MUFFLED MOANS AWAKENED ANNA BEFORE DAWN ON the Fourth of July. Barefoot, she went to the bedroom at the opposite end of the hall and tapped on the door. “Abe?”
The door jerked open a few moments later. Perspiration beaded Abe’s forehead, and his eyes were filled with concern.
“Is it Violet?” Anna asked, although she knew the answer. “What can I do to help?”
“We need Minnie York to come right away. I don’t think this baby’s going to take long, no matter what they told us to expect. Can you ride over to the York farm and get her? The telephone isn’t working. I tried about an hour ago.”
“I’ll get dressed and go right now.” Anna spun away and ran to her room. She dressed in a hurry and tied her hair back with a ribbon without bothering to run a brush through the tangled curls. Then she was down the stairs, out the door, and into the barn where she saddled Shiloh’s Star and rode away from the yard as dawn became a pale promise in the east.
According to what Violet had told Anna a few weeks before, Minnie York had delivered most of the babies in Kings Meadow for the last twenty years. Certainly the experienced midwife had delivered more babies than the young physician, David Chapman, who’d opened his practice in the valley this past spring. Luckily for Anna, the York farm butted up against the Leonards’ east pastureland. It didn’t take Shiloh’s Star long to carry her there.
Almost as if she’d been anticipating Anna’s arrival, Minnie York opened the door with her leather bag already in hand. “Is it time?”
“Yes. Hurry. Abe says the baby’s coming fast.”
“What does he know? All he’s delivered is calves and pigs.” She closed the door behind her and strode toward her automobile. “If you get there first, tell Abe and Violet I’m on my way and to stay calm.”
Anna turned Shiloh’s Star around, and they began the race toward home again. The young horse gave her everything he had, his long strides eating up the ground beneath them. By the time they galloped into the Leonard barnyard, the sky overhead had turned from pewter to blue. Anna tied the reins around the hitching post and ran into the house.
Upstairs, the door to the bedroom was open. Violet’s groans filled the hallway. Looking scared to death, Abe stood beside the bed, holding his wife’s hand.
“Abe, Mrs. York’s on her way.”
He glanced toward the door. “Did you tell her to hurry?”
“I did. She was getting in her car when I started back. She should be right behind me.”
As if to prove Anna told the truth, an engine backfired below the bedroom window.
“Go see if she needs any help,” Abe ordered, his gaze returning to his wife.
Anna was quick to obey, but the most the midwife wanted from her were clean linens and hot water. After that, Anna had to be satisfied with sitting in the kitchen, listening as Violet strained to bring her baby into the world.