A Quiet Strength Page 12

  At last the pain eased off, and Virginia, face flushed, decided that she’d best make it to her bed before the next one hit.

  She managed the stairs, stripped the bed of the blankets in one large sweep, and got the flannels from the closet where she had them stored. She had just managed to arrange them when she heard the door bang and Jonathan calling her name. Mindy found him. Virginia breathed a prayer of thanks and lowered herself to the bed just as another contraction tightened her abdomen. She could not even answer Jonathan’s call. She heard his footsteps on the stairs and, sure he had not stopped to remove his barn boots, had the silly thought that he likely was leaving tracks on her clean floors.

  “Are you okay?” was his anxious question as he burst through the door, Mindy in one arm. His eyes moved quickly about the bedroom. Blankets scattered across the floor. White flannels haphazardly spread across the bed. Virginia crouched on the edge, her face pale, her hands on her stomach.

  “I think so.”

  “I’ve got to get Luke.”

  “Get Mama.”

  “Mama. Okay.” But he seemed dazed. He moved Mindy to his other arm.

  “Will the motorcar start?” asked Virginia.

  “I’ve been keeping a heater going in the car shed.”

  Virginia was unaware that he had planned that far ahead.

  “What shall I do with Mindy?” he asked anxiously.

  “You’d best take her with you.”

  “Then you’ll be all alone.”

  Virginia managed a chuckle. “And what good do you think she’d do if she were here?”

  “Well, she found me.”

  “Yes,” admitted Virginia with a nod of her head. “But I don’t think she has much experience delivering babies.”

  Jonathan nodded. “I’ll hurry,” he promised and turned to go. Just before he passed through the door, he turned back one last time, his face ashen. “Don’t … do anything until I get back.” And then he was gone, leaving Virginia still chuckling until another contraction robbed her of mirth.

  The baby, a girl, arrived twelve minutes before midnight. Though she was tiny, she appeared healthy, with a cry loud enough to hurt anyone’s ears and make tummies jitter.

  Mindy, who had been put to bed, tiptoed from her room, rubbing sleepy eyes, and Jonathan picked her up and gave her one small peek at the newcomer before tucking her back in her bed.

  Dr. Luke and Belinda both were on hand for the delivery. Virginia felt exhausted when it was finally over and was more than content to swallow the sleeping preparation that Luke held out to her. She knew her baby would be in good hands.

  “Let me have one more look at her,” she implored as she lay back against her pillows, and the baby was placed in her arms once more.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Isn’t she, Jonathan?” The proud father agreed, reaching out to touch one tiny curled fist.

  “Have you named her?” asked Belinda.

  Virginia’s eyes moved to meet Jonathan’s. “We’ve picked two names. Now we need to decide which one it’ll be. What do you think? Is she a Martha Joy or a Sarah Ann?”

  Jonathan dipped his head. “I’m leaning toward Martha.” Virginia looked down at her baby. “I think you’re right. I think she’s a Martha.”

  “Maybe the next one will be a Sarah.”

  Virginia’s eyes flashed upward to meet her husband’s. “Don’t you dare say a thing like that to me. Not until at least … tomorrow morning.”

  He bent over to kiss her, chuckling. Then he gently lifted his daughter, kissed Virginia again, and whispered, “Get some sleep, Mama. You’ve had a big day.”

  In the morning, as usual, Mindy bounced into the bedroom. Jonathan was quick to rise from the bed, his finger to his lips. “Shh. Mama’s sleeping.”

  But Virginia already had heard her. “Is it morning already?” she asked sleepily, stirring slowly to look around.

  “Not just morning—a new year.”

  Virginia smiled. “Does Grandma Marty know yet? And Grandmother Withers? And Clara?”

  “Not yet. We didn’t think we should rouse them at midnight. But they’ll know soon enough. Mindy and I are going to get in the car and go spread the news.”

  “Where’s our baby—baby Martha?” Virginia said, savoring the name on her tongue.

  “She’s with her grandmother, getting rocked. She’ll likely be thoroughly spoiled before I even get a chance.”

  “Mama’s still here?”

  “She said she’ll stay until you’re on your feet again.”

  “Uncle Luke?”

  “He went home last night—or this morning, however you want to think of it. Why don’t you try to get some more sleep?”

  Virginia rolled over onto her side. “I think I will,” and she closed her eyes.

  CHAPTER 13

  The days of lying abed after childbirth, while the sounds of an active family drifted up the stairway, were difficult for Virginia. She longed to be downstairs, a part of the household activity. And though her mother brought baby Martha to see her often, Virginia wanted the opportunity to care for her own child.

  There were lots of visitors. The great-grandparents arrived—as well as aunts and uncles, cousins and extended family members, and friends—and Virginia disliked being propped up in bed to receive them rather than down serving tea. But it was such fun to show off the baby.

  Virginia was thankful when she was finally allowed out of bed and down to the living room. It felt good to be moving about again. Good to be a part of the family life. She chatted with her mother, read to Mindy, and took over Martha’s bath time. She made sure the coffeepot was on for Jonathan when he came in midmorning, and fixed him hot chocolate at the end of the day. It was like their old routine, except that her mother occupied the upstairs guest room and a very small new family member slept in the cradle beside their own bed or wailed to be fed or changed. Virginia had never felt happier.

  Virginia was both pleased and sad when the day came that she was able to be on her own. She was happy to be able to run her own home again, but she had enjoyed having her mother with her. “Baby Martha will miss you, Mama,” she said as she hugged Belinda.

  “Oh, she will see me often. You’ll likely weary of me popping in.”

  “Never. Come as often as you like.”

  Belinda turned to tell Mindy good-bye. The little girl still did not allow hugs and seldom would even speak to anyone other than Virginia and Jonathan. Now she pointed at the cradle. “Don’t forget her.”

  Belinda laughed. “Oh, I’m not taking your baby. She stays here with you. That’s Mindy’s baby sister.”

  “You take her,” said Mindy solemnly. “I don’t like her much.”

  They had laughed about Mindy’s comment, but a few days later Virginia noted a change in the little girl. She sat quietly in the big rocker where she and Jonathan rocked so frequently, eyes half-closed and thumb in mouth. Virginia had not seen her suck her thumb for a long time except at bedtime.

  When Jonathan came in from his hours of outside work, Mindy bounced down off the chair and ran to meet him. “Let’s rock,” she said, tugging on his arm before he could even remove his jacket. “Whoa,” Jonathan responded. “Let me warm my fingers first.”

  But Mindy was impatient as Jonathan held his hands over the cookstove, rubbing them together to take away winter’s chill.

  Jonathan moved to Martha’s cradle. The baby was awake, silently contemplating her limited world. When Jonathan spoke to her, she turned her head toward the sound. He grinned. “Now, aren’t you one bright little filly. You already know your papa’s voice.”

  Virginia, from her spot on the sofa, smiled. Was it the voice or just the sound? Well, perhaps Jonathan was right. Maybe the child did recognize the familiar.

  “Well, now, let’s just get you out of there for a little talk, shall we,” Jonathan enthused, lifting out the wee one. Martha responded by making faces, and he made faces back at her. He tucked the tiny baby i
nto one arm and reached with the other toward Mindy.

  “Now let’s go rock, Mindy.”

  But Mindy had changed her mind. She stood apart, mute and big-eyed, her thumb firmly fixed in her mouth. She did not say a word. Did not even shake her head. Then the big eyes closed, blocking out the world.

  “Mindy, come sit with Mama,” Virginia, who had been carefully watching, invited her. But there was no indication that the little girl even heard her words.

  “We’ll read your new Christmas book,” coaxed Virginia further, a promise that usually brought the little girl at a run. Still no response.

  Jonathan and Virginia exchanged silent messages.

  “Here,” murmured Jonathan, passing the baby off to Virginia. “Hold her until we settle into the chair, then bring her to me.”

  He went to Mindy and lifted her up into his arms and held her close, his head against her hair, for what seemed to Virginia to be a long time. Nothing was said. They just stood there, the little girl held firmly and lovingly against her papa. When he finally moved, he went to their chair and sat down; Mindy still held tightly. For a few silent moments they rocked gently back and forth; then Jonathan looked over at Virginia and gave a nod.

  “Let’s you and me rock our baby for a little while,” Jonathan said. Mindy squirmed. “There’s lots of room on Papa’s lap, and baby Martha wants to rock, too.”

  Virginia leaned over and placed Martha on Jonathan’s free arm.

  For a time Mindy seemed frozen in position. Her thumb returned to her mouth. After a few moments she withdrew it long enough to say, “It’s too crowded. She’s pushing me. Give her back to Mama.”

  Jonathan was firm. “Papa wants to hold her. I haven’t seen her all day. She was sleeping when I went out this morning.”

  “She should sleep some more. Put her over there.” Mindy’s small head nodded toward the cradle.

  “She wants to be awake for a little while, see her family. Don’t you, Martha? See—she’s looking right at you.”

  Mindy scrunched her eyes tightly.

  “She likes to rock with her papa and her big sister,” went on Jonathan. “Did you know she can hold on to fingers? Look. Look how she holds Papa’s.”

  But Mindy would not look.

  Virginia watched, realizing that Mindy obviously was feeling a good deal of insecurity and jealousy over the new baby. They had just begun to think that Mindy had made adjustments. Her temper tantrums were not as often nor as fierce. Now were they to revert back to the old behavior? She hoped with all her heart that they were not. The days of Mindy’s flare-ups had been difficult for all of them.

  Even as Virginia watched, Mindy slid down off Jonathan’s lap and walked silently away.

  “Are you going for your book?” asked Jonathan. Mindy made no response.

  “If you bring it, Papa will read to you and you can turn the pages.”

  Still no indication that Mindy had heard his words.

  “I think Martha would like to hear the story, too.”

  Mindy climbed the steps, not even turning her head.

  “Oh dear,” said Virginia when she was sure the little girl was out of earshot. “I think we have a bad case of nose-out-of-joint here. What do we do now?”

  Jonathan hoisted Martha up and kissed her on the top of her little head.

  “Hopefully this won’t last long,” he said with a sigh. “I thought she was coming along well.”

  “I think she was. I hope we don’t have to go through the whole painful process all over again.”

  Jonathan just shook his head and sighed.

  “Do you think you should just sort of … not fuss over Martha?” Virginia gently questioned.

  “Ignore my own baby?”

  “Well, not really ignore her. Just not make it obvious. Not when Mindy is around.”

  “You have to start early. Let them know your voice and your touch. Feel comfortable and safe around you.” Virginia knew that Jonathan was thinking of his foals even though he was speaking about the child he held in his arms. She opened her mouth to object, then quickly closed it again. Perhaps the same methods did work for children.

  Jonathan continued, “I fear that’s what Mindy missed. I’m not about to let that happen with Martha. Mindy has to learn. To know that this child is loved, too. I’m not sure what’s the best way. Far as I know, if I just try to let her know that she is still loved even though baby Martha is, too, eventually she will not feel so abandoned or uncertain.”

  Virginia frowned. It was tricky, hitting this balance. “Mindy has already suffered so much. I hate to put her through any more,” she said quietly. “Baby Martha is held and handled and loved. She wouldn’t even notice.”

  “I would.”

  It was true—Jonathan had a right to cuddle his child. To bond with her early. To know the excitement when he first saw her recognize his voice. Virginia would not, could not, deny him that.

  “We’ll work with Mindy as gently, as lovingly, as we can,” went on Jonathan, “but we cannot let her take over our family.”

  Virginia nodded, but there was still concern in her heart. How were they going to manage Mindy? And baby Martha?

  Mindy continued to be totally unpredictable. One day she would be silent and withdrawn, the next she would wake up crying and continue through most of the day. At times she threw such ugly temper tantrums that Virginia was exhausted dealing with them. Mindy sometimes nearly bowled Jonathan over when he came in the door; at other times she would not even go near him when he called to her.

  She seemed to lose all interest in the farm animals. She did not wish to feed the chickens, play with the kittens, or tussle with Murphy. Virginia found it much easier to do the tasks herself than to coax and fight with the young girl. And Mindy started to wet her bed again. Virginia did not need the additional laundry in the dead of winter with the baby’s washing already keeping her busy.

  Virginia did not dare leave the two little ones unattended, even for a few minutes. With Mindy’s obvious dislike of the baby, Virginia feared she might dump her from the cradle or cause some other harm. By each day’s end Virginia felt worn out and discouraged. She did hope and pray that Mindy’s difficult behavior would end quickly.

  Jonathan could be of little help during the day, other than to support and encourage her. He was working full time with the five two-year-old mares who were to be the future of the farm. He planned to have them ready for early spring sale.

  “I’d love to keep that young filly you named Cinnamon,” he told Virginia one day. “She shows real promise.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  “We need the money. She should bring the best price of any of them.”

  Virginia had dubbed the three fillies Nutmeg, Ginger, and Cinnamon, much to Jonathan’s amusement. But he had let the names stand. “So what are you going to call the two colts? Mustard and Horseradish?” he had quipped.

  Virginia decided to pretend she had missed the jest. “The color’s all wrong for Mustard. Otherwise … I like it. Though I don’t care that much for Horseradish. But Ginger, Nutmeg, and Cinnamon—the colors are right. Just look at them.”

  Jonathan had nodded and grinned, rolling his eyes.

  The two young colts ended up being Navajo and Cherokee. Jonathan had smiled his agreement. “They have the pride and strength of young braves. I like that.”

  But now the five were being prepared to fetch a good price at the local market. Someone else would be given the pleasure of showing off the fine animals.

  Virginia, too, had been drawn to Cinnamon. Besides being a beauty, she was the most responsive to affection, seeming to thrive on neck pats and nose rubs. She was always the first to the corral fence whenever Virginia ventured outside, which was a very rare treat on the wintry days following the birth of Martha. But Cinnamon called to her each time that she so much as appeared on the porch steps. Virginia wished she could have spent more time with the filly.

  Even young Mindy, on her
trips out with Jonathan, had the horse gently nudging for more attention, though Mindy now usually shook off or ignored such attempts. In the past she would have climbed the corral fence and never seemed to tire of patting one shiny neck or another.

  Virginia wished they did not have to sell any of their animals. She had grown attached to them and knew that Jonathan had, as well. But it was true—they needed the money. The animals were not meant to be pets but were to make a living for the Lewis household.

  We need the money, Virginia reminded herself again. It had been tough getting started. What with the expense of building a house, taking on the raising of a child, and having a new baby. She was almost surprised and very thankful that they had not had to extend their debt. Only the house was not completely paid for. Jonathan had thought he might have to spend money on extra winter feed, but the mild winter had thus far helped them in that regard.

  Still, it was a worr y, this effort to balance accounts. It weighed on Virginia, and though Jonathan did not speak of it much, she knew that it weighed on him, as well.

  We’ll make it, she kept telling herself. God is faithful, and before we know it, spring will be here again. She had every confidence that Jonathan would get a good price for his fine animals.

  Virginia would have scarcely noted the slow passing of winter had not little Martha continued to fill out her newborn garments. Then Virginia was reminded to glance at the calendar on the wall. Martha was already two months old. In spite of the fullness of her days and the many tasks required in caring for family, Virginia knew that “baby days” passed quickly.

  Now if only they could guide Mindy through her current emotional turmoil with some measure of success. Virginia felt it would make life so much easier.

  Cinnamon had developed a limp, and Jonathan was puzzled as to why. As carefully as he examined her hoof and leg, he could not find anything that seemed to be wrong. He drove into town and consulted Danny by phone, who was in his last year of veterinary studies. Danny suggested everything he knew, but nothing seemed to help the filly.