Natasha's Hope Read online

“I’ve been counting the hours to your visit. I fear I’ve become anxious,” Hope admitted once they were alone. “I may begin contractions and mistake them for….”

  Memories flooded her mind, painful, horrid memories. Two babies—two daughters, buried behind their home. She would never hold them, or have the ability to tell them how much she and Adam loved them. Unshed tears filled her eyes. “My anxiety seems to grow as my quickly as my stomach.” Scared, a small portion of her heart regretted the decision to carry the child. It would break her heart to lose another baby.

  “You must remain positive.” Vicki embraced her. “I never believed I would become a momma, but now I have two beautiful children. You must focus on the baby that you’ll be holding in your arms. Breathe deeply and relax.”

  “Adam talks to the baby every night. He rubs my stomach and talks about his day.”

  “This baby will know his poppa’s voice, and his love.”

  They had been visiting almost an hour when Stewart entered the room. “It is pleasing to see my two favourite females.”

  “Do not allow Momma to hear you say that, or Izabella,” Vicki teased.

  Her father winked at her. “Momma is my third favourite. I’m not able to rate Izabella.”

  His eyes twinkled at the very mention of Izabella’s name. Hope chuckled. “I must assume it is because she shares your bed.”

  His jaw dropped as his eyes bulged. “Hope Venderkemp,” he gasped.

  Hope laughed and then grasped her stomach. Her laughter intensified.

  “I must find my children and return home before Greg arrives from work. I’ll return in a few days for another visit.”

  Vicki embraced her and then walked out of the room.

  “I cherish my visits with Aunt Vicki. I feel close to Momma when I’m with her.”

  “Your momma is by your side, Hope. She wants this grandchild.”

  * * *

  Adam refused to decorate the nursery and would not discuss the room or allow Stewart and Izabella the honours. He referred to it as a guest room. They were warned not to jinx the pregnancy. Hope entered that dreaded seventh month and Stewart kissed her forehead every afternoon to ensure she wasn’t fevered. The month passed. I should be relieved, but it’s impossible to relax until the child is born and I know my daughter is well.

  * * *

  Stewart sat with Hope, listening as a young orphanage boy read her a book.

  “Hope?” seven-year-old Harry questioned.

  Stewart looked up from his novel. His daughter was sitting upright grasping her stomach. The baby. Dear Lord, look after my little girl. “Hope?” Stewart questioned.

  “I’m not certain, Poppa. The baby could be moving, or perhaps it’s indigestion from my snack….” She looked at Harry.

  If she burps, or, heaven forbid, rumbles from beneath the covers, it will be impossible to avoid laughing. Harry will giggle … But what if it isn’t gas? What if…. “Is it possible you’ve had your first contraction?”

  “Perhaps, but it’s too early. I shouldn’t deliver for a few more weeks.”

  “Remain calm. Do not startle Harry,” he mumbled quietly. He stood and calmly extended his hand to the young boy. Reaching the hallway, Stewart looked toward the medical area. Izabella walked out of the orphanage nursery.

  “Izabella. Take Harry downstairs. Tell Adam to come.”

  She nodded. “Then I’ll go for Doc Leo.”

  Stewart returned to Hope’s side and kissed her forehead. No fever. Allowing himself to breathe, he sat on the bed, and waited for Adam.

  “If I burp … belch or….”

  “Should I warn Tom and the children?” Stewart asked, attempting to keep the mood light.

  Hope put her hands over her face. “I’ll be humiliated if it’s loud. Perhaps I should get up and move around.”

  “No,” he responded sternly. “Izabella has gone for Doc Leo. He will decide what’s best.”

  They heard a stampede in the hallway. Adam rushed into the room, white-faced and gasping for breath. “Hope?”

  “I’m not ill,” she assured him.

  Adam leaned over, kissed her forehead and then her cheek. “You’re not fevered.”

  “Poppa agrees. It’s possible it may be gas. Oh my gosh, a room full of people and out it will come. How humiliating.” She buried her face in her hands.

  Adam sat on the bed, placing his arm around her shoulder. Stewart strived to keep the conversation light as they waited, anxiously.

  Doc Leo finally arrived and Stewart and Adam left the room.

  “It could be a long afternoon and evening, hopefully ending with the birth of a healthy baby. Or it could be a quick check-up to say all was well.”

  “Yes,” Adam agreed.

  They stood in the hall and waited to hear from Doc. There wasn’t a sound from the room, no voices, no chatter. It seemed far too quiet.

  Fifteen minutes later, Doc Leo opened the door.

  “The baby’s heartbeat is strong. Hope is in good health. I’m hopeful you will have a child before the night is out,” he informed them. “But the birth will not occur for a few hours.” He returned to the room and closed the door.

  “My sitting room is far more comfortable than the floor. Come sit with me. We will hear voices.”

  The men retired to Stewart’s room, leaving the door open.

  Hearing movement, Adam jumped and rushed into the hallway. Stewart watched Adam look down the hallway.

  “Stewart is in here,” Adam stated, noticing Izabella return.

  Izabella entered the room and sat on the sofa beside Stewart.

  “I rode to Vicki’s and your parents. I assured them we would keep them informed. I didn’t speak with Nanny or Marcus.” Turning her attention to Adam, she continued, “Your parents shall arrive shortly.”

  “I shall telephone Natasha’s family,” Stewart responded. “It will give me something constructive to do.”

  Determined to remain positive, he gave Adam a gentle pat on the back and walked down the hallway. Natasha’s spirit is with our daughter. Hope will survive, as will the child.

  Time passed slowly. Adam paced the room. Tom came up to enquire before leaving for the evening. The children were put to bed. Adam’s parents joined them in Stewart’s sitting room for a short time. Stewart lacked patience for waiting, and lacked the concentration for reading. There wasn’t a sound from the master bedroom. On a positive note, Doc Leo wasn’t rushing to the infirmary. This child did not appear to be in a hurry to enter the world.

  Time continued to creep by—slower than he ever thought possible. Stewart’s mind drifted to Hope’s first visit with Natasha’s mother, Anna. How he worried, questioning whether he’d see his baby again. He did not like anything being out of his control. Hope is across the hall. Doc is with her. There is nothing more I could possibly do.

  * * *

  “Brutal. Nothing worse than waiting,” Keeghan groaned. “Please tell me that you are about to be born. I need to know, Alexander. Is Hope okay? You’ve killed two dogs on me. I’m still upset about that. Goldie was old, but that was a cruel way to take Brodie. I won’t forgive you if Hope dies during childbirth.”

  “I’m not sure I warned you, Alexander. My wife is lovable, but she holds grudges. You better warn her if you are planning to kill anyone else.”

  There was absolutely no change to Alexander’s facial expression. Keeghan scowled. He was far too good at keeping his emotions to himself.

  * * *

  Sixteen hours after Hope gripped her stomach, the wail of a newborn cut the silence. Everyone in the room rose to their feet. “It could be a woman in the orphanage delivering her child,” Stewart reminded them.

  Adam dashed to the hallway with Stewart and Izabella behind. Izabella continued down the hallway, leaving the men outside the master bedroom. She returned a minute later, her hands clasped together, a smile brightening her face.

  “That baby cry did not come from the orphanage.”


  “Hope has given birth,” Stewart confirmed.

  Adam blinked his glossy eyes. “I have a child. We have a child.”

  Listening outside the master bedroom, they did not hear a sound.

  “What was I thinking when constructing this building? It is too well insulated. I need to hear Hope’s voice.”

  Time seemed to stand still. He would never be a patient man, not where Hope was concerned. The door finally opened.

  “Hope wishes to see you, Adam.”

  “She is well?”

  “Both she and your child are in good health,” Doc Leo assured him.

  Placing his hand together and pointing his fingers toward the heavens, Adam stared at the ceiling and murmured a prayer of thanks before he entered the room.

  * * *

  Exhausted, Hope wished to see Adam before falling asleep. She wanted to see his face when he held their baby for the first time. Doc placed pillows behind her back and assisted her to sit up. The nurse wrapped their child in white linen. Adam entered the room. He looked equally exhausted. He walked over, kissed her forehead and turned his attention to the nurse.

  “May I?” he asked.

  The nurse placed the baby in his arms and left the room.

  “Hello, Poppa. We have a strong and healthy son. He’s perfect,” she announced with pride.

  “A son,” he repeated. “And you?”

  “Tired, but well. Pleased and proud.”

  Moving toward the bed, he sat on the edge. Hope needed sleep, but wanted to see her father.

  “I wish to see Poppa and Izabella,” she informed him. She yawned.

  Adam raised his voice slightly. “Stewart. Izabella.”

  * * *

  “The baby boy—Baby Alexander Stewart. You are Hope and Adam’s baby. Stewart and Natasha’s grandson.” Keeghan narrowed her eyes at Alexander attempting to force him to confirm her suspicions.

  Alexander gave his head a slight nod.

  Keeghan bit her bottom lip and waved her fingers in front of her eyes. “I’m going to cry. No, I’m not. Oh my gosh. This is the story of your life,” she bubbled with enthusiasm.

  Will placed his arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

  Quiet as usual, Alexander pointed back to the screen.

  * * *

  Finally, hearing their names, Stewart and Izabella hurried into the room, beaming.

  “You have a grandson,” Adam announced proudly. “Would you care to hold him?”

  Tempted, there was nothing he wanted more, but Adam deserved the honours. Izabella touched the baby’s cheek with her finger. Stewart walked to the bed and kissed Hope’s cheek.

  “Later,” he responded. “Both the child and his momma require rest.”

  Adam placed the baby in Hope’s arms.

  “We will talk in the morning. Izabella and I will inform the family.”

  “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but it is late,” Izabella reminded him.

  “They are not sleeping well, but shall rest better upon hearing the news. I have become a papa, and my daughter is in good health.”

  Stewart couldn’t erase the smile from his face.

  * * *

  An hour later, Stewart carried the bassinet up the steps. He looked into the master bedroom. Adam lay tucked under the covers beside Hope, his head propped up by his hand.

  “I expected you to be sleeping.”

  “I’m tired, but I’m enjoying the moment. I assumed you had retired. Ah, the bassinet. I was about to go for that.”

  “Adam,” Hope moaned.

  “Shh,” he whispered. “Sleep, my darling.” He turned his attention back to Stewart. “Would you care to do the honours and place our son in his bed?”

  Stewart set the bassinet beside Hope’s side of the bed, reached over his daughter, and took his grandson into his arms. He admired the sleeping child as Adam crawled off the bed.

  “I’ll spend the night on the chair,” Adam whispered. “I fear I won’t hear our son from the spare room when he requires a feeding. I don’t want Hope getting out of bed without assistance.”

  “Nay. The door to the infirmary is locked, but the door to our quarters shall remain open. Do not hesitate to call if you require assistance. Given the hour, I only plan to rest a few hours.” Stewart kissed the baby’s forehead, placed the child in the bassinet, covered him, and went to his own room.

  * * *

  Waking in the middle of the night, the bright moon cast shadows in their bedroom. Hope kept her tired eyes closed and moved her hand in search of her husband. Alone in the bed, she pried her eyelids apart. Squinting, Adam was slumped uncomfortably on a chair.

  “Adam,” she whispered. “Adam.”

  Adam jumped from the chair and placed his hand in front of the baby’s mouth and nose. “He’s breathing. He’s sleeping.”

  “You require sleep.”

  “I fear I will not hear the baby from the other room,” he mumbled still half asleep.

  He slumped down on the chair and wriggled around in an attempt to get comfortable.

  “I appreciated the gesture but you are too tall for the chair. You’ll become ill without proper sleep,” she lectured. “With you by my side, our family will sleep peacefully. Please, join me in bed. I will not rest until you do.”

  Unfolding himself from the chair, Adam worked his way around the bed and crawled in beside her, placing his arm around her. He was sleeping as his head touched the pillow. Hope leaned over and watched their baby. He was sleeping soundly, too soundly. Almost like a doll. She brushed the edge of her finger over his small cheek. “He’s real. This can’t be a dream. Adam and I are finally parents.”

  Giving in to her heavy eyelids, within minutes, she was oblivious to the world around them.

  * * *

  The following morning, Stewart dressed and went to the master bedroom. Adam stood by the window, burping the baby. Hope was resting in the bed, struggling to keep her eyes open.

  “There are a number of people wishing to make an acquaintance with this child.”

  “I require a moment to change him,” Adam responded.

  “Your momma washed baby clothes yesterday while we waited for news. They are in the nursery.”

  Adam smiled, placed the babe in his arms and walked out of the room.

  * * *

  Later in the day, Adam sat on the edge of the bed, holding their son as Hope enjoyed her noon meal. The baby gripped his finger.

  “He requires a name,” Adam reminded her.

  They had chosen names before their marriage, but with two miscarriages, they had ceased to mention the topic.

  “It would please me to use the name we discussed,” Hope informed him.

  Adam beamed with pride. Hearing movement in the hallway, she turned her attention to the door. “Your timing is impeccable, Poppa. We wish to formally introduce you to your grandson. Alexander Stewart Venderkemp. We have named our son after his grandfathers.”

  A tear ran down her father’s cheek. Adam placed Alex in his papa’s arms.

  “I’m honoured,” Poppa whispered, looking down at his grandson.

  “Alex. You shall become well acquainted with Papa and….” Adam stopped. He turned his attention to Izabella. “I’m not aware of your preference. Do you prefer Nana…?”

  “Nay. I have never attempted to become Hope’s momma. Alex shall be informed his nana passed. I prefer to be known as Izabella.”

  “As you wish.”

  Hope spent the majority of the day in her room. She was kept busy entertaining Nana and Papa, Adam’s parents, and Vicki and Greg. Adam assisted her from the bed three times, supporting her as she walked the hallway of the addition and back into their bed. “My legs feel like rubber. I’m so tired.”

  “It will take some time to rebuild your muscles, Hope.”

  * * *

  Over the next few weeks, family continued to visit. Joshua sent a telegram congratulating his niece and her family, welcoming the newest additi
on. Hope sent a note informing Anna she would arrange a visit.

  Chapter Six

  Hope pulled down the sheets, preparing for bed.

  “Alex has outgrown the bassinet,” Adam informed her. “He won’t get a good sleep in here. It is time he begins sleeping in the crib.”

  Hope dreaded this moment. Adam intended to move Alex to the nursery, but it was too soon. She woke many a night, just listening to him breathe. She was terrified Alex would die in his sleep and she wouldn’t hear him.

  “No,” she responded firmly. “He must remain by my side.”

  “With the doors between the rooms open and his ability to cry, we’ll hear him when he wakes,” he assured her.

  Adam walked out of their room. He returned a few minutes later, picked up Alex, and carried their infant son to the nursery.

  Hope had a restless sleep. Every sound had her racing to the nursery.

  “Allow me to bring him back to our room,” she begged in the middle of the night.

  “I sympathize with your dilemma, but no. I must insist the baby remain in his crib the entire night. It won’t be easier in a week or month.”

  “I know you’re right, but I’m scared.”

  Adam embraced her.

  * * *

  Three months later, Hope woke shortly before dawn after one of her better sleeps since the birth of her son. I didn’t hear Alex cry through the night. My baby slept…. Terror ripped through her. “Please dear God. Don’t do this to me.” Petrified, Hope jumped up and ran to the nursery. She heard Adam scurrying behind. Hope leaned over the crib, listening. “I hear him breathing. I think I hear him breathing.” Not convinced, she placed her hand on Alex’s back. Relieved, she breathed a sigh of relief. Adam’s hand touched her shoulder. She stepped back until she rested against his chest.