Nella's words brought Kizzie's gaze to hers. “What … what do you mean?”
“The baby ain't gonna stay inside forever, girl. And I reckon you didn't lose your water in the sense you're thinkin’.” She released a long sigh. “It's likely the beginnings of the baby comin’, so there ain't no use pretendin’.”
Kizzie's eyes pinched closed. “I've … I've tried to hide it.”
Another sigh drew Kizzie's attention to Nella. “I had my suspicions a month afore you left …” Her gaze dropped to Kizzie's small round stomach, made all the more prominent by the way the dress curved around her in her sitting position. “You can hide a lot behind an apron, but women know. Though you ain't gained near to nothin’ with this baby, so I can see how you could keep it a secret for a while.” Her gaze flitted to Kizzie's face. “But Mr. Charlie's interest in you ain't been no secret.”
Kizzie's smile wavered into place. “He says he loves me.”
Nella's brows tipped, her expression saying something she didn't voice, but whatever it was stripped Kizzie's smile right off her face.
“And you ain't sure how far along you are?”
Kizzie shook her head. “No, but I've felt the baby movin’ since summer.”
“Summer?” Nella rocked back on her heels, studying Kizzie with more intensity. “When did you have your courses last?”
Kizzie looked away. Nobody talked so openly about such a thing.
“Ain't no use in gettin’ prudish now, Miss Kizzie, not with your baby on the way.” Nella stood. “We need to know how to prepare.”
How to prepare?
One of the unfortunate by-products of moving down to the Morgan farm to work as a housemaid meant leaving her mama's gentle instruction behind, but even her mama didn't talk about courses or how babies came to be. Though Kizzie had learned the latter one on her own. “I've never been good at tracking it, since it don't seem to come regular like my sisters’ do, but I … I ain't had one since early spring.” Another pain took her breath, deeper, sharper.
Nella waited for the pain to pass and then took Kizzie by the arm. “We need to get a place ready for you and that baby.” She walked Kizzie through a tiny door to a room with a large bed in the center. Likely Nella and Joshua's room. “When Ruth gets back we'll have you chew on some willow bark to help ease the pain, but ain't nothin’ gonna take the pain away. Givin’ birth is one of the hardest pains God made. Here's hopin’ for your sake, it'll be short. But ’twould be wise for you to walk or stand as long as you're able, to move the birthin’ on.” She took Kizzie by the shoulder, her expression sobering. “And since we don't know how far along you are, then it'd be wise to prepare yourself.”
Kizzie looked up from bracing her hand against the iron spindles at the end of the bed. “What do you mean?”
Nella rounded the bed, bringing another blanket from a simple wardrobe on the other side of the room. “The stress of the walk and the chase with the coyotes could have put you into early birthin’, and the baby may not be ready to be borned.”
Not ready to be borned?
All warmth fled Kizzie's body.
If the baby ain't ready to be borned …?
The baby would die.
Nella stepped close, her lips pinched. “You ain't heard much about bein’ with child?”
“Only enough to make me wonder or scared.”
Nella's lips twitched. “Those are both good and human feelings, and that's a fact.” She frowned, capturing Kizzie's gaze in her own steel one. “You listen to me, girl. Listen to me, and we'll sort this out with the Almighty's help. You hear?”
Kizzie nodded, squeezing the bed spindle tighter as the pain swelled all around her middle now. How she needed God's help. But she dared not ask. If her own father wouldn't offer forgiveness, why would God?
She'd sinned against Him and her family and even this little baby.
Why would He want anything good for her at all?
She leaned forward, holding on to the bed through another pain.But for the baby, God? Would You help take care of the baby? He ain't done nothin’ wrong. Please.
If the Almighty wouldn't listen to Kizzie's prayer, maybe He'd listen to Nella's … and save this baby.
A new cry broke through Kizzie's.
Small, high-pitched, and loud.
