A Mother In The Making. Gabrielle Meyer

“I can’t do this. It’s too much.”

      “What are your other options?” John pulled away from her and offered her a little space. “You must do what you’re called to do.”

      She wiped at her cheeks and bit her trembling lip. “I’m considering something drastic.”

      “It’s never a good idea to make a drastic decision when we’re upset.”

      “I’m thinking about offering up—” She began to cry again.

      “Shh.” John tried to soothe her. “Winnie, I promise, everything will work out.”

      “I’m thinking about giving some of my children up for adoption.”

      “Adoption? You’re not thinking straight.”

      “But how will I provide for them? I have no means of income. My only option is to marry again, but who would want to marry a bereaved woman with five or six children, all under the age of four?” She stared at him, her face splotched and swollen.

      John sat up straight. If Anna was still alive, she’d insist they help Winnie, and he liked to think that Calvin would have helped Anna in the same situation. But how?

      “Will you help me, John?” Winnie reached out and took his hands. “I’m desperate. I can’t go through this alone.”

      “Is there anyone?”

      “Anyone to do what?”

      He lifted a shoulder. This was an uncomfortable conversation to have with a friend. If she had been a stranger, perhaps it wouldn’t be so hard. He pulled his hands out of her grasp and stood. “Is there anyone who might...?”

      “Marry me?” She also stood. “Who? The war, and now the influenza pandemic, has left no family untouched.” She wadded up the handkerchief. “I would not dream of being so presumptuous to ask...and it embarrasses me to even admit why I came here...”

      She wanted John to marry her.

      He took a step back and bumped into the desk. The list he had made earlier was still facedown, waiting for his attention. Winnie fit most of the criteria on the list, if not all—but she was Anna’s friend, his friend—and she had four children to care for, more on the way. She was clearly overwhelmed with her responsibilities and her grief. Could she be a stable mother for his children?

      Charlie, Lilly, Petey and Laura were John’s first concern. He needed a woman who would love them like Anna had.

      Was it Winnie?

      “Winnie—”

      “Don’t say no right away.” She had stopped crying and was now looking at him with an intense gaze. “Please think about it, for me—for Calvin and Anna.”

      What was the harm in thinking about her as a prospect? Before Calvin had died, Winnie was a happy young woman who was quick to laugh and offer help where needed. Maybe, when her grief subsided, she could be the mother his children needed.

      Maybe.

      “Would you and the children like to come for supper this week?” It was the very least he could do for an old friend. Why hadn’t he thought of it before?

      Her shoulders loosened, and she let out a long breath. “Thank you. We would love to come.”

      “Wednesday night?”

      She dabbed at her cheeks again, her hands shaking, and suddenly looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry about all this—”

      He put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. “You don’t need to be sorry, Winnie. We’re friends. I’m happy you came to me.”

      She put one hand on his and offered him the faintest smile. “Thank you, John. I knew if anyone could understand, it would be you. I look forward to Wednesday.”

      He nodded and opened the door for her. “Me, too.”

      She walked down the hall toward the waiting room and looked over her shoulder one last time before he stepped back into his office.

      He closed the door and stood for a moment. It wasn’t enough that he was grieving his own loss, and treating dozens of patients who were dying every day, but he was also grieving the loss of friends.

      He walked back to his desk and turned the sheet of paper over. Winnie might fit the criteria, but could he marry her? He would share a meal with her and get to know her better before making a final decision. If he didn’t marry her, he would have to find some other way to help.

      Miss Maren’s smiling face suddenly appeared in his mind, and for some reason he couldn’t identify, he was eager to get home and see her. Was it because he was worried she couldn’t handle his four children, or was it because he longed for her cheery disposition right about now?

      He surmised it was the former. Of course.

      * * *

      “You’re sure she isn’t married?” Marjorie put Laura on her other hip and leaned down to ask Lilly, “That one, over there?”

      Lilly looked across the mercantile and nodded vigorously. “That’s Miss Baker. She teaches Sunday school at church.”

      After picking the two older children up from school, Marjorie had brought them downtown to see if she could spot anyone who might make a good bride for the doctor. She and Lilly had extended half a dozen invitations to their tea party in just an hour—and they were about to extend another.

      Marjorie straightened and peered around the display of ladies’ handkerchiefs. The woman in question was perusing a rack of sheet music, flipping through the songs in quick order. She wore a trim black coat and a jaunty purple hat, tilted just so on her brown curls.

      Miss Baker must have sensed Marjorie’s gaze, because she suddenly looked her way.

      Marjorie smiled and took her cue to approach. “Come, Lilly, I’d like you to introduce me.”

      Laura chewed on her bonnet strings, drool dripping down her chin and over the fist holding the strings, while Lilly walked beside Marjorie, her navy blue sailor coat and hat complementing her pretty blue eyes. Charlie had Petey in the corner of the store looking at a display of toy airplanes.

      “Hello, Miss Baker,” Lilly said as they approached.

      Miss Baker offered Lilly a smile, her whole face lighting with the gesture. She put her hand on Lilly’s shoulder. “Hello, Lilly. Have you heard the war is over?”

      Lilly nodded, a grin on her face, and looked up at Marjorie. “This is Miss Maren, my new governess.”

      Marjorie extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Marjorie Maren.”

      Miss Baker shook Marjorie’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I saw you in church on Sunday.” She laughed, and the sound made Marjorie warm to the young lady. “I saw you nodding off and I was jealous! Once, I came home with a black-and-blue mark from where my mother pinched me when I fell asleep in church, and I’ve never done it again.”

      “I think Papa would have pinched Miss Maren, too, if he was close enough.” Lilly joined in the laughter.

      Marjorie wasn’t inclined to laugh with them, though she offered a complimentary smile. She still hadn’t slept well since coming to the Ortons’ and was barely standing upright at the moment. This was their last stop before going home and she wanted to be done with the chore. “We’re going to have a tea party this Sunday after church and would like for you to join us.”

      Miss Baker clasped her hands. “Oh, that sounds lovely. I’ve always wanted to see inside Dr. Orton’s home.” She leaned closer to Marjorie and put up her hand to shield Lilly from her next words. “I feel so terrible about his wife. It must be awfully sad there. What I wouldn’t give to bring a little joy into their lives right about now.”

      Marjorie