Love's New Beginning (a Love Comes Softly fanfiction)

Childbirth

As Marty's time got closer, Clark had to accept that the doctor wouldn't be here for the birth. He couldn't help the fear that filled him—childbirth wasn't easy, and it wouldn't be fair to Missie to lose another mama. He didn't think about how he would feel if Marty's capable, cheerful presence was suddenly no longer in the house. He didn't want to think about it.

Without the doctor, the next best thing would be to have Ma Graham come and stay. He said so to Marty at breakfast one day. Marty had been looking tired and pale the last couple of days, and she was moving more slowly. Clark was no expert, but it looked to him as though there might be a baby on the way very soon.

"Seems like ya might feel more easy like iffen Ma could come a few days early an' be stayin' with ya fer a spell."

Marty brightened immediately. "Do ya really think thet she could?"

"Don't know why not. Sally Anne an' Laura be right able to care fer the rest. Good practice fer Sally Anne. Hear she be a needin' to know how afore long. I'll ride over an' have a chat with Ma." He looked Marty over with some concern. "I hope we won't be a keepin' her fer too long."

He rode over to the Grahams' immediately after breakfast. Ma looked at him sharply as she stood in the doorway. "Everythin' be all right?"

"Yeah, so far. It's jest thet Marty's time be comin' soon, an' the doc won't be here, an'—" He couldn't tell Ma about the nameless fear that gripped him that something terrible would go wrong. Somehow the words just wouldn't come. But she understood anyway.

"I'll get my things. You come in an' have a cup of coffee. Try to relax. Marty's young an' strong, I'm sure thet baby will be here safe an' sound afore ya know it."

And so it was that when Clark awoke two days later he heard Ma in the kitchen boiling water. It was time, then. The baby was coming. Fear chilled him as he hastily pulled on his clothes and went to the kitchen.

Ma shook her head at him. "Now ya stop yer frettin'. I know thet she be a little thing, but she be carryin' the baby well. I checked a minute ago. He dropped down right good an' he seems to be turned right. It only be a matter of time 'til ya be a holdin' 'im in thet rocking chair."

She sounded convincing to Clark until he heard a cry of pain from Marty. He sank into a chair by the table even as Ma hurried out of the room. More than anything, he wished he could go to Marty right now, hold her hand and give her some of his strength—but he didn't know if she would want him there, and Ma wouldn't take kindly to having him underfoot. "Oh, God. It's up to you an' Ma now. I didn't get the doc, God. Please help Ma now. She's delivered lotsa babies. Help her now with this 'un." He didn't say 'amen', because he still felt the prayer in his heart, the fervent wish for divine help for all of them to get through this day.

Once Missie was awake, Ma had Clark bundle her up and take her out to the barn with him so she wouldn't hear her mama's cries—and, he suspected, so he wouldn't, either.

It was most of the way through the afternoon, and Clark was running out of ways to distract Missie, and himself, when Ma came to the barn door, flushed and smiling. "He's here, an' he's a dandy."

Clark lifted Missie and hurried with her to the house. "She's okay?" he asked Ma, holding his breath waiting for her answer.

"Fit as a fiddle. She done a great job an' she's got a fine boy. Iffen ya slow down a mite an' take yerself in hand, I may even let ya git a small peek at 'im."

Putting Missie down, Clark focused on helping her out of her cold things, and on breathing slow and easy. "Here, Missie, let's warm abit afore we go to see yer mama."

They stood in front of the stove until they were both toasty warm and then Clark lifted Missie and followed Ma to the bedroom.

Marty looked so small lying there in that big bed, wearied from her long day. But she smiled up at him with that particular look that he remembered on Ellen from when Missie was born. Only then, reassured, did Clark look at the red face of the tiny person who lay bundled up next to her. "He's a real dandy," he said, hoping she couldn't hear how hoarse his voice was, how relieved. "What ya be a callin' 'im?"

"He be Claridge Luke."

"Thet's a fine name. What the Luke be for?"

"My pa."

She never talked much about her folks. Likely her pa would never see his namesake—and her husband. Clark ached for her that the baby's father was no longer here to hold his son. "He'd be right proud could he see him," he told her. "His pa'd be right proud, too, to have sech a fine son."

Marty's eyes shone with tears, and she nodded without speaking. Clark suspected she'd be doing some weeping the next few days for the father her son would never know. He would do his best to make sure young Claridge knew that he had two fathers who loved him, just as Marty would make sure Missie knew about Ellen.

"Claridge Luke Davis. Right good soundin' name. Bother ya any iffen I shorten it to Clare sometimes?"

"Not a-tall."

Only then did Clark realize he was still holding Missie. In his concern for Marty, he had forgotten the little girl entirely. Now Missie pointed. "Ba-by?"

"Yah, Missie, baby. That's the baby thet yer mama done got ya. Little Clare, he be."

"Rock—baby?"

Clark chuckled. "Not fer a while yet. First the baby an' yer mama have to have a nice long rest. We'd best be goin' now an' let them be."

Marty smiled, her eyes drooping. He believed she was asleep before he closed the door.

Carrying Missie to the rocking chair, he suggested they get in some practice, which suited her just fine. Holding his girl against his chest, he allowed himself to relax for the first time today. "Thank ya, Father. Thank ya fer helpin' Ma and fer Marty's safe birthin' an' thet fine new boy. Amen."