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"Yes, if that's what you want." Alanna remained by the bed, but Melissa closed her eyes and didn't speak again. She had grown so pale, Alanna called Polly. "Please, come look at her."
Polly wrung out a cloth in the bowl on the washstand before she approached the bed. She used it to wipe Melissa's face, and then she, too, grew alarmed. "Miss Melissa, honey? Look at me." When there was no response to her request, she drew back the covers.
The lower half of Melissa's nightgown was soaked with blood.
Polly began to scream. Rachel fainted. Alanna's mind played a cruel trick on her, sending her back in time to an afternoon eleven years earlier. She had a bunch of wildflowers in her hand, and was humming softly as she came through the front door of her home, but the safe haven she had expected was gone, and she was greeted by a nightmare that had taken years to recede.
It wasn't until Ian shoved her aside that she realized she was no longer a terrified child, but the stench of death filled the room, and she feared her dear cousin was already gone.
Chapter 13
"Your wife's hemorrhage couldn't have been anticipated or averted, Captain. Had I been at her bedside, I would have been as helpless as you were to save her. It's a miracle you had the presence of mind to save your son. You ought to be more th
an just grateful for his birth, celebrate it. Had you not been so quick to act, you would have lost them both. What a terrible tragedy that would have been."
Too numbed by grief to benefit from the physician's comfort, Ian could only stare at him blankly. "You should have been here," he agonized. "I never should have entrusted Melissa's care to a cook. That was my mistake, and it cost Melissa her life."
Dr. Moses Earle was a man of inexhaustible patience. He explained again, and then once more. By the third telling, Ian finally seemed to understand that his wife had been doomed from the instant the hemorrhage had begun, and no physician—no matter how talented—could have saved her. He then gestured toward Ian's bloodstained garb.
"I want you to get out of those clothes. After you've had the opportunity to bathe and dress, come back and sit with Melissa awhile. Talk with her. Tell her how much you'll love your son. I truly believe that she'll hear you, and talking will be a comfort to her, as well as you."
"She was only eighteen."
"You're not much older, are you, son?"
"I'm twenty-six."
"I'll not insult you by suggesting you'll fall in love again someday, but I know Melissa would want her child to have a loving mother. Talk that over with her, too. Now go on and clean up. I'll see that Melissa's body is prepared for burial, while you do. When you come back, everything will be ready."
Alanna breathed a small sigh of relief as Ian shuffled out of the room without pausing to look at the newborn infant, who lay tenderly cradled in her arms. She was seated in a rocking chair near the window, and the early morning light illuminated the child clearly. After freeing the babe from his dead mother's womb, Ian had thrust him into Alanna's hands and taken no further notice of him. At first, with the baby covered in his mother's blood, she had not recognized him, but now that he had been bathed and dressed in the tiny garments his late mother had made, his heritage was unmistakable.
He was a handsome child with a startling shock of ebony hair, deep brown eyes, and skin of a gorgeous golden hue. When Hunter had complained that Melissa had married the wrong man, Alanna had not realized he had such a strong justification for his view. She knew exactly when he and her cousin had been together: the night in early April when Melissa had awakened her with agonized sobs she had blamed on concern for her brothers. It was obvious now Melissa hadn't been crying for Byron and Elliott, but for herself.
That had merely been the first of Melissa's lies. Now Alanna could not help but wonder if she had ever spoken the truth in the last eight months. It was now obvious why Melissa had insisted upon being the one to introduce Ian to her son, but what had she meant to tell him? Surely she would not have tried to convince Ian the babe was his, but would she have told him more lies, or provided the damning truth at long last?
Alanna glanced up to find Polly had returned. She and Dr. Earle were hovering over Melissa's body, working to prepare her for her final journey to the grave. They had all expected the day to bring the joy of new life, not the pain of death, and no one had even glanced at the babe nestled in her arms. He was small, but perfectly formed, and his eyes shown with a bright, eager light. He was sucking on his fist, and Alanna began to worry how they would feed him.
"Dr. Earle," she called softly.
Startled, the physician turned. "My goodness, I'd quite forgotten that you were seated there. What is it, Alanna?"
"We need some way to feed Melissa's son."
"Yes, of course, a wet nurse must be found without delay. When I go back into Williamsburg, I'll see who I can find."
"Charity Wade cares for infants," Polly offered.
"Yes, she'll do," Moses Earle agreed. "It might be a good idea for me to take the baby to her, until arrangements can be made to care for him here."
Alanna tightened her hold on the babe. "No, I want to meet her first and see her home, before I entrust Christian to her care."
Dr. Earle approached Alanna's chair. "Is Christian the name Melissa had chosen?"
"Yes, he's named for the brother I lost in infancy."
"How prophetic," the physician mused, "for now he's lost his mother." He leaned over, peeled away the blanket to get a better look at the child, and then, shocked by his dark coloring, straightened up abruptly. "I know an Indian's babe when I see one. What's going on here?" he asked.
Shocked by the doctor's question, Polly came close to get a good look at Christian. "Mother of God," she gasped, and quickly crossed herself. "What are we going to tell the Captain?"
