"No, it's not sewing day." Hilda eyed Ivy's middle.

Ivy fought the urge to shove her hands into her apron pocket and sort of pull the apron out so her belly wouldn't look quite so big.

"Come here," Ruth said. "We wanted to show you something."

"'Kay." Ivy walked toward them and wondered what they were up to. Ruth and Laney suddenly parted, and Ivy saw what had been hiding behind their skirts.

"Not just the cradle, either, Ivy. They've filled it with diapers and baby gowns, too." Galen's ma stood next to her and added, "Silly as it sounds, I'd forgotten just how wee small the baby clothes are. You'd think after rearing all those sons of mine, I'd recall such a thing."

Tears streaked down her face. Ivy tried clearing her throat so she could say something, but she couldn't stop crying.

"Now will you be lookin' at the lass?" Ma wound an arm around her. "Your grand presents left our Ivy speechless."

Laney pressed a handkerchief into Ivy's hand. "I'm sorry we can't stay today, but on Friday, we'll come and have a sewing day."

Ivy nodded. She tried to mop her face, but then she saw the itty-bitty stitching on the corner of the hankie. It was the exact same shade of blue, and the style of the letters embroidered on it were identical to one of Galen's Sunday-best handkerchiefs. In her hand, she held proof of what she'd tried to deny. By giving her baby a home and a father, she'd deprived her friend the love of her lifetime.

The misery didn't abate after the women left. It gnawed at her until Ivy couldn't bear it any longer. The next day, she concocted a reason she ought to go to town. Ishmael and Galen were busy, and Ma needed to do some gardening. Disregarding the warnings she'd been given about the thief, she set out alone for town.

It took all of her nerve, but she finally made a fist and knocked on a door.

"Come on in!" a deep voice called.

Ivy pushed open the door and timidly stepped inside.

"Mrs. O'Sullivan."

Ivy twisted around, horrified that Galen's mother had followed her. Only she wasn't there.

"Can I help you?" The doctor dried his hands on a snowy towel.

She shut the door and leaned against it. "I ain't good at knowin' stuff. If 'n I'm wrong, I want you to tell me straight off."

"That seems reasonable enough."

She swallowed. "Parsons and doctors-they gotta keep a secret if 'n a body tells 'em sommat, right?"

"Yes. It's called confidentiality. We can't help people if they're afraid of something and don't give us the full truth. Is there something I can help you with?"

"I ain't got no cash money." Her nose and eyes started to sting with unshed tears. "And the Pony Express ain't been payin' Galen for all his work and for keepin' them horses. Mayhap I oughtta go wait till the parson gets home."

"You can do whatever you feel you need to, Mrs. O'Sullivan. I would like to take a moment, though, and talk to you about the baby."

Her knees started to give way, and she slid down the door as she whispered, "How'd you know that's why I come?"

"Argh!" Galen gritted his teeth against the pain.

"'Tis a vicious, mean cut," Ishmael announced.

"Aye," Ma agreed. "Doc's going to have to be stitching this together, son."

"You sew every bit as good as the doctor does." Galen jerked his chin toward Ma's sewing box. "Grab a needle."

"Nay, son. Arms are tricky. More important, 'tis your right arm. I'll wrap it up, but you'll be seeing the doctor, and I won't hear otherwise."

Ishmael poked him in the shoulder. "Least you was a-wearin' the shirt you and Sis spoilt when you tried to wash it. Ain't too much of a loss."

"Just rip off the sleeve. No use in my getting blood on another one."

"I'll go saddle up a horse."

"Two horses." Ma gave Ishmael a stern look. "You'll go along to make sure he's okay."

"Cain't rightly do that, ma'am. I give my word to Galen that I'd stay and take care of the relay. It's due through today."

Galen groused at Ma for fussing like a hen and assured her he'd be okay by himself.

"Doc, I feel like ten kinds of a fool for this," he said later as the man examined the wound.

"You would have been a hundred times a fool if you hadn't come in. The cut's right beside a nerve. I'll be able to spare it, but don't be surprised if you can't move your arm well for about a week, because it's going to swell."

Galen nodded glumly. It burned like anything while Doc washed up the cut and stitched it back together. Stupid thing went from his wrist clear up to his elbow. "If Dale didn't put so much store in that dumb pig, I'd turn him into pork chops."

"So it was Mr. Snout, eh?"

Galen gritted his teeth so he wouldn't let on how much it hurt.

"Did you hear about Fort Sumter?" Doc asked as he kept working. "Thirty-four hours of fighting. Thirty-four, and not a man on either side was killed."

"Makes me think it might be God's way of saying He'd rather have His children reason it out instead of fight."

"Things are happening fast. Lincoln declared a state of insurrection and has called up seventy-five thousand troops. Lee refused to lead them and is said to be a possible leader of the Southern army."

"I hadn't heard that. He's from Virginia. Last I knew, Virginia was still with the Union."

"They're not. The day after Virginia seceded, Lee resigned from the U.S. Army. The very next day, Lincoln declared a naval blockade of the Southern ports." Doc continued to fill him in on all of the political happenings.

After Doc wrapped a bandage around the whole mess, Galen asked, "What'll you take for payment?"

Doc thought for a moment. "A favor."

"You're a fair man. I can agree to that. Just name it."

"That you let me deliver your wife's baby."

Galen jolted. "Of course we're going to send for you."

"Good. Good." Doc went to his washstand and started to scrub his hands. "I can't say much, Galen. You know not to ask me questions. All I'll tell you is this: Ivy's very fragile. Treat her with care."

"Is she sick? Is there something I should know?"

"I'll see you at church."

"Don't put me off like that." Galen stared at the doctor. "What-"

"No questions," Doc said, methodically washing each finger. "Just treat her with care and call me when her time comes."

Puzzled by the cryptic advice, Galen went outside. He swung into the saddle and grunted at the pain the jarring motion caused. Having wasted time on this, he decided to take a shortcut back home. He cut across a field and spotted the same stranger whom he'd seen with Ivy. Galen thought to go after him, but something kept him from doing so. He continued on a few hundred yards more and pulled his horse to a halt.

Ivy sat on a stump, doubled over and weeping.

Galen dismounted and approached her. "Ivy?" He touched her hair, and she flinched. "It's just me, lass. That man-did he bother you? Did he hurt you?"

She looked at him, confusion clouding her teary eyes.

"He's the same one who was with you the time you were studying your letters. Ivy, did he ... is he ..."

She wiped away her tears, but new ones replaced them. "Dundunno w-w-what you mean."

"A man was here."

She shook her head. "I'm all-all-all on my l-l-lonesome."

She was too upset to lie. Galen couldn't figure out what was happening. Doc hadn't said the half of it when he said Ivy was fragile. How did I miss how frail she is? She's barely more than a lass. Galen took her hand in his. Her hand was rough and red and bony. The thing that got to him, though, was how it shook.

He knelt by her. "Ah, lass. You needn't be scared of me. All this time, I've thought you were protecting a lover. That wasn't it, though, was it? When a man hurts a woman, 'tisn't her fault. Whatever happened to you, you're not to blame. You can trust me." He gently raised her hand and pressed a soft kiss on the back of it.

She fell apart. Burrowed into his chest, she sobbed as she finally told the truth.

Galen awkwardly pulled the blanket up to his wife's shoulders and smoothed it in place. She'd wept herself to oblivion.

"I'll have the boys go weed so she can sleep," Ma whispered.

He nodded. "Pray, Ma. Pray."

"That I will."

He went out to the stable. Ishmael was tending the relay pony. "Did the rider come through on time?"

"Yup." Ishmael chuckled and shoved the mustang's nose away from his shirt. "This'un's my favorite. She cain't holp herself. She's gotta get a whiff and try to figger out what I et. I don't make it none to hard on her. Usually, I got me a spot or splash of sommat on the front of me." Ishmael finally turned around. His smile melted. "What's a-wrong?"

"We need to talk." Galen walked out to the pasture, Ishmael following him. The boys would be coming home from school anytime now, and he didn't want them around.

"Boss, did I do sommat bad? If 'n I said a bad word, 'twasn't on purpose. You know I'm still-"

"It's not that." Galen slid his left arm around Ishmael. "We need to pray first."

"Okay."

Galen asked the Lord for wisdom and guidance, for help and healing. When he finished, Ishmael chimed in on the amen. Galen didn't let go. He looked at his brother-in-law and decided the best way to handle the truth was to speak plainly.

"Ishmael, I know who sired Ivy's baby."

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX.

Ishmael started. "You do?" "Aye." Galen looked him in the eyes. "Your father got drunk. He-"

"No!" The word tore from Ishmael. He reared back and spun away. "No!" Ishmael walked a few paces away and came back. He'd gone sheet white, and his eyes carried the exact same anguish Ivy's had held earlier. "Oh, no, no, no." Ishmael fell to his knees.

"She didn't want you to know," Galen said quietly.

"She was a-tryin' to protect me, and I shoulda protected her." Deep sobs wracked him. "I shoulda knowed."

Just as he had with Ivy, Galen knelt and wrapped his arms around Ishmael. Finally, when Ishmael's storm lessened, he raised his head. "I gotta go to her. I gotta. Whar is she?"

"She cried herself to sleep." Galen heaved a sigh. "Let her sleep, Ishmael. Ma's staying with her."

"I gotta talk to her."

"I understand that you do, but not now. I told Ma we'll have the boys bunk down in the tack room tonight. When Ivy wakes up, you can be there for her." Squeezing Ishmael's shoulder, Galen pledged, "I'll be by her side, too. She needs our strength and love."

"I came to tell you there's been a change in plans." Ruth leaned heavily on Laney.

"I can see why." Laney helped Ruth toward her bed and helped tug off her robe. "You lie back down. I'll get you some tea to settle your stomach."

"Mrs. O'Sullivan's downstairs. She came over with Ishmael, but I'm not letting the two of you ride back there alone. Toledo's going to accompany you."

"Thats fine." Laney drew the covers up on Ruth and checked the positioning of the clean pot beside the bed. "I thought you didn't keep secrets from me."

Ruth opened one eye. How she managed it, Laney couldn't say, but Ruth managed to look peeved. "I wasn't sure. I'm still not positive."

The rattle of china announced someone was coming. Hilda entered, carrying a tray. "Laney, grab your sewing and go on downstairs. You'll go to the O'Sullivans' today. Ishmael will accompany Amanda to town and help her in the library. I'll take care of Ruth. Ruth, I brewed you some tea." Hilda set down the tray and jerked her thumb toward the door.

Laney dipped down, pressed a kiss to Ruth's forehead, and whispered, "You'll be a wonderful mama."

As she walked out of the room, Laney heard Hilda's voice go all soft. "Tea and a soda biscuit will help. I even put apple-pear butter-"

A distressed sound accompanied a flurry of sheets. Laney turned back around.

"You go on. I've got her." Hilda held Ruth's braid to the side.