Ten Thousand Charms by Allison Pittman Page B

his wife and daughter together. Katherine had never been one to break into an easy smile, and he nearly lost his heart as he saw the effort it took.
    “We need to see if she will suckle,” Sadie said. “Katherine's too weak to hold her, so you will need to.”
    John William held his newborn daughter to her mother's breast, and the tiny girl latched on immediately, her instinct for survival manifested in the first hint of appetite. Her clear blue eyes searched her mother's face. Katherine returned the gaze, * and then both mother and daughter closed their eyes in contentment.
    “When she's finished,” Sadie said, shrugging into her shawl, “wrap her in that quilt you set over by the fire. Keep her warm.”
    She walked around the room, pinching out the candles and lowering the lamplight until the cabin was encased in comfortable shadows. All was silent except for Katherine's shallow breaths and the baby's hungry smacking.
    Just before walking out the door, Sadie scooped up a bloody bundle and stuffed it in her bag.
    “Keep praying,” she said, “if you think it helps.”
    “Thank you,” John William said, tearing his eyes away from his family to glance first at Sadie's face, then down to her hands.
    “If you need us, you know where we are.”
    He didn't see her leave, but he heard the latch of the cabin door fall into place.
    Heal my wife.
    His arm ached, trying to keep the baby attached without leaning on his wife's pain-wracked body
    Keep me strong.
    At some point the baby's mouth went slack, the sucking stopped. John William pulled her away, and a few drops of milk drooled out of perfect pink lips. Tiny snores came from the bundle of calico. Sadie had placed the warm quilt in the makeshift cradle, and he opened the folds of it and laid the child within, then carried the cradle and set it down on the floor just below Katherine's sleeping head. Kneeling by the side of his marriage bed, he took Katherine's hands in his and continued his simple fervent prayer.
    Heal my wife. Keep me strong.
    At some point, fatigue overtook him. He awoke to a mewling sound coming from the folds of the quilt. His head lay on Katherine's stilled breast, her hand dropped from his grasp.
    He spoke his last remaining prayer into the daylight that flooded his home. “Dear God, keep me strong.”

loria looked up sharply at the sound of the knock. No one ever visited her. No one who knocked, anyway She crossed the small room and pressed her ear against the wood.
    “Who is it?”
    The first response was a masculine rumble, muffled by the steady beat of the storm outside. Then Sadie's voice rang clear.
    “Open the door, Gloria.”
    Within seconds, the small room was full of people and rain. Sadie had braved the short distance between the main house and Gloria's room without donning any sort of cover, and her face and shoulders were dotted with raindrops.
    The man, however, looked as if he had waded through rivers to get here. His drenched hat was drawn low on his face, the collar of his coat tugged up to his chin, but Gloria recognized him immediately as the man she had met at the supply wagon. The man with the pregnant wife. MacGregan.
    Danny's basket was close by the small stove in the corner. Gloria lifted the basket, set it on her bed, and drew her only chair close to the stove.
    “Here,” she said. “Sit down.”
    “Let's take off that wet coat first,” Sadie said.
    She removed the drenched garment from his shoulders and hung it on the hook by the door. Sadie then led him to the chair and said, “Give her to me.”
    That's when Gloria noticed the bundle in the sling across his chest. It had the shape of a baby, but it was deathly still and quiet.
    Sadie held the child while MacGregan reached behind his head to pull the sling from his neck. Once relieved of his burden, he collapsed into the chair. Gloria stepped back, sat on the edge of her bed, and placed a grateful, protective hand on her sleeping child.
    “What have you brought