Ada liked to hear her fiery manner. It’d bring her back to full strength, perfect for what was to come. “You’re right. Fanny, please assist me. Now, on the count of three.” She looked at Fanny, who was on the other side of Cerisa. “One, two, three!”
They managed to get the girl upright and walked her to the nest of blankets on the floor.
“You want me to lay there?” Her voice was incredulous.
Ada shifted herself in front of Cerisa. “No. What I want you to do is squat and push with all your might!”
The cocktail tasted marvelous, Francois decided, but Duval would have none of it. Francois shrugged and went to pour another, deciding he deserved the break as his ankle was sore, his emotions drained and life as he knew it was gone.
“Perhaps when it is your turn, you’ll understand,” Duval stated.
Francois stopped halfway through his pour. “My turn?”
“Yes. When you wed Ada.”
When he married Ada….truth was, he wasn’t sure if that’d ever happen. After their heated argument, they’d operated on neutral grounds. She saw the area’s sick and he helped her in travel, anything she required, trying to be resourceful and quiet, hoping to win her back that way. Memories of that night, when his past exploded into full color for her, replayed over and over in his mind, constantly reminding him of a time that was horrific to an anti-slavery advocate. But time and the war had changed him. He no longer was comfortable with what he did, though he still cared for the offspring he made, despite the outcome. Now, he viewed the dark man more as an equal, having fought with the few, seen the ones in the Union hospital work and even the freemen here, like old Charlie Bloom, who worked as hard as the whites to live and fight. He couldn’t correct the damage done, but he could strive to not repeat it, nor to support it. But would Ada believe him?
“Yes, well, that day may never come,” he finally vocalized, then downed the second drink in one gulp.
Duval snorted. “You should’ve explained the situation before you arrived.”
“Yes, I was told that by LaJoyce.”
Duval stared hard at him his eyes narrowed. “Considering what I heard and how you handle yourself, I was somewhat surprised you appeared with a white lady on your arm. Could’ve sworn your penchant was for ebony.”
That made him shift. He waggled his tight lips, considering that notion in his head. “Yes, I see why you’d say that. I have enjoyed the pleasures of those ladies. But Ada…” He smiled. “She managed to grab my attention in more ways than one.” In too many ways, he remembered. Now, those may only be memories. Damn!
Duval went and poured himself a drink, downed it and slammed the glass down. “You fought with the Tigers?”
Francois frowned. He knew he did.
“I just wish I could trust you,” he muttered, before he returned to his pacing.
Francois’s frown remained. What the hell was that about?
“Come on, Cerisa, push!”
Cerisa bit her lip, her face turning red as she squatted above the blanket beneath her and forced a push.
Ada was on the floor, near her, waiting. She thought she could see the crown of the baby’s head. If she’d only push harder.
And it happened. Cerisa screamed as the child slipped out and onto the bundle of material. Ada reached for the infant, pulling him aside and taking the knife she’d placed on the side of the blanket and cut the cord still connecting them right before Cerisa stumbled. Fanny raced in to get the new mother as Ada stood with the baby all still covered in afterbirth. She spanked the child, trying to get him to clear his breathing with a good squall and the babe answered her with one, making Ada grin. She took the baby to the washbasin to clean her up as Fanny helped the exhausted Cerisa to bed.
“Mother, your new darling baby boy.” She handed the swaddled infant to her mother.
Cerisa looked drained but Ada could see her color return as she looked at her child. Fanny picked up the bloody rags with a nod to Ada, which she took as the mother was cleaned.
“He’s so beautiful,” Cerisa cooed as she cradled her baby. His blue eye stared in wonder at the woman holding him. It was the perfect scene, Ada thought. One she could replicate with Francois…she cut the thought off.
“Yes, he is.” Ada brought her a cup of water to sip from. “Now, we need you to rest so you can get on your feet. That baby will need you.”
Yet Cerisa had the child at her bosom, nursing. “Perhaps you and my brother will have one soon.”
Ada swallowed. Right as she started to think it might be very soon, her womb clutched and she doubled in pain.
“Are you all right?” Cerisa asked, worry showing in her eyes. “You’ve been too busy with the sick. You need to rest, too.”
“I’m fine.” She grimaced, barely able to ignore the pang of sadness as the monthly cramps took control.
“Have you and my brother made up?”
She spun. “Of course!”
But the question didn’t leave Cerisa’s brow. “He should have told you before. I’m sorry.”
That unnerved her that his sister apologized for his transgressions. She started to pick up her medical supplies. “It’s not your worry.”
“But it is.” She turned the child to her other breast, cradling him closely. “My family is a very old one, patriarch of the parish, so we’re pretty well known. My brother might have added to the sins of my family, but, strangely enough, he’s always cared for our slaves. In many ways, he’s kept in contact long after they’ve left.”
Memories of his half-sister, the mulatto in New York, Jaquita, appeared in Ada’s mind. He did seem to care for her. “Regardless, it was a surprise to see.”
Cerisa rolled her lips in. “Our oldest brother, Jack, didn’t
