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Birdie's Nest Page 30
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“Yes, but as I’m sure he told you, first babies don’t always present themselves on time. He had your date pretty close though, didn’t he?”
Mattie nodded. “It was a good thing too, as I was ready to pop.”
* * *
The first Sunday in January, shortly after dinner, someone knocked on their front door. Tad answered it and ushered Detective Ethan into the parlor where they were all gathered. “Look who’s here.”
Birdie hadn’t seen him since right after the robbery. “Hello, Lloyd. What’s brought you out here on this cold day?”
Tad raised a hand. “Don’t even think about it, Ethan. Birdie has her hands full right now.”
Ethan laughed. “No detective work. I just need to talk to Birdie a minute.”
Olivia stood and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll put on a fresh pot of coffee.” She winked at the detective. “I bet you can eat a slice of my pecan pie, can’t you?”
“Ma’am, I’d be a fool to say no. I’d love a slice if it’s no trouble.”
“No trouble at all. We enjoy a pot of coffee in the afternoons, though Bethany and Birdie have taken to drinking tea or cocoa.” She motioned to Bethany. “Come help me, dear.”
Birdie sighed. Coffee still didn’t settle well on her stomach. She’d have a big cup as soon as the baby was born. “Take your coat off, Lloyd, and have a seat. What’s on your mind?”
He handed her a small package. She opened it to find her Texas Ranger Star. “Oh, my gosh!” She held it up for Tad to see. “Look! It’s mine? I got it back?”
“Yes, ma’am. After hearing about your bravery during the attempted bank robbery, General King decided you should have it back. On one condition.”
Her heart sank. What hoop did she have to jump through? “And what is that?”
“You’re not show it to anyone except the trusted members of your family.”
* * *
Tad caressed his wife’s abdomen, hoping the child inside could feel the love in his touch, before helping her into the surrey. For January, the weather was nice, probably in the fifties, but just in case, he came prepared for a cold front to blow in. Today would be Birdie’s last trip into town until after the baby was born. She’d insisted she had to see the construction site one more time before being confined to the house. This was the first time he’d seen it since before Christmas and was amazed at how much work the crew had been able to get done with the additional workers. Mr. Teague had assured them Birdie’s Nest would be finished by next Christmas, meeting the deadline Birdie considered to be so important—late in 1892.
He kept the horses trotting at a steady pace trying not to bounce Birdie too much. The springs on the vehicle gave a smooth ride, but some of the ruts in the road jolted the passengers.
The air was crisp this morning. Birdie wore her new coat and he’d tucked a wool blanket around her legs and feet. Additional blankets were in the back in case it turned colder.
When they pulled into the site, Birdie caught his arm. “I don’t want to get down, just look.”
“Good, because I’d worry about you trying to get around out there. It’d be too easy to fall.” He set the brake. She smiled and nodded. He scooted closer and put an arm around her shoulder. She nestled into the warmth of his body and allowed her gaze to roam over the house noting each bit of progress since her last visit.
She turned, laid her head on his shoulder and sighed, her breath warm against his neck. “It’s going to be beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sweetheart. Almost as beautiful as you.”
She chuckled and swatted him on the chest. “Oh, you masher, you!” Her gloved hand cupped his cheek. Nose pink from the cold, her blue eyes sparkled as she smiled up at him. “Thank you, husband, for making it possible.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Birdie rocked Nathan in the nursery. He’d fought his nap for thirty minutes so she hoped a story would help him fall asleep. Finally, on the third reading, she was rewarded with a yawn. She continued, “Mary had a little lamb…” His little eyes sagged with sleep, and then popped open, as the motion of the rocker and the tone of her voice lulled him. Two minutes later she rose from the rocker and placed him in the crib Tad had found in the attic. He’d cleaned and oiled it until the beautiful old wood glowed. The bars appeared to be too far apart to be safe, so Tad had someone in town carve duplicates and insert them between the existing ones. You couldn’t tell they’d been added, and Birdie breathed easier about Nathan’s safety.
It was time for her to put her feet up. They’d been swelling the last couple of weeks and her shoes were uncomfortable. She quietly closed the door and then walked across the hall to the master bedroom. Birdie kicked off her shoes, lay down on the bed and pulled a quilt over her. Ah, it felt so good to get off her feet. How did women who didn’t have help in their homes manage to do all their chores when pregnant? Of course, all women knew they were the stronger sex. Just try to convince a man of that, though.
Birdie woke with a backache. Darn, she never had back problems. The swelling in her feet had gone down so she stepped into her shoes and peeked in on Nathan before walking downstairs. The pain in her back continued, so when she reached the bottom, she leaned forward, back, and to each side trying to ease the kinks out.
She entered the kitchen to find Maybelle and Olivia shaping rolls for supper. “Can I help you with anything?” She rubbed at a particularly achy spot on her back. The two women exchanged glances.
“You feel all right?” Olivia wiped her hands and came around behind Birdie. “Show me where it hurts.”
“It’s just a little backache.” She pointed to the general region of the pain.
Olivia’s hands covered Birdie’s belly. It’s a good thing she wasn’t modest because when it came to her and this baby the two other women in the house weren’t shy about touching her body. “Any contractions, dear?”
“No, just this niggling little backache. I think I’ll stroll down to the barn and see Tad for a minute.”
Olivia’s brow furrowed, the look she gave Birdie one of command. “You know, the pain could be the onset of labor. If it gets any worse you come straight back to the house. For that matter, take your pistol and fire a shot so someone can come help you.”
“Yes, ma’am. I will.” She slipped into her coat, wrapped a scarf around her head and felt for her revolver in the pocket.
Birdie sucked in deep lungs full of the fresh air. The day was clear, not a cloud in sight. It felt good to stretch her legs and the exercise seemed to be helping her aches. She was halfway there when a pain started in her back and worked its way around her belly. Hmm, guess that’s what a contraction feels like. It wasn’t so bad. She continued on her way. Walking was good during labor, made the process move along faster, or so she’d heard.
Another pain had her doubling over. More intense, this one lasted longer. A gush of warm water escaped from her body wetting her underclothes and petticoat. Well, rats! Should she go back? Stupid question, Birdie. She turned around and started back to the house, stopping every so often to deal with the pain.
She opened the back door.
“You back so soon…oh dear, child. Lets get you upstairs.” Olivia took one arm, Maybelle the other. Olivia yelled up the stairs. She never yelled. “Bethany, ring the bell. Birdie’s in labor.”
* * *
The peal of the ranch bell rang out above the noise in the cattle pen and the barn. Tad froze, his heart stopped for a moment, and then he broke into a run. He was halfway to the house when Hank rode up, and extended an arm. Tad grabbed hold and Hank pulled him up onto the back of his horse. He drew the animal to a halt by the back door. Tad slid to the ground and rushed for the door. Hank kicked his horse into a run. As previously arranged, at the sound of that bell, Hank was to go for Dr. Floyd. Dang, he needed to have one of those telephones installed.
Tad took the stairs two at a time and slid to a stop just inside the master bedroom. Mother had stripped Birdie
and was helping her into a gown. “Birdie, you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Her smile turned into a grimace as she held her belly.
Mother directed Birdie over to the chair. “Sit down now and let us get the bed ready.”
He quickly sat down and eased Birdie down on his lap. He rubbed her belly. “I’m sorry it has to be so painful, sweetheart.”
She slipped her arm around his neck and kissed his forehead. “I can handle it, love.”
“Hank has gone for Dr. Floyd. He’ll be here as soon as possible.”
“According to your mother, we probably have plenty of time.” She clutched her belly and groaned. Tad felt her muscles tighten as the contraction gripped her. “Oh, God, Olivia, they’re getting stronger.”
“Things are moving faster than normal. Tad, help her into bed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Birdie stood and with an arm around her waist, Tad walked her to the bed. She eased down and scooted to the center of the mattress before lying back against the pillows. He drew the covers up to her waist before sitting on the side. “What can I do sweetheart?”
“Just be here and hold my hand when a contraction hits.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Eight hours later, Dr. Floyd delivered their baby. The infant immediately voiced its displeasure at this cold new environment. “Congratulations, you have a healthy baby girl.” He spent several minutes examining their daughter and then returned his attention to her. “Both of you are doing well. No complications, so more babies in your future shouldn’t be a problem.”
Tad wasn’t sure he wanted to see Birdie go through so much pain again. They had a boy and a girl. He could be content.
Dr. Floyd cleaned his equipment and packed up his supplies. “I best be going. Have another lady about to deliver any day now. Just give me a yell if you need anything.” He nodded at Olivia and Maybelle. “It appears I’m leaving you in good hands, so goodnight.”
Tad walked the doctor to the front door. “Thank you, Doctor. Hopefully by the next child we’ll have telephone service out here.”
“Don’t count on it. The phone company is just now getting poles up across the river.” He waved as he jogged down the front steps.
Upstairs, he sat on the side of the bed facing Birdie. She smiled. “I told you we’d have a girl.”
“Yes, ma’am, you did.” The baby continued to scream as Mother bathed and wrapped her in a warm blanket. “Do you have a name picked out for her?”
Birdie lifted her hand to his cheek, her blue eyes gleamed and a tear leaked from the corner of one. “I’d like to name her Patricia Leigh and call her Patty.”
Tad had difficulty speaking around the lump in his throat. He wished there was some way her aunt could join them. “It’s a beautiful name and fitting. In honor of your Aunt Patty?”
She nodded.
With tears in her eyes, Mother kissed the baby’s forehand and then laid Patty in Birdie’s arms. “Here’s your beautiful daughter, Birdie. You hold her for a few minutes and then let Tad take over so we can get you cleaned up.”
Tad stretched out beside Birdie on the bed and slipped an arm behind her head. She unwrapped the infant and checked fingers and toes. “She’s perfect.”
“Yes, she is.” Birdie wrapped the blanket back around their daughter. He leaned forward and ran a finger down the baby’s soft cheek. She turned toward the appendage with her mouth open. Birdie chuckled. “Let her suck on your finger. She’s hungry but that might satisfy her for a minute.” He did as she suggested, amazed at the strength of the child’s grasp as she held onto his thumb.
Warmth spread through him, and he felt the embarrassing need to cry. It was the same sensation he’d felt when he’d first held Nathan—pride and instant love he supposed. But there was also joy in this situation. The joy of loving Birdie and the gifts she’d given him, her love and acceptance of Nathan and now this precious baby girl.
He coughed to remove the knot in his throat. “She’s beautiful, Birdie, almost as beautiful as her mother.”
Birdie’s palm cupped his cheek. “She is, isn’t she?” She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him, her lips soft and lingering in her exploration. “I love you.”
“I love you, Birdie. I never dreamed I could be so happy in marriage and though I regret what you went through, time traveling and all, I’m grateful I was the one to pull you from the Brazos that day. Because otherwise I wouldn’t have you.”
“All right you two let me take her while you get up, Tad.” Mother lifted the baby from Birdie’s arms and placed her in his.
“I’m going down to show Bethany and Sarah.”
“Be careful going down those stairs.”
“Yes, Mother.” Poor Birdie. Mama would probably try to take over, but he bet Birdie could handle the situation.
Bethany was asleep on the sofa but Sarah jumped up and rushed over for a look. She looked at him with questions in her eyes.
“A girl, Sarah. Her name is Patty.”
“Oh, for Birdie’s aunt. I know Birdie is thrilled. You watch. She’ll have that little pink bonnet on her as soon as she’s up and around.” She stroked the soft downy hair. “Oh, she’s sweet and I can’t imagine two more deserving parents. Congratulations, Mr. Tad.”
“Thank you, Sarah.”
Thirty minutes or so later, Mother called from upstairs. “She’s ready, Tad.”
It was a good thing as Patty’s fussing had increased in volume. He couldn’t resist a grin. She’d suck on his finger a minute and then cry. This little one wouldn’t be easy to pacify.
He took the stairs slowly. His mother waited at the bedroom door and ushered him in. Tad placed the wailing baby in Birdie’s arms. He sat down on the edge of the bed and watched as his daughter nursed greedily. “She was hungry.”
“Yes, indeed she was.”
Mother and Maybelle, smiles on their faces and arms loaded with linens and basins, slipped from the room.
They watched their daughter until her little fists relaxed and she allowed the nipple to pop from her mouth. Birdie lifted Patty to her shoulder and patted gently. After several minutes they were rewarded with a small burp.
Birdie handed the baby to him. “Lay her in the cradle. In a minute we’ll know if she burped enough or not.”
Tad placed Patty in the heirloom cradle that had been in their family since his father’s time. Though she was wrapped in a blanket, he pulled a knitted blanket up to her chest. He straightened, but before he could leave the baby’s side, her little hands came out and she was sucking a fist. “She acts like she’s still hungry.”
“Let’s give her a minute and see if she fusses.”
Well, she was a woman so obviously she knew more than Tad. He returned to the bed, kicked off his shoes, stretched out leaning against the headboard and cuddled her close. “Don’t you need to get some sleep?”
She yawned. “Mmm-hmm, but I want to make sure Patty is going to stay down for a little while.”
The baby started fussing and within minutes had worked up to a full scream. “Wow, she’s got a set of lungs.” Tad lifted his daughter from the cradle and placed her in Birdie’s arms.
“Yes she does, Daddy.” Birdie grinned. “Welcome to our world for probably the next six months.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
January 1920, Waco, Texas
Birdie sat behind her desk in the office. She held a family picture taken in front of Birdie’s Nest when the children were young. Bethany’s husband had taken the photo with a Brownie Camera after a family picnic down by the river. Nathan, the oldest stood with his arm around Patty’s shoulders. The twins, Julie and Jason sat on the grass at their feet. Birdie and Tad were behind the two oldest children, each with a hand on their shoulders. All five of them wore big smiles. With a finger, Birdie touched each of the faces so beloved by her and Tad. Her gaze returned to Tad, the man who was her all. Now, in their sixties, their love was as strong as it had been thirty years a
go.
The years had flown by so fast. With the children to keep her busy, she’d had very little time to devote to police work. Occasionally Ethan would come by and ask her opinion about something, but he came less and less as the years passed. He’d married Lauren Smith and they now had five children. Lucinda was ecstatic to have grandchildren and doted on them. Not that Birdie and Tad were any different. They had seven grandchildren and five nieces and nephews.
In 1917, when Germany resumed the use of submarine warfare and sank seven U.S. merchant ships, President Wilson called for war on Germany and on April 6, 1917 Congress declared war and the U.S. joined the other Allied countries in the Great War. In 1918, the United States began sending 10,000 troops a day to France. Both of their sons were drafted. With both of their boys, as well as Patty’s son, overseas, the family spent much of their time in the evenings listening to the radio for any news coming from the front. Those were terrible times. Due to new technology—wireless communication, armored cars and tanks, aircraft and chemical warfare the casualty rate was high. Tad carried his worry silently, but it aged him considerably. The day they came home safe and sound, the sparkle returned to his eyes.
After the Armistice Treaty in 1918, the country faced the Spanish flu, an illness of pandemic proportions. It was first identified in troops at Camp Funston, Kansas in March of 1918. By October it had spread worldwide and affected one-third of the world’s population, the casualty rate higher than that of the war. Several in the family contracted the disease, but by the grace of God, no one died.
The front door opened and closed. “Mother.” Nathan called from the entryway.
“In the office.” Birdie smiled. She’d not seen her eldest son in several weeks. She stood as he entered the room and gave him a big hug. “It’s about time you came to see us. Your father will be here shortly.”
“I’m not sure I can stay that long.”
“You can’t stay for supper?”
“No, I better get home to Angela and the kids. With the baby close to arriving, she tires easily.”