The Midwife's Secret

She had the nerve to try to turn the tables on him? “Because he’s a Mountie.” He cursed himself for letting it slip out, but he couldn’t bridle his anger.

“You had Finnigan and me investigated.” Her face was full of strength. How quickly she’d pieced it together. “Do you think having me investigated is any more honest than me claiming I’m widowed?”

Her sudden question jarred him. His mind swirled with doubts.

“Did your…Mountie friend discover anything else?”

“Like what? The reason you divorced?” Tom shook his head. “No. That’s your private business, and I don’t really care.”

She shuddered at his barb.

He continued recklessly. “One of the Calgary Mounties visited the Cattlemen’s Association, and your name came up. Your husband had been there the day before for a meeting, boasting about his new wife and children.”

Her eyes flashed. “His n-new children?”

“Twin boys. Born last week.”

Amanda stumbled back and didn’t speak for a long time. The tail of her flannel shirt caught the gentle breeze. “Are they healthy babies?”

Of all the things for her to say, what a strange choice. But then again, maybe it was natural because she was a midwife. “As far as I know. Your former husband was giving out cigars.”

This time when her shoulders sagged, he knew his words had stung. He stepped back for a moment, trying to understand. Beneath his hat, a bead of perspiration trickled down his temple.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he obviously had.

Apparently he didn’t know how to talk to a divorced woman. Did she still care about her husband? Her husband had divorced her, so maybe she still had feelings for him. But how silly of Tom to assume anything. The issues were likely complicated, each divorce different in how the folks dealt with each other.

He wavered, not knowing if he should apologize for being blunt. The woman was divorced, but if she truly meant nothing to Tom, then why had he gotten so fired up? His confusion kept him rooted, and his stubborn pride from apologizing.

“I’m glad, then,” she said quietly. “William always wanted boys to take over the ranch and carry on his family name. And beautiful children coming into the world is always a blessed event.”

He could see the truthfulness in her eyes this time. They were not conspiring blue eyes. They held that tenderness and depth of sorrow he couldn’t fathom. No matter what the circumstances of her divorce, she was generous to put the innocent babies before her own wounds.

When she slipped into the woods, saying she had to haul water, he watched her proud, retreating form. But as soon as she thought she was out of his view, she slumped against the nearest tree, as if crumpling beneath a heavy blow. For some unknown reason, his heart trembled along with hers.

Had he done that to her?

“I’ve got some mighty interestin’ news,” Ellie said a week later when she came to retrieve Donald after his day of work. She’d brought her older boy, Pierce, to carry the crate of heavy jam preserves that she was using as payment for her care. “I heard it in the mercantile today.”

Standing in the warm sunset trimming bushes, Amanda motioned to red-haired, sixteen-year-old Pierce to take the jams into the shack to Grandma, then focused on Ellie. She smoothed her fallen strands of strawberry hair into her top-knot bun, the movement causing her pregnant belly to protrude beneath her apron. The tender image brought a smile to Amanda’s lips.

She and Ellie were spending lots of time together. It was wonderful to have a friend to confide in, although Amanda hadn’t yet been able to share her deepest personal problems.

Ellie watched Pierce walk to the shack. It seemed whatever she had to say, she’d say it when her son was out of earshot.

Tom and Donald glanced up from where they were hinging a cedar door onto the new root cellar, which they’d built into the side of a small hill. The clearing for the cabin had been leveled, and the six-by-six boards laid for the floor. Toward the back of the structure, where the kitchen would be, a shiny water pump handle protruded three feet above the new well. It was starting to shape up nicely, and Amanda was counting down the days when she’d no longer have to work with Tom Murdock. The sting of their last argument still burned in her cheeks.

Her divorce was still no one’s business but hers.

She knew it wasn’t Tom’s fault that he’d been the messenger about William’s new sons.

After this year’s winter, the coldest blizzard they’d had in decades, she’d heard William had lost half his cattle in the freeze. Knowing how difficult that struggle must have been for his wife, Amanda was happy the young woman had healthy babies to keep her company.

But Amanda’s argument with Tom just went to prove how different they were.

She watched the rich outline of his shoulders as he heaved on the door. Did he know she’d lost a baby? She doubted it. He hadn’t mentioned it when they’d argued. Neither she nor William had registered the baby’s birth—as most parents didn’t—so the Mounties wouldn’t have easily discovered it.

“What is it?” Amanda asked after Pierce had disappeared inside. She offered her friend a chair.

Ellie preferred to stand. “Two orphans are comin’ to town.”

“Orphans?” Amanda felt her pulse rush in surprise.

“It’s too bad your cabin’s not built yet, aye, Amanda, or you could take ’em.”

Amanda’s mind began to race with possibilities. With hope. “Who are they?”

“Their pa was a telegrapher fer the CP Railway, and he’d been workin’ up at the camp that was surveyin’ the land north of here, at Lake Louise. Two years ago he and his wife drowned in a canoein’ accident. One of the older women in camp has been lookin’ after the children, but I hear her rheumatism’s gettin’ the better of her, and she can’t get around anymore.”

“Do they have any other family?”

“An aunt somewhere in Quebec, I hear, but the rumor is—” Ellie rushed forward and lowered her voice “—she’s got a terrible marriage, with five children of ’er own. She doesn’t want any more mouths to feed.”