“Have you done it before?”
“On ewes.”
Gemma blinked, uncertain she heard him correctly. “I don’t know if this is the same thing.”
“I’m hoping it is. Birth is birth and I learned what I’m about to do from an old shepherd. It worked.”
It had to work. Gemma knew he had no choice—except, deep emotions threatened to take over. Life was so fragile.
He noticed. “Are you all right?”
“I’m not as strong as you believe I am.” She couldn’t speak above a whisper. “I lost a baby.”
“Gemma, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” His arms came around her and she leaned into him. Almost two years ago she’d been so alone . . . and she’d longed for this empathy. “I shouldn’t have asked you here.”
There was another contraction. Another gasping groan. Oh, yes, Gemma knew what Kate Balfour was going through. Gemma could almost feel the way pain racked through her body.
“Was your baby stillborn?” he asked gently.
“No, she was born. She was perfect. She died a few days after. I put her in the crib and when I checked on her not even an hour later, she was gone.” She couldn’t take her eyes off Kate Balfour. She might not have the opportunity to hold her baby. “What do you want me to do?”
He let out his breath as if in relief. “Be there for her. She is the one who told me women tell each other what they won’t say to men. I want you to talk to her. Guide her.”
How could she refuse him? “Has there been movement?”
“A little.”
“Then we’d best start.”
His arms tightened momentarily around her. “Right.” He spoke to the maids. “Ladies, I need to ask you to leave.”
The maid beside Mrs. Balfour shook her head. “We need to be here for the mistress. We must.”
“And you have been excellent,” Ned assured them. “The time has come for Gemma to spell you.”
The maids exchanged looks.
Then Mrs. Balfour helped. “Go on.” Her voice was faint.
The maids bowed and left.
After the door closed behind them, Mrs. Balfour said, “So you are Gemma.”
Gemma crossed to the side of the bed. “I am.” The woman didn’t have much energy left.
“I’ve heard . . . much about you—” A contraction robbed her of words. Gemma took her hand. She dared to sit on the bed so that she was closer to the patient.
Gemma said, “When I went through this, I was told to breathe deep.” Mrs. Balfour squeezed her hand, a sign of the pain she was in. “And to be brave,” Gemma offered.
A tear escaped Mrs. Balfour’s eye. “I’m not very brave right now. I want this over. I want this over.”
Any lingering reservations Gemma had evaporated. Kate was a woman in need. Gemma untied the strings of her cape, letting it slip off her shoulders. “It will be over soon.”
“I don’t think it will end,” was the tortured response.
“It will,” Gemma assured her. “And I’m going to tell you a secret that helped me when I gave birth—you don’t go through childbirth often in life. At least, that is true of most of us. Yes, it is painful but the reward is worth it, especially if you embrace this process. Don’t fight it.”
“Something is wrong, isn’t it? There is something wrong. I was afraid this would happen.”
“Shush now. You must help your baby. You need to relax if it is possible.”
“Relax?” Mrs. Balfour sounded as if she would have boxed Gemma’s ears for the suggestion. Except she was too weak.
Soothing her voice, Gemma said, “Work with us.”
Mrs. Balfour stared at the ceiling. “Dear God.” Whether she was entreating the Almighty, or begging Gemma to be quiet, she did not say.
Ned now came to the bed. He had greased his hands.
At that moment Mrs. Balfour cried out, this one stronger than any before. It was practically a shriek.
The door flew open. Her husband came charging in. He stopped, stood as if uncertain, and then shut the door. “I won’t leave. I don’t know what is happening, but I’m not leaving Kate.”
His wife started to speak but was robbed of words by another contraction. They were coming hard now.
Gemma said close to her ear, “Breathe deep. We are all here.”
Kate looked at her as if she wished they were all someplace else.
Gemma took that as a good sign.
Mr. Balfour pleaded his case to Ned. “I’m not leaving. I lived in India. Things are not as distant there as they are here. I’ve seen childbirth.”
“Could I make you leave?”
“No.”
“Then stay,” Ned answered. “But do not interfere. Do you understand? You will not interfere.”
“I won’t interfere.” He came around the other side of his wife’s bed.
“What is happening?” Mrs. Balfour asked. She sounded almost desperate.
“Mr. Thurlowe is going to help your baby be born,” Gemma responded carefully. He was already folding up the sheet covering Kate’s legs.
Mrs. Balfour was no fool. Her brows came together. “Is something wrong? Something is wrong, isn’t it?” Gemma didn’t know if she should answer. Mrs. Balfour grabbed her husband’s hand. She used it as leverage to try to rise.
“Kate, relax.” Ned spoke with authority.
His patient stopped struggling.
“Your baby wants to come out and he can’t. I believe the cord is wrapped around him and I’m going to reach in and see if I can feel exactly where the problem is. If I can, I hope to free him from the cord.”
“You can do that?” she asked.
“Of course,” Ned answered as if she’d asked him to walk across the room.
Gemma leaned close to Kate. “Look at me,” she ordered.
Kate obeyed.
“It will all be fine. It will.”
Kate nodded mutely, and then flinched as Ned checked on the baby. He spoke as he did so. “I can feel him. He is a good size. Feeling for the cord now.” Tense moments passed—
Abruptly, Ned jumped up on the bed, boots and all. “Back off, both of you.”
To Mr. Balfour’s credit, he did as ordered, in fact, quicker than Gemma, who was confused. To her shock, Ned picked up Kate’s heels and lifted them. “Balfour, help me.”
“Help you what?”
“We are going to shake her upside down.”
“What?”
But Ned was not in an explaining mood. He’d already had Kate up in the air. While Mr. Balfour stared dumbstruck, Gemma rose on the mattress to help. She had no idea what Ned was doing, but she trusted him.
Yes, trust. She believed in him as she had no other. She helped him give Kate several hard shakes. Kate was like a rag, doing whatever they wished.
“Let her down,” Ned said, and then he reached in. “Yes. That is what it took.”
“What?” Mr. Balfour asked again.
“The movement loosened the cord.” Ned freed his hand. “I managed to lift it off.”
“Lift it off his neck?” Mr. Balfour repeated.
“Kate, push,” was Ned’s answer.