Embrace the Day by Susan Wiggs Page B

booming voice and deep, rich laugh impossible to ignore. But she was quick to rally to her friend's defense.
    "Roarke, she hasn't had an easy time of it. She's never really had anyone in her life. How can you expect her to know what to do with a brute like yourself?"
    He laughed at her assessment of him, and his mood grew lighter. "Perhaps you're right, Gennie. Perhaps I've a few things to learn myself."
    "Sweet—merciful—God!" Prudence's scream pierced the stillness of the November night, bringing Genevieve to her feet. She'd been dozing after spending most of the day mopping Prudence's brow and soothing her as her labor progressed.
    But now, in the darkest hour of the night, there was no consoling the woman who suffered on the bed. Prudence's hand clamped convulsively around Genevieve's, the veins on it standing out with tension.
    "Please, Pru, try to relax," Genevieve said helplessly.
    Mrs. Weems, the midwife, was more matter-of-fact. "Every labor has its dark moment," she said, studying her patient with an experienced eye. "It passes quickly."
    But there was nothing quick about the birthing. A day and a half before, Prudence had taken to her bed with vague twinges in her back. Sharp pains had started soon after, but the baby seemed to be making no effort to join the world.
    Genevieve sat at the bedside and put her arms around Prudence, who moved her head from side to side in a delirium of pain.
    "Please, God, I want to die," she said through gritted teeth.
    "Pru, don't—"
    "Leave me alone!" Prudence said with sudden fierceness.
    Mrs. Weems shook her head at Genevieve's frantic look. "She don't know what she's sayin', Genevieve. Don't pay no mind to her rantings."
    By the time the pink light of dawn tinged the sky, Prudence no longer spoke. She merely shivered and gulped quick, uneven breaths of air and shook her head as if to deny what was happening to her.
    Even Mrs. Weems could no longer mask her concern. She lifted Prudence's wrist and felt her pulse.
    "She's weakening."
    Prudence's eyes flew open, and she let out an unearthly howl. Then she began to grunt through clenched teeth, eyes wide and unseeing.
    Mrs. Weems rushed to her and let out a whoop of gladness as she spied the top of the baby's head. "It's coming!"
    she called, clasping her hands to her chest. "God be thanked, it's coming."
    A baby boy slid into the midwife's hands.
    Genevieve froze, staring. And then tears began pouring down her cheeks. Never had she seen anything so utterly beautiful, so fine, so sweet. The baby was a healthy red color, and as Mrs. Weems daubed at his nose and mouth with a bit of linen, he coughed and let out a small, thin cry.
    "Fetch her husband," Mrs. Weems said, laying the baby beside Prudence as she began tying off the cord.
    Genevieve was out the door in an instant. "Roarke!" Her cry was a shout of gladness. "Roarke, where the devil—"
    He appeared in the hall, haggard and unshaven, lines of worry showing around his eyes.
    "It's the baby, Roarke," Genevieve called. Before she knew what she was doing, she leaped to him and felt the pressure of his arms wrapping about her. The embrace lasted only a moment, but it was enough for a familiar feeling of unease to begin creeping into Genevieve's heart. But today it was easy to push aside.
    "It's a boy, Roarke," she said. "You've a fine son. Come see."
    Taking his hand, she led him to the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness within. Then, hesitantly, he approached the bed.
    "Prudence?"
    At the sound of Roarke's voice she opened her eyes and smiled weakly. She moved the quilt aside to reveal a small ruddy face.
    "Isn't he beautiful?" she whispered. "Such a fine little lad…" Her voice trailed off, and she closed her eyes again.
    Roarke was fascinated by the baby, and more fearful than he'd ever been in his life. How could anything be so small? So perfect?
    Genevieve pushed him forward, holding a candle so he could see. Roarke knelt beside the