The Midwife's Choice Read Free Page B

angry with you very often?”
    Nancy’s eyes widened as she obviously absorbed the implications in Martha’s question. When she shook her head, tears escaped and trickled down the sides of her face. She pressed her lips together and tilted her chin. Her gaze sparkled with defiance. “Russell is a fine man and a good husband. He’s patient and understanding, and—”
    â€œI didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” Martha insisted. Most definitely rebuked, she was taken aback by the younger woman’s adamant defense of her husband. Loath to be responsible for upsetting her patient, Martha regretted even suggesting there was trouble in this young couple’s marriage.
    â€œIt’s not his fault I’m just naturally clumsy, but this time . . .” Nancy paused and wiped the tears from her face. “This time I’m afraid he’ll never forgive me for being such an oaf. I know I never will. It’s all my fault this happened. I should have waited for him to get the firewood, then I wouldn’t have fallen, and my babe . . . my poor babe . . .” She dissolved into tears.
    â€œYou won’t help matters by blaming yourself,” Martha insisted. She briefly explained the double-wrapped cord around the baby’s neck. “So you see, perhaps ending your pregnancynow is God’s mercy at work. You can mourn your babe’s loss as nature’s accident, not yours.”
    Nancy brushed away new tears with the back of her hand and looked back and forth from the door to her swaddled babe. “Why did this have to happen? Why?” she wailed.
    Martha moved closer to sit alongside the grief-stricken young woman. “We don’t know why,” she murmured. “All we can do is trust the good Lord to help us through tragedy. I know your heart is broken, but God’s power to heal—”
    â€œGod should have used His power to save my babe,” Nancy countered before she turned her back to Martha and began to sob.
    Martha let her cry herself back to sleep. When the world outside once again grew silent, she gathered her bag and birthing stool, tiptoed from the room, and gently closed the door just as Russell returned to the cabin.
    He placed a small wooden box on the table and emptied out the contents, an odd collection of nails and screws. “Don’t need to bother makin’ a coffin. This should do,” he murmured.
    Martha swallowed the lump in her throat and set her things down by the bedchamber door. “I’m so sorry, Russell. I wish I had been able to do more.”
    â€œYou did what you could. There’s no need to apologize or waste any more time here. Figure you’d want to head back to town and get home before nightfall.”
    His words were clipped, his expression hard.
    Her heartstrings tightened. “I should stay awhile longer. To check Nancy and make sure she doesn’t have any complications. I’d also like to stay and pray with you when you bury your son.”
    He tightened his jaw, and a tic dimpled one of his reddened cheeks. “I can bury my son without troublin’ you further, and I can tend to my wife.”
    She softened her gaze. “You don’t have to do it alone. Nancy’s resting now. At least let me help you get the babe’s coffin readyand make something for you to eat. Then when Nancy wakes up, I’ll check her again and leave, if that’s what you want. The two of you should spend some time together with your son. Nancy needs you, Russell, more than she needs me right now. She’s plagued with guilt—”
    His eyes filled with tears, but he held them back and balled his hands into fists. “If she had waited for me, instead of bein’ impatient and goin’ out for that firewood herself, God knows none of this would have happened. None of it!”
    â€œYou can’t blame Nancy,” she argued. “Her fall