The Widow of Rose Hill (The Women of Rose Hill Book 2), стр. 69

She looked at Samuel, and her heart softened.

George had not been the husband she’d longed for, but she wouldn’t have this amazing little boy if she hadn’t married him.

“Samuel, be sure you and Isaac wash your hands before you come for the noon meal.”

“Yes, Mama,” he chirped, his eyes on the calf.

She left the barn and went back to the house. Upstairs, she peeked in the door to the rooms Cousin Eunice had occupied. Everything was put back to rights now that the disagreeable woman was gone. Moses, ever the kindhearted man, had volunteered to drive Eunice to town the day after she slapped Lottie. With her wagon loaded and her accusations flying, she left Rose Hill, declaring she would not step a toe on Natalie’s property again. Natalie waited for the guilt to envelope her, considering Eunice was her mother’s favorite cousin, but it never came. Instead, heaviness lifted as she watched the covered wagon depart her land. When Moses returned some hours later, he said he’d hired a Negro couple to drive Euniceto Rusk County, where another of her distant cousins lived. The couple, he said, was hoping to find family members there as well. Natalie remembered the look of longing in his eyes, and she knew he and Harriet continued to pray that their boys would find their way back to Rose Hill.

After their noon meal, Natalie gathered with the five women under the walnut tree. Ruth and Adline’s eyes rounded when she placed a book in each of their hands. They ran their fingers over the hard covers, carefully turning pages as though they held a valuable treasure. A sheen of moisture sprang to Adline’s eyes when she glanced at Natalie. A silent message passed between them, and Natalie nodded, tears of her own clouding her vision.

They spent a lovely hour going over the alphabet. Natalie passed the slate among them, letting each woman painstakingly write the first letter in their name. Lottie, however, didn’t seem interested in the lessons. She shifted her position on the soft grass every so often, as though she couldn’t get comfortable. When the others stood to return to their chores, Lottie sat with her eyes pinched closed.

“Lottie, are you not well?” Natalie asked, concerned for the expectant mother. If Lottie’s prediction was correct, she still had a few weeks before the baby would make its appearance.

“My back’s achin’ is all.” She arched her spine as confirmation. “Couldn’t sleep much last night ’cuz it hurtin’ so.”

Natalie had relieved the young woman of work inside the house as soon as Eunice departed. Instead, she directed the soon-to-be-mother to sew garments for her child.

“Perhaps you should lie down and rest.” Natalie helped the young woman to her feet. The moment Lottie stood, however, her eyes widened, and a large stain appeared on her skirt. Her terrified eyes met Natalie’s.

Natalie’s heart leaped. “Lottie, your water broke. You are in labor.”

“I is? Harriet said the pains would be ’cross my belly when my time come. Ain’t nothin’ but my back hurtin’ now.”

“Be that as it may, you’re in labor.” Natalie glanced at the house. “Let’s get you inside, then I’ll get Harriet.”

Lottie hesitated. “I has me a bed in the quarter, Miz Natalie. I wouldn’t want to mess up your purty things.”

“Nonsense.” Natalie took the woman by the arm and led the way toward the porch. “A baby deserves a nice quiet place to enter the world.” Neither mentioned that slave babies had always been born in the quarter, noise, dirt, and all.

Harriet met them at the front door.

“Lottie’s in labor,” Natalie said as the young woman doubled over in pain. “I’m taking her to the guest room.”

Harriet’s brow shot up, but she simply nodded. “I get some water on the stove and bring up fresh sheets.” She hurried away.

Natalie led Lottie to the very room her previous owner had occupied and where Lottie had slept on a pallet. Now Natalie pulled down the covers on the four-poster bed and helped Lottie sit on the edge of the mattress.

“I scared.” Tears filled Lottie’s eyes.

“There is nothing to be afraid of.” Natalie offered a reassuring smile. “Before you know it, you’ll be holding your baby.”

Harriet bustled in, wide-eyed Carolina following with a stack of sheets and towels in her arms. Natalie stepped back as the older woman went to work, directing Carolina here and there, removing the blankets from the bed and replacing them with several layers of sheets, and finally stripping Lottie down to her underthings. Once she had the mother settled, she looked at Natalie.

“You don’t got to stay.” She pulled up a chair close to the bed and settled on it. “It may be a while ’fore this little one makes its appearance. ’Sides”—she eyed Natalie—“childbirth can get messy.”

“I’d like to stay.” She glanced at Lottie. “If it’s all right with you.”

Lottie smiled. “I’d like that.” A moment later, she closed her eyes and clenched her fists.

Harriet leaned over and smoothed the young woman’s brow. “It gonna get worse befo’ it get better, but you has your sweet lil’ baby soon enough.”

The hours went by at an excruciatingly slow pace. Moses popped his head in at some point to let Natalie know he was taking the boys fishing. He’d see to their supper too. Lottie’s pains grew more intense. Natalie recalled Samuel’s birth and how anxious she’d been to have it over and done with. Yet the love that poured from her heart when she’d beheld her son for the first time made all the agony worthwhile.

Evening fell, and Harriet lit a lantern. When the time finally came for Lottie to deliver her child, the overly warm room filled with activity. Harriet threw back the sheet covering Lottie and prepared scissors and string. Carolina rushed in and out carrying hot water from the kitchen, perspiration dotting her face. Natalie wanted to be helpful, but she had no idea what to do. She settled for standing aside so as not to