Chapter 9

9

O n a cold evening in late March, Franklin leaned back in the rocking chair on the front porch and crossed his feet on the railing. Lacing the fingers of both hands behind his head, he watched the fading colors of the sunset slip behind the mountain peaks, revealing a clear, starry sky. Everything was calm on the ranch. Just the way he liked it. With the number of calves his cattle had produced, he'd be able to thin the herd and sell a goodly number to the mining companies. Even ship beeves to the Denver market.

Things had settled down on the home front as well. He'd gotten used to Lorinda being a part of his household, and she was more relaxed around him. If he were honest with himself, he welcomed her presence.

Mrs. Oleson often told him how much she was enjoying all the help Lorinda gave her. She'd been missing having a woman to talk to and hadn't realized how much until Lorinda came. Maybe he'd offer the widow a permanent place on his staff. The long winter ahead would be more comfortable with his housekeeper having another woman around the place. They did work well together.

The front door squeaked open behind him. He'd need to have Rusty oil the hinges tomorrow.

"Franklin." Mrs. Oleson's voice sounded agitated.

His feet dropped to the floor with a thud, and he rose to face her. "Do you need my help?" When he caught a glimpse of her face, he knew it wasn't something simple. "What happened?"

Wringing her hands, she was more frantic than he'd ever seen her. "Lorinda has gone into labor, and it's progressing right along. We need the doctor to come as soon as possible. Could you send one of the men to get him?"

Franklin stared at her for a moment while he figured the best thing to do. "Major is the fastest horse in the stable. I'll ride into Breckenridge myself." He had to do something to help the two women under his care.

He quickly entered the house and grabbed his hat, coat, and holster. Running toward the barn, he buckled the gun belt around his waist. After he saddled his stallion, he rode out of the building while Rusty waited to close the door. He gave a quick wave to Mrs. Oleson as he sped past. A strong feeling of unease held him fast in its grip. He hoped Doc was available. Lorinda needed the man, and he'd make sure she had his help.

Major enjoyed a good run. Since the moon shone bright in the night sky, Franklin could let him have his head. While they thundered down the road, he whispered a quick prayer for Mrs. Oleson and Lorinda. But soon he ran out of the right words. He'd heard other men at church say that having a first child could be dangerous. Too many women died in childbirth. Thinking about the possibility of that happening to Lorinda punched him in the gut. He couldn't let that happen, no matter what he had to do to prevent it. The sooner he got the doctor and they returned to the ranch, the better.

Franklin made good time reaching the edge of Breckenridge. He expected the town to be quiet, except for the area where the saloons were located, but that wasn't the case. Hordes of people were out and about, scurrying here and there. All the conversations sounded ominous, even though he couldn't distinguish the words.

The windows on the parsonage were well-lit, but not at the doctor's house. Still he knocked on the door, trying to raise the medical man. After he waited a couple of minutes, he pounded even harder. No one came, so he headed toward the parsonage.

Just before his knuckles reached the door, it opened, and he almost rapped the pastor in the face. The man quickly raised his hand to catch Franklin's fist.

"Sorry, Pastor. I wasn't trying to slug you."

The man of God smiled. "I know. I didn't mean to startle you."

Both men chuckled.

"So what can–"

"So where were–"

After they spoke at the same time, Franklin stepped back. "Go ahead, Pastor." He hoped the man wouldn't be long-winded with his answer as he sometimes was on Sunday.

"I was asking what I could do for you." Reverend Nelson thrust his hands into the front pockets of his slacks. "But you were asking me a question as well."

"I've got to find Dr. Winston. No one answered the door at his house. We need him at the ranch right now." It took all Franklin's determination to keep himself from hurrying away. He would have if he'd had any idea where to find Doc.

"Mrs. Winston has gone to Denver to visit their daughter, and Doc is at Farncomb Hill. There's been a mine cave-in. They're digging out the men who were trapped. Some of them are pretty banged up. I was there earlier, but I came home for supper. I'm heading back over to see if I can help."

"I'll tag along. Mrs. Sullivan is in labor, and Mrs. Oleson sent me for the doctor. I sure hope he can go back with me." What would he do if Doc couldn't? God, please let him go.

"It's her first baby, isn't it? She hasn't brought a child to church with her, but she could have lost a child before." The minister swiftly headed toward the livery where he kept his horse stabled.

"Yes, it is. I'm sure she would have mentioned losing a child … at least to Mrs. Oleson." Franklin led Major as he walked beside the pastor. He didn't want to let on how worried he was about Lorinda. That could raise all kind of questions in Brian Nelson's mind, and he didn't need that right now. "How many men are trapped?"

"They've rescued most of them, but five were still inside when I left."

Brian saddled his horse, and they headed east from town. Once more the bright moon lit the way. They rode so fast conversation wasn't possible, which was fine with Franklin. His thoughts kept returning to the women at the ranch, and his stomach roiled. He wished he hadn't eaten such a large supper. The way he was feeling right now, some of it might erupt at any time.

When they wound around the last mountain, the area of the mine was lit up, and men scurried all over the place like ants on an anthill. As the two men reined in at the front of the main building, the area of the mine was well-lit with a multitude of candles in the building, and lanterns swung from poles and trees. Searchers also carried lanterns with them.

After tying their horses to the hitching rail, they entered the large room that looked like a makeshift hospital.

When they opened the door, Dr. Winston raised his head from hovering over a patient.

"How's it going, Doc?" Brian headed toward him. "Have they brought out any more men?"

"Not yet. But there's plenty for me to do here." Worry creased his brow as he glanced down at the man lying on the improvised bed on the floor, then walked over to meet them out of earshot of the injured men. "I'm not sure whether everyone here is going to make it."

"I'll go and start praying for them individually." The minister stepped away.

Dr. Winston turned eyes, bloodshot with fatigue, toward Franklin. "Did you come to help?"

"No. Mrs. Sullivan has gone into labor, and Mrs. Oleson sent me to bring you back to the ranch." He held his hat so tight, he crushed the brim.

The doctor dropped his head against his chest. Franklin waited, but the man didn't say anything for quite awhile. This made Franklin more anxious. What could he do if the doctor wouldn't come?

Finally the man raised his head. "I just can't leave these men right now."

Franklin knew the doctor needed to be here to try to keep as many men from dying as he could, but Lorinda needed him too. Despair fell over him like a smothering quilt.

"What do I tell Mrs. Oleson?" He couldn't keep his worry from shouting through his words.

"That I can't leave these men." His tone emphatic, the doctor put his hand on Franklin's shoulder. "And everyone around here is helping with the cave-in. Women have had babies since the world began, son. I'm sure Mrs. Oleson will do just fine helping Mrs. Sullivan. Maybe you can ask the pastor to pray for them while he's praying for the injured miners."

Before he left, he did talk to Pastor Nelson. Then he headed out to mount Major. He'd been gone from the ranch much longer than he'd thought he would be. He was sure Mrs. Oleson was wondering where he was.

As he headed toward the ranch, he decided to take the doctor's suggestion to heart. All the way, he prayed for the two women, and this time he didn't run out of words. He'd never prayed for any woman the way he did for Lorinda. The widow'd had enough sorrows in her life, so he prayed for her labor and for the birth to be easy. He prayed for the baby to be healthy, and he prayed for Mrs. Oleson to know exactly what to do. He reached the edge of his property before he realized where he was. He'd trusted Major to get him home safely.

He reined in at the front gate, then jumped down, tying the reins to the hitching rail outside the fence. Rusty came down the steps from the porch and met him by the gate.

"I stayed close, Boss, in case the women needed me."

"You're a good man." Franklin clapped him on the shoulder. "Everything go all right?"

"Think so. Haven't heard much from inside." The ranch hand glanced down the drive. "Is the doctor far behind you?"

"He's not coming. There was a mine cave-in, and he's busy with the injured." Franklin started up the walkway to the porch.

"I'll take care of Major for you. You won't have to worry about him."

"Thanks." Franklin hurried up the steps.

Just before he opened the door, he heard a mewling cry that quickly changed into a squall. He rushed inside and followed the sound toward the bedroom where the women were. He knocked on the door.

It opened, and Mrs. Oleson thrust the newborn, swaddled in a flannel blanket, into his arms. "It's a boy."

Then she firmly closed the door between them. He stared down at the tiny, red face with the infant's mouth wide open. The baby continued bawling like a newborn calf, his tiny tongue vibrating with the noise. What was he supposed to do now? He'd never held a newborn infant before. What if he did something wrong?

Trying to forget his nervousness, he pulled the baby close to his chest and started gently rocking his torso, the way he'd seen other new fathers do at church. He hummed a nameless tune, the kind he often crooned to settle down the cows for the night on cattle drives. Within a couple of minutes, the little scrap of humanity settled his head close to Franklin's heart. Soon it felt as if the infant's breathing matched Franklin's heartbeat, and some kind of unexplainable connection slammed into him almost taking his breath away.

He walked into the parlor, staring at the tiny child the whole time. He couldn't get enough of looking at the baby. He'd always thought newborn babies were ugly, but this little guy leaned toward cuteness. A fluff of blond hair surrounded his head, and his mouth sucked on his own fist, even though his eyes were closed.

Something deep inside Franklin wished this child were his. The child he would never have. Longings he'd suppressed held him in a firm grip. He imagined the tiny boy taking his first steps, growing and learning about manly things under his own tutelage. He could see riding the range with the young boy in the saddle in front of him.

This baby needed a father to teach him and love him. And holding him so close to his own heart, Franklin knew he could love this child. Maybe the strange connection he felt was the beginning of that love.

The baby stretched his neck and opened his eyes. Franklin had heard women say newborns couldn't see clearly, but this baby's eyes locked on his and drew Franklin into his heart as well. The connection was complete.

Why can't I be the boy's father? He didn't have to open his heart to the woman, just because he did to the child. Maybe this was the answer to his desire to have an heir. People got married all the time and had successful marriages with less than a child to keep them together. He could offer marriage to Lorinda. He would protect her, give her a home forever, and they could share this child. She wouldn't want anything deeper, because of loving and losing her husband. He didn't want anything else, because he couldn't allow his heart to be trampled again. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made to him.

Finally, a way he could have a son.