In His Eyes(3)

“Now!” Ella snapped.

Cynthia pushed back to her elbows and gave one final heave, and the wee one came free into Ella’s arms. “A son, Cynthia!”

The woman turned her head away. Ella looked back down at the still form, and her elation slipped away. He didn’t move. Didn’t cry. And his skin looked so waxy and blue…

Oh, Father, save this little one.

Not knowing what else to do, Ella turned the wee boy over and began rubbing on his back, patting gently. Just as she’d nearly released all hope, a sudden tremor came through the infant, and then a strangled cry. Ella kept patting and began to jiggle him just a bit until the cry strengthened.

Thrilled, she turned back to Cynthia. “He lives!”

Cynthia gave only a slight nod. Ella wrapped the child in the clean cloths. “Here, now.” She stretched him toward his mother. “See your son.”

“It is not my son.”

The soft words hung on the air, and Ella frowned. “Of course he is. Here, look at him. A fine child to be sure.”

The woman sobbed but still kept her head turned. Ella pulled the child back against her. The baby squirmed, then opened two little eyes. Dark pools of wonder stared up at her, and something within Ella lurched. “Cynthia,” Ella said, her voice barely a whisper. “Look at this beautiful child.”

The woman refused to turn her head, and so Ella placed him on his mother’s chest. “He must eat, Cynthia. That much I know. Won’t you at least let him eat?”

As though to confirm Ella’s request, the child’s face scrunched and a wail filled the room. “See now, he’s hungry.”

Cynthia looked at Ella, and finally relented. Pulling aside her ragged gown, she wrapped her arm around the baby and lifted him. In a few moments, he began to suckle. Relieved, Ella collapsed on the side of the bed. “There, see? Our prayers have been answered.”

Cynthia didn’t respond. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the pillow.

Poor woman must be exhausted. Ella came to her feet. She’d want a new gown, and some clean linens for certain. Ella could probably take the ones from the pallet she had in the storeroom. As long as she could slip them past Mrs. Hatch without the woman taking notice of her. Best to busy her hands and be sure the new family had what they needed.

Ella glanced down at the bed to see how to best remove the bedclothes and halted her thoughts. A crimson stain spread across the bottom of Cynthia’s gown and onto the sheets. “Cynthia! Is the bleeding normal?”

She looked up to find the other woman gazing down at her child. “No. I will not make it.”

The words held more strength than she expected. Ella drew a sharp breath. “Don’t say such things. I will go and fetch a doctor.” She clenched her fists. “Whatever it takes, I will see that someone comes to help.”

Cynthia gently laughed as she drew the baby closer. “You are a good girl. So kind to care for one like me.” She looked up at Ella with something sparking in her eyes. “Promise me something.”

Ella dropped back down on the bed, but said nothing.

“Promise me you will find him a good home when I am gone.”

Ella struggled to withhold tears. “Don’t say that. You’ll be fine.”

“No, dear girl. I feel the life slipping from me.” She patted Ella’s hand. “Tell me, do you think…do you think the God you prayed to would have me, even as I am?”

Ella bobbed her head and clutched the woman’s hand. “I am sure of it. You need only ask.” At least, that is what her mother had always taught her.

Cynthia gave a small smile. “I did, a bit ago whilst you were turning pale looking at the bed.”

Ella’s brows rose.

“Don’t fret. I am…thankful that my torment has at long last come to an end. Perhaps the next place will be clean and beautiful.” A smile played on her lips, contrasting with the pain in her eyes. “Maybe then…maybe I can be clean and beautiful again too.”

A tear slid down Ella’s cheek, and she swiped it away. “Yes, it will be very beautiful there.”

Cynthia gazed down at the child, then looked up at Ella with concern. “Please.” Her face puckered. “I’ve not much time….”

“Yes. Yes, I will find him a home.” Somehow….

“Take him to the Remington place. They are good, God-fearing people there. Took care of me once. They had a wet nurse. Take him there. Mrs. Remington will find him a home.”

Ella choked down a sob. “I will. I promise.”

Cynthia placed a gentle kiss on the baby’s brow. “Goodbye, little one.” She settled back against the pillow. Then, before Ella could react, the light left her eyes.

Choking on sobs, Ella picked up the child from his dead mother’s arms and snuggled him against her chest. “There now, wee one. Don’t you worry. We will have you a home by morning’s light.”

Then she kissed his downy hair and prayed she hadn’t just spoken a lie.





Major Westley Remington III heard voices somewhere in the distance. They danced about somewhere just out of his ability to decipher them, tempting him to break free of the cloak of indistinct shadows that hung over him. He attempted to rouse himself, but found the task nigh impossible. Caught between the lands of dream and reality, he drifted about like a man caught in a current without a raft.