In Search Of Love: The Story of A Mail Order Bride (Mail Order Bride Series) (11 page)

Katerina opened the letter she had picked up  the Post Office located in the mercantile in Columbus.  She recognized the cramped handwriting of her father.  It was the first letter she had since he had acknowledged her safe arrival in Oregon. 

“Written in a combination of German and English, it began, “My beloved dotter,  I trust everything finds you well and content in your new home.  It is with a heavy heart, I take pen in hand to tell you of the passing of your mother.  She died peacefully in her sleep on May 25, and was interred in the Lutheran Cemetery, with which you are familiar.  The house feels so empty without her presence.  I would like to have had you to help through this, but of course it was impossible.”

The letter rambled, and was clearly from a person lost and reaching out in his loneliness.  It told of the decline in business following the close of the Army Post and prison.  He closed, professing his love for her. 

She handed the letter to Patrick, who read it silently.  “You have no other family there do you?”

She shook her head silently.  “All of our relatives were left behind in Germany when he and Mama came to America.”

“If there is nothing to keep him in Columbus except for his shop, why doesn’t he move here?  A cobbler could have a thriving business here.  He could stay with us until he gets established,” he said. 

“Patrick, I won’t ask you to do that.  It wouldn’t work.  He has the shop and all of his things,” she said.

“Honey, there isn’t a shoemaker in Oregon City.  It’s not as big as Columbus, but it would be a good living.  Also, remember the package he gave you, and you were going to save it to be a surprise and pay for a trip out here?  Wouldn’t this be a great time for that?  He could be here when his grandson is born.”

“Now, you sound like your father.  We don’t know it will be a boy,” she said, logically.
 

“We don’t know it won’t.
And, even if we have a girl, look at the way his daughter turned out.  I’d settle for another Katerina.  Let’s do it!” he said.

“I’ll write and ask him, and tell him how wonderful it would be to have him close when his grandchild arrives.  Maybe he could sell his business.  If not, pack his equipment and ship it here.”

“Thank you, Patrick.  Thank you.  I don’t know what I did to deserve such a thoughtful husband,” she said.

“Other than being the most beautiful girl in the whole state of Oregon?” he said.  “You deserve all I can give you and you haven’t asked for a single thing since we got here.  Katerina Murphy?  You are one special girl.”

After several exchanges of letters, Karl Hauser agreed to come for a visit.  He had decided to close his shop. In the last letter Katerina sent, she said, “Papa, I will make all of the arrangements.  Pack all of your equipment and take it to the railroad and give them our address.  They will take care of the rest.”  She included his prepaid ticket, and explained how Pullman cars work and what is covered.  “The porter cleans up and makes the bed.  You don’t do anything except enjoy the scenery.  In Chicago, you will need to switch trains.  Ask the conductor to help you get to the right train, and all you have to do is carry the small bag you have in the Pullman car with you.  The train people will move your baggage and equipment to the right train.  Trust me, it works.

“You are not going to believe this, but they fix your food right on the train.  It is all taken care of.  Ask the porter to show you where the dining car is.  Papa, it is a wonderful trip and after you have worked so hard all of your life, you deserve every bit of it.  Patrick and I will meet you at the station. 

“Just think, when you get here, you will have traveled the entire width of America counting your trip to Columbus when you and Mama immigrated.  I can hardly stand it waiting until the Friday when we meet you at the train.  You’re going to love it here as much as I do, Papa.  Your loving daughter, Katerina.”

The train station, Oregon City…

The lonely, lost looking man stepped from the train in Oregon City.  It was a bright, clear day and you could see forever.  He looked around, but didn’t know what to do.  Then came the most beautiful sound in the world.

It was the wonderfully melodious voice of his daughter.  “Papa, here we are.  Over here.”  She ran to him so hard, she nearly knocked him down.  She hugged him so tightly, he feared he would be unable to breathe.

“Liebchen.  My Liebchen.  I thought I would never see you again,” he said.  Step back and let me look at you. 

“Ach, you are as beautiful as ever.  More beautiful if that is possible.”

“Papa, you remember Patrick, don’t you?”

“The man who took you from me.  Yes, I remember Patrick.  How are you, my son?”

“I am well.  Your daughter takes good care of me.”

“I would guess you take good care of each other.  She is more beautiful than ever, don’t you think, Patrick?”

“I do.  You tell him honey,” Patrick said.

“Tell me what?” Karl said.

“Papa, Patrick and I are going to have a baby.  Isn’t it wonderful.  And now you’re going to be here.  It makes everything perfect.”

“A baby?”  He looked at Patrick.  “It is true, Patrick?”  My Katerina is going to have a baby?”

“Yes, she is.  If you look at her from the side, she’s beginning to show a little,” Patrick said.

“So much, all at once.  It is too much for an old man.”

“Nonsense, Papa.  You’re not an old man.  Oregon is going to rebuild your spirit.  You will feel better than you have in years.  Now, go with Patrick and he will get your things.  I will bring the wagon over.”

“My Liebchen drives a horse?  It is truly too much,” Karl said.

The glow in her cheeks confirmed what the doctor told her.  “You are the image of good health,” Dr. Carmichael told Katerina at her three month checkup.  “What ever it is you’re doing, keep it up and you will have no problems.”

“Patrick will be glad to hear that.  He’s a worry wart,” she said. 

“It’s always good to be cautious,” the doctor said.  Unless you have any problems, I won’t need to see you for two months.  Once you are past six months, I would like to see you every month.”

* * *

Katerina showed increasing signs of her condition.   Her morning sickness had long since ended and now she was contending with a growing belly.  As she entered her seventh month, she said, “I feel like a big old cow walking around, bumping into things.”

“That’s where we’re different.  I see you getting more beautiful every day,” he said.  The doctor says you’re in great health, and with just six weeks to go, it will pass before you know it.

“I don’t like that we can’t make love like we always did.  I miss that,” she said.

“I miss it too,” he said, “But I’ll just have to show you how much I care in other ways,”

Patrick had always been demonstrative, touching her as he passed, kissing her on the neck, and by running his hands through her hair.

School was out and Katerina busied herself around the house.  She had bought fabric and sewed baby blankets, and gowns.

Mama Murphy was a frequent visitor, doing anything about the house to make things easier for Katerina.  She was as anxious for the baby to arrive as her daughter-in-law.  Katerina felt closer to her than she had ever felt toward her stern mother.  She had guilt feelings about it, but never addressed them with anyone other than herself.

Patrick felt the bed move and was instantly awake.  “Are you all right, honey?”

She was sitting on the side of the bed, her back arched.  “I’m okay.  I just can’t get comfortable.  You go on back to sleep.  I didn’t mean to disturb you.”  She got up and started to use the chamber pot.  She felt something strange and looked.  There was a dark, slimy looking mass.  She screamed, and Patrick came hurrying over. 

“What is it?” he asked.

“I don’t know.  It didn’t hurt or anything.”  More fluid came out.  “Maybe you should get the doctor.  I’m scared, honey.”

Patrick woke Karl.  “I’m going to get the doctor.  Will you go watch Katerina?”

“Yes, I do that,” Karl said and began to get dressed.

“Honey, I’m going to get Doctor Carmichael.  Your Papa is going to look after you.  I’ll stop and tell Mama They’ll be here before I get back.  You’re going to be all right.  I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  With that, he tore out of the house, buttoning his shirt as he ran.

“Liebchen, are you in pain?  I will stay here with you.  Patrick will be as quick as he can.”

Doctor Carmichael had told Katerina, “It will be better if you can walk around early in labor.  She tried this, but it made no noticeable difference.  Feeling contractions, she went back to the bedroom, just as Patrick’s mother and Mary Margaret came through the door.

Having had five babies, Mama Murphy immediately took charge, allowing a relieved Karl to give up the immediate responsibility.  Timing the pains, showed them to be twenty minutes apart.  “It’s going to be some time yet, dear,” she assured Katerina.  “The doctor will be here well before things really begin to get active.  Mary Margaret, get me a wet washcloth, please.”

When she had it in hand, she began wiping Katerina’s brow, talking softly, and holding her hands when a pain seized her.

A commotion outside hinted at Patrick’s return.  He burst into the room.  “How are you doing, Honey?” he asked.

“I’m being a big baby,” she gasped out.  “Where’s the doctor?”

“He’s about five, maybe ten minutes behind me.  He’ll be here, don’t worry.”

“I wish he’d hurry… Ohhhhhhhhh,” as another pain hit.  That was a big one,” she panted.

“I hear him now,” Patrick said.  “I’ll go get him.”  He left, to return shortly with the doctor in tow.

Dr. Carmichael asked a few questions, and asked them to heat some water.  Mary Margaret said, “There is some on the stove already.”

“Let me get washed up and we’ll see where we are.  Patrick, you’ll want to wait in the other room, please.”

Reluctantly, Patrick let go of the hand he was holding and returned to the other room to keep his father-in-law company.  For the next three hours, they alternated between pacing, talking and worrying.

There was an agonizing cry from the bedroom.  Then the sound of a baby crying penetrated the silence.  Patrick’s mother came out of the room, a tired look on her face.  Over the tired look was a big smile.  “Patrick, you have a son, just as your father said.  Congratulations, darling.”

“Mama, is Katerina all right?” he asked.

“She is worn out, but she is okay.   She did well, and worked hard at it the entire time.  I was so proud of her.  She was a trooper.

“Mr. Hauser, you should be very proud of your Katerina.  She is a terrific girl.  It is a nice, healthy boy with a robust set of lungs.  It looks as if he will have blond hair, but with the Irish mix, it may well turn out to be red.

“I have to go back in and clean her and the baby up and then you can both go in for a few minutes.  Dr. Carmichael is finishing the delivery.”

Michael and James came in, and Michael asked, “Is it over?”  Receiving a nod as the answer, he said, “I was right wasn’t I?  It’s a boy.”

Patrick and Karl came into the bedroom.  Katerina’s freshly washed face was glowing.  Her hair had been combed.  She was radiant.  When he took her hand, Katerina said, “We have a son, Patrick.  We have a son.  Papa, did you see your grandson yet?”

Margaret brought the baby to Patrick and asked, “Would you like to say hello to your son?”  She handed him the baby.  He handled it as if he were afraid he might drop it.  Tears streamed down his cheeks.  He looked at the baby in awe. 

To his wife, he said, “Look what we made, Honey.  We did that.”  She rewarded him with a tired smile.  He turned to her father and said, “Karl, take your grandson.  I want to kiss my wife.”

The tearful grandfather held his grandson, and looked from his face to that of his daughter.  “Liebchen, you have made me more proud of you if that is possible.”

* * *

Michael’s mother stayed five days to help with the initial care of the baby and with Katerina.  On the third day, Katerina took tentative steps into the living room, with Patrick holding her elbow.  She sat on the pillow he had thoughtfully provided.  “Mama, we’ve sort of decided on a name.  Karl Patrick Murphy.  What do you think?  Papa, what do you think?””

“I think it is a wonderful name,” Margaret said.

“You do an old man a great honor,” her father said.

“A deserved honor, Papa.  A much deserved honor.”