Riverbreeze: Part 3 by Ellen E. Johnson

said, quickly taking a cloth and rubbing the baby all over. It was only after the baby had been stimulated that he started to cry and wave his little fists.
    Evelyn realized she was crying as well. It was the most terrifying and wonderful thing she had ever seen. It was a miracle and she felt ever so grateful that she had been a part of it.
    George had tears in his eyes and he kissed his wife over and over. “A boy, darling.” He said. “A strong boy. Listen to him.” He was beaming.
    “Give him to me.” Hetta said, reaching her hands forward. She was panting, relief and exhaustion on her face.
    Abigail placed the baby on Hetta’s stomach and Hetta gently stroked the wet tufts of brown hair.
    “All right, one more push, Hetta, and then we’ll be done.”
    A final contraction and the afterbirth slid out. Abigail efficiently tied the cord and cut it with the clean scissors. Thankfully there was no excessive bleeding.
    She then took the baby for just a minute and wrapped him in a clean linen towel. From that moment on the baby didn’t leave Hetta’s arms.
    Evelyn, Abigail and Jamie stayed the rest of the day and overnight. Jamie finally came back into the house, bringing a basket of eggs in with him. He told George he had taken care of the goats in the barn and the chickens were secured in their coop. The storm passed and Evelyn and Abigail took care of cleaning up after Hetta and settling her with a mug of pea broth. The rest of the afternoon was spent restoring the bed to a clean state, disposing of the soiled linens and cooking dinner for everyone. At the table, George gave thanks for his new son, good friends and Abigail’s expertise.
    After the meal he proudly entered the information into the Turner family Bible under the other two little lost female children, a boy born the day of the full moon, December 1, 1643. 2:30 in the afternoon. His name: George James Turner Jr., healthy and whole.
    That night as Evelyn settled down next to her husband on a pallet on the floor close to the fireplace, she thought of the amount of effort and pain it took to bring a new baby into the world. But after seeing the joyous looks on Hetta’s and George’s faces, she determined that it was all worth it. And she couldn’t wait for the day when she would give her husband a child of their own.
    Sleep didn’t come too easily even after the exhaustive day. There were periods of time when the baby slept soundly, usually after Hetta had fed, cleaned, and swaddled him, but otherwise he was up crying every two hours. Hetta was an attentive mother though. She was not going to let this child die. She listened carefully when Abigail gently instructed her in the proper care of infants: bathing in warm water was essential to good health, keeping his hands and mouth and nose free of dirt and paying particular attention to his privy parts which Hetta was a little nervous about. It was all good information to know, Evelyn thought, and tucked the information away for when it was her turn to have her own son.
    She smiled to herself then. She remembered the first time she had seen a little boy in the flesh. She hadn’t been nervous like Hetta had been, but then she hadn’t had to touch the boy and clean his delicate little penis.
    Just as she was on the verge of sleep and imagining what Jamie had looked like as a little boy, a feeling came over her. Tension. Tingling. Breathlessness. It was a familiar feeling and immediately she knew what Elizabeth and Robert were doing.
    “What’s wrong?” Jamie whispered in her ear. He had felt the stiffening of her body.
    “Nothing is wrong.” She whispered back, smiling languidly as the intensity of tension released and her whole body relaxed.
    “That rascal!” Jamie hissed good-naturedly. “They’re probably doing it in our bed!”
    Evelyn chuckled. “Why would you believe that?”
    “A change of scenery. To get away from Robin. I know him!”
    Evelyn smoothed her hand over Jamie’s temple and