They mostly just eat and sleep. That's boring. When will it be fun? In a few years. Tommy considered this.
Okay. But it better be a good baby, not a crying one. All babies cry, son, Elias said, his hand resting protectively on Nora's still flat stomach. It's how they talk. Then I'll teach it to talk right.
With words. As spring progressed into summer, Nora's pregnancy became visible. Her body changed, swelling with new life and Elias was almost comically protective. He wouldn't let her lift anything heavy, insisted she rest more than she wanted and watched her constantly for any sign of distress. I'm pregnant, not made of glass, Nora finally said after he'd forbidden her from hanging laundry.
Women work right up until they give birth. Not my wife they don't. Elias Ward, if you wrap me in cotton wool, I'll go mad. I need to feel useful. They compromised.
Nora could do lighter tasks but nothing that required lifting or strenuous effort. It chafed but she understood his fear and honestly, as her belly grew larger and her energy waned, she appreciated not having to do everything she'd done before. Dorothy visited twice during the pregnancy, fussing over Nora and making lists of everything the baby would need. She'd arranged for a proper doctor from Guthrie to attend the birth, paying his fee without being asked. My grandchild will have the best care available, she said firmly.
I've already lost too much. I won't risk losing more. The baby arrived on October evening just as the prairie was settling into autumn's golden light. Nora's labor started mid-afternoon with a low back ache that gradually intensified into contractions. By evening, they were regular and strong and Miss Maybelle, who'd attended dozens of births, sent Hank racing to fetch the doctor.
Elias was a wreck. He paced outside the bedroom, his face gray with barely controlled panic while inside Nora labored with Miss Maybelle's steady encouragement. You're doing fine, honey. Just breathe through it. That's right.
The doctor will be here soon. But the baby had other ideas. The doctor arrived just in time to catch a squalling red-faced infant who entered the world angry and loud. A good sign, Miss Maybelle said. Strong lungs meant strong life.
It's a girl, the doctor announced, cleaning the baby and wrapping her in soft cloth. Small but healthy. Congratulations, Mrs. Ward. Nora, exhausted and euphoric, held her daughter for the first time and wept.
She was perfect, tiny and wrinkled and absolutely perfect. Dark hair like Elias, nose like Nora and her father's dark eyes already alert and curious about the strange new world. Elias, Miss Maybelle called to the door. You can come in now. He entered slowly, his face a mask of fear and hope.
When he saw Nora sitting up holding the baby, alive and well and smiling, something in him broke open. He crossed the room in three strides and knelt beside the bed. Nora, is she are you We're both fine. Perfect. Come meet your daughter.