The Midwife. Carolyn Davidson

chicks, gathering them into the henhouses at night lest the cool air should creep beneath their mothers’ hovering wings and kill the youngsters.

      Leah stepped into the hubbub of activity in the general store on a Monday morning in early June, Karen Lundstrom on her shoulder. Around her, the local ladies were catching up on gossip, most of them repeating stories heard at Sunday church.

      “Ah, Mrs. Gunderson, here with the little one this morning,” Hazel Nielsen called out. “Bonnie, come see your friend,” she said, moving aside the curtain that led to the storeroom.

      Eyes swung in Leah’s direction, and she found a smile for the eager ladies who hovered around her like bees surrounding a hive.

      “How is the baby doing?” Lula Dunbar asked, her forefinger nudging at a dimpled elbow. “Look how blue her eyes are, just like her mama’s were.” She dropped her voice in deference to the dead mother. “Not pure ice like her pa’s, thank the good Lord. He’s a cold man, that one.”

      Leah swallowed a retort and turned to listen to Eva Landers, the town’s postmistress, who had left her desk in the corner of the store, where she had been sorting the day’s mail.

      “Let me see that little girl. What a darling she is!” Eva’s long, slender fingers threaded through Karen’s hair with a gentle touch, and Leah halted her progress through the store. “Don’t pay any mind to Lula Dunbar,” Eva whispered next to Leah’s ear. “She hasn’t said anything nice about a man since the day she married Hobart.”

      Leah smothered a laugh. Eva was a kindly woman, married to the undertaker, who doubled as the town’s cabinetmaker. It was handy, being accomplished at woodworking, when you were the one in charge of providing caskets for the occasional burial in town. Joseph was a sturdy man, solemn, as befitted his occupation, and Leah had often wondered how he managed to catch a joyous woman like Eva.

      “I’ll stop by for tea, if I may, later this afternoon,” Eva suggested brightly.

      Leah nodded eagerly. Visitors were frequent but usually bearing some cut needing stitching or seeking a poultice or remedy for the ills of another. Her practice had expanded since the winter months, ever since the Lundstrom baby had been hers to care for. As if every woman in town wanted a peek at the child, Leah had been inundated with requests for cough syrup or chest rub.

      “Leah! It’s good to see you.” Bonnie Nielsen came from the stockroom, brushing at dust on her sleeve as she passed her mother behind the counter. “What can I get for you today?”

      Leah groped in her dress pocket for the list she’d made up at breakfast this morning. “Not too much, Bonnie. Are there any early peas, yet?”

      Bonnie nodded. “Old Mrs. Havelock planted some next to the house where they get the morning sun, and she covered them at night so they wouldn’t freeze last month. She brought me a peck of them this morning.”

      “I’ll take a pound, if you can spare them,” Leah said quickly, aware of the treat she’d been offered. “How are the potatoes?”

      “Pretty much shriveled up, I’m afraid,” Bonnie answered. “I’ll see what I can find for you.”

      “If you need potatoes, you need only ask, Mrs. Gunderson,” a male voice said from behind her. A hush fell over the store as Gar Lundstrom stated his offer, and Leah pasted a smile on her face before she turned to face him.

      “I didn’t see you in the store, Mr. Lundstrom,” she said brightly.

      “I just came in. Just in time to hear you ask about potatoes. I have plenty left in the dugout. I’ll bring you some tomorrow.”

      She shook her head quickly. “Oh, you mustn’t bother. Just bring them to me on Sunday when you come to see the baby.” Leah felt a flush climb her cheeks as she became aware of the hush within the store as the women moved closer, the better to hear the words she spoke.

      Garlan Lundstrom shifted uncomfortably, as if he had only now become aware of the several women who surrounded him. “Well, maybe I can hang a bag over my boy’s horse when he rides to school tomorrow. He can bring them to you.”

      Leah nodded. “That would be wonderful. I’ll pay you for them when I see you next.”

      His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed at her words. “You will feed my child with them, no?”

      Leah swallowed, unwilling to get into a confrontation in the middle of the store. “Yes, certainly,” she agreed.

      “Then you don’t need to pay me.” His gaze scanned her, softening only when he smiled at his daughter. “Give the child to me,” he ordered gruffly, holding out his arms. “I’ll carry her to your house and wait for you there.”

      Leah gave over the child, nodding her thanks as Gar turned from her to leave the store. Karen was growing by leaps and bounds, her small, round body weighing heavily after a time in Leah’s arms.

      The store buzzed with half a dozen voices as the tall Swede left, the door closing with a bang behind him. “He’s a stern one,” Lula Dunbar said with a sniff, peering at Leah over her glasses. “You’ll do well to be rid of him once he finds someone to live out there and tend those children and his house for him. Though I don’t know where he’s going to look next. I declare he’s asked every old maid and widow in the county.”

      Leah shrugged. “I’m in no hurry to have him take the baby. She’s good company.”

      Bonnie called her name, and Leah turned gladly to heed her questions. “Do you want green tea today? We just got in a new shipment. And how about fresh baking powder? We’ve been out for almost a week, and I remember you asked for a tin last Friday.”

      “Yes and yes,” Leah said with a smile. “Green tea is good for the stomach, and after today—” she nodded surreptitiously at the black-clad figure of Lula Dunbar “—I’ll need something soothing to drink, I believe.”

      Bonnie nodded, then spoke in an undertone. “Everyone’s thinking the only way Gar Lundstrom will find help out there will be to marry someone.” Her voice was wistful.

      Leah blinked. “Marry? You think he’s going to get married?” she whispered. “It’s only been five months since…” She still had trouble speaking the words.

      “Mourning is a privilege reserved for those who can afford it,” Bonnie said sagely. “Around here, a man’s lucky if he can find somebody willing to take over a family if he loses his wife. Of course, a handsome man like Garlan might not be so hard put to talk some lady into it.” Bonnie’s eyes grew soft, as if she yearned in that direction, and Leah nodded.

      “You like him, don’t you, Bonnie?”

      “Yes, for all the good it does me. He looks right through me. Always has, always will, I suspect. I’m not pretty enough for a man to take a second look at.”

      Leah privately concluded the same, but her tender heart prompted her to disagree. “One of these days, the right man will come by and snap you up like a bolt of lightning, Bonnie. You just watch.”

      Without Karen to carry, Leah added ten pounds of flour to her order, then pondered over a piece of yard goods for a dress. Her bundle was large, and she carried it in both hands as she made her way to the small house where Gar Lundstrom waited for her.

      He sat on the porch, leaning against the upright post, his long legs propped on the second step. Karen was across his thighs, and her feet pushed at his waist as he lifted her to stand on his lap. She swayed, holding his index fingers, cooing and gurgling her delight at the man who held her.

      “She enjoys seeing you,” Leah said, watching from the bottom step.

      Gar looked at her, his gaze stern as always. “She is growing before my eyes. I miss much, only spending time with her on Sunday afternoons.”

      Leah smiled brightly. “Well, as soon as you find a housekeeper, you can take her back, Mr. Lundstrom. I only agreed to keep