Leah took the saucer in both hands and brought it up to breathe in the tea, then set the saucer on the nightstand. She smiled at Connie. “I’m all right. I guess I’m going to have this baby. I don’t know. I’m bleeding a little. It mostly stopped. Nothing else has happened, not yet. Look at you. You’re a mess.”

“We came running, both of us.”

“Well. I was scared.” Took up the cup, blew and sipped. Wrapped her hands around the cup and rested it against her covered belly. “I’m still scared but not so bad. I need you to do something you’re not going to want to do but you have to anyway. For me you have to.”

Connie drank from her tea. Immediately regretted the applejack over the cider she’d already had. With no idea what was coming. Swallowed a little more and set the cup down. Leah raised her cup and sipped again and looked at Connie, waiting. Connie said, “What’s this thing I’m not going to want to do?”

Leah grinned and said, “You’re just like a little bull calf sometimes. Put your chin down against your throat looking like you’re ready to dig in your feet.”

“What is it you want?”

“I want you to go up and get Marthe Ballou for me.”

“Oh no. I won’t do that.”

“Yes you will.”

“No I won’t. I promised Norman I’d set with you. He’s getting the doctor and you’re going to be just fine.”

Leah sat silent. Leaned back against the pillows. As if running something long and complicated through her mind all over again, to render it down to the simple flat statements needed. Connie saw all this and felt something waver inside herself, some weakness she’d never before guessed at, or named, or done more than dismissed before. And rose up against it still silent, all the while feeling the rally as something false, something not true to herself. And knew then she’d do what Leah wanted and knew also it was her duty to not acquiesce, to drag forth all argument. And felt behind this all men, the simple fact of manhood and their great abiding, the gift they held and also the curse. To see things simply with resolution determined when all life was trial and guess. At best.

Leah spoke. As if explaining elemental process to a child yet with bold straightforwardness not to be denied. “I’m bleeding a little bit. I don’t know what that means. It’s most nearly a month early. My water’s not broke and I’ve got no cramps. Not yet anyhow. All of that I guess could happen any moment. Or a week from now. Or three like it should. Or I might be set to lose this baby. All those things. And I don’t know which. Won’t until I do. What I know is this: Norman went and did what he felt best to do. Didn’t ask me but told me. Now, that shaken old man called doctor ain’t so much as going to take down these covers and probe me. It just ain’t gon’ happen. He might do all that and be right with what he has to say but I ain’t got trust with him. Not one smack of trust. And I do trust Marthe. So I want you to go get her. It’s simple as that.”