In His Eyes(2)

Ella dropped plates of boiled ham and lumpy potatoes down in front of men still dressed in an array of grays and butternut that had passed for the ragged uniforms of the Confederacy and tried to finish the task as soon as possible. After placing the final chipped plate from the tray, Ella hurried away before any of the men could grab her as they had done the last time Mrs. Hatch made her come to the dining room.

She breathed a sigh of relief at not being manhandled just as a scream cut through the rafters and pierced through the clangor of the dining area. The room fell into a lull, and Ella held her breath.

Mrs. Hatch cut a glance to Ella then back over the frowns of those gathered for their meal and a glint came into her muddy brown eyes. “Looks like one of the gents done found him a strumpet from Miss Lissy’s.”

A wave of raucous laughter rolled over Ella, filling her with indignation. She thrust her chin out at Mrs. Hatch and whirled around, hurrying for the kitchen. No one should be left alone in such agony, most especially with the heartless laughter of careless fools behind their back.

Ella tossed the serving tray on the brick floor and gathered a pot of water and two drying cloths. Then she straightened her spine and headed for the stairs.

As she opened the door to Cynthia’s quarters, Ella feared for both the mother and babe. No matter the woman’s reputation or sins, someone must help her. Gathering her strength, Ella stepped into the room and set the pot of water and the cloths on the small table beside the bed, removing the nearly dry basin. Taking up the washing cloth again and securing a smile on her face, Ella turned back to the struggling woman.

“You…came back,” Cynthia said, gasping.

“Of course I did.”

Cynthia mustered a weak smile before succumbing to another moan. “Not many would. Do you know what to do?”

Ella shook her head. “I’m sorry. None of the married women could get away and….”

“No need to lie. I know the truth of it.” Another pain wracked her body, and she bit down on a wad of the bedding to contain her scream. When it passed her shoulders slumped. “Ain’t going to make it.”

Ella bathed the woman’s head with the tepid water. “Hush, now. You’ll be fine. And the babe, too.” Before the woman could protest, Ella bowed her head. “Lord, we ask that you would spare this mother and her child. Let the birthing come easier…and, please, help me know what to do.”

When she opened her eyes Cynthia was staring at her. “Nobody ever prays for me.” Tears fell from her faded blue eyes and made tracks down her reddened cheeks. “Not since that Remington woman took pity on my sister and me last year. Good folks, them.”

Suddenly she clutched Ella’s hand. “The baby is coming.” Her face contorted. “Quick now, you’ll have… to catch him.”

Ella hesitated for only an instant before throwing back the bedclothes and revealing the woman’s legs. Sending up another request for strength, Ella prepared to grow up beyond her maiden years. As soon as she glimpsed the messy truth of the miracle of birth, Ella knew why such things were shielded from girls. But she was twenty-two now, and hardly a girl. Already an old maid. What could it matter now?

Cynthia leaned forward on her elbows and began to push. Ella grabbed the clean cloths she’d brought upstairs with her, and after a moment of Cynthia’s grunts, a sodden mop of dark hair appeared on a tiny head.

Another push and cry of agony and the head came free. Ella frowned. She’d never seen a child fresh from the womb, but she didn’t think they were supposed to be that color. The babe looked nearly purple, and it didn’t move. Panic clawed at Ella’s gut, and she glanced up at Cynthia just as the woman’s eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed onto the pillow.

“Cynthia! The child is almost here. Come now, bring it on!”

Please, Lord, we need you!

The words, or perhaps the prayer, roused the exhausted woman a moment later and she positioned herself to push again. The head came fully free, followed partial by its shoulders. Ella prepared to catch the child, but then it seemed to catch. Peering closer at the discolored flesh, Ella notice that something had entangled the infant’s neck. “Cynthia! Something seems to have wrapped around the baby’s throat.”

The woman groaned. “It’s…the…cord. You’ll have to cut it free.”

Ella’s eyes widened. “Surely that cannot be good!”

“You must! You must or…or… it will die!”

Startled, Ella thrust her bloodied hands into her pocket and pulled free the tiny knife she’d stolen from her father one night when he’d been too inebriated to notice. She flipped the blade free and then stood motionless. She couldn’t possibly cut flesh, could she?

Cynthia’s next scream of agony startled Ella’s mind out of her shock. She would do what she must. Working carefully to lift the band of flesh from the baby’s neck, Ella sawed through the bloody mess with tears blurring her vision. Just as she thought she could no longer stand the feel of the flesh in her hands, the cord came free and she unwound if from the baby’s throat.

Relieved, she slipped her fingers under the tiny head and gently pulled, but the child would not slip free. Ella looked up at Cynthia, who panted heavily. “You must push again.”

She shook her head. “It’s dead.”