Page 37 of The Autumn Wife
Did she say his name out loud, or did it catch against the lump in her throat?
“You deserve happiness.” He gave her a gentle shake. “Do you hear me?”
Yes, she could hear him. Yes, she nodded, blinking at a fresh wave of tears.
“I wish,” he said, pushing the words out, “I wish—”
A shout interrupted him, though she didn’t know what was shouted or from whence it came.
The shout repeated, closer.
“Cecile!”
A mountainous shape approached fast. Theo released his grip and stepped back a distance that felt like miles.
“Thank God you’re here!”
Captain Girard came to a heavy running stop, coatless, hatless, his gray gaze panicked.
“The baby,” he blurted as he swung an arm back toward the cabin. “It’s coming—it’s comingnow.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Theo remained on the riverbank as Cecile, her blue skirts kicking up sun-bleached petticoats, tore full speed toward the Girards’ cabin. The captain—despite his immense size—bolted after her. Theo stared at the place where Cecile had just stood as the thousand words he’d meant to speak choked him.
He’d waited too long.
He shook himself, mentally and physically. This was not the time nor the place to be dwelling on his own distress. An emergency unfolded at the cabin, and he must offer what help he could. Turning to the canoe, he grabbed one of the packets Mother Superior had ordered him to deliver—clean linens and medicines—probably meant for the birth, he realized. He raced up the muddy path, watching Cecile fly up the three stairs to swing the cabin dooropen. She twirled in the doorway and shut the door in the captain’s face.
When Theo reached the porch a few moments later, the captain still stood at the door like a soldier at attention. Theo slung the package off his shoulder, set it on the floorboards, and raised his voice to let Cecile know he’d brought supplies and that they waited outside. Straightening, he slapped the captain’s shoulder in sympathy, having no idea what else to do.
“It’s a damnable thing,” Captain Girard said between clenched teeth. “Adamnablething, what women suffer through.”
Theo nodded, though he knew nothing about the matter. When his younger sisters and brothers had been born, Theo’s stepfather had shuttled him off to a neighbor’s house, saying it was bad luck to have another man’s child anywhere near the birth of his own. By the time Theo’s sisters had grown old enough to be married and birth nieces and nephews, Theo had already been exiled.
Just another item on a long list of losses.
A twisted, agonized cry erupted from inside the cabin. Captain Girard made a guttural noise and squeezed his eyes shut. At another eruption of pain, the giant turned on one heel and bolted to the far end of the porch.
Theo couldn’t blame the man for wanting to disappear into the vast woods beyond. But as soon as the captain reached the porch’s end, he swiveled on aheel and bolted back, repeating the pacing with ever more energy.
At one turn, the captain paused and blinked at Theo, as if seeing him for the first time.
“The Reverend Mother sent me,” Theo said by introduction. “I’m Theo Martin, stonemason.”
Awareness passed across that battle-hardened face. “You must be thirsty.” The captain strode toward an upright crate and seized the wine bottle waiting on top of it. “I intended this for…after. But the birth is taking too long.”
Pulling the cork out with a small knife he pulled from his belt, the captain poured wine into a pewter cup with a shaky hand before shoving the cup and a good portion of the wine into Theo’s chest. As Theo raised the cup to his lips, the captain took a swig directly from the bottle, muscular throat flexing.
“The last babe came so fast, I missed this part.” He swiped his chin with the back of his hand. “Women say the first babe takes the longest. Everyone told me not to worry, so back then, I came whistling home on the day she went into labor. When I got here, she was all cleaned up with our son in her arms.”
The giant wasn’t looking at him, wasn’t really talking to him, and Theo got the impression he wasn’t thinking about anything but his wife groaning behind these walls. The size of the man struck him. Theo was used to being the tallest person in any room, but he had to tilt his chin to meet this captain’s tormentedgaze. A soldier of the bloody wars of Flanders, Cecile had said. He was a wall of muscle who now flinched at every cry coming from within the cabin.
“I think,” the captain said in a voice as sharp as chips of stone, “she didn’t want me to witness this.”
“No woman wants her husband to hear this, I imagine.” Into Theo’s mind came an image of Cecile lying on a bed, drenched in sweat, her belly a dome, her head thrown back in a cry of agony just like the one now vibrating through these stone walls…
His heart thudded. His hip hit the railing.
