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“Rest?” Thomas whirled from his place beside the window. One hand on his hair, the other at his hip, he shook his head. A muted groan drifted down from the room above. “Impossible.”
Thomas tapped his hands against his legs as he paced the room from one end to the other.
William pushed away from the door and went to the chair nearest the fire, rubbing the throb in his temple. He glanced at the clock. Midnight. Again he rubbed as the thought of a warm, cushioned bed lured his eyelids shut. He blinked hard and took a deep breath through his nose. Anna was up with the women. If she could endure the work and fatigue, then so could he. He glanced again at Thomas, feeling for the first time a small thread in the tapestry of agony that draped the shoulders of the father-to-be.
Another shout of pain filtered down through the ceiling, and Thomas spun toward Nathaniel, a taut arm extending toward the stairs. “Can you not do something?”
“And what would you suggest?” Unfazed by his friend’s outburst, Nathaniel strode to the table to pour another drink. He handed it to Thomas when he passed. “You know they insisted we remain below stairs.”
“Why?” Thomas stopped moving and his face reddened as if it took every measure of strength he possessed to comply. “I cannot bear to hear her suffer and I not be at her side to give her aid.” He rested the untouched drink on the table and marched to his perch by the window. “How can having a child possibly take so long? These hours of agony can’t be safe for her—or the child.”
“Fourteen hours is a relatively short amount of time for a woman’s first labor, Thomas,” Nathaniel said. “For some woman it can last days.”
All the color drained from Thomas’s face. “Days?”
Again, a cry came from the room above and Thomas spun, eyes so round with exasperation that the laugh in William’s chest melted in place of the desire to find some kind of comfort to offer. He rose and joined Nathaniel in front of the fire, searching for any words that might alleviate Thomas’s suffering, but Nathaniel spoke first.
“I know you’re concerned, Thomas,” he said, “but what would you have me do? Ask her to be silent so her husband can have a bit more peace?” Nathaniel tilted his head with a single raised brow that seemed to infuriate the father-to-be even more. “You seem to be in more pain than your wife.”
Eliza cried out again and Thomas’s neck corded. “You’re a doctor. Demand to be let in.”
“You’re the husband. I think that weighs far heavier.” Nathaniel sat in the chair, sipping his cider as if they had just finished a game of cards. “You seem to think I could alleviate her pain somehow. Childbirth is the most natural event in the word. Eliza will be fine.”
Thomas recoiled, his face crimson. “My mother died giving birth to me. You cannot be certain she will be fine.”
After a beat Nathaniel rose to his feet, the once relaxed expression now drawn as he went slowly to Thomas’s side. “Forgive me.” He cupped a hand to his friend’s shoulder and spoke in a tone that matched the caring in his stance. “She will be well, I promise you. Kitty knows enough to call for me if there is serious trouble.”
This time, William spoke. “I remember my mother bearing my youngest sister, Jane. She made quite a commotion, but in the end both mother and child were—”
“Thomas?”
A woman’s voice plucked them from their huddle and all three whirled toward the stairs. Kitty stood on the bottom step and tucked a thick auburn curl around her ear.
Thomas was frozen, mouth part-way open. “Well?”
Her face lit in a soft, reverent smile. “Come meet your daughter.”
“Daughter?” Thomas regained composure by increments. He shook his head, the smile on his face growing until it surpassed the one on Kitty’s. “’Tis a girl!”
“Daughters usually are.” Nathaniel chuckled at his own wit, but Thomas didn’t seem to hear. He rushed for the stairs but stopped before racing upward, his face sullen. “How is she?”
Knowing whom he specified, Kitty gripped his arm. “Your wife is healthy, Thomas. Healthy and happy.” She squeezed his shoulder and motioned up the stairs with a quick tilt of the head.
Taking them two-by-two, Thomas raced out of sight.
Kitty finished descending and Nathaniel went to her, following her to the kitchen. He wound his arm around her waist and she leaned her head against his shoulder. William grinned and turned away. ’Twas good to see them so happy. Only weeks ago he feared they might never find the joy that awaited them, but God had a way of bringing souls together. Contemplating His goodness never ceased to bring a warmth to William’s chest. A new marriage, and now—for the Watson’s—a new babe.
The fatigue William had battled finally breached his bastion of persistence. Once Anna descended he would whisk her away and indulge in what little sleep he could before once again starting in the fields. A few hours of blissful slumber was better than none.
“William?”
He turned to find Anna just behind him, curls of black hair escaping the confines of her pins. Her shoulders slumped slightly and her tight expression masked an emotion that wavered beneath.
“You should be home sleeping.” She sighed, looking to the door then back to him. “Somehow I didn’t expect to see you here.”
He placed a hand at her back and led her to the door. “I couldn’t indulge in sleep knowing you were…busy.” When they came to the door, he stopped. “How are you? Were you…”
Voicing the question he yearned to ask might insult, but his curiosity refused to be gainsaid. “Have you helped with a birth before this?”
