellen didn’t think her heart could hold all the love she felt for this tiny red-faced boy.

Mama bent over her and cradled the baby in a towel. “I’ll bathe him and bring him right back.” The setting sun cast a rosy glow over the two of them as she slipped from the room.

The spot where David had rested on her belly felt cold and empty. “Hurry,” Luellen whispered.

Papa stood to one side, shirt collar unbuttoned, while Dr. Gordon completed his ministrations. Once the doctor left the room, Papa leaned down and gathered Luellen in his arms. He rested his cheek against her hair. “Thank you, Lord, for giving us a strong baby and preserving our daughter.” The balm of his fervent prayer washed her in peace.

The next morning Ward hovered in the doorway when Franklin came into the bedroom. “May I see him too? I don’t want to intrude.”

Mama had freshened the room, putting a bouquet of climbing roses on the bureau and folding the quilt over the foot of the bed. Cuddling her blanket-wrapped son in the crook of her right arm, Luellen smiled a welcome. “Please do. David wants to meet my family and friends.”

“You named him David.” Ward approached the bed. “David what?”

“David Karl O’Connell.”

Franklin reared back. “O’Connell! Why would you want any connection to that . . . that . . .”

“He needs a father’s last name. He can’t go through life with people thinking he was born on the wrong side of the blanket.” She held the sleeping infant toward her brother. “Would you like to hold him?”

Franklin clasped David around his shoulders and lifted him straight into the air, the way he would land a fish.

“Not like that.” Ward pushed next to him and slid his right hand under the baby’s head, supporting the body with his left palm.

Alarmed, Luellen watched the exchange. Would Ward’s injured arm be able to withstand David’s weight? She straightened, ready to gather her son back in her arms, just as Ward settled into one of the chairs.

“I’ve got him. Don’t worry.”

“Where did you learn how to hold a baby?” Luellen couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice.

“Well . . . I . . .”

“I’ve got to hear this too,” Franklin said, perching on the edge of the bed. “It’s a safe bet they didn’t teach this at the Academy.”

Ward kept his eyes on David’s sleeping face for a long moment. “I was abandoned as an infant—not much bigger than this little scrap.” He swallowed. “I grew up in a foundling home. When I got to be seven or eight, I was put to work caring for the little ones.” His voice trailed off. When he looked up, his eyes met Luellen’s. She felt she was seeing into his soul.

“I wasn’t adopted until I was twelve, so I had plenty of practice.” He shifted his left leg so his knee supported his weakened arm.

Once Ward had David steadied, she asked, “And then?”

“Obadiah Calder and his wife wanted me. They were older, in their sixties, and needed a son to carry on the Calder name.”

David whimpered.

“Shh, little fellow.” Ward rose and laid the baby in Luellen’s arms. His gaze swept her face. “This little boy is blessed to have a family like yours.”

“Ward—” She reached for his hand.

“I have to work on a report.” His color high, he fled the room.

Franklin stared after him. “All this time I’ve ragged him about making the Army his home, and I never knew . . .”

“You meant no harm.” The open trust in Ward’s eyes had touched a current within her. No wonder he understood how it felt to be the object of gossip and speculation. Undoubtedly he’d experienced many critical slurs as an orphan adopted into a wealthy family. “He wouldn’t have told us about himself if he didn’t feel safe in doing so.”

Her brother nodded. “It’s good for him to be here. The reaction on the post to that duel has hit him hard. Campion’s friends think Ward should’ve been discharged too.”

“Why? Didn’t you say he was copying Ward’s reports?”

“He was. But Campion’s friends don’t know that. Ward won’t say anything in his own defense. Feels he’d be kicking a man when he’s down.”

Luellen thought of the rumors that circulated through the Normal School when her pregnancy came to light. People believed what they wanted to believe.

“I’m glad you brought him home. How long will you stay?”

“He has a week left on medical furlough. Papa’s helping him strengthen his arm. Those quack Army doctors told him not to work it, but Papa says that’s a sure way to end up with a useless limb.”

“He’s the best doctor anywhere. He knows.” Luellen looked down at her sleeping son and dropped a kiss on his dark curls. “Your timing was perfect. You got to meet your nephew—and see Belle.”

Franklin smiled at the mention of Belle’s name. “And I got a bonus today.”

“A bonus?”

“Yes. Now I know how to hold a baby.”

Dr. Gordon allowed Luellen to go downstairs on the last day of Franklin and Ward’s visit. Papa supported her with an arm around her waist, and Mama followed, carrying David. By the time she reached the sitting room, Luellen’s legs trembled with fatigue. The family watched while she grasped the arms of the rocking chair and lowered herself into it. Trickles of perspiration slipped down her temples.

“Why am I so weak?”

“You’ve been bedridden for weeks. You have to get your strength back,” Papa said. “Give it time.”

She reached for David and cuddled him under her chin. Wiggling, he made sucking noises against her neck. “I hope you can help me get stronger the way you’ve helped Ward’s arm. I’ve made plans for earning money this summer.”

Mama and Papa exchanged a glance.

“Earning money for what?” Mama asked.

“To finish school.” Luellen looked up and noticed Ward watching from the doorway.

His worried eyes were fixed on David. “I realize this isn’t my concern, Luellen, but your baby needs you right now.”

“I know that, for heaven’s sake. But I also know a woman who completed her schooling
and
cared for her infant. If she can do it, so can I.”

He stared at her for a moment, then turned and walked away.

“What’s gotten into you?” Mama asked. “You shouldn’t speak rudely to a guest in our home.”

Heat climbed Luellen’s cheeks. “I’m sorry. No one understands how much it means to me to finish. I’ve sacrificed to get this far. I won’t quit now.”

“No doubt Ward’s aware of your ambition.” Mama put her hands on her hips. “What you don’t realize is how much a baby will change your life. These early days of being awakened in the night are just the beginning. From now on, the baby
is
your life.”

“I can do both.” She looked out the window at a carriage traveling toward the train depot.

Ward spoke little during supper, and excused himself after the meal to complete his packing. Luellen knew she couldn’t let him return to the post without apologizing for her sharp-tongued remarks.

Once she’d tucked David into his cradle, she crossed the hallway and knocked. “Ward?”

He opened the door, his expression guarded. A valise rested on the bed with a stack of clothing folded nearby.

“I want to apologize for my rudeness this afternoon. I had no call to speak to you like that.”