Authors: Francine Rivers
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Angel threw on her shawl and started out the door. Laughing, Miriam halted her. “You don’t want to come back to a burned-down house, do you?”
Angel grabbed a sack of dried corn and dragged it well away from the fireplace. Angel hurriedly lifted the seed corn to the table and swung the other sack near the bed. They ran most of the way. “Oh,” Miriam said. “I didn’t even think to tell Michael—”
“He’ll know,” Angel said, walking fast to catch her breath before she raised her skirts and ran again.
Heaving for breath, Angel plunged into the Altman cabin, Miriam on her heels. Elizabeth sat calmly before the fire, stitching on a shirt. The children glanced up from their work. They were sitting calmly around the table doing lessons.
Only John was agitated and came out of his chair like a shot. “Thank God!” he said, taking Angel’s shawl quickly and tossing it in the direction of the wall hook. He lowered his voice. “Her pains are close together, but I can’t get her to go in and lie down. She says she has mending to do!”
“I’m almost finished, John,” Elizabeth said. She set one shirt aside and took up another. She went very still, and her face tightened in silent concentration. Angel stared at her, watching for signs of agony, waiting for a blood-curdling scream. Elizabeth closed her eyes for a long moment and then let out a soft sigh and began working again. The children scarcely noticed until their father groaned.
“Lizzie,
go to bed!”
“When I’m finished, John.”
“Now!”
he boomed so abruptly, Angel jumped. She had never heard John Altman use such a tone on anyone in his family.
Elizabeth raised her head with dignity. “Leave me be, John. Go feed the horses or chop wood. Go muck out a stable. Go shoot something for dinner.
But don’t bother me right now.” She said it all in such a calm voice, Angel almost laughed. John tossed up his hands and stormed out of the cabin, muttering about women. “Bar the door, Andrew.”
“Mama?”
“He’ll come right back in if you don’t,” Elizabeth said with an amused smile. The children laughed and went on with what they were doing.
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Miriam was tense and clearly worried.
Several more pains came, and Elizabeth stitched madly. She knotted the thread and snipped it. Another contraction came while she was folding the shirt, and Miriam was growing more pale. She looked frantically to Angel, but Angel intended to wait on Elizabeth’s pleasure. If she wanted to sit there and have the baby in the chair, that was her business.
When the contraction lengthened, Angel bent down and put her hand firmly on Elizabeth’s knee. “How can I help you?” she said with more steadiness than she felt.
Elizabeth said nothing, her hand clenched white on the arm of the chair.
Finally, she let out a gusty breath and took Angel’s hand. “Help me to the bedroom,” she said softly. “Miriam, see to the children and your father.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“And we’ll need plenty of hot water. Jacob can fetch it. And cloths. Leah, they’re in the trunk. We’ll need the ball of twine in the cabinet. Ruthie, you get that for me, will you, dear?”
“Yes, Mama.” The children scattered to do her bidding.
Angel closed the door quietly behind her. Elizabeth sat down carefully on the edge of the bed and began to unbutton her dress. She needed help in removing it and had but a thin shift on beneath.
“It’s coming now,” she said. “My water broke when I went to the backhouse this morning.” She laughed softly. “I was afraid for a moment that the child would drop right down into that hole.” She took Angel’s hand. “Don’t look so worried. Everything is fine.” She drew in her breath sharply, her hand tightening. Perspiration beaded on her brow. “That was a good one,”
she said finally.
Miriam entered the bedroom with a pitcher of water and a pan full of cloths. “Papa is bringing more water. Two buckets besides Jacob’s. We’ve got the pot over the fire.”
Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled. “I suppose your Papa thinks a nice warm bath would solve everything.” She kissed Miriam’s cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’m depending on you to take care of things. Leah was having trouble with her arithmetic, and Jacob needs to practice his letters.”
The pains came more quickly and lasted longer. Elizabeth made no 359
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sound, but Angel saw the strain she was under. She was pale and sweating profusely. Wringing out a cool cloth, Angel bathed her face.
Miriam peered in an hour later. “Michael’s here.”
Angel let out a sigh of relief, and Elizabeth smiled. “You’re doing just fine, Amanda.” Blushing, Angel laughed.
Elizabeth had little to say over the next hour, and Angel respected her silence. She stroked her tenderly and held her hand when the pains came.
When Elizabeth relaxed, she wrung out the cloth and dabbed her brow.
“Won’t be long now,” Elizabeth said following one pain that had rolled right into the next. She moaned this time, her hand clamping white on the headboard. “Oh, I didn’t think it would take this long.”
“Tell me what to do!” Angel said, but Elizabeth had no breath to do so.
She gasped, but drew in her breath sharply again, her legs coming up. She moaned louder, her face contorting and turning bright red.
Angel didn’t stop to think about modesty. She pulled the quilt back.
“Oh, Elizabeth! It’s coming, darling! I can see the head.” Angel supported the child as Elizabeth gave one last push. Angel went down on her knees, the newborn baby in her arms, squalling.
“A boy. Elizabeth, a boy! And he’s perfect. Ten fingers, ten toes.…” She got up, trembling with exhilaration and wonder.
Elizabeth wept in joy as Angel placed her son on her chest. A few moments later, with the last contractions, she relaxed completely, exhausted.
“Tie the cord with the twine before you cut it,” Elizabeth said wearily and smiled. “He has good lungs.”
“Yes, he certainly does.” Angel washed the baby carefully before wrapping him in a soft blanket and giving him to his mother. He suckled immediately, and Elizabeth smiled contentedly. Pouring warm water into a pan, Angel washed Elizabeth carefully, making every effort not to hurt her, but hurt she did, though Elizabeth didn’t complain. Bending down, she kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered to the already sleeping woman.
Angel went out quietly. Everyone was standing in the other room, waiting. “You have a beautiful new son, John. Congratulations.”
“Praise the Lord.” He wilted into his chair. “What’d you say his name was?”
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Angel laughed, all the pent-up tension gone. “Well, I don’t know, John. I think
you’re
supposed to decide that.”
Everyone laughed, John included, blushing beet red. Shaking his head, he went into the bedroom. Miriam and the children filed in quietly behind him.
Michael smiled at her in a way that made her heart race. “Your eyes are shining,” he said.
She was so full of emotion she couldn’t speak. His expression was so endearing, full of so much promise. She loved him so much she felt consumed with it. When he came to her, she lifted her face so he could brush his mouth lightly against hers. “Oh, Michael,” she said, putting her arms around him.
“Someday,” he said, then went cold at his cruel blunder. He held her more tightly.
Angel knew what he was thinking. They would never have a child. He drew back slightly, but she couldn’t look up at him, not even when he cupped her face. “Amanda, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t apologize, Michael.”
Why hadn’t he thought first before saying anything? “I’ll tell them we’re going home.” He left her long enough to congratulate the Altmans. The baby was beautiful.
Elizabeth took his hand. “Amanda was wonderful. Tell her I’d be honored to tend her when her time comes.”
“I’ll tell her,” he said dully, knowing he couldn’t.
They walked home in silence. He watched her bank the fire.
“Elizabeth said you were wonderful.”
“She was magnificent,” Angel said. “She could have managed with no one to help her.” She glanced up at him with a sad smile. “It’s what being a woman is all about, isn’t it? Miriam called having children a divine privilege.” She looked away. “John’s seed was planted in fertile ground.”
“Amanda,” he said, putting his hand beneath her arm to stop her.
“Don’t say anything, Michael, please.…”
She didn’t fight him when he drew her into his arms. He held her firmly, his hand spread over the back of her head. He wanted to take away the hurt 361
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and didn’t know how. “Christmas is only a few days away.”
“I didn’t remember until tonight at the Altmans’.” Elizabeth and Miriam had already decorated their cabin with pine bows and red ribbons. Leah and Ruthie had made a nativity scene with corn-husk dolls. Angel hadn’t thought to do anything. Duke had always said Christmas was just like any other day and you slept eight hours of it.
Mama had made something of Christmas during those early years. Even when they lived on the docks and had little food and no money, Mama treated Christmas as a holy day. No men were allowed in the shack on Christmas. Mama used to tell her what Christmas was like when she was a little girl. Angel didn’t like her to talk about it because it always made Mama cry.
“Christmas,” Angel said and drew back from Michael.
He saw her anguish and felt he was the cause of it. “Amanda…”
She looked up at him, unable to make out his face in the darkness.
“What do I give you for Christmas, Michael? What do I give you when the only thing you really want is a child?” Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she struggled against the emotion rising in her. “I wish—I wish.…”
“Don’t,” he said brokenly.
She clenched her fist. “I wish Duke hadn’t ruined me! I wish no one else had ever
touched
me! I wish I was like Miriam!”
“I love
you.”
When she turned away, he yanked her back, pulling her into his arms. “I love
you.”
He kissed her and felt the way she melted into him, clinging to him so desperately.
“Michael, I wish I was whole. I wish I was whole for you.”
God, why? John and Elizabeth have six children. Will I never beget even one on
my wife? Why did you allow it to happen this way?
“It doesn’t matter,” he said over and over. “It doesn’t matter.”
But both of them knew it did.
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Twenty-eight
Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit,
but with humility of mind let each of you regard
one another as more important than himself.
P H I L I P P I A N S
2 : 3
Paul came to the Altmans’ Christmas gathering. Angel’s stomach sank at the sight of him, wondering what barbs he would aim at her this time. She stayed away from him, determined that nothing would spoil this Christmas.
She had never had a real Christmas, and this family wanted to include her. If Paul called her a harlot to her face, she would take it and say nothing.
Besides, she knew he wouldn’t do it loudly enough for the others to hear.
To her surprise, he left her alone. He seemed just as determined to stay away from her. He brought presents for the children, small brown sacks of candy from the new general store. They were delighted, all except Miriam, who looked furious when he handed her one. “Thank you,
Uncle
Paul,” she said tartly and kissed his cheek. A muscle jerked in his jaw as she turned away.
Angel waited until after the huge dinner she and Miriam had prepared before dispensing the gifts from her and Michael. She had worked for two days on the rag dolls for Leah and Ruthie, and she held her breath as they unwrapped them. Their squeals made her laugh. The boys were equally exuberant about the slingshots Michael had made for them. A target was immediately set up outside.
Miriam opened her package carefully and held up the dried-flower garland Angel had made. She fingered the satin ribbons streaming from the 363
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back. “It’s beautiful, Amanda,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.
Angel smiled. “I kept thinking of you running down the hill through all those wildflowers. It seemed appropriate.”
Miriam took her hair down quickly and shook it out so that it flowed thick and curling about her face and shoulders and down her back. She placed the garland on her head. “How does it look?”
“Wild and beautiful,” Michael said.
Paul got up and went outside.
Miriam’s smile dimmed slightly. “He’s such a dolt,” she said under her breath.
“Miriam!” Elizabeth said in surprise, the baby against her shoulder.
“What a thing to say.”
Miriam didn’t look the least bit repentant as she glared out the door at Paul. She took the garland off and laid it in her lap. “I love it, and I’m going to wear it instead of a veil on my wedding day.”
When darkness fell, the family gathered around the fire and sang carols.