Читать книгу The Midwife - Carolyn Davidson, Carolyn Davidson - Страница 10

Kirby Falls, MinnesotaMay 1892

“Miss Leah!” Against her screen door, a nose pushed the wire as eager eyes gazed into the parlor. On the porch, Kristofer Lundstrom waited impatiently for Leah’s response, his hand on the spool handle, only good manners keeping him from stepping inside.

“Come in, Kristofer,” she called, her feet moving quickly across the kitchen floor. He was late today. School had been dismissed for almost a half hour already and Leah had been listening for his voice for nearly twenty minutes.

She could set her clock by the boy. His feet clattered up her steps and across the small porch every afternoon, his intentions clear. Always there was the traditional greeting, a nod of his head as he spoke Leah’s name. And then his eyes searched for the small form of his sister, seeking her out as if she drew him like a lodestone.

Even at six years of age, he was the picture of his father, his hair golden in the sunlight, his eyes a pale blue beneath dark brows. He was tall for six, straight and sturdy, somehow seeming stronger now that he must stand alone, without the hovering presence of his mother.

Leah touched his head with her fingertips, ruffling the hair just a bit. “Did you stay after school, Kris?”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I saw Pa at the store and he had me to wait for a few minutes while he bought something for Karen.”

Leah looked down at the package the boy carried. “For the baby? What is it?” She reached for the paper-wrapped parcel and Kris placed it in her hands.

“He thought you might need to make her something for summer. You know, not such heavy stuff like she wears now.”

Leah’s fingers were quick as she untied the string and sought the contents of the package. A piece of lightweight cotton, batiste, she suspected, met her gaze. It was covered in a delicate print of pink flowers, with pale green leaves forming a vine upon which the blooms and buds trailed.

“Oh, so pretty,” she whispered, already envisioning the dress she would create from it. Tiny puffed sleeves and a high bodice, with a long skirt that would cover bare baby toes in the warm summer days.

“Tell your father I’ll make it up before Sunday, so he can see it,” she said with a smile.

From the kitchen, the baby squealed her opinion of being neglected even for so short a time, and Kristofer headed toward her door, intent on seeing his sister. Leah heard his murmurs of welcome, her smile widening as the baby greeted her visitor with cooing sounds signifying her pleasure.

“She gets bigger every day, don’t she, Miss Leah?” the boy asked, bending low to place a kiss on the infant’s downy head. He hastened to the sink, with backward glances as he went. “I’ll wash up quick, so I can hold her, all right?”

Leah nodded. “She’s been waiting for you, Kris. It’s almost time for her to have a bottle. Would you like to feed her?”

Kristofer smiled, showing a gap where two front teeth were missing. “Yes, ma’am, I surely would.”

That his hands were still damp was a small matter, Leah decided as he held out eager arms, and she nodded at the rocking chair, gathering up the four-month-old infant from the clothes basket where she spent most of her daytime hours.

With a pillow beneath his elbow, Kristofer held the baby tightly, offering the bottle to her eager mouth. Tiny hands groped for a hold on the glass, and the boy chuckled as he shared his grip with his sister’s slender fingers.

“Look, Miss Leah! She’s holding it, too. Before long, she won’t need me to help her. She’ll be eating all by herself.”

Leah shook her head. “We’ll still hold her, Kris. It’s important that we cuddle her while she eats. It’s what happens when a mama nurses her baby and holds her tight. Just because Karen has to drink from a bottle doesn’t mean she has to do without the cuddling.”

His small face was stricken. “I didn’t think about that. She’s sure lucky she has you, isn’t she?” He bent his head to look with longing eyes at the babe he held. “I wish we could have her at home where I could see her all the time. I’ll bet my pa wishes he could see her, too.”

“He comes on Sunday afternoons,” Leah reminded him. And those visits were the highlight of Leah’s week, she admitted to herself. The sight of Garlan Lundstrom on her porch after church on Sunday was welcome—and not only for the eggs he brought to her, emptying his small blue-speckled enamel bucket into her egg bowl on the dresser with care.

His next task was to transfer two dollars into her keeping, placing it on her kitchen table. Then he inquired about the health of his daughter, watching as Leah brought the baby from her basket to the rocking chair where he settled himself. He managed to look at home there, his big body filling it, his feet flat on the floor, his arms surrounding the bundle that was his daughter.

Leah had found it easier to leave him there alone with the child rather than watch as he spoke in halting words and sentences, his voice soft and almost too tender to bear. Gar Lundstrom was a good father, a kind man. And yet, he wore a harshness about him that spoke of long, lonely days and nights.

Only when he held the baby or spoke to his son did that veil of austerity part. His eyes, when he looked into Leah’s, were icy. His hands, when he took the babe from her arms, were hard and callused. His mouth, when he said his greetings and farewells, was firm and thin lipped.

He did not allow her to share the warmth of the spirit he spent so generously upon his children, and that was a pain Leah bore in silence. Gar Lundstrom looked at her with eyes that still held chill accusation. Even as he spoke words of thanks for her care of the babe, he was reticent. His only generosity was in the money he provided for that care.

She picked up the dainty fabric Kris had brought, her fingers smoothing it as she folded it neatly. “I’ll make up Karen’s dress tomorrow,” she told the boy.

He nodded absently, caught in the wonder of the baby’s blue eyes and the plump body that filled his arms. “I’ll be glad when summer comes and we take her home with us, Miss Leah.”

“Did your father find someone to keep house, Kris?” she asked quietly, holding her breath lest his answer shatter her heart. The presence of a baby had filled this small house to overflowing with warmth, and she had played the game for four months already, with herself as not only nursemaid but mother to the child.

Kris shook his head. “Naw. Mrs. Andersen said she has to keep house for Lester. My pa said Lester was old enough to be on his own, but his ma doesn’t think so.”

Leah smothered a laugh. Lester Andersen was a big strapping man of twenty-two, working at the lumber mill at the north end of town. If his mother didn’t spoil him so thoroughly, he might make a good husband for some woman, or so the ladies at the store said beneath their breaths.

Where Gar Lundstrom would find his housekeeper and child minder was a problem he would have to solve on his own, Leah decided with a sigh. And if he didn’t come up with an answer when the six months’ time was up, she would continue to accept his two dollars every week and bank half of it gladly. Her dresser drawer held a tidy sum besides, hidden in a wooden box beneath her extra nightgown. Her laundry service was prospering, with seven clients every week.

“Miss Leah?” Kristofer’s small face held a frown. “I have to go home now. Pa will be waiting for me at the store. I told him I’d ride home on the wagon with him.”

Leah nodded, rising from her chair to take the baby from the boy’s embrace. “I’ll see you again,” she said lightly.

“Tomorrow. I’ll be here tomorrow. My pa says I mustn’t get in your way or be a bother, Miss Leah. You must let me know if it’s not conven…” He hesitated, as if he sought the word his father had used.

“Convenient? It’s always convenient for you to stop by, Kris,” she said easily, following him to the front door. Her hand rested on his shoulder for just a second as she stood beside him. He hesitated there, his face soft with yearning as he stood on tiptoe to press his lips against the brow of the baby Leah held.

And then he was gone, the door slamming behind him as he jumped from the porch, ignoring the steps, and ran to the gate. He half turned, lifting a hand in farewell as he opened the gate and crossed the street to make his way toward the grocery store.

Leah watched as he picked up a stone, examined it and stuck it in his pocket. She smiled, then walked back across the parlor and into her kitchen, bouncing the baby as she walked.

“He’ll be back tomorrow, Karen. And on Sunday, your papa will be here to see you.” It would be three days until Sunday. Three long days.

The spring was unusually warm for Minnesota. All the farmers predicted an early cutting of hay. By the end of May the crops were coming up in the fields, and the cows and horses in the pastures were accompanied by their own yield of calves and colts. The farmers’ wives tended clutches of newly hatched chicks, gathering them into the henhouses at night lest the cool air should creep beneath their mothers’ hovering wings and kill the youngsters.

Leah stepped into the hubbub of activity in the general store on a Monday morning in early June, Karen Lundstrom on her shoulder. Around her, the local ladies were catching up on gossip, most of them repeating stories heard at Sunday church.

“Ah, Mrs. Gunderson, here with the little one this morning,” Hazel Nielsen called out. “Bonnie, come see your friend,” she said, moving aside the curtain that led to the storeroom.

Eyes swung in Leah’s direction, and she found a smile for the eager ladies who hovered around her like bees surrounding a hive.

“How is the baby doing?” Lula Dunbar asked, her forefinger nudging at a dimpled elbow. “Look how blue her eyes are, just like her mama’s were.” She dropped her voice in deference to the dead mother. “Not pure ice like her pa’s, thank the good Lord. He’s a cold man, that one.”

Leah swallowed a retort and turned to listen to Eva Landers, the town’s postmistress, who had left her desk in the corner of the store, where she had been sorting the day’s mail.

“Let me see that little girl. What a darling she is!” Eva’s long, slender fingers threaded through Karen’s hair with a gentle touch, and Leah halted her progress through the store. “Don’t pay any mind to Lula Dunbar,” Eva whispered next to Leah’s ear. “She hasn’t said anything nice about a man since the day she married Hobart.”

Leah smothered a laugh. Eva was a kindly woman, married to the undertaker, who doubled as the town’s cabinetmaker. It was handy, being accomplished at woodworking, when you were the one in charge of providing caskets for the occasional burial in town. Joseph was a sturdy man, solemn, as befitted his occupation, and Leah had often wondered how he managed to catch a joyous woman like Eva.

“I’ll stop by for tea, if I may, later this afternoon,” Eva suggested brightly.

Leah nodded eagerly. Visitors were frequent but usually bearing some cut needing stitching or seeking a poultice or remedy for the ills of another. Her practice had expanded since the winter months, ever since the Lundstrom baby had been hers to care for. As if every woman in town wanted a peek at the child, Leah had been inundated with requests for cough syrup or chest rub.

“Leah! It’s good to see you.” Bonnie Nielsen came from the stockroom, brushing at dust on her sleeve as she passed her mother behind the counter. “What can I get for you today?”

Leah groped in her dress pocket for the list she’d made up at breakfast this morning. “Not too much, Bonnie. Are there any early peas, yet?”

Bonnie nodded. “Old Mrs. Havelock planted some next to the house where they get the morning sun, and she covered them at night so they wouldn’t freeze last month. She brought me a peck of them this morning.”

“I’ll take a pound, if you can spare them,” Leah said quickly, aware of the treat she’d been offered. “How are the potatoes?”

“Pretty much shriveled up, I’m afraid,” Bonnie answered. “I’ll see what I can find for you.”

“If you need potatoes, you need only ask, Mrs. Gunderson,” a male voice said from behind her. A hush fell over the store as Gar Lundstrom stated his offer, and Leah pasted a smile on her face before she turned to face him.

“I didn’t see you in the store, Mr. Lundstrom,” she said brightly.

“I just came in. Just in time to hear you ask about potatoes. I have plenty left in the dugout. I’ll bring you some tomorrow.”

She shook her head quickly. “Oh, you mustn’t bother. Just bring them to me on Sunday when you come to see the baby.” Leah felt a flush climb her cheeks as she became aware of the hush within the store as the women moved closer, the better to hear the words she spoke.

Garlan Lundstrom shifted uncomfortably, as if he had only now become aware of the several women who surrounded him. “Well, maybe I can hang a bag over my boy’s horse when he rides to school tomorrow. He can bring them to you.”

Leah nodded. “That would be wonderful. I’ll pay you for them when I see you next.”

His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed at her words. “You will feed my child with them, no?”

Leah swallowed, unwilling to get into a confrontation in the middle of the store. “Yes, certainly,” she agreed.

“Then you don’t need to pay me.” His gaze scanned her, softening only when he smiled at his daughter. “Give the child to me,” he ordered gruffly, holding out his arms. “I’ll carry her to your house and wait for you there.”

Leah gave over the child, nodding her thanks as Gar turned from her to leave the store. Karen was growing by leaps and bounds, her small, round body weighing heavily after a time in Leah’s arms.

The store buzzed with half a dozen voices as the tall Swede left, the door closing with a bang behind him. “He’s a stern one,” Lula Dunbar said with a sniff, peering at Leah over her glasses. “You’ll do well to be rid of him once he finds someone to live out there and tend those children and his house for him. Though I don’t know where he’s going to look next. I declare he’s asked every old maid and widow in the county.”

Leah shrugged. “I’m in no hurry to have him take the baby. She’s good company.”

Bonnie called her name, and Leah turned gladly to heed her questions. “Do you want green tea today? We just got in a new shipment. And how about fresh baking powder? We’ve been out for almost a week, and I remember you asked for a tin last Friday.”

“Yes and yes,” Leah said with a smile. “Green tea is good for the stomach, and after today—” she nodded surreptitiously at the black-clad figure of Lula Dunbar “—I’ll need something soothing to drink, I believe.”

Bonnie nodded, then spoke in an undertone. “Everyone’s thinking the only way Gar Lundstrom will find help out there will be to marry someone.” Her voice was wistful.

Leah blinked. “Marry? You think he’s going to get married?” she whispered. “It’s only been five months since…” She still had trouble speaking the words.

“Mourning is a privilege reserved for those who can afford it,” Bonnie said sagely. “Around here, a man’s lucky if he can find somebody willing to take over a family if he loses his wife. Of course, a handsome man like Garlan might not be so hard put to talk some lady into it.” Bonnie’s eyes grew soft, as if she yearned in that direction, and Leah nodded.

“You like him, don’t you, Bonnie?”

“Yes, for all the good it does me. He looks right through me. Always has, always will, I suspect. I’m not pretty enough for a man to take a second look at.”

Leah privately concluded the same, but her tender heart prompted her to disagree. “One of these days, the right man will come by and snap you up like a bolt of lightning, Bonnie. You just watch.”

Without Karen to carry, Leah added ten pounds of flour to her order, then pondered over a piece of yard goods for a dress. Her bundle was large, and she carried it in both hands as she made her way to the small house where Gar Lundstrom waited for her.

He sat on the porch, leaning against the upright post, his long legs propped on the second step. Karen was across his thighs, and her feet pushed at his waist as he lifted her to stand on his lap. She swayed, holding his index fingers, cooing and gurgling her delight at the man who held her.

“She enjoys seeing you,” Leah said, watching from the bottom step.

Gar looked at her, his gaze stern as always. “She is growing before my eyes. I miss much, only spending time with her on Sunday afternoons.”

Leah smiled brightly. “Well, as soon as you find a housekeeper, you can take her back, Mr. Lundstrom. I only agreed to keep her for six months.” Any longer than that would be a mistake, Leah had already decided. As it was, giving up the baby would be heart wrenching.

“I wonder if I have been looking in the wrong places, Mrs. Gunderson.” His eyes met hers, and Leah was stunned by the calculation she sensed in their depths. He allowed his gaze to sweep over her length, pausing almost imperceptibly on her narrow waist and the flare of her bosom above it.

“I think I need more than a housekeeper, Mrs. Gunderson,” he said quietly, his eyes once more touching her face with pale concentration. “I’m in town today to speak with you about a matter of interest to both of us.”

Leah’s heart bumped, halted and quivered in her chest. Surely not, she thought. The man didn’t even like her, even though his hatred had waned over the past months. Surely he couldn’t be thinking of making her an offer?

“Shall we go inside?” she asked, drawing in a breath lest her voice break and reveal her uncertainty. She stepped past his seated figure and opened her door, holding it ajar as he stood and carried the baby into the parlor.

He watched while Leah carried her bundle into the kitchen, and her mind raced. Perhaps it would be better to speak with the man in the parlor, where the atmosphere was not so homey, where she might sit on the horsehair sofa and listen to his offer. For, sure as the world was turning, an offer was what she was about to hear. She’d be willing to bet her bank account on it.

“Mrs. Gunderson. Leah.” He’d followed her into the kitchen, speaking her given name, as if what he was about to say was too personal to merit formality.

“Yes?” Leah turned to face him, the table between them, her fingers working at the string that tied her purchases.

His hand waved at her efforts. “Leave that alone for a moment and sit down. Please.” He drew a chair from the table, waited until she had obeyed his order and then sat down, facing her.

Leah bit at her lip, nervous as she anticipated the words he was about to speak. If he should offer to hire her as housekeeper, she would refuse, for the gossip would not allow her a reputation worth having.

Her eyes lifted to meet his gaze and she tilted her chin, as if she dared him to suggest such a thing. Again his eyes made a survey, this time touching the honey-colored braids she wore as a coronet atop her head, then focusing on the set of her jaw and the tight pursing of her lips, before he returned to meet her gaze.

“I would like to ask you to marry me, Leah Gunderson.”

His voice was solemn, his words slow and ponderous, as if he had thought long and hard before he made his offer. “I need someone to live at my place and care for my children. I want my daughter where she belongs, and my house shows neglect.”

Well, that was about the most honest proposal a woman had ever received, Leah decided. He hadn’t minced any words, just spelled it out and let it lay.

“I’m being offered a dirty house and two needy children. Am I right?” she asked quietly.

He shrugged, his wide shoulders moving almost imperceptibly as he lifted an eyebrow in response. “Perhaps I’m also making a way for you to clear your conscience, Mrs. Gunderson.”

“I bear no guilt, sir,” she said firmly, her mouth quivering as the pain of his words vibrated within her. She’d spent too many hours going over the events of that night to accept blame for the death of Hulda Lundstrom. “I did the best I could for your wife.”

“No matter,” he said, dismissing her words. “If you will come to my farm and be Leah Lundstrom, I will give you a place to live for the rest of your life. I will treat you well and never lay a hand on you in anger.”

“Well, that’s some offer,” she said smartly. “It’s not really what I had my heart set on, though.” Her voice mocked him, and she felt a pang of remorse as he dropped his gaze.

“It’s all I can propose,” he said after a moment. His hand lifted and swept the circumference of the room. “It will be better than this.”

“Once it gets cleaned up, perhaps.”

“It shouldn’t take you any time at all, as strong and healthy as you are, ma’am. You will even find a supply of potatoes in my dugout, ready for your use.” His mouth twitched as he reminded her of her need.

The sun from the window over her sink glinted on golden strands of hair as Garlan rose to his feet. It formed a nimbus around him, causing his hair to shine, as if the sun had taken up residence within each lock. Like a warrior from the olden days, he stood before her, long legs spread, wide shoulders and long arms husky with muscled strength.

Only the dainty form of his daughter lent a note of disparity to the picture. Her round face peered from his shoulder as she twisted to view Leah, unwilling to allow her to disappear from sight. And perhaps it was that smiling visage that turned the tables in Garlan Lundstrom’s favor.

“I thought you might ask me to be your housekeeper, Mr. Lundstrom,” Leah ventured. “I didn’t have in mind marriage at this late date. I will be thirty years old in a month.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think that should be a barrier, Leah. Thirty is not so old these days. I am thirty-four myself.”

“It’s different for a man,” she argued. “I’m too old to begin having children.”

His eyes grew chilled, the pale blue orbs turning to ice. “I did not ask for that. I have two children. I have had a woman in my bed. I did not find it rewarding to bring her to the childbed and watch her die. I’ll not take that risk again.”

So it was to be that way, Leah thought She would not know the touch of a man’s hands on her body in the act of loving. Her virgin flesh would know no ease from its aching need.

“You have been married, Leah. Can you honestly say you desire that attachment again?” he asked quietly. “It has been my experience that women do not seek out a bedding, but only endure such a thing in order to have children.”

She shook her head, not even aware of what she agreed or disagreed with. She’d never been wed, had only taken her mother’s maiden name and made it her own, so that she would not be despised as a maiden lady doing the work of a midwife. And now this man was telling her that she would not have the knowledge of his body atop her own, that he would not use her to create more children of his loins.

“Let me think about it, Mr. Lundstrom,” she said, proud of the steady quality of her words.

He turned to place Karen in her basket, his hands reluctant as he slipped them from her body. Then he faced Leah and offered her his hand, waiting till she met it with her own.

His palm was broad, warm and strong. His fingers enclosed hers in a firm grip. Not a handshake as men exchanged, but rather a clasping of hands, as if they sealed a bargain between them. Leah felt her fingers soak up the warmth of his, felt the pulsing of his heartbeat as her middle finger touched his wrist. The heat of his flesh encompassed her palm, spreading to her forearm and up to her shoulder. It met the frantic beat of her heart, and she knew a moment’s panic as that organ seemed to swell within her breast.

“I will call on you tomorrow, Leah,” he said, his words almost harsh in their intensity. She met his gaze as her hand slipped from his grasp, and she noted a flicker of emotion there. As surely as her name was Leah Gunderson, she knew that Garlan Lundstrom held something from her. He was not so forbidding suddenly, not so reserved.

“Bring the potatoes then,” she said pertly, and was not surprised when the flicker became a flame and his eyes warmed for a moment.

“Yes, I’ll do that.” His mouth was firm, his lips thinning as though he forbade them to speak further. He then turned from her and walked to the front door.

“I will come for my answer tomorrow afternoon.” With a nod of his head, which caused a lock of golden hair to brush against his forehead, he was gone.

Leah’s fingers itched to brush that errant lock back into place and she stifled the urge, clenching her hands at her waist as he turned back to look at her from the bottom of the porch steps.

“He doesn’t want a wife,” she muttered to herself. “He wants a housekeeper and someone to watch his children.” Her skirts swished around her ankles as she spun in place and marched back into the kitchen.

From the laundry basket, a squeal of delight greeted her, and Karen’s pudgy fingers waved a distracted welcome as she clutched a string of thread spools in one hand. As always, Leah’s heart melted at the sight, and she moved across the floor and knelt by the wicker basket.

“You are so tempting, sweet one,” she said, twining her fingers in the silky locks of hair that covered the baby’s head. “Between you and your brother, you are enough to steal my heart.”

The baby gurgled a response, and Leah bent to kiss the crown of her head. She rose, stepping to the sink to wash her hands before she got out her teapot for the promised visit from Eva Landers. The sun was almost blinding, brilliant in a vibrantly blue sky, and she blinked, shaking her head against the vision that rose in her mind.

He was there, as vivid as if he stood before her. Gar Lundstrom, tall and golden haired, a man of the earth, solid and dependable. A man who still despised her.

A man who could steal not only her heart, but her soul as well.