Carlisle and Esme remained in Madras for two more days. Perhaps it was the excitement of their visit that left Bella feeling exceptionally well. She was only nauseated once, and just for a few minutes after breakfast. Her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes shone with joy. We all felt ebullient in her presence, knowing that she carried a miracle within her.

I was calmer than I had been in some time. Carlisle's words assured me that my wife was in no danger from the baby. However, I knew that even a seemingly normal pregnancy could have complications, so a slight edge of anxiety remained with me.

Sensing my lingering concerns, Carlisle spoke with me while Esme and Bella were in the garden the last afternoon of their visit.

"Bella will soon enter her second trimester," he began kindly. "You know the chance of miscarriage drops significantly at that point. With each day that passes, her odds of carrying to term increase. Your senses are unparalleled. Just be aware of Bella's body. Don't disregard any changes you perceive. You know what is to be expected and what may signal possible difficulty… Keep your rationality, son. That is the best thing you can do to ensure her safety."

"I know," I replied. "She just seems so fragile to me."

He smiled sympathetically. "Humans are, compared to us. But Bella is actually quite robust. She really is in good health, Edward. My minor concerns about her weight are fading; she's gained a pound just since we arrived. She's doing well, and I honestly believe that she will continue to do so."

"But if she doesn't…" The possibility was almost too wrenching for me to consider, let alone articulate. "Carlisle, this is our only chance—my only chance to give her a normal life, at least for a little while. I'm certain that she could never conceive with me again."

"Probably not," he agreed.

We had discussed this at length and both concurred that the remnants of my physical humanity were most certainly expended by this point. My body could produce no new sperm cells; it would not be possible for me to impregnate my wife again.

"But it's important to maintain a positive outlook," Carlisle continued. "You know that stress is not good for Bella, so helping her to remain calm is crucial. You mustn't expect the worst, son; that will only make you anxious, and in turn leave her on edge."

I nodded. "I know. I'll try."

It was the best I could do. I hoped it would be enough.


The morning of Carlisle's and Esme's departure brought the beginning of summer weather. The dawn chill had dissipated, leaving Bella comfortable without a shawl as we stood waving from the porch as the motorcar drove away. The sun was bright, the flowers were in full bloom, and our moods were buoyant with the knowledge that our family was only a few hours away. My parents had promised to return within a few weeks, and we were already eager to see them again.

The next two weeks passed with surprising ease. Bella continued to feel well with infrequent nausea. She gained another two pounds, too, which pleased me tremendously. She remained tired in the evenings and stretched out on the bed in the office during lunchtime for a nap most days, but I knew that her body required more sleep now so was not concerned.

As she slumbered at night, I lay beside her, my hand often resting over her soft, warm belly. I loved hearing my child's fluttering heartbeat, and sometimes with intense concentration I could sense subtle movements beneath my hand. I looked forward to the day when Bella would be able to feel our child, too.

The warmer weather meant fewer illnesses, so we did not see as many patients as we had when stretches of damp, chilly days contributed to bronchitis and pneumonia. The handful of patients who sought my services had varied conditions, ranging from burns to fractures. I also treated a few deep lacerations, the result of farming accidents. Bella fared fairly well sitting beside me with the window open to encourage air circulation throughout the room.

I had asked Mrs. Withers to come in every other Monday so that I could check her regularly. She was our first scheduled patient on June 20. While she spent more time at home now, occasionally she visited the store or took a slow stroll. We had seen her several times in passing since the day she had hinted that she knew about Bella's condition. Her subtle smile and the flick of her eyes toward Bella's abdomen told us that her suspicions were even stronger now.

On the morning of her visit, Bella spent a moment studying the calendar. "Edward, it's the twelfth week now," she told me, her voice full of pleasure and excitement.

Of course I knew precisely how far along she was. If necessary, I could pinpoint it down to the hour… But I did not share this with my wife. I smiled and said, "Yes, it is."

"So that means we can begin sharing our news soon."

"I suppose so."

"Would it be all right if we told Mrs. Withers today? She already suspects… and at least this way she won't keep hinting. I'm sure she'll keep it to herself."

"If you'd like to tell her, darling, then yes, go ahead. I'd prefer that we wait another week or so before we tell the Webers and your mother, though."

She nodded. I could see how excited she was when Mrs. Withers entered the office. I escorted our favorite patient to the examination room and performed the usual assessment. She sat quietly, but her eyes moved to Bella often, a small smile playing at her lips.

When I had finished examining her, I stepped away to make a few notes in her chart. Bella helped her rearrange her clothing, as usual.

Mrs. Withers asked, "How are you doing, dear?"

"Very well, thank you," Bella replied. Her heart sped up a little.

"You're looking well. Your husband must be taking good care of you."

"He is. And now more than ever…" Bella paused, and I turned to watch the exchange. My beautiful wife blushed, and a little nervous giggle escaped her. "We're going to have a baby," she said very softly.

Mrs. Withers beamed at her. "Wonderful!" she exclaimed, and for a few moments a hint of color returned to her wan cheeks. She reached for Bella's hands, grasping them. "I imagine you'll welcome the little one sometime in January, then."

Bella, still blushing delightfully, said, "Yes."

Mrs. Withers laughed and winked at me. "Didn't I tell you you'd be holding your own baby by this February?"

"You did," I agreed, amusement burbling through me. "You were quite right, Mrs. Withers."

She gave a nod of amiable agreement. "I have a sense about these things. I knew you were with child, dear, when you returned from your honeymoon."

"You did?" Bella questioned, clearly surprised.

"Yes."

"Well, you were way ahead of us!" Bella replied with a grin. "But Mrs. Withers, we haven't told anyone else yet," she said with a slightly more serious tone. "We're going to wait a little while longer."

"Of course," she agreed. "I won't say a thing. But you be sure to ask me if you have any questions, honey." She gave me a significant look. "I know your husband is the best doctor in these parts, but he's never borne a child; he doesn't know how you're feeling. So you come to me if you have any worries."

I chuckled at the irony of her statement. "Thank you, Mrs. Withers," I said, giving her hand an affectionate squeeze. "We appreciate it."

"Don't suppose you'll need me for the birth," she said with a wry grin.

"Mrs. Withers," I replied, "I would be honored if you would assist me."

We both knew that within six months she would be bed-ridden at best. But we maintained a pleasant façade, nonetheless.

"Well," she replied, "we'll see about that." She touched Bella's abdomen lightly. "I do expect to cradle this little treasure in my arms, no matter what."

"We'll hold you to that," I said.

Bella's eyes filled with tears. She turned away for a moment to wipe them away as I helped Mrs. Withers from the examination table.

"I'm very happy for you," she said as I took her arm to support her as she walked out of the room.

"Thank you," Bella said quietly. "We'll see you soon."

I returned Mrs. Withers to her daughter-in-law's care then rejoined my wife. I embraced her tenderly; she remained emotional, suppressing a few small sniffles. I stroked her hair gently.

"I'm glad she knows," Bella said.

"Me too," I replied. And I truly was.


The following Saturday, we invited Angela and Ben to join us for supper. It was particularly poignant to watch Bella as she played with Rosemary. The absolute elation in her expression left me almost breathless. I knew she would be a wonderful mother, and I was indescribably happy that I could provide her with that opportunity.

We had decided that we would share our happy news after the meal. However, when Bella passed Rosemary to Angela so that she could put the final touches on the food, Angela smiled gently and said, "You're so good with her. I hope you and Edward will be blessed with a baby of your own soon."

I wondered if Angela suspected. Women seemed to have a special intuition about pregnancy… Bella gave me a significant glance, and I nodded in agreement. This was the perfect time to reveal our little secret.

"Actually," Bella began, her cheeks flooding with color, "we expect that to happen in about six months."

Angela grinned immediately, but Ben required about two seconds to catch on. He laughed heartily and clapped me on the back as our wives embraced.

"Congratulations!" he said.

I was so caught up in the moment that I let him clasp my hand. I felt an uncomfortable tightness in my stomach; he was quite hungry. There was an ache in my left shoulder, too, and a fairly deep one at that. I forced myself to smile and gently eased my hand from his.

"Thank you," I replied. I took a slow, deep breath to clear the discomfort from my mind.

Angela and Bella went off to the kitchen, talking excitedly. Ben gave me a nod, his grin fading slightly.

"You must be excited," he said.

"I am. I'm nervous, too, of course…"

"You'll be a great father, Edward," he assured me.

"I hope so. I'd certainly appreciate any advice you can offer."

"Oh, of course," he said, clearly pleased by my compliment.

Despite his smile, I could see a hint of tightness in his features; I suppose I had been too excited to notice it before. "How are you doing?" I asked.

"Me? I'm fine…"

"Did you hurt your shoulder?" I glanced at the joint. "You're moving your arm rather gingerly."

Surprised, he said, "I didn't think it was that obvious. I didn't want Ange to know."

I gestured for him to sit down. "What happened?"

"I pulled something while I was unpacking crates from the wagon yesterday."

"You should have come to see me," I chided mildly.

"I didn't think it was too bad…"

"But it's still bothering you," I finished.

"Yeah."

"Why don't you want Angela to know?" I inquired gently.

"She has enough to worry about with the baby and… other things."

My brows drew together. "What's going on, Ben? Is something wrong?"

We had not spent much time with our friends since our discovery that Bella was pregnant. Now that I thought back, however, I realized that Ben and Angela had both seemed a bit preoccupied recently.

He shook his head. "No… I don't know, really." He glanced toward the kitchen. We could hear our wives' animated voices. "I don't want to bother you with it, especially not now."

"Tell me," I urged. "I want to help if I can."

He cleared his throat, one hand moving to rub at his sore shoulder. "Ange and I want to have another baby—two or three more, really—and we've been trying since April, but so far…" He sighed and rubbed harder at his shoulder.

"It's only been a couple of months," I replied kindly. "It may take some time."

"But I don't know much more time we have," he said, a stricken expression crossing his face.

Slightly alarmed, I asked, "What do you mean, Ben?"

"My father…" He looked toward the kitchen again. "He died when he was thirty-six. I'm turning thirty next month, and I'm afraid I don't have that much time left. I want to be a good father, to give my children everything I can, while I can. But if it takes us another year or two to have a baby, I could only have a few years with it…"

"How did your father die?" I asked gently.

"His heart gave out. But for several years before, he had aches and pains in his joints, and I think I'm starting to get some of that, too. This shoulder thing—it hurts more than it should."

"Had he been ill prior to the heart attack?"

Ben nodded. "He'd had a bad rash and fever maybe a year before, I think… I was pretty young, but my mother's mentioned it a couple of times."

"I suspect he had rheumatic fever. I can speak with your mother if you like. I think she can confirm this. The disease can cause lingering infection and swelling in the large joints, as well as damage to the heart muscle. The illness isn't something you could inherit, Ben. I've never seen any indication that you have heart problems." This was true. I was always attuned to the physical conditions of our friends; Ben's coronary function was quite strong. "Have you had any other aches or pains?"

He shook his head. "Not really. Sometimes I'll get a crick in my neck after taking inventory…"

"I don't think that's anything to worry about."

"But my shoulder…" He rubbed at it again.

"Most likely you pulled a muscle. Sometimes we don't feel the strain until some time afterwards. Would you like me to take a look at it?"

Even as I made the offer, I realized I faced a small dilemma. Ben would surely find it odd if I called in Bella while I examined his shoulder. I did not believe that his pain was terribly significant, however; I would attempt to handle the situation on my own.

Ben gave me a grateful nod and began to unbutton his shirt. I asked him to move his arm in several ways, watching for indications of which muscles were affected. Then I took a deep, steady breath and placed my hand upon his shoulder. I examined him as quickly as I could, but my own shoulder was aching and my mind was prickling with mild discomfort by the time I had finished.

"It's just a muscle strain," I reported.

"You sure? You look upset, Edward."

"I'm sorry. I'm fighting a bit of a headache," I attempted to explain. "Really, you just need to rest it. Excuse me for a moment…"

I stood quickly and hurried toward the kitchen. I felt unsettled still and needed Bella's touch. She was standing at the stove, scooping mashed potatoes into a bowl.

"Is supper almost ready?" I asked as casually as I could manage.

She looked up at me, immediately seeing the strain in my face. "Edward?" she asked softly. "What…"

I shook my head and rested my hand against her cheek. She placed her hand over mine, seeming to understand what I needed. Instantly my mind was clear, the discomfort easing away.

"So," I asked, "supper?"

Our eyes met, and she saw that I was fine now, although she still wondered what had caused my minor distress. "Yes… Just give us another couple of minutes."

Angela was busy cutting some bread and missed most of our silent exchange.

"I'll let Ben know," I said, kissing Bella's cheek quickly before returning to the parlor.

"Sorry," I said. "I thought I had some pain medication I could give you, but it looks like I left it at the office. I can go back into town with you after supper and get it—"

"No, it's not that bad," he replied.

"Well, if you change your mind, just let me know. And stop by the office on Monday if you have a few minutes. I'll check and make sure your heart is all right."

He appeared relieved and agreed to come by first thing in the morning. The remainder of the evening was spent in happier discussions, but I resisted devoting more than brief conversation to Bella's pregnancy.

When our friends left, Bella and I cleaned up the kitchen then retreated to our bedroom. She was tired but content, craving physical closeness with me. I made love to my wife gently and reverently, and she fell asleep with a satisfied little smile upon her beautiful face.


To be continued...