Annie headed for the barn like a homing pigeon, and was never happier than when she was on a horse. Riding with her, when he had time, was a pleasure. She kept up with him, galloping across the fields and jumping streams. Her horse was smaller than his, but she had no trouble matching his speed, and got the best out of every horse she rode. She had an uncanny communication with them, and seemed to sense their every thought and anticipate every move. He loved riding with her, and her lessons were a pleasure for him. He was very proud of her, as though she was his own.
It was a long hot summer for Lucy, the babies were due in September, and in the last week of August, she could hardly move anymore, and their employer sent her home to rest. She would have continued to the end, but even the doctor had told her to slow down. There was a chance the twins would come early. She’d had no problem with the pregnancy so far, but the delivery was likely to be more difficult with twins. Once she stopped work, she hardly got out of bed, and Jonathan was cooking their meals at night, with Annie’s help. He made bangers and mash, and shepherd’s pie, stew, and all the things he liked to eat and his mother had taught him to cook. Annie loved assisting him in the kitchen, and everywhere else. She was his shadow in the barn, and he would turn around and find her beside him as he checked on the horses, or called the vet for a horse that had been injured or seemed sick, and when he couldn’t find her, she was either currying a horse, taking one a treat, or in their stall.
The nursery was ready. They had a tiny third bedroom in their cottage that was barely bigger than a closet. It was going to be the twins’ room. Jonathan didn’t want to take away Annie’s bedroom that she had had since they moved in, and he had painted pink for her. He treated her as their firstborn, with all the honor and respect that went with it.
Lucy was at his mother’s cottage the night she went into labor. It started off with a bang when her water broke, and by the time they got to the hospital, she was unable to speak through the pains. The doctor examined her when they arrived, and spoke to them as Lucy clutched her husband’s hand and tried not to scream.
“If this was a single baby, I’d have said it was going to be very fast. But it never is with twins. We can give you something for the pain, Lucy, but we need your help. I can’t give you much. We can put you out when it’s over, but we’re going to need your cooperation, so you’ll need to be awake and alert, especially for the second twin. We don’t want too much time between the two deliveries. How long did your last labor take?” he asked, and Lucy looked stunned for a minute and didn’t know what to say.
“I can’t remember,” she said vaguely, and the doctor looked surprised.
“It can’t have been too bad then.” He smiled at her. “Most women remember every minute of it. It won’t be long now for the first one. I can feel the baby’s head.” He examined her again, and that time she screamed, and the doctor asked Jonathan if he wanted to leave the room and he shook his head and didn’t move.
“I’ve helped a lot of mares give birth,” he said calmly, and although he said it was unusual, the doctor let him stay. He was worried at how severely Lucy was reacting, and thought she’d need all the support she could get. Jonathan was quiet and calm, and didn’t seem inclined to panic. He sat next to Lucy, while she cried, until they took her to the delivery room, and Jonathan stayed near her head. The doctor was right. Lucy sounded like she was dying, but the doctor had the first twin in her arms after half an hour of strenuous pushing. It was a boy. Then the contractions stopped for a few minutes, before they started again with a vengeance, and Lucy begged them both to do something to stop it. They put an oxygen mask on her while she pushed. The second twin took an hour and was much more difficult. He was bigger and gave a powerful cry when he was born. Jonathan held him for a few minutes, while the doctor tended to Lucy, and then he cut the cord. They gave her a shot for the pain the moment both babies were out, and she was groggy as she looked at Jonathan and seemed dazed. But everything had gone well. The first twin had weighed nine pounds, and the second twin weighed just over ten. She had been carrying nineteen pounds of baby, and felt as though she had given birth to twin elephants. They were strapping, healthy baby boys, no matter what they had cost their mother.
“I’m not going to die like Charlotte, am I?” she asked Jonathan with glazed eyes.
“You’re not going to die, my love. I’m so proud of you. We have two big beautiful boys. Who’s Charlotte?” he asked her then, and she shook her head and cried, as the doctor put another mask over her face and gave her a whiff of chloroform to put her out.