The Twelfth Child (Serendipity #1)(3)
On the fourth day, a sudden rush of warm water ran down Livonia’s legs and she called out for Ruby.
“This is it, honey,” Ruby grinned an almost toothless smile. “That baby’s coming; before noontime he’ll be suckling at your breast.” But hour after passed and it was almost dinnertime before the first baby arrived—a boy, small in size but healthy and squalling. The sky had turned to an ominous black before the second baby was born—this one a girl, smaller than the boy, but healthy.
Ruby called out to the barn for William to come. “You got yourself a healthy boy,” she said handing him the first baby. “Matter of fact, you got two babies.”
“Both boys?”
“No. The second one’s a girl—a mite small, but healthy enough.”
“Oh,” William answered, then walked away with the boy in his arms and did not turn back to see the second baby. “William,” he said aloud. “I’ll name him William after myself and my father, and his father before him. William Lannigan. The young master of what will one day be the finest farm in the Shenandoah Valley.”
From her bed Livonia could see William holding the boy baby in his arms. She cuddled the girl closer to her breast and whispered, “It’s okay, sweetheart, don’t worry. Your Papa’s gonna love you too, he just needs time.”
Livonia wanted to believe her own words, but thoughts of William’s behavior kept her from sleep. Late that night, after both babies had been tucked into the same cradle, she heard someone moving about the parlor. She knew who it was by the shuffle of heavy boots. The footsteps stopped for a moment then a flicker of light came from the doorway. The lamp had been lit. William never liked to sit in the parlor, so why would he do it in the middle of the night? Curious, Livonia climbed from the bed and tiptoed into the hallway; she remained back in the shadows where she could see but not be seen. She watched as William took a key from the top ledge of his grandfather’s secretary; unlocked the cabinet door and removed a large black book. He then lowered the writing shelf and took a pen in his hand. For a long moment he sat there leafing through the pages and shaking his head in the most sorrowful way. He paused for a moment, wiped his hand across his eyes, and then started to write. After only a few strokes of his pen, he replaced the book and closed the cabinet door. Livonia slipped back into bed before she was discovered.
The next morning William rode off to the fields as he did every day and Ruby readied herself to leave. “You take care of that little girl,” the old woman told Livonia. “The mister will see to the boy, but that sweet little thing is gonna have a hard time of it. I can feel it in my bones.”
“He’ll come to love her too,” Livonia answered. “He just needs time.”
“Mind my words, Missy, that little girl needs to know she’s loved cause she’s gonna walk a mighty rocky road. I know these things. I got a sense of the future; I see things most people won’t never see.” Ruby pulled a tiny leather pouch from her pocket; it was cracked and weathered, but wound tight with a yellow tie. “You put this under her pillow every night. She’ll grow strong, able to get by no matter what meanness comes her way.” She placed the gift in the palm of Livonia’s hand. “Don’t undo the tie and don’t tell nobody you got it.”
“What’s inside?”
“Courage; it came from the heart of a she-wolf.” Ruby hoisted herself astride the mule and started down the road. Only once did she stop and call back, “Mind my words, missy, mind my words.” The old woman with her scrawny legs hooked around the belly of a gray mule then disappeared around the bend. For a few minutes Livonia stood there letting Ruby’s words take root in her heart; then before the trail of red dust settled, she started down the road after the old woman.
“Wait, Ruby!” she called out; but by time she reached the bend, the old woman was gone. “Please, please don’t go …” Livonia sobbed but her words were swallowed by the mountain mist and she was left with only the sound of a frail echo.
Livonia returned to the house and lifted the smallest baby from the cradle. “You’re our precious baby girl,” she cooed. “Of course your Papa’s gonna love you. He just had his mind set on a boy. Give him time, honey, just give him time.”
During the laziest part of the afternoon, after William had eaten his mid-day meal and returned to the fields, after the babies were fed and sound asleep, Livonia’s thoughts returned to the book she had seen William worrying over. She carried a kitchen chair into the parlor, climbed up on it and felt along the top ledge of the secretary. The key was on the back edge. She unlocked the cabinet doors and took a large black book from the top shelf. It was the Lannigan Family Bible. On the first page was the handwritten notation: William Matthew Lannigan—born September 1824—died January 1879
Married to Hester Louise Dooley—March 1842
Sired three sons:
William John Lannigan—born August 1856
Joseph John Lannigan—born September 1857—died August 1883
Samuel John Lannigan—born July 1859—died October 1883
This was the Lannigan family bible. Why Livonia wondered, would William feel the need to lock it away? For a moment she was saddened by the thought that both of his brothers had died in the prime of their life. Neither of her babies would ever even know them. Why, Livonia herself was not yet born the year they died. She thanked the Lord God Almighty that her William had been spared then she moved on to the next page.