“Already?” Judy’s voice hitched in a mix of excitement and worry. “But I thought—”
“No time for thoughts, dear,” Cassie cut in, more sharply than intended. She softened her tone, “Please, hurry.”
Judy nodded, her youthful face set with determination. She dashed out, hiking her skirts up almost to her knees as she ran for the midwife.
Left alone, Cassie sank into a chair, her fingers knitting together over her swelling belly. The room seemed suddenly too quiet, too still. Cassie tried to chase away the nagging doubts that clouded the fringes of her mind. Would she really be able to love this child? Could she be the mother it deserved?
She whispered to the emptiness, “Oh, what if I’m the worst mother who has ever lived?”
There was no reply, just the distant sound of Judy’s footsteps fading away. Cassie closed her eyes, taking deep, measured breaths, willing her fears to dissipate with each exhale. But they clung stubbornly, heavy as the summer heat.
“Come on, Cassandra Forsythe,” she murmured to herself. “You’ve tackled tougher things than this.”
Yet, the reassuring words felt hollow. She could sew a fine seam, whip up a meal that’d make your mouth water, but none of that seemed to matter now. This was different. This was a tiny life that would depend on her for everything.
As another contraction began its slow, building pressure, Cassie leaned back, envisioning the faces of her sisters, their smiles and assurances. They believed in her—maybe, just maybe, it was time she started believing in herself too.
“Love and companionship,” she breathed out. That’s what Deborah had said. With her sisters’ support and a community that felt like an extended family, perhaps she could find her way. And maybe, just maybe, the love she was so afraid wouldn’t come would arrive with the first cry of her newborn baby.
