Twenty-eight
“Ah, muchacho, you are supposed to be going to sleep,” Antonie scolded gently as she picked Camden up. “You are dry and your little belly is full. Now is when you should nap. A little walk, then back to bed and sleep, eh?”
She smiled as she strolled through the house, the infant looking all around as she went. It was good practice, she told herself wryly. Her own baby was due soon. Taking care of Camden had insured that she would not find an infant a strange, perhaps frightening, little creature.
Stepping out onto the veranda, she looked around, then shook her head. She was totally alone. It was a rare occurrence, and she suspected that Royal would be furious when he found out. In the three months since she and Royal had been married, there had always been someone to keep watch. Seeing movement by the stables, she hastily corrected herself. She was not totally alone. Maria’s son Sancho, a lively boy of eight, was still around. Even as she reminded herself of his presence, he smiled, waved, and hurried over to her side.
“I think there is a storm coming, señora,” he said as he poked at Camden playfully.
Looking up at the sky, Antonie realized how black it was growing. “Sí, it does look bad. Well, that will mean that the men will be coming in soon.”
“Sí, if they are not caught by surprise. It happens sometimes. I hope Mama doesn’t try to come home in it.”
“Ah, no, that would not be good. I will have lunch soon. You can eat with me.”
“I would like that, señora. It is strange not to have anyone around.”
“Very strange,” Antonie agreed.
And very bad planning, she added silently. Every plan had had Royal’s approval, but she was certain he had not realized how they were all made for the same day and how it would neatly result in a deserted ranch. He had tried to be subtle about her being closely watched, but she had seen how he had arranged it.
Glancing at the threatening sky again, she half wished she had gone into town with the women to get supplies. At least she would have had adult company when the storm came. But she hadn’t wanted to go. Her stomach had not grown too large, but she was uncomfortable, today more so than usual. The thought of the bumpy ride in the wagon was still less attractive than being caught nearly alone in the house during a bad storm.
“You do what’s needed outside for a storm, and I will shut up the house, chico,” she told Sancho. “Then we eat.”
“Sí, señora. I’ll get right to it.”
Smiling faintly as she went back into the house, she took Camden back to his bed. The baby whimpered a little but finally went to sleep. Checking to be sure that everything was shut tightly as she went, she headed to the kitchen to get a meal for herself and Sancho. She did not feel hungry, but she felt she ought to at least try to eat something. A number of people had impressed upon her the need of eating well for the baby’s sake.
The storm hit just as she and Sancho finished their meal. Antonie stood spellbound by the sudden fury nature had unleashed. She then heard Camden wail, and sighed.
“The thunder woke the baby, señora.”
“Sí. Probably frightens the poor muchacho. You will stay in here, Sancho. In the house.”
“Sí, señora. The men did not come back.”
“No.” She sighed and started toward the stairs. “We will have to brave this alone, Sancho. Por Dios, I hate storms.”
They had been in the parlor for a while when Antonie suddenly tensed. Her continuous discomfort seemed to have gained an alarming regularity to it. Remembering one of the many things Maria had told her, she watched the clock for a while and felt her heart sink. Even in her ignorance, she could no longer ignore the fact that she was in labor.
“Ay de mi, why now?” she whispered.
“Señora?” Sancho looked up from where he played on the floor with Camden.
“Do you think the storm eases?”
“Well, the thunder and lightning are moving away, I think.”
“Sí. They are not so loud, not right overhead.”
“But it is still raining buckets, señora. The wind is still very strong.”
She only had to listen for a moment to know that he was right. The wind was driving the rain against the windows with an almost alarming force. It had the strength to go on for hours. Even though the thunder and lightning had lessened, moved a distance away, it was still too bad to expect anyone to show up and lend a hand.
For a moment, she fought a blinding panic. With so many people around all the time, she had never once contemplated the possibility of being alone when her time came. The depth of her ignorance about what was ahead was enough to terrify her. She fought that fear that pushed her toward unthinking panic. Now was a time for clarity of thought and calmness. The fact that her only source of help was a boy of eight made it hard, but she finally managed.
Although she had never seen a human birth, she had seen horses, even cattle, give birth. Juan had once said that the process was much the same for people. The slight lessening of her own ignorance brought her closer to being calm.
“Sancho,” she said quietly, “I know you are a brave boy, but you are going to have to be very brave now.”
“Something is wrong, señora?”
“The baby has decided to come now.” She almost smiled at the way his big dark eyes grew huge and went to her stomach.
“There is no one here. It can’t come now.”
“The baby doesn’t care that we are alone. Ah, how I wish O’Neill had not left after the wedding, but I’m going to have to do this by myself.”
“Can you do that?” Sancho asked, his lips trembling.
“If an Indian woman can, I can. I have heard that they go off alone to have babies. I will need you to help a little though.”
“Sí, señora. Do you want me to get someone?”
“I think you would be blown off your horse, muchacho. No, stay here. We must heat water, get clean clothes, and a few other things. While I am busy, I will need you to help with Camden and to keep watch and guard. Can you do that?”
“Sí, señora.”
“Perhaps we should lock the doors, too.”
“What if the others come back?”
“They will let you know it is them, then you can let them in,” Antonie instructed him.
“Ah, sí.”
“Now, let’s get some water heated. I will put it in pots you can handle, for there will come a time when I might need some but cannot get it. Not much is needed. It is just for cleaning.”
“Is it as messy as when a horse foals?”
“I think it might be. I cannot be sure, amigo. This is my first and I have never seen it done.”
“Are you afraid, señora?”
“Sí. I thought someone would be here. Your mama, I mean, or someone like her.”
“Sí. I think the patrón forgot today was the day the women go to get supplies.”
She nodded and, after setting water on to heat, went to look for clean linen. A little smile touched her face as she saw how Sancho, holding little Camden, trailed after her. The boy looked very worried, but she knew she could count on him to do whatever she told him to. She just hoped she would not have to ask too much of him.
By the time she had everything readied to her satisfaction, she was having contractions. “All right, Sancho, you can put Camden in his bed there. That’s right. Now, go downstairs and keep watch.”
“Shouldn’t I stay with you, señora?”
“No, chico. I must get into a nightgown and into bed. I will call you if I need you.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. If I call, you’ll hear me. Now, if someone comes that we do not know and tries to come in, you are to come up here.”
“Sí, señora.”
The moment he left, she got undressed. She was naked and just sponging off when her water broke. Struggling to clean up and get a nightgown on, she wryly mused that that could probably be considered convenient. She had the sinking feeling that it could well be her only piece of good luck.
Finally crawling into bed, she placed her knife nearby. The pain was growing bad enough that she was a little afraid that she might not be clearheaded when the time came. She fought to endure the pain, yet conserve her strength and keep her mind from becoming too fogged by pain and exhaustion.
“Señora, señora, we have help now,” Sancho shouted as he raced into the room.
Caught up in a strong contraction, Antonie could only rasp “O’Neill” when the big man appeared in the doorway.
“Where the hell is everybody?” O’Neill demanded, but he did not wait for a reply. “Get some more water, there’s a good lad. I have to wash up.”
She could only watch in silent wide-eyed amazement as O’Neill stripped down, washed up, and put on clean trousers. He was certainly a lot of man, she thought a little wildly. As another contraction ripped through her, she thanked God for O’Neill, as she was not doing very well at all at staying clearheaded.
“Sure ’n I’m real surprised that that man of yours would leave you alone,” O’Neill muttered as he checked her progress.
“A mistake,” Antonie gasped. “Do you always run about in bad weather?”
“I told you I’d be back to see the babe. A little rain won’t hurt me. Now, you just concentrate on getting this babe out, lass. I’ll do the rest.”
“That will be nice,” she whispered.
* * *
Royal stared out of the grimy window of the line shack they had sought shelter in. Although the thunder and lightning had lessened, the rain still fell hard. He should be glad that he was out of it, but he could not seem to relax. The hands and his brothers were calm, and he almost resented it.
“Pacing the room won’t change the weather,” Cole murmured as Royal walked by him again. “Your deal, Denton.”
“What’s eating at you, Royal?” Denton asked as he shuffled the cards.
“Damned if I know.” He scowled out at the weather again. “I’m uneasy. Something doesn’t feel right, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Expectant father,” Denton muttered.
“That’s probably it.” Royal shook his head. “Stupid. Maria is there.”
“No, she ain’t,” Cole murmured, studying his cards.
“What do you mean, no?” Royal demanded.
“Hell, it’s the third Monday of the month. Supplies.”
“Yeh, that’s right,” one of the hands agreed. “My Deidre went, too.”
“And my wife,” another said.
“Well, let me think.” Royal ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe I did remember that, and her being without a woman’s what bothered me. But who else is at home?”
“Oro, Patricia, Tomás, and Justin are working on Oro’s house. This’ll have caught them there,” Denton offered.
“Old Pete went to get his teeth done,” Jed said.
“Well, who the hell’s at the house?” Royal yelled.
“Now calm down,” Cole soothed as he counted out a card for each hand and member of the household. “Let’s do this scientific like.” His lips moving as he murmured each name, he slowly accounted for everyone.
“Who’s this? There’s only three cards left,” Royal fought against a strong urge to panic.
“Antonie, Sancho, and Camden,” Cole answered reluctantly.
“My wife is alone at the ranch with only an eight-year-old boy and an infant?”
“Now, calm down. I might be wrong. Let me do it again.”
“Don’t bother. I’m going home.”
Denton leapt to his feet to intercept Royal. “Look, you can’t go out in this.”
“Antonie can take care of herself,” Cole said.
“Against bandidos, Indians, or the like, yes. But what the hell is she to do if the baby starts coming?” He curtly nodded when no one had an answer for him. “I’m going back to the house.” Royal grabbed his coat, flung it on, and left.
“Oh, hell,” Cole muttered and stood up to reach for his coat. “No, you fellows stay here,” he said when he saw the hands moving to follow. “Let’s keep this idiocy in the family. Besides, even if she is having a baby, a houseful of soaking cowboys ain’t going to do her a hell of a lot of good. You coming, Denton?” Cole started out the door.
“What do you think?” Denton followed.
“I think we’re probably going to drown,” Cole yelled above the fury of the storm.
Royal sensed his brothers close behind him but did not look back to be sure. He doubted he could see them if they were more than a few feet away. Despite his urge to hurry, he was forced to go slow because the rain made it hard to see, as well as making the ground somewhat unsafe. If he had not ridden over every inch of the land almost from the day he was born, he was not sure he would have been able to find his way back to the house. The wind drove the rain so hard that he had to stay hunched in the saddle, his face averted most of the time.
When he reached the ranch, he went to the stables first. The place looked deserted and no one answered his call. As Cole and Denton arrived only a moment after he did, Royal saw that the wagon was gone, which meant that the women had not returned. Adding to his increasing worry was the presence of a horse he did not recognize.
“Hell, never seen the place look so deserted,” Cole muttered.
“We can see to the horses in a minute,” Royal said even as he started toward the house. “I want to check on Antonie first.”
He jogged to the house only to find the door locked. For a moment, he could not believe it, but then began to pound on the door. It was several minutes before he got any answer, then a small voice demanded to know who it was.
“Sancho?” he yelled. “That you? Open the door.”
“You say who you are first.”
“Damnit, Sancho, it’s Royal. Open the damn door.”
“Oh, señor, it is good that you came back,” Sancho cried as he quickly opened the door and let the three men in.
Removing his coat and hat, Royal demanded, “Where the hell is everybody? Are they all gone?”
“Sí, señor. Only the señora, Camden, and me were left here. Then the storm came. The señora had me lock the doors, patrón, so that no one could sneak in, eh? I have been watching the doors because the señora couldn’t do it.”
Although the boy did not seem overly upset, there was something about Sancho’s mood that made Royal’s heart skip a beat. “Where is the señora?”
“Up in her bed, patrón. The baby decided to come. She said it couldn’t wait.”
The same fear that had driven him to race through the driving rain now froze him to the spot. He stared up the stairs, unable to believe that what he had feared was exactly what had happened. It did not seem possible that even in this matter things could not go smoothly.
“Antonie’s having the baby now?” he croaked.
“Sí, señor.”
Even as Sancho spoke a cry came from upstairs. Royal jumped, then started to race up the stairs. After only a brief hesitation, the others followed. Coming to an abrupt halt in the doorway to their room, Royal froze again.
Antonie heard the disturbance even through her pain. O’Neill kept telling her that it would be a few minutes now, but she felt as if he had been saying that for hours. To see that Royal had come home despite the weather, seemed a mixed blessing to her. She had decided that childbirth had to be one of the most undignified things a woman had to endure, and she did not really want Royal to see her like this, yet she felt a need for his presence.
Royal did not believe his eyes, was not sure he wanted to. Antonie lay on the bed gripping the rails of the headboard, clearly in great pain. A huge, redheaded, bare-chested man was very interested in what was happening between Antonie’s legs. Royal’s stunned mind took a moment to recognize the man.
“O’Neill?” He took a step into the room.
“Don’t get any closer to the lass ’til you get dried off and cleaned up,” O’Neill said.
“But . . .”
“If you’re real quick, you might get to see this stubborn babe come into the world.”
“Come on, Royal,” Cole urged. “I’ll help you. Denton, can you and Sancho see to the horses?”
“But . . .”
Tugging Royal down the hall, Cole said, “O’Neill knows what he’s doing. If he says clean up first, that’s what you will do. Just thank God that he showed up when he did, when he was needed.”
“But where the hell did he come from?”
“Wondered the same thing when he arrived in the nick of time for Tomás. Come on. Let’s move.”
“Royal,” Antonie gasped as she saw her husband towed away, then, when the doorway was empty again, began to wonder if she had really seen him at all. “Royal was here?”
“He was, lass,” O’Neill replied. “He’ll be right back. The man’s been in the rain and mud and with horses. He washes up first.”
“Must be clean, eh?”
“Damn right. Now. I figure you only have a few minutes to decide if you want him here or not.”
“You’d keep him out if I asked it?”
“If I have to tie him up to do it.”
“So undignified, this having babies.”
“It is that, lass.” He laughed, then said quietly, “Aye, undignified, but look at what you gain.”
“Sí. He will want to be here. I think I want him even though I don’t want him looking too much.”
“Well, I’ll see how he acts. I can’t have him getting in the way.”
“Soon?” she gasped. “It will be soon?”
“It will, lass. I know it doesn’t seem like it to you, but things are moving along smoothly and quickly.”
Still doing up the buttons of a clean shirt, Royal hurried back to Antonie. Again he hesitated in the doorway. There was a tension in the air that quickly infected him. Then Antonie reached out her hand to him, and he hurried to her side.
“Almost too late, Royal,” O’Neill said almost absently. “When I say push, darlin’, you push with all your might.”
Spellbound, Royal watched as his child entered the world. He was only faintly aware of how tightly Antonie gripped his hand. The pain she was unknowingly inflicting did not seem important. He held his breath as he waited for the newborn child in O’Neill’s big hands to show indisputable proof of life. The moment the baby cried, Royal closed his eyes in relief and felt Antonie’s hand go limp.
“Alive,” she whispered, smiled weakly, and fainted.
“O’Neill!”
“Only a faint,” O’Neill announced with certainty after a quick check. “Nothing to worry about. You’ve got a fine son.”
“A son,” Royal murmured as he moved to stare at the baby O’Neill cleaned, despite the child’s vociferous protests.
“Sounds healthy.”
“Oh, yes.” Royal laughed shakily, then had to turn his attention to his nephew who began to cry in sympathy. “Denton,” he called as he strode into the hall holding Camden.
Denton was before him an instant later, taking his son into his arms. “How’s Antonie?”
“Fine. I have to get back.”
“Wait.” Denton grasped Royal by the arm.
“A boy,” Royal answered before Denton could ask, then, slipping free of his brother’s hold, hurried back to Antonie.
After helping O’Neill clean up the unconscious Antonie, Royal sat by the bed and watched her sleep. He was only faintly aware of Cole delivering some food and drink for him, which he dutifully consumed but did not taste. Except for the times he responded to a compulsion to see that a new child really did sleep in the cradle in their room, his gaze never left the sleeping Antonie. He had to hear her talk to him before he could fully accept O’Neill’s assurances that she was fine and would soon be as good as new.
He could not erase the sight of her body racked with pain. She was so small and delicate. Royal did not know how her body could take such strain without damage. O’Neill had assured him that none had been inflicted, but he was not fully convinced of that yet. He wanted to see her awake and recovering, acting like the Antonie he had left only this morning.
Antonie woke up slowly. Her alertness accelerated when she became aware of the change in her body. For a moment she had thought it all a dream, but the sense of emptiness and the persistent aching told her differently. Her gaze swept the room, then rested on the child curled up in the cradle.
“Alive,” she whispered.
Sitting up quickly, Royal took her hand in his. “Yes, Antonie. We’ve got a son and he’s very much alive.”
She looked at him and smiled. “You came home.”
“Yes. God, I’m sorry, Antonie. I should’ve noticed, should have made sure someone was here for you.”
She put her fingers against his lips to stop his litany of guilt. “I should have noticed, too. If not for the storm I could have sent Sancho for someone. O’Neill came and everything is all right.”
“Is it? Are you all right?”
“Sí. O’Neill must have told you so.”
“He did but,” Royal shook his head, “there was so much pain, and you’re so small. I just thought, well, if I heard you talking again, it meant O’Neill was right.”
“Well, he is right. Even now the pain becomes a memory. I could use a drink though.”
After helping her sit up, he handed her a glass of water. “O’Neill says you are to put the baby to your breast.” Even as he spoke, he gently picked up his son and brought him to the bed. “Unless, well, I never thought to ask if you wanted a wet nurse for him.”
Setting her glass aside, Antonie took her child into her arms, undid her gown, and urged the sleepy child to suckle. “No. He is my baby. And that is what these are for, eh?”
“We-ell,” he sat beside her, enthralled by the sight. “I can think of one or two other uses.”
“Rogue.”
“Probably.”
“Juan Ramirez Bancroft. Nice, eh?”
Sighing, Royal said, “You know I don’t really want my son named after a bandido.”
“I promised Juan I would name my first son after him. On his deathbed. He said, ‘I will be remembered. It is enough.’ ”
Closing his eyes briefly, Royal said carefully, “People like him are not forgotten quickly, Antonie.”
“I understand your reluctance, but I promised him,” she said quietly. “He was my papa, Royal.”
“I know. We’ll compromise. Ramirez is all right. It’s a common name. No one will know it’s the name of a notorious bandido.”
“Ramirez Bancroft? Is not Ramirez a strange first name?”
“I’d rather that than everyone getting my son confused with Juan Ramirez, bandido, most wanted man in the southwest for twenty years. On his birth papers we’ll write Ramirez Juan Bancroft, but we’ll call him Ram or R.J. It’s common to shorten names. You can tell him all about Juan when he’s old enough, but at least he won’t spend his life trying to explain why he’s named after a bandido.”
“You think people will still remember Juan when our son is grown?”
“There’s a good chance of it. He was a part of this land for twenty years. He was a legend while he was still alive. His is the kind of tale that lingers. Sometimes the outlaws get more fame and are better remembered than the lawful.”
“All right. Ramirez. Ram. Juan will understand. You can name the next baby.”
“That won’t be for a while yet.”
“Don’t you want more than one baby?”
“I want a houseful, but I also want you. We’re going to be careful. We can let time pass between each child. I don’t want to make you old before your time by keeping you pregnant. We’re supposed to live so that we can see our children have children.”
“And tell them how to raise theirs,” she added with a smile.
“Exactly.” He looked at her and their son and lightly hugged them both. “Thank you,” he whispered, his lips pressed to her forehead.
“You are very welcome, husband.”