22

Catherine was different from the beginning. Unlike Ruby, Catherine O’Shaughnessy came rapidly and quietly. Mrs. Alderson raced up the stairs to find Mary fully dilated and baby O’Shaughnessy’s head beginning to show. By the time Dr. Ruggles arrived, Mrs. Alderson had cleaned mother and baby, and Mary cradled the infant in her arms.

“You came to check my work?” Mrs. Alderson said with a scowl on her face and a twist of the shoulder.

Will knew she was contemptuous of male attendees at her sacred rituals, even those with “M.D.” behind their names.

Dr. Ruggles stepped around Mrs. Alderson, gently lifted the newborn from Mary’s arms, and examined her. And the baby didn’t utter a whimper until he gently slapped her on the bottom.

“That was hardly necessary,” Mrs. Alderson said. “I cleared her throat and cleaned her mouth long ago.” She snatched the crying child from him. “Now now, my dear, don’t let that awful man scare you.”

“And what should we call this wee lass?” Will said. “So calm and peaceful. She’s no Boudica, that’s for sure.”

“Your mother suggested Malvina,” Mary said. “A good Celtic name. You should like that. Besides it’s a special name, a name that stands out. More distinguished than plain old Mary.”

“Well sure, she’s special. She’s our daughter. But Mary suits me. The first two turned out quite splendid.”

“Three would be a crowd. She’d be the only Malvina in Ashley Springs. You don’t like Malvina?”

“Now I won’t be knockin’ a good Celtic name, mind you, but it’s a bit highfalutin for my liking. Our neighbors’ Marthas, Shirleys, and Agneses are special, too. It’s not the name that makes the person. It’s the person who makes the name. Look what that great Russian Empress did for the name Catherine.”

“Catherine,” Mary said softly, then louder, “Catherine.”

“I like that,” Will said. “A royal name for a fine little girl.”

“Catherine,” Mary said again. “A romantic name, a poetic name, a regal name.”

And the name fit.

* * *

His business grew so fast that Will decided to employ another worker, but everyone thrived these days, so few were available for hire. He placed ads and asked around for a month, but until Saul Paxson came through the door, he had no takers.

“Mr. O’Shaughnessy,” Saul said, “I hear you’re looking for a worker.”

“That I am, my boy. Interested? Have you ever repaired cars before?”

“Only farm machinery. But I plan to be a farmer someday, and soon, too.”

Will perked up. Farmers made good workers. “That’s how I started.”

“No one wants to hire me. They know I may not stay long.”

“How’s that?”

“I’ve saved money to buy a farm. Almost have enough now.”

Will liked his honesty. “So, you may not stay long?”

“That’s the problem. But I’ll work hard. I promise that.”

“You really want to be a farmer? It’s a hard life. I can tell you that. Maybe you’ll like it here. Maybe you’ll want to stay.”

“Oh, I want to farm, always have.”

Will smiled.

“I sure hope the economy stays strong,” Saul said.

“All businesses benefit from a strong demand. But with farming, there’s much more to worry about. You must know that.”

“I’ve worked on a farm before.”

“But it’s different when you’re the owner. Between weather, disease, and just plain bad luck, you’re always putting Humpty Dumpty back together again. You’ve got to be tough.”

“S’pose so.”

Will smiled and slowly shook his head. He couldn’t believe how much he sounded like Grandpa. “Come ready to work first thing Monday morning.”

* * *

Will fawned over his newest daughter. “Why, she never cries,” he said. “Our other children cried, but I seldom hear a whimper from this little one. Dad says he’s never seen one like her.”

“Didn’t you say that about Michael?” Mary said.

Will winced. He’d tried to avoid thoughts of Michael since Sharon’s birth. He didn’t want to think about him, and was terrified that it would happen again.

“It’s clear, Will. That little one has captured your heart.”

“Fanny is about to foal,” Will said. “Do you think the girls are too young to see the birth?”

“Sharon may be old enough, but no, she’d faint dead away. Better just show them the young’n after it’s up and about.”

Will didn’t complain about having three girls who couldn’t help at the shop. With three workers now, he would sometimes take Fridays off, but he couldn’t stay away for long. Now that Catherine was almost a year old, Will bundled her into the stroller and took her into town to show her off. And he usually stopped at the shop first.

“Now, isn’t she the spittin’ image?” Ed said. “Why, she’s got your dimples, Will.”

Will turned Catherine to the light. “See, Ed, the lass has sunshine in her hair.” He tipped her down to where the light accentuated her tresses. “Look close.” He pointed. “See? There’s a whisper of strawberry, too.”

“Like your mother’s.”

Catherine beamed a broad smile at her father. He knew that she loved his attention. “Now isn’t she the darlingest?” Will said.

But he knew that Mary wouldn’t agree with his conclusion about their daughter’s hair. He heard her say more than once that Catherine had hair just like hers, and Mary’s was golden brown, like a field of ripe oats.

“How’s the new fella doing? Do you think he’ll be a repairman?”

“It’ll take a while,” Ed said, “but he works hard. I’m kinda excited about getting into sales. I’ve never been on commission before.”

“You’ll do well. You’ve got the personality. Gotta go.”

Will lowered the hood on the stroller and turned toward the exit.

Catherine cooed her approval.

“Sure’s a good baby,” Ed said. ”Haven’t heard a whimper from her.”

“That’s what I tell Mary.”

“Let’s see,” he said as he pushed the stroller down the street. “I suppose mama would object if we stopped at Bennie’s.” But he waved when he saw Bennie and Mayor Burns exit the building.

“Hey, Will, is that the new baby?” Tommy Burns said as he stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Not so new. Almost a year old now.” Will pulled back the cheesecloth that sheltered her face. “I can’t have her getting too much sun. Not yet anyhow.”

“She’s a beauty,” Bennie said. “Looks like her mother. How do you deserve the two prettiest ladies in Ashley Springs?”

“’Tis the luck of the Irish”

“Lucky she doesn’t have your looks,” Burns said. “It’d be a terrible load for a lass to carry that visage around.”

Will faked a body jab and Burns retreated.

“Have you invested in the market yet?” Burns said. “Make your hay while the sun shines, that’s what I say. Why, you can buy a thousand dollars worth for only a hundred up front.”

“I’ve bought a little, but I won’t buy margin,” Will said.

“I’ll put my money in Scotch whiskey,” Bennie said. “You can send your money overseas and buy it by the keg. And they’ll hold it until it’s aged, and by then our country’s craziness will have ended. I should make some money there eventually.”

“Do you really think prohibition will end?” Will said.

“Probably, but I shouldn’t complain. I’ve never done better.”

“Stocks are a surer bet,” Burns said. “They’re heading up. You better jump on the wagon while it’s rolling downhill.” He grasped Will’s shoulder. “Easy money. Don’t get left behind.”

“I’m not so sure, Tommy. That hill may not be as long as you think.”

“I’m sticking with Scotch whiskey,” Bennie said. “If it doesn’t boom, I can sell it to Tommy here, one drink at a time.”

“You got that right,” Will said as he carefully replaced the cheesecloth over Catherine. “Gotta show this lass the town. I’ll see you, fellas.”

Will strolled down the valley road. The spring sun was warm, but the emerging leaves in the overhead canopy protected Catherine from its heat. Before he reached the water, he turned back. Will hadn’t visited that stream since he took Michael there, and he couldn’t do it now. Instead, he walked around the block and back toward the small barn across the street from his shop, the barn where he kept Fanny and Mabel, a barn too small for three horses and their feed and bedding. He knew that when the foal came, he’d have to covert some of the storage space. “Let’s visit our horsey.”

But Catherine didn’t hear a word he said. She was fast asleep.

Will pushed her stroller through the doorway and toward the stall. When he approached Fanny, she nickered loud enough to wake the sleeping child. Will wouldn’t have known that she was awake if she hadn’t babbled in response to Fanny’s greeting, and Fanny talked back.

Will could see that Fanny was getting big. She must be close to delivery, he thought. He lifted Catherine from her carrier and held her up to his horse. When Fanny nuzzled her nose, Catherine laughed and reached out.

Will opened the stall’s door and carried Catherine inside. Fanny leaned against his shoulder, but swung around when he tapped her on the flank. Then Will carefully placed Catherine on Fanny’s back, but held tight.

Catherine squealed her approval.

“You’re going to be the best little horsewoman in town,” he said as he urged Fanny around her small stall.

Catherine grabbed Fanny’s mane and shrieked her delight as they circled the enclosure. Fanny turned her head toward her new friend and nickered her consent; then, she nuzzled her old friend on the shoulder.

“I think you two are going to be pals,” he said. “And I think you’re already the best little horsewoman in Ashley Springs.” He felt exhilarated by Catherine’s fondness for his old friend, but he shivered at the thought of Michael, at the thought it could happen again. He wished that Mary hadn’t resurrected his name.