The Midwife's Secret

Tom sighed. When the mules finished uprooting the first stump, Tom and Donald hitched them to the second. It was hard, physical work, and Tom was reminded of Clarissa’s asking, Why don’t you become the doctor or lawyer? Why do you do it all for your brothers? Why do you choose such difficult labor?

Because I feel like a trapped rabbit inside the walls of any office. I like fresh air and miles of wilderness, he’d told her, but obviously, she hadn’t been impressed.

Tom stepped beside his father. “How are your new horses doing?”

“They’re magnificent.” Pa beamed, making all of Tom’s perseverance worthwhile.

“Glad you like ’em.”

“Now, I think I’ve got some black licorice gum to deliver,” Pa said, gazing at Miss Clementine by the outdoor fire. He rooted for something in the top pocket of his red jacket. “Her favorite.”

With caution, Tom gazed at the two ladies, who were boiling a kettle of potatoes over an open flame. Realizing he ought to warn his pa about the type of women they were, Tom decided he would mention it when the two men were alone.

Toward noon, Tom refused Amanda’s offer of lunch and tea for the third time.

“What is it?” she finally asked. She’d removed her bonnet. Her mended kerchief held back some of her wavy black hair, but the rest tumbled over her shoulders. “If it’s about last evening, I’m sorry I pulled away from you…but you have…and I’m not interested…”

He grumbled. She wasn’t interested? Well, he wasn’t interested, either, to be hoodwinked and bamboozled by another conniving woman. Conniving, he repeated in his mind as he gazed into her fraudulent blue eyes. Cold, heartless, lying.

In the background, he heard Wolf bark, then Pa and Miss Clementine laugh. “For your information,” Tom said, “not that it’s any of your concern, Clarissa is not a big part of my life. And I’ve got a lot of work to do today.” He gave her a dismissive nod, hoping she’d walk away.

“Let me help—”

“No.” He straightened his shoulders and finally confronted her.

Her lips tightened. Her brows arched. “I knew it was a mistake to hire you.”

“How dare you say that.”

She placed her hands on her rounded hips and glared at him. “Then what is it? What am I supposed to think as you continue to play games and not accept my tea…and not accept my help…and not even look in my direction? Why are you so hostile? Because yesterday I didn’t accept your advances? Haven’t you ever been turned down before?”

Tom balked. “Is that what you think it’s about?”

“I know that a successful man like you, who has a booming business and the respect of the town, isn’t used to be given a no—”

“Stop before you regret it—”

“Why, every woman in town must be flattered beyond belief when you look in her direction—”

Tom cut her off with an iron grip on her arm, being careful not to hurt her. The heat of her flesh seeped into his fingers. Fury laced his words. “Would you like me more if you thought my life were difficult?”

Their eyes locked. She opened her mouth to answer.

“Well?” He tugged her closer, an inch away from his face.

Slowly she closed her lips and took a deep breath. His question left her speechless, and trembling.

He was shaking a bit himself. Releasing her, he stepped away.

With quivering lips, she hiked her skirts to leave.

Now that she’d opened up the discussion, he couldn’t stop himself from hurling a question at her stiffened back. “Why couldn’t people be more honest?”

She spun around. “Pardon?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were divorced, Amanda?”

Her gaze clouded. The question seemed to weigh on her, choking her. “Well…I…”

Maybe she did have a conscience, or was she just embarrassed she’d been caught in her own lie?

She stared at his rigid stance. “That’s why you’re upset.”

“Were you and your grandmother having a little chuckle at my expense?”

A flash of grief rippled across her face. “We weren’t laughing at you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“Because I…couldn’t.”

“The easily fooled jackass, Tom Murdock.”

Her eyes glistened in sympathy. She shook her head. “We weren’t laughing at you.”

“Turns out, I’ve got a few jokes of my own to tell. Like this property here, for instance. Zeb Finnigan took you to town. You paid five hundred, but I would have sold it to you for a whopping three.”

Another blow. She staggered. “What?”

He momentarily felt sorry for her. Was he being too hard on her? Was he taking out the rage he felt at Clarissa and Finnigan, at the only person here to take it?

“I see,” she said quietly. The mules brayed behind her as the beasts continued plodding. “By the way, how did you discover I was divorced?”

Wanting to protect Graham, Tom answered, “That’s not important.” He swooped down to pick his shovel off the ground.

“Then how do you know you can trust your source?”

She had the nerve to try to turn the tables on him? “Because he’s a Mountie.” He cursed himself for letting it slip out, but he couldn’t bridle his anger.

“You had Finnigan and me investigated.” Her face was full of strength. How quickly she’d pieced it together. “Do you think having me investigated is any more honest than me claiming I’m widowed?”

Her sudden question jarred him. His mind swirled with doubts.

“Did your…Mountie friend discover anything else?”

“Like what? The reason you divorced?” Tom shook his head. “No. That’s your private business, and I don’t really care.”

She shuddered at his barb.

He continued recklessly. “One of the Calgary Mounties visited the Cattlemen’s Association, and your name came up. Your husband had been there the day before for a meeting, boasting about his new wife and children.”

Her eyes flashed. “His n-new children?”

“Twin boys. Born last week.”

Amanda stumbled back and didn’t speak for a long time. The tail of her flannel shirt caught the gentle breeze. “Are they healthy babies?”

Of all the things for her to say, what a strange choice. But then again, maybe it was natural because she was a midwife. “As far as I know. Your former husband was giving out cigars.”

This time when her shoulders sagged, he knew his words had stung. He stepped back for a moment, trying to understand. Beneath his hat, a bead of perspiration trickled down his temple.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he obviously had.

Apparently he didn’t know how to talk to a divorced woman. Did she still care about her husband? Her husband had divorced her, so maybe she still had feelings for him. But how silly of Tom to assume anything. The issues were likely complicated, each divorce different in how the folks dealt with each other.

He wavered, not knowing if he should apologize for being blunt. The woman was divorced, but if she truly meant nothing to Tom, then why had he gotten so fired up? His confusion kept him rooted, and his stubborn pride from apologizing.

“I’m glad, then,” she said quietly. “William always wanted boys to take over the ranch and carry on his family name. And beautiful children coming into the world is always a blessed event.”

He could see the truthfulness in her eyes this time. They were not conspiring blue eyes. They held that tenderness and depth of sorrow he couldn’t fathom. No matter what the circumstances of her divorce, she was generous to put the innocent babies before her own wounds.

When she slipped into the woods, saying she had to haul water, he watched her proud, retreating form. But as soon as she thought she was out of his view, she slumped against the nearest tree, as if crumpling beneath a heavy blow. For some unknown reason, his heart trembled along with hers.

Had he done that to her?

“I’ve got some mighty interestin’ news,” Ellie said a week later when she came to retrieve Donald after his day of work. She’d brought her older boy, Pierce, to carry the crate of heavy jam preserves that she was using as payment for her care. “I heard it in the mercantile today.”

Standing in the warm sunset trimming bushes, Amanda motioned to red-haired, sixteen-year-old Pierce to take the jams into the shack to Grandma, then focused on Ellie. She smoothed her fallen strands of strawberry hair into her top-knot bun, the movement causing her pregnant belly to protrude beneath her apron. The tender image brought a smile to Amanda’s lips.

She and Ellie were spending lots of time together. It was wonderful to have a friend to confide in, although Amanda hadn’t yet been able to share her deepest personal problems.

Ellie watched Pierce walk to the shack. It seemed whatever she had to say, she’d say it when her son was out of earshot.

Tom and Donald glanced up from where they were hinging a cedar door onto the new root cellar, which they’d built into the side of a small hill. The clearing for the cabin had been leveled, and the six-by-six boards laid for the floor. Toward the back of the structure, where the kitchen would be, a shiny water pump handle protruded three feet above the new well. It was starting to shape up nicely, and Amanda was counting down the days when she’d no longer have to work with Tom Murdock. The sting of their last argument still burned in her cheeks.

Her divorce was still no one’s business but hers.

She knew it wasn’t Tom’s fault that he’d been the messenger about William’s new sons.

After this year’s winter, the coldest blizzard they’d had in decades, she’d heard William had lost half his cattle in the freeze. Knowing how difficult that struggle must have been for his wife, Amanda was happy the young woman had healthy babies to keep her company.

But Amanda’s argument with Tom just went to prove how different they were.

She watched the rich outline of his shoulders as he heaved on the door. Did he know she’d lost a baby? She doubted it. He hadn’t mentioned it when they’d argued. Neither she nor William had registered the baby’s birth—as most parents didn’t—so the Mounties wouldn’t have easily discovered it.

“What is it?” Amanda asked after Pierce had disappeared inside. She offered her friend a chair.

Ellie preferred to stand. “Two orphans are comin’ to town.”

“Orphans?” Amanda felt her pulse rush in surprise.

“It’s too bad your cabin’s not built yet, aye, Amanda, or you could take ’em.”

Amanda’s mind began to race with possibilities. With hope. “Who are they?”

“Their pa was a telegrapher fer the CP Railway, and he’d been workin’ up at the camp that was surveyin’ the land north of here, at Lake Louise. Two years ago he and his wife drowned in a canoein’ accident. One of the older women in camp has been lookin’ after the children, but I hear her rheumatism’s gettin’ the better of her, and she can’t get around anymore.”

“Do they have any other family?”

“An aunt somewhere in Quebec, I hear, but the rumor is—” Ellie rushed forward and lowered her voice “—she’s got a terrible marriage, with five children of ’er own. She doesn’t want any more mouths to feed.”

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