Their Frontier Family Read online

  When Noah arrived at the Osbournes, he found Gordy outside sitting hunched on a log. Since the day was fine, both Dawn and Guthrie played at his feet. The man glanced up, looking strained but hopeful.

  With a tight throat Noah delivered the news. “Mrs. Ashford has to finish baking her bread before she comes.”

  Sunny was standing in the doorway. “Did Mrs. Ashford say how soon that would be?”

  “Not long. The preacher’s daughter-in-law was at the store and said she’ll be coming soon, too.” He tried to gauge how things were progressing with Nan but could read nothing but concern in his wife’s stance. Sunny nodded and then went back inside.

  Noah hobbled his horse to graze at the edge of the clearing and then went to sit on the log beside Gordy. He forced himself to ask, “How are things going?”

  “Nan says not to worry. Everything’s going as it should.” Gordy’s voice sounded on edge.

  Noah had no idea what this meant but found he didn’t want to know. What could they talk about to get their minds on something else? “You heard about the bear?”

  Gordy chuckled and shook his head. “Takes a lot to ruffle my wife.”

  Noah couldn’t think of anything to say to that, and the men sat in more silence. Noah knew he wasn’t helping. “I’m thinking of clearing more land. I need to put in a garden and plant some corn,” he finally said.

  Gordy glanced around at his heavily wooded land. “Same here. We’ll have to get busy with that soon.”

  Even more silence descended. Noah knew he was failing, and when he heard a horse approaching, he jumped up, grateful someone had come.

  * * *

  The preacher’s daughter-in-law arrived, then Mrs. Ashford, a plump woman who had a determined cast to her face, drove up in a wagon. The women disappeared inside, and the long hours went on and on. In the shade, the two toddlers napped on a blanket. Noah could tell Gordy was worried and gave up trying to make him talk. Gordy’s eyes strayed toward the cabin constantly. Noah suddenly couldn’t stand the tension. He rose abruptly. “You know, why don’t we split some wood for kindling?” A man could always use more wood.

  Gordy stood also. “Sounds like a good idea.”

  The two men headed toward the stump and the stack of logs nearby. “I’ll watch the kids first while you split.”

  Gordy nodded. The two worked hard as if they could help the birth by chopping wood. Noah watched Gordy’s strained face, wondering how he would feel if their roles were reversed. Nan could die. The baby could, too. The thoughts made Noah’s mouth go dry. He wished he had some comfort to give Gordy.

  * * *

  Through the open door Sunny heard the sound of the ax hitting wood. “Sounds like the men are keeping busy.” The sound of their normal chore helped calm Sunny. And she needed to be calm for Nan’s sake. The preacher’s kin Lavina sat by the open window and sewed as if the day were just like any other.

  Nan and Sunny were pacing slowly back and forth in the cabin, Nan leaning on Sunny’s arm. Mrs. Ashford said walking would hurry the birth along. So they paced the dirt floor, packed down hard.

  That floor bothered Sunny. Gordy hadn’t taken the extra effort to make a half-log floor. This cabin wouldn’t be as snug as hers and Noah’s would be this winter. Was it because the Osbournes were from farther south and didn’t know how the cold would come up from the frozen earth?

  Mrs. Ashford stood over the fire. Comfrey leaves steeped in a pot of boiled water gave off a dreadful smell. “My grandma taught me how to brew this. We’ll soak cloths in it and then, when your time is near, we’ll poultice you and the baby will have an easier time making his appearance.”

  As a labor pain wrenched her, Nan paused, turning to grasp Sunny’s elbows. Sunny braced herself to withstand Nan’s fierce grip.

  “They’re getting closer together,” Lavina commented, looking up from her sewing.

  Slumping with evident relief after the contraction, Nan leaned her head on Sunny’s shoulder, gasping for air. “That was a hard one.”

  Sunny felt helpless. She could do nothing to ease her friend’s pain. But Lavina was right—the pains were much closer together now and seemed more powerful. That was good news, hard but good. God, protect my friend Nan in this time. Please.

  “It’s near past supper time. I’m going to make sandwiches and take them out to the men and children.” Lavina rose and began preparations.

  “Let’s see how you’re doing, Nan.” Mrs. Ashford motioned toward a makeshift pallet near the fire, prepared for the birthing. Nan had refused to use her bed for the messy business of childbearing.

  Sunny helped her friend lie down and endure the intrusive examination. Averting her eyes, she wondered what Noah was thinking.

  Noah had been so angry about her and Nan encountering the bear. Did that mean he cared? She remembered giving birth to Dawn. No man had waited like Gordy was. But Noah would care; he already had taken to Dawn, hadn’t he?

  * * *

  Noah and Gordy had finished chopping enough kindling to last the family for a month or two. Now back on the log, the fathers each held a child. Staying calm for Gordy’s sake, Noah swallowed the question that had plagued him repeatedly since he arrived: How are things going?

  A pained moan—very loud, very long—came from inside.

  Gordy jerked up as if to go inside, but remained in place.

  Noah’s heart thudded dully.

  A long low bellow issued from the cabin, louder and filled with pain and hurt.

  Goose bumps rose on Noah’s arms.

  Gordy moaned and then uttered a fervent prayer, “Oh, God, oh, God, take care of my Nan. What would I do without her?”

  Noah felt the words as his own. Oh, God, oh, God, what would I do without Sunny and Dawn?

  * * *

  Almost two hours later, with the spent sun nearly setting, Sunny came outside, beaming. “Gordy, your daughter’s been born. You can come in now.”

  The weight lifted in an instant. Noah rose up and clapped Gordy on the back. “A girl! You’ve got a daughter!”

  Gordy looked punch-drunk. “How’s my wife?”

  “Very tired but well,” Mrs. Ashford said as she came out, pulling on her shawl. “Mr. Whitmore, would you hitch up my team?”

  Gordy wrung the woman’s hand. “Thank you, ma’am. Thank you.” Then he swung his son up into his arms. “Let’s go see your baby sister!”

  Mrs. Ashford smiled and bustled toward Noah who had hurried to do the hitching. After he waved the storekeeper’s wife off, he turned to find Sunny, who waited outside for him.

  When he came abreast of Sunny, he murmured, “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, not a bad delivery according to Mrs. Ashford. She is a very competent midwife. That’s good to know.”

  Then his throat closed up. Sunny’s words about the midwife repeated in his mind. The import of what she said hit him. She meant if she ever got pregnant, a competent midwife lived nearby. Would he ever feel able to give Sunny children?

  “Here she is,” Gordy said, coming to the door and holding up a tiny red-faced baby wrapped in a small white blanket.

  Noah tried to look appreciative but he’d never seen a newborn. No doubt the baby would look better as she got older.

  “Beautiful,” Sunny said from his side.

  Lavina joined the knot at the door. “Nan will be lying in for a few days. I’ll stay to help tonight.”

  “I’ll come tomorrow,” Sunny said. “I can come some every day.” She looked to Noah as if asking approval.

  “Of course,” he said, unable to look away.

  Dawn tugged on his pant leg and he swung her up in his arms.

  * * *

  “Sunny!”

  Much later that night the sound of her name woke Sun
ny from a deep, exhausted sleep. Had she imagined it?

  “Sunny!” The cry split the silence.

  She sat bolt upright on her bedding. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light from the banked fire. Up in the loft Noah began moaning. Another nightmare.

  She looked to Dawn. Noah’s distress had not woken her yet.

  “Sunny, Sunny,” he moaned as if beseeching her to save him.

  Sunny couldn’t bear it. Throwing back her quilt, she hurried to the ladder and climbed up into the loft.

  Noah thrashed, fighting his blankets. “Noah,” she said in a firm, loud voice. She reached over and shook his shoulder. “Noah, you’re having a nightmare.” She repeated this several times, still shaking his shoulder more and more insistently.

  Then he jerked and sat up. “What...what?”

  “Noah, you were having a nightmare,” she said in an even tone without any scold in it. “You were calling my name.”

  He stared at her.

  Was he fully awake? “Noah?” she whispered.

  “Sorry.” His voice was rough and dry.

  “No need to apologize. I was just concerned.” She patted his arm. “I’ll sit with you till you fall asleep again.”

  “No need,” he replied gruffly. “Sorry I bothered you.”

  Men didn’t show weakness, she reminded herself. Nevertheless she had to choke down the urge to offer comfort again. “Good night then.” She went to the ladder and then climbed down.

  On the main floor she checked on Dawn, sleeping peacefully in her hammock, and then slipped between her quilts again. Would the nightmares ever end? She’d asked him, thinking she could help Noah by talking them out. He’d shut her out. Everything within her yearned toward this man, her husband. Oh, to have the privilege of holding him and comforting him. But the truth chilled her. He doesn’t want me. And maybe I’m not what he needs.

  Chapter Eight

  Sunny felt shy with Noah at breakfast. Perhaps because she’d never before gone up into the loft when he had been there. She’d never tried to help him in the midst of his nightmares. Had she done right or wrong?

  Right, she told herself. He is my husband.

  She dragged her mind back to the present. She and Noah sat on opposite benches at the new table, eating a silent breakfast of cinnamon buns and salt pork. Dawn had crawled down from her lap and was trying to climb up onto the bench beside Noah. Sunny put down her cup. “I’ll get her.”

  “No.” Noah set down his fork. He lifted the little girl to sit on his lap. Dawn cooed happily and patted the edge of the table with both her palms. “She’s always so happy.” Wonderment resonated in Noah’s voice.

  Sunny had a hard time swallowing. Dawn somehow was able to pierce Noah’s shell in a way that she couldn’t. “She is a blessing,” Sunny murmured.

  “I’m so glad that Nan and the baby came through well.” Relief radiated from each of Noah’s words. He looked closely at her, as if watching for her reaction.

  Impulsively, she reached over and barely touched his hand lying on the table. “Me, too.” Why was he still looking at her like that? Like there was something he wanted to say?

  Careful not to overstep this fragile link between them, she removed her hand and went back to eating the last of her breakfast. As they ate, Dawn’s cooing and the birdsong from outside were the only sounds.

  “Noah, I’m going to clean up after breakfast and do my morning chores. Then I’m going over to help with Nan and the baby. Is that all right?”

  “Of course,” Noah said as he helped Dawn stand up on his lap and then held her under her arms while she bobbed up and down. Dawn leaned against his chest, hugging him and talking baby talk to him.

  She could tell Noah was taking pleasure in Dawn’s innocent glee. And she was happy that Dawn could take him away from his cares, even if she couldn’t.

  “Sorry...about last night,” Noah said as if he’d been struggling with what to say all morning.

  “It was nothing, Noah,” she assured him. “I’ll leave your lunch keeping warm in the back of the hearth.” In spite of his dark mood, Noah had eaten four of her cinnamon rolls, and that made her feel she wasn’t completely a failure at being a good wife.

  “Fine. I’m going to start clearing more land for our garden. Gordy and I are going to help each other get everything planted as soon as the frost danger is past, near the end of this month.”

  “I’ve never tended a garden,” she admitted, rising to clear the table. No gardens behind saloons. For her whole life until she’d lived with the Gabriels, all her food had come from cafés. What did Noah think of a wife who’d never tended a garden?

  “It’s not hard to learn,” Noah said, wiping his lips with his colorful pocket handkerchief. “I’ll teach you what weeds look like and then it’s just a matter of watering and weeding.” He rose, still holding Dawn.

  Something Old Saul had said in a recent sermon came into her mind, about their lives being like gardens and prayers being the key to weeding out the bad. I need to pray for my husband more.

  Noah handed her Dawn, who complained loudly. He touched Dawn’s nose and promised to play with her later.

  Constance Gabriel had taught Sunny that she could pray anytime and anywhere and in any way. Sunny had always felt that she had no right to claim God’s ear. But this is for Noah, not me, she thought.

  Sunny felt an almost physical movement around her heart and, with awe, wondered if this was what Constance had meant by the Inner Light.

  “Anything wrong?” Noah asked, pausing just outside the door.

  Sunny felt herself beaming as the prayer formed in her mind. “No, nothing.”

  Dear God, heal my Noah’s heart.

  * * *

  Noah stood outside, the morning sun warming his head and shoulders. He watched Sunny, carrying Dawn on her hip, on their way to Nan’s house. Though glad she was going to help, he found he wished she was staying home.

  The wish caught him by surprise.

  Sunny always lived up to her name, and Dawn did, too. He clamped down on the good feeling trying to rise in him. One brief recollection of the humiliation of Sunny climbing up into the loft because he’d wakened her again did the trick. His heart turned to brick.

  But he had blessed work to do. He turned to tackle choosing the best place for the garden. He loved string beans and ruby-red beets and their tender greens with scarlet veins that tasted like sugar. His mouth watered just thinking of the produce he’d harvest this summer, God willing. He heard the last two words repeat in his mind, God willing. Why had he thought that now?

  He gazed up at the green trees, singing with the breeze. But got no answer. He loved this forest. However it did make finding a full-sun area difficult. And a garden needed water, too. He started walking toward the creek, trying to block out Sunny’s concerned expression over breakfast. I’ve got her walking on eggs again and I don’t want her to feel that way.

  No matter how he tried to keep her out, Sunny kept finding her way back into his thoughts.

  The sound of cheery whistling announced that Gordy had come as promised. “Mornin’, Noah!”

  Noah turned to greet the man, noticing how different his neighbor looked today. The tension of the birthing had melted away and now a proud, happy father marched into the clearing. Gordy carried his ax over his shoulder and a smile covered his face.

  “Morning. How’s your wife and babe?”

  “Fine. When he was a baby, Guthrie was some colicky, but this one—we named her after my ma and Nan’s, Pearl Louise—just whimpers a little when she’s hungry.”

  Noah let the man’s good humor and joy flow over him. Gordy had a right to feel good. Noah refused to let his mind drift back to Sunny.

  “Well, where do you think you want your garden?” Gordy asked.r />
  “I’m thinking near the creek. More sun there and water will be near if the rain is sparse.”

  “Good thinking. Let’s see the lay of the land.” They walked together to the nearby creek.

  Noah decided then that he’d try to work himself to exhaustion today and then perhaps he’d sleep so sound he wouldn’t dream and disturb Sunny.

  He hadn’t made it more than five seconds without thinking of her again.

  “Have you ever sent a letter?” Gordy asked out of the blue.

  With a pang Noah recalled all the letters he’d written while encamped in the army, letters to his brothers who always wrote back. But never to his father. Those dark days gripped him momentarily. “Yes...yes.”

  “I’ve never done it. Never had to. But I need to write and tell my family and Nan’s that we have a daughter and that we’re doing well. I feel bad we haven’t written home before now.”

  Noah heard in his mind his elder brother’s words at his wedding about keeping in touch. “I haven’t written my...brothers, either.”

  “Who do you think handles the post hereabouts?”

  “Probably Ashford. Usually if there isn’t a post office, the post comes to the general store. Sunny and I are going to town for seeds—we can pick up paper and ink, if you need it.”

  Gordy nodded and hefted his ax handle in his hand. “Let’s get your garden plot cleared today. And we’ll tackle mine tomorrow.” He looked up at the cloudless sky. “If this weather holds. We’ll almost be farmers then.”

  The two walked up and down the creek and chose a spot on an upper slope of one the gentle hills. The slight elevation would keep a heavy rain from flooding the garden. They chose the trees that needed to be thinned to let full sun fall on the plot for most of the daylight hours. Then the sound of their axes echoed in the clearing. For a brief time, Noah’s mind quieted and he was able to work in peace.

  * * *

  Six days later Sunny let Noah help her up onto the bench of their wagon. Then he swung Dawn up to her arms. Soon he sat on her other side and slapped the reins. Sunny had pocketed a list of items for them and for the Osbournes.