“If you know that much about me, then you know what happened, why I can’t do this,” Tom said.
“You are concerned, Dr. Whitman, because you lost your wife, Martha, and the child. But I say this to you. Have no fear, for you will do this thing, and it will be good.”
“No, I will not,” Tom said. “I cannot.”
“Tom, if you really are a doctor, you can’t just turn your back on Maria when she needs you so,” Rebecca said.
“You don’t understand, Rebecca. I’m not a doctor anymore,” Tom said. “Not since I killed my wife and child.”
“Tom, please, I beg of you,” Clay said. “If you can do something, you must help her!”
“Didn’t you hear what I said, Clay? I can’t do it! This requires a Caesarian, and I killed my wife and child trying to do a Caesarian. That is a very difficult and invasive operation that fails eighty-five percent of the time. And that is under the very best of conditions. If I were to try such a procedure here, in a barn, in unsterile conditions, and without the proper equipment, it would be little more than murder!”
“Try, Doctor, please try! For God’s sake, you must help her!” Clay begged.
“Yes, Doctor,” Balthazar says. “For God’s sake, you must help her.”
“I will assist you, Doctor,” Rebecca said.
Tom put his hands to his temples and pressed hard, as if by so doing he could make all this go away.
“Tom, you can do it,” Rebecca said. She put her fingers on his cheek. “I know you can do it.”
Tom lowered his hands and looked at Maria, who was now in great pain. The look on his face evolved through several expressions, from anger at being put in this position, to fear, to remorse, to resignation, and finally, to determination. And once his face showed his determination, he was overtaken by a calm demeanor. As of now, he was obviously in charge.
“I will need a knife,” Tom said. “A sharp knife.”
“Smoke, you have a knife,” Sally said.
“It’s a Bowie knife,” Smoke said. “Hardly what you would call a surgical. instrument.”
“I’ve seen you skin many an animal with that knife,” Sally said. “You keep it as sharp as a razor.”
Smoke pulled the knife and showed it to Tom. “Will this do, Doctor?” he asked.
“It will have to do,” he said. “Take the blade over there and hold it in the fire for about a minute. I’m going to have to sew the wound closed afterward. Clay, do you still have that saddle needle you have for sewing up leather?”
“Yes, but the only thing I have for lacing are rawhide strips.”
“The last time I was in town, I picked up some spare guitar strings for Dusty and I never got around to giving them to him. They are gut strings and that will work perfectly. Rebecca, look in my saddle bags. The ‘E’ string should work. That’s the smallest string.”
“All right.”
“Oh, and you will also find half a bottle of Scotch there. Bring it as well. I’ll need an antiseptic,” Tom added. He pulled his pistol, emptied all the cartridges, then handed it to Smoke. “Smoke, put the barrel in the fire, the barrel only. Leave the handle out so you can pick it up when I need it. I will need the barrel to be very hot.”
“All right,” Smoke said.
“Also, I’ll need some hot water,” Tom said. We can use snow, but I don’t know what to put it in.”
“I have a bucket,” one of the shepherds said.
“Good, that will work. Fill the bucket with clean snow and start heating water.”
“I’ll need some rags for cleaning, and something to wrap the baby in when it is born.”
“A saddle blanket?” Tom asked.
“Yes, but that won’t do for cleaning up the baby. And we’ll need some kind of cloth between the baby’s skin and the blanket.”
“How about petticoats?” Rebecca suggested. “All three of us are wearing petticoats.”
“I won’t need Maria’s. But I will need both of yours.”
Nodding, Rebecca and Sally got up, walked into the next stall where, with their action concealed by the wall of the stall, they removed their petticoats and brought them back.
“Rip them up into several strips,” Tom suggested, and the two women did so.
A moment later, Tom had everything he needed, and was ready to begin, and he stood there for a moment, looking at Maria, his face glowing gold in the warming fire. As Rebecca stared at him, she did not see hesitancy, fear, nor doubt. She saw a quiet summoning of resolve.
“Maria, I don’t have anything for an anesthetic. I’m sorry, this is going to be very painful. But it has to be done.”
“It can’t be more painful than it is now,” Maria replied through clenched teeth.
“I can help,” Balthazar said.
“How can you help?” Tom asked.
“I can help,” Balthazar said again, without further explanation. He put his hand on Maria’s stomach, and closed his eyes for a moment. His lips moved as if he was speaking, but he wasn’t speaking aloud. The others looked at Balthazar in confused curiosity.
“What are you doing?” Tom asked.
“Go ahead, Doctor,” Balthazar said. “She does not feel pain now.”
“He is right,” Maria said. “The pain has stopped.”
Tom picked up the knife, then positioned it just over where he was going to make the incision. He held it there for a moment, then he pulled the knife up and looked at Rebecca.
“I can’t,” he said. “I can’t do this. I can’t kill Martha all over again.”
Rebecca put her hand on Tom’s hand. “You can do it, Tom. I know you can,” she said. “I don’t have the slightest doubt.”
“Clay,” Tom said. “You do understand the risk, do you not? You are putting a lot of trust in me, and I’m not sure I warrant that trust.”
“Tom, in the short time I’ve known you, I’ve never known anyone that I trusted more,” Clay said. Clay crossed himself and said a quick, silent prayer. The others waited, each of them saying their own prayers.
Tom nodded, then, using Smoke’s knife, made the cut. Immediately, blood began to ooze out of the cut.
“Rebecca, pour some whiskey on the wound, and wipe away some of the blood,” Tom said. “Smoke, hand me my pistol.”
Rebecca did as instructed, and taking the pistol from Smoke, Tom used the hot barrel to cauterize the blood vessels and stop the bleeding. Then he continued with the cut, carving through the fat and muscle, and making an incision in the uterus.
All the while he was operating, Tom continued to look up at Maria’s eyes for any sign of shock, such as a dazed or disoriented look. Amazingly, her eyes were clear and her demeanor calm.
Then, with everything opened up, he reached in to pull the baby out. It was a boy, and, cutting the umbilical cord, he slapped it on the backside.
The baby began to cry.
A broad smile spread across Tom’s face. “Welcome to Texas, little fella,” he said. He handed the baby to Rebecca.
“If the water is warm enough, clean the baby, but hold back some of the cloth to put between the baby’s skin and the saddle blanket.”
“All right,” Rebecca said.
“I’ve got the swaddling cloth ready,” Sally said.
Tom tied off the umbilical cord then he began sewing up the cuts: first the uterus, then the muscle tissue, and finally the skin. When he was finished, he looked up and saw Rebecca putting the baby, now clean and wrapped in the blanket, in Maria’s arms. And while she should be in great pain and near shock, she was anything but. He saw on her face the most angelic smile he had ever seen.
“You did it, Doctor. I knew you could,” Clay said.
“I’m still Tom,” Tom said. He looked at Maria. “Maria, are you not in any discomfort?”
“No, Doctor,” Maria answered in a calm and strong voice.
“Did you feel no pain during all that?”