“It’s not that,” Patricia said. “Though I don’t know what our folks—or us—would have done without your help. It’s just that I can’t imagine you on your own in that big city, raising a child in a little box of a place. And who’ll look after your little one while you’re away on sets in Italy or New Mexico?”
“I’ll find someone I can trust. Or I’ll take the baby with me.” In truth, Ruby was worried about this.
“You could stay here,” Patricia said. “I talked to Michael, and he says it’s okay.” Her face bloomed with a smile. “We’d love to have a little one around.”
Ruby glanced at the stack of pages she’d been writing. “I know you mean well, but I’d feel like a bird with my wings clipped.” She’d die a slow death under her father’s constant disapproval. “Besides, what could I do here? You and Michael are having a tough time, too.” She’d heard them discussing their family budget one night.
“There’s the diner on the highway,” Patricia said.
“I won’t doom my child to that kind of life,” Ruby said. “Or us. Would you want to see our mother working at that diner?” As soon as Ruby spoke, she regretted it, but it was true. They’d had a hardscrabble upbringing, and it wasn’t getting any better.
Patricia bowed her head. “I pray it won’t ever come to that.”
“It’s going to take more than prayers,” Ruby said, a little more harshly than she’d intended. “My agent has a part lined up for me as soon as I return. I have to continue acting now more than ever. For my child, for our parents. Besides, my chance at Hollywood won’t come around again.” Joseph’s warning still rang in her ears.
Patricia raised her eyes to Ruby. “You could leave your baby with us while you work. You know that no one would ever love that child as I would. You’d never have to worry about trusting a stranger. In between films, you would always have a home here.”
“But I can’t leave my child,” Ruby said, shocked at Patricia’s suggestion.
“Don’t you want the best for it?” Patricia asked. “Maybe we weren’t rich when we were kids, but we rode horses through wildflowers, cooled off in the swimming hole, and learned to grow the best tomatoes in the county fair. Could your child do that in Hollywood?”
Ruby felt a nudge in her belly and smoothed her hand over it. “This little life is all I have left of Niccolò.”
“We’re not taking your baby away from you.”
Ruby recalled growing up in the country. At seven years her senior, Patricia had raised her in many ways. Patient beyond her years, Patricia had taught Ruby how to ride horses and coax vegetables from the soil. Their parents were always busy, working hard to scratch out a living and provide a home for them, even though Ruby and Patricia had their chores, too.
If Ruby had to leave her baby with anyone—and she would have to when she worked—it would comfort her to know that Patricia’s loving arms would wrap her baby with all the genuine love and gentle care a child could want.
Patricia touched her hand. “We also have all the baby clothes and everything you’ll need.”
Ruby knew her sister had been preparing to care for children for years. With her neat stitching, Patricia had sewn and embroidered the most beautiful baby clothes—stacks and stacks of them—for the babies that she was sure would arrive. She had put forth so much trust and so many prayers that she’d be blessed with children. It was as if each tiny outfit was an act of faith, proof of the fine mother she could be if only she were given a chance.
A nursery was ready and waiting, and Patricia dusted it weekly. The wooden crib and dresser that Michael had painstakingly crafted were polished to a soft satin sheen.
Ruby leaned her head against the handmade, goose down pillows. Her child could grow and run free here, and Ruby could visit and stay as long as she wanted. She would always be her child’s mother.
Patricia slid her arm around Ruby. “Will you think about it?”
“I will,” Ruby replied.
In her heart, Ruby knew that what Patricia was proposing made sense. Ruby had to work, but being on her own in a big city with an infant would be difficult. Aunt Vivienne wouldn’t be of much help—her mercurial personality didn’t include maternal longings. But Patricia and Michael were responsible and kind; she’d never heard a foul word between them. And how happy a little one would make them; this big house needed a child’s laughter.
Ruby could provide such a gift—a gift beyond value—to her sister. She rested her head on Patricia’s shoulder. As Ruby thought about her dilemma, it seemed selfish not to share her good fortune of having a child with her sister. Were their roles reversed, Patricia wouldn’t hesitate. With her generous nature, it wouldn’t occur to her to be any other way. Ruby could play the part of a soft-spoken lady, but Patricia was the genuine article.
Yet, Ruby’s arms ached to hold her baby. She hoped the child would have Niccolò’s bright blue eyes and dark hair. She longed to see his beautiful features reflected in her baby’s face. If he had to leave her alone in this life, instead of the one they’d once planned together, at least he’d given her a child that she could shower with love. To be separated from her child would be excruciating, but Ruby had few choices.
Niccolò would want the best for his child, too. Recalling the importance of family to him, she thought that he would agree.
Still, this wasn’t a decision Ruby wanted to make.
* * *
In the thin light of dawn, Ruby woke from a fevered sleep and instantly knew that something was wrong. Her back had started aching yesterday, and she’d hardly slept. Now, her pillow was damp with perspiration, but more than that, she felt a downward pressure that scared her.
She tried to raise herself on the bed, but a pain shot through her. No, no, no, she thought. Calculating quickly, she realized it had been six weeks since Doc Schmidt’s visit.
“Patricia, help!” She shifted and called out for her sister again.
Moments later, Patricia rushed in. “What’s wrong?”
“I think it’s the baby,” Ruby said, panting against the growing pain. “I need Doc right away.”
As Patricia hurried out, Ruby let out a long moan. With Niccolò’s name on her lips, she gripped the sheet in her fist through searing pain.
Drifting through waves of agony that crested and barely subsided, Ruby didn’t know how much time had passed before Doc arrived, but one thing was certain. It was too late to take Ruby to the nearest hospital, which was more than two hours away.
Her mother and Patricia worked to assist Doc, and Ruby could tell from their frowns and whispered prayers that something was dreadfully wrong.
“The baby is coming now,” Doc said, rolling his sleeves up and issuing orders.
Patricia hurried in with a stack of towels, while Michael brought in hot water.
Doc leaned over her, and Ruby could see perspiration beading on his forehead. “Stay strong, Miss Ruby, and follow my instructions.”
Ruby glanced at her mother, who nodded in agreement. Mercy’s stoic expression struck terror in Ruby’s heart. Gritting her teeth, she forced aside the feeling and clung to the image of Niccolò in her mind. She wrapped herself in the love they had shared.