The Midwife's Dilemma Read Free Page B

since her daughter had shown no interest in becoming a midwife, dashing Martha’s hopes that she might one day replace her. But she had been devastated last year when Victoria had run away with a visiting theater troupe. She had spent several unsuccessful months trying to find her daughter before returning home to Trinity, unaware that Victoria had found safe refuge with a prominent young couple in New York City, where she was able to pursue her natural talent for writing.
    During the months that Victoria had been gone, Martha had relied on prayer to sustain her and her work to keep her busy.She also used that time to reflect not on Victoria’s faults, but on her many qualities, one of which was her honesty.
    Despite how hurt she was now by Victoria’s description of her, she had to admit that her daughter was not entirely wrong about some of what she had said. Martha’s life had always been rooted in tradition, which made raising a more modern-thinking, independent daughter a challenge.
    With her emotions under better control, Martha was still reluctant to say or do anything that might create a deeper chasm between the two of them. She needed to wait until her mind was not befuddled from lack of sleep and her body was not exhausted. More important, she also needed time to pray on the matter. Truly, truly pray.
    She bowed her head and silently beseeched her heavenly Father’s wisdom. When she finally felt the grace of His peace, she climbed down from the loft and made certain the young couple was gone before she hurried out of the stable with Bird.
    Sweating profusely and hungry for both nourishment and her bed, she crossed the covered bridge that spanned Dillon’s Stream and separated East and West Main Street. Before she left the protection of the covered bridge on the other side, she peeked out to make sure she could slip across the street and back home without being seen by anyone, especially Anne Sweet.
    Anne and her husband, George, had returned to Trinity when George resigned his position as a state legislator. Anne’s brother, Thomas Dillon, had resigned as mayor shortly before leaving to escort Fern and Ivy out east, and George had temporarily assumed the duties of mayor until being formally elected.
    Despite the quickening of her heart, Martha set aside any and all thoughts of Thomas for the second time that day. Their relationship was far too complicated and unsettled at the moment for her tired brain to fully comprehend. Instead, she scannedthe length of the planked sidewalk across the street, looking for Anne. She did not have the energy to match wits with her, either.
    With little else to occupy her time, Anne spent most of her time shopping and visiting around town as Trinity’s unofficial busybody. A nonstop chatterbox with a nose for gossip, she did not have any malicious intentions, as far as Martha could tell, but she would often piece together bits of gossip and leap to conclusions that were usually wrong, if not totally outrageous.
    Fortunately, Anne was not in sight, but with all the activity up and down West Main Street, it was hard to dismiss the reality that change was coming to this once-sleepy town. To the south, teams of men were already at work deepening Dillon’s Stream. Others were building up the berm on what would soon be Dillon’s Canal, a venture funded by private investments that would link Trinity to larger cities and markets in a statewide system of canals, forever changing Trinity and the folks who called it home.
    Martha looked to the opposite end of town. Against the backdrop of the sound of shovels scraping at the earth and hammers forcing nails into wooden frames behind her, the whine of the saws at the mill drew her attention to buildings under construction. Several new businesses had appeared in the past few months. In addition to the first bank in town, a new boardinghouse provided lodging for many of the new workers, and a newspaper expected