February gave way to March with no sign of spring. Winter held fast, the snow piled high and the deep cold stubbornly pressed into the cabin, only adding to Ruby's discomfort. With everyday tasks made more and more difficult, Ruby prayed that each new day would bring the arrival of her son—and every night, she would go to bed disappointed, her spirits and body tired from the wait.
One night, a sharp pain woke her suddenly. She held her breath, waiting for a second sign which came a moment later. She took a deep breath before she sat up as quickly as she could, her blood beating fast in her veins in both excitement and apprehension.
She ignored the chill in the cabin as she fumbled her way to the bedroom door and plodded to the corner of the house where Archie slept, her path dimly lit by the faint moonlight coming in through the windows. She hadn't even bothered to grab her shawl or light a candle, but she took no notice of the dark or the cold.
"Archie," she hissed, pulling back the curtain to his room in a brazen gesture that she would not have dared under normal circumstances. Her hands clutched at her stomach as she tried to wake him. "Archie!"
The man stirred on his cot, slowly waking from his peaceful sleep. His eyes fluttered open and his brow creased in confusion, and Ruby wondered if she'd ever seen him without his glasses before.
"Archie, I think it's time."
One last look of bewilderment crossed his face before realization dawned and he sprang up in his bed. He fumbled for his glasses on the windowsill before jumping up, his eyes searching Ruby's in the dim light. "It's time?" he repeated.
Ruby nodded, her chest pounding. "I think so," she said in a small voice.
She thought she saw a flash of a smile cross Archie's expression and he squeezed her hands before taking charge. "You must be freezing," he exclaimed, guiding her to the main room and instructing her to sit down.
He immediately lit the hearth, and then the stove, and Ruby marvelled at the focus in his actions. "When did the pains start?" he asked, his back to her as he crouched at the stove.
"I—I don't know. I just woke up, and there was a pang in my middle. Or maybe in my back."
"Did your… did your waters break?"
"Um—no," Ruby admitted, trying to recall what Mary Margaret had told her. She was still a bit foggy from sleep, despite the adrenaline rushing through her, and yet Archie seemed wide awake.
"Okay," Archie said slowly, his features now lit by the flickering light of the fireplace that grew brighter and brighter. Ruby was grateful for the warmth as she began to realize how cold the cabin was in the middle of the night.
Archie disappeared into her bedroom and returned with her shawl, and she eagerly wrapped it around her shoulders.
He stood in front of her, dressed only in his nightshirt and stockings, his hair sticking up at odd angles and pressed down on one side. He looked around the room, as if deciding on his next task, before he brought a chair around the table and sat down next to her.
"Have you had any more pains?" he asked, leaning towards her with his forearms on his knees. "Are they close together?"
Ruby chewed on her lip. "Um, not really—there's an ache in my stomach, but there hasn't been another pain," she explained.
Archie sat back in his chair, and Ruby's mind raced to figure out his thoughts.
"Okay," he said slowly with a nod. "It sounds like there's nothing much to do yet," he told her quickly when she furrowed her brow. "The baby won't be here for a little while. Your pains need to be closer together, and your water will likely break—as if you'd, uh, relieved yourself."
Ruby nodded as if she knew exactly what she should expect. "You don't think—you don't think we should get Mary Margaret?" she asked quietly, hugging her shawl close.
"I think it's too soon," Archie replied. "It could be awhile yet before anything happens, and there's no need to drag her out of bed at this stage."
Ruby nodded with a pang of disappointment. She would feel better to have Mary Margaret with her, and the thought of even more waiting was more than she could bare. Still, she was glad to have Archie with her. He seemed to know about these things, and Ruby reminded herself that he must have learned when August was born.
The thought brought back questions about what Archie's life had been like—what his wife was like, and their life together, and how she had died—and she wondered how much she could ask. Before she could bring herself to form any words, Archie stood up, clad in his nightshirt, and grabbed a pot. He took it to the front door and, opening the door, he scooped up the clean snow, shutting the door as quickly as he could.
Ruby shivered, more from seeing him in such a state of undress and being exposed to the harsh winter outside than from being cold herself. She smiled as she watched him boil the water and prepare the tea in the tea pot, deliberate in his movements. His steady presence was familiar, reassuring, and yet, for all the time they'd spent together, she couldn't bring herself to ask about his past life.
Perhaps there was a small part of her that didn't want to imagine him and August having a life without her.
Ruby dismissed the foolish notion. They sat in silence together, nursing their mugs of tea as they sat by the fire, waiting for signs of the impending delivery. Archie didn't say a word, but would at times raise his brows to her, and she would shake her head. No, nothing more. Her stomach sank.
As morning broke, with the soft light spilling across the floorboards, Ruby realized that the baby was not on its way quite yet. She apologized to Archie, who was far too generous to a woman who had woken him in the middle of the night in a panic.
There was no time to dwell on embarrassment, however, with the tasks of another day already making their demands. With more yawns than normal, Ruby and Archie continued in their routines, starting with breakfast, where neither mentioned anything to August.
The waiting dragged on for Ruby, and even her chores did little to alleviate her restlessness—though, perhaps, that was also due to her being unable to perform many of her tasks and having already finished her preparations for the child. Her pile of clothes and blankets was more than complete, and the cradle that Archie had made her was already placed beside her bed, eagerly awaiting its occupant's arrival.
She would not let her eagerness fool her again, however. Archie had told her that it was normal to have pains that did not actually indicate labour, and so she would be sure next time—for her own hopes just as much as to spare him another scare.
On a snowy day at the end of the first week of March, Ruby felt more aches in her back than normal. She brushed them aside, not wanting to get excited over nothing, and continued on with the week's baking as August worked away at his sums at the table. She was glad that Archie was preoccupied out in the barn. However well-intentioned, she could feel his watch over her. He did insist he needn't go into town, which Ruby knew was because he didn't dare risk being away should her time suddenly arise, but at least he'd agreed that there was no harm in being just a stone's throw away.
The pain in her back gradually increased throughout the day, growing sharper as it moved towards her front. She stubbornly pushed through the pain, refusing to consider what was happening until she was absolutely sure.
As she sat churning the butter with more force than was necessary—with a pause now and then to breathe through the cramping in her stomach—a sudden gush came from between her legs.
Ruby froze, fear and delight bubbling in her chest. "August…"
August didn't say anything, and she looked up at him from across the room. "August, I need you to do something for me right now."
"Hmm?" he said, finally glancing up from his book.
"August I need you to go get your father from the barn. Now."
He stood up slowly, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Is everything okay?"
Ruby took a deep breath. "Yes. Just do as I say, please. And hurry."
Fortunately, August nodded firmly and scrambled to the front door, pausing just long enough to shove on his boots and coat. Under any other circumstances, Ruby would have made the nine-year-old stop to lace up his boots and fasten his coat properly, along with ensuring he had his mittens and scarf and hat on.
Another wave of pain washed over her, and Ruby gripped the stick of the butter churn. It soon passed, and she stood up, her whole body buzzing with an energy, a restlessness with the knowledge of what was to come. She began to pace around the cabin, walking around the room with her hands on her back with a pause to clutch the table when another pain would come.
It wasn't long before Archie burst in through the door, followed closely behind by August.
"Is it time?" he asked, rushing towards her without taking off his boots or coat or hat.
"I—I'm not positive, but I think so," Ruby said, almost bouncing in place. "There was a bit of pain that started this morning, but I thought it was just the normal sort," she explained, unable to stand still. "It started in my back, but it's getting stronger, and… my waters broke just a few minutes ago," she added, her gaze finally resting on Archie's with a look that begged him to confirm what she hoped.
"August, can you get some water boiling on the stove," Archie said firmly, his eyes fixed on Ruby's. His expression was serious, but Ruby thought she caught a glimmer of a smile in his eyes.
"How are you feeling?" he asked her, taking a step towards her. "Do you—do you want to keep walking, or are you ready to get into bed?"
"I—I—" Ruby began before she doubled over, the pain of another contraction hitting her with full force.
She felt Archie's hand on her back and his grip on her elbow, and she let him lead her to her bed. He shrugged off his winter layers and threw them by the wall haphazardly, his attention on Ruby.
"Let's get you out of your dress," he said, his tone soothing.
"No!" Ruby replied, sitting up. "No, you need to go get Mary Margaret. She's supposed to be here."
Ruby froze at the pained look Archie gave her in reply. "Ruby, I'm sorry, but there's no time—your contractions are close together, and your water already broke. Besides, the snow is too deep—I can't get to the Nolans' and back in time."
"No, no, no, no, no, that was not the plan," Ruby shook her head vehemently. "Mary Margaret was going to deliver the baby. She is going to be here. She has to be!" Panic seized Ruby and her eyes widened, as if she could plead with Archie enough to change the reality before them. "What if August goes?" she asked, her voice small as she snatched at one last option.
"It's too far, and too snowy. And he's too small to ride Cleo on his own," Archie replied far too calmly. "Sh-h-h, Ruby, just breathe—it's going to be okay. I promise, I've delivered lots of babies." His grip was firm on her arms, restraining her from getting up.
"Archie Hopper, just because you've delivered Flora's calf and who knows how many other barnyard animals does not mean you are qualified to deliver a human baby!" she cried before squeezing her eyes shut against another wave of pain.
"Yes, I'll grant you that, but what does qualify me is the fact that I used to be a doctor and have seen to the safe deliveries of countless babies. Does that satisfy you?"
Ruby let out a breath and focused on Archie once more. She studied his clear, blue eyes, searching for any signs of teasing.
He was dead serious.
"You're—you're a doctor?" she gasped, her mind grappling with this new information. "But why—why didn't you tell me? And why were you so worried about getting another doctor in town?"
She could see a flash of surprise in his eyes that she had discovered one of his secrets before he regained control. "Never mind all that—we'll have plenty of time to talk later. First, we need to get you out of that dress."
Ruby finally agreed and laid back, fumbling with the buttons over her front before letting him help her out of her dress and underskirts and pinafore until only her undergarments remained.
Once undressed, she hurriedly pulled the blankets over her to keep some sense of modesty, at least while she could, before another pain overtook her.
"August!" Archie called, disappearing outside of the room for a moment. Ruby took deep breaths, trying to relax in between contractions. She heard some shuffling outside the bedroom before Archie reappeared with a chair. Shortly after, August appeared clutching a black leather bag that he quickly gave to his father.
"Are you okay, Miss Ruby?" the boy asked with wide eyes. He was firmly planted in the doorway, and Ruby offered him a weak smile.
"Yes, Sweetheart, I'm okay—it's only a little discomfort," she tried to assure the worried boy. For all his bravado and mischief, she knew he could be quite sensitive. "I'll be okay. We'll have a new baby soon, you'll see."
Archie turned around in seat, the bag on his lap, and looked at his son. "Thank you, August. You've been a big help. Now I need you to keep the fire going strong in the main room, and I need you to stay on that side of the house, do you understand?"
August nodded solemnly before disappearing into the main room, and Archie rose to close the bedroom door behind him. He lit the lamp beside Ruby's bed and sat down on his chair, rummaging through his bag to find a funny, hourglass shaped-tool.
Ruby's breaths came heavy as she watched him work. First, he took her wrist and pulled out a pocket-watch, nodding to the watch-face as he counted to himself. Then, he lowered the blanket off of her stomach and pressed one side of the cone to her stomach, his ear pressed to the other side. All she could see was the top of his head, the curly amber hair looking so soft that a surge of emotion washed over Ruby and she had to stop herself from running her fingers through his hair.
Ruby quickly lost all concern for the closeness they were thrown into, grateful for his knowledge as the pain grew more and more intense. She couldn't keep track of time as every fibre in her seemed to be on high alert, aware of nothing but the relentless pain that beat against her, and she soon felt like she'd passed whole days in this state, riding out each contraction and preparing for the next.
"You're doing great," Archie continued to say in his soothing tone, now from the end of the bed, as she whimpered and groaned through the pains. "The baby's on its way, so I'm going to need you to follow that urge and push."
Ruby took a deep breath and pushed with the next contraction, unable to think of anything but getting through the next few seconds, helpless to what her body was telling her to do. She held herself up slightly, every muscle working until the contraction passed, and she let herself relax against the pillow once more.
"I can see the head!" Archie said, wiping his brow with his forearm and glancing up at her, a grin spreading across his features.
"Really?" Ruby asked, breathless, holding herself up again.
Then, his expression dropped.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
"I think—I see the umbilical cord is wrapped around the neck," Archie explained, reaching for his tools which were now just beside her legs on the bed. She thought she saw him grab something that looked like scissors.
"What do you mean? Is everything okay?" Ruby asked, panic seizing her as she fought to understand what was happening, her whole body tense as she huffed through the pain.
It took all her energy to follow Archie's instructions, and she was only vaguely aware of what he was doing. She fought the urge to push as he worked, certain that she could not last much longer.
"Okay, Ruby, you can push now—push!" Archie cried, his voice sounding distant. Ruby grabbed the sheets tight in her fists and pushed as hard as she could, feeling like her whole body would surely split in two.
"He's here—Ruby, he's here," Archie exclaimed, and Ruby collapsed on the bed. Then, she raised her head up, watching Archie at the end of the bed as he cared for a little bundle—her child.
She held her breath, waiting for the telltale sign of life, and fear gripped her when all she could hear was her own pulse pounding in her ears. She thought she could see worry etched across Archie's brow, and she fought to stay calm.
"Archie, is everything okay? Archie!"
It seemed like whole years passed in the silence that fell until a baby's cry filled the room and Ruby suddenly felt like she was lighter than air.
Archie stood up and brought the baby to Ruby as she reached for her child, and he gently placed the baby on her chest.
"Ruby, I'd like you to meet your son," he said softly.
Ruby let out a sob as she looked into the face of her boy, squirming on her chest until she held him close.
"Hello, there," she breathed as he quieted down. An ache in Ruby's chest grew so strong she could hardly breathe, a love so intense washing over her that it could hardly be called such a mundane word.
"Welcome to the world, Peter Henry Smith."