The Savage

Eleven

A sharp sound woke me in the dead of night, and above the howling wind of the blizzard outside I strained to hear it again. The days of spring had melted into summer, and the warm weather had flown by on fleet wings. With Nettie's friendship, school had become bearable, and the grief of losing my father had faded to a dull ache in my heart. Fall had come quickly, laying a cold, heavy hand on the prairie. This flurry of wind and snow was unseasonably early. I heard the sound again, and bolted upright.

"Mamma?"

Her answer was a grunt of pain, a harsh exhalation of tightly held breath. I leapt from the loft, landing hard on the wooden floor below. Mamma was leaning against her rocker, half bent. I heard Frank come into the room behind me, woken by the loud boom of my landing.

"Jenny?" he took in the situation at once. "Butterfly, you get her set down in bed, then get some hot water going. Don't you leave her side 'til I come back! Hear?"

I wasted no time arguing. While Frank threw on clothes and boots, bundling up in his thick coat, I gently lead Mamma back to the bed, supporting her when she had to stop, groaning in pain. Neither of us noticed when Frank left, me at Mamma's side, brushing strands of hair from her eyes. She managed a brief smile, then her focus turned inward again, the force of her contractions driving everything else from her mind. Remembering Frank's instructions, I eased from her side and hurried to the kitchen, stirring the fire to life.

The snow outside was coming down thick and heavy, so I carried our largest pot to the door and set it out, waiting in the frigid temperature until it was full. Setting it over the fire was a little difficult, since the pot had doubled in weight, but I managed it, and went back to Mamma's side. Her brow was coated with sweat, her eyes closed, cheeks flushed, she didn't notice me at all.

"Ee'nah?" Touching her arm got no response, so I hurried to get a soft cloth, and dipping it in our water bucket I sat at her side. Every now and then I dabbed at her brow, cooling her, soothing her. Time passed by, and Mamma's contractions got worse. I had never witnessed a birth and grew anxious. She opened her eyes suddenly.

"Jaynie?"

"I am here."

"This is it, honey-" she gasped, gripping the hand I held out hard. "This baby is very anxious to come out and meet you."

"Are you alright?" leaning close, I touched her cheek. "Does it hurt much?"

"Not as much as you did," her eyes closed, then opened again. "You were such a fighter, right from the start. I wasn't sure I would live through that, but then there you were, right in my arms. You were so feisty, such fire in your little eyes-!"

She cried out, gritting her teeth against a wave of agony, and I keened softly in sympathy, rocking my body against hers. When the contraction passed her green eyes were soft, strained.

"I loved you so much, as soon as I laid eyes on you. My little Butterfly."

"I am here, Ee'nah," kissing her cheek, I smelled deeply of her scent. "I am right here."

We said nothing more after that, but I stayed at her side and the time drew nearer and nearer. I was worried, but striving not to show it. Where was Frank? Mamma didn't seem to notice me now, though every few minutes she would squeeze my hand. A sudden hand on my shoulder startled me so badly I cried out, whirling around.

"Easy girl," Frank's gray eyes were warm, but concerned. "The doc wasn't in town, I had to hunt him down out at Gilly's place. You done good, but the doctor's here, so let's get out from underfoot."

"No. I will stay."

"I wasn't asking." His fingers tightened a little, and I felt heat rise in my heart.