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. “Iwon’tleave. 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 willnotinterfere.”
“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.”
