Forever by Your Side (Willamette Brides #3) - Tracie Peterson Page 0,77
his father and brothers round up horses. He told me yesterday that he’d be gone for a couple of days.”
“Good. That’s very good.” Connie looked at Faith. “We should be all right.”
Faith motioned for Ann and Connie to follow her out of the room. “If she doesn’t make progress soon, I may have to operate. She’s much too weak, and I’m afraid this could kill her—not to mention the baby. Her sickness has already made her fragile. I don’t think she can take much more.”
Ann nodded. “You do whatever you have to, Faith. Try your best to save them both.”
Faith did what she could, but the progress remained slow. Ruth struggled to push, but there was no fight left in her, and Faith decided to give her a tea that would help expel the baby.
“I need you to go to your mother and ask for more of the tea we used to quicken Ruth’s labor.”
Connie nodded. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
She made her way via the shortcut, worrying about what would happen if Ruth died. Sam was already so angry. He would probably start a war all on his own if he lost his wife and child.
Her mother was in the garden when Connie reached their house. She was cutting stalks of rhubarb and humming to herself. Aunt Hope was at the other end of the garden, picking herbs. She glanced up and saw Connie approaching.
“Mercy, Connie’s back.”
Connie hurried to her mother’s side. “Faith asked me to get more of the tea that quickens labor. Ruth isn’t doing well, and she’s making such little progress that Faith is worried.”
Her mother nodded. “Follow me.”
They went into the house and to the small room where Connie’s mother cured herbs and created her healing concoctions. She reached up and took down a jar of crushed leaves. Then she selected a bottle of liquid.
“This is a strong tincture of the same herbs that are in the tea. I’ve had great success with it, getting labor to progress. Tell Faith this might be easier to use than the tea. Especially if Ruth is very weak. She might not be up to drinking much. A few drops of this will do the trick.”
Connie nodded. “I think Faith is pretty worried. You might pray.”
“We’ve been doing that since you left. Has Sam tried to stop by?”
“No, he’s off gathering horses. He won’t be back until late tomorrow.”
Mama looked relieved. “I’m glad. That alone is answered prayer.”
“I’d better get back.” Connie kissed her mother’s cheek, then made a mad dash for the back door.
By the time she reached Ann’s house, Connie realized she’d seen nothing of Tom or the other men in her family. She wondered what they were up to. Hopefully they were figuring out where the weapons were hidden. If they could only find the house with the cache of guns, then the Indians wouldn’t have the weapons needed to start a war.
“I’m back,” Connie said, hurrying into the house.
Faith came out of the bedroom. She looked quite worried, and Connie couldn’t help fearing the worst. “Is she . . . dead?”
“No. But I fear she will be if that baby doesn’t come soon.”
Connie held up the bottle and jar. “Mama said this tincture would work faster and be stronger than the tea.”
Faith took the bottle. “Good. We’ll give it a try.”
Around three o’clock that afternoon, the baby was delivered. A stillborn son. Faith wrapped him carefully in a blanket provided by Ann. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she placed the baby beside Ruth.
“My baby. My baby,” Ruth murmured and wept.
He was perfectly formed and looked like he was sleeping. Was Faith certain he was dead?
“We wanted to call him Joseph—after Sam’s father and my mother’s son who died. Now he walks with them.” Ruth pulled the baby close and washed his face with her tears.
“I’m so sorry, Ruth. I know you’re devastated,” Faith told her. “But you are very weak. We need you to fight to live.”
Ann took a seat on the bed beside her stepdaughter. She used a damp washcloth to wipe Ruth’s forehead. “Don’t leave me, daughter. Do not go after your son. Stay with us.”
“A baby needs his mother.” Ruth’s words were barely audible.
Connie could barely stand it. The grief of Ann and Ruth was so painful to bear, and yet Faith managed it stoically. Perhaps that was what made her a good doctor.
After about thirty minutes, Ann got up and took the baby. “I’ll wash him.” She