Chapter 200
Doctor Annabeth looked at Winn and just shook her head. “Tell him to stop picking at that bandage. Had he sat in the chair as I’d suggested he wouldn’t have hit the floor so hard.”
I looked down at the good-sized pig in my arms. “If we have another one, he’ll know not to try and help with the contractions from such a close distance. I did try to warn him but …”
“But he’s a man and hated to see you in pain. How are you feeling my dear?” she asked smiling fondly. She’d nursed me through injuries more than once and feels she has a stake in my life now. I suppose I don’t disagree. She and Monty are the only two doctors that I will allow to touch me.
“Let’s just say if there is a next time it is not going to be by natural childbirth. I am going to have me some stroooong pain killers. And I am not riding that blasted mule back up the mountain. No way, no how. At least not until Juvember.”
That sent her and the nurse that had come in to take Holt Edward Dunn away for measuring and weighing into peels of laughter. Though when the nurse picked him up and put him in his rolling bassinet, she pushed it like she was pushing bricks uphill. I wound up with a nearly eleven-pounder after going almost three weeks passed our best guess due date.
After Winn and I were alone I said, “Sorry. Does it hurt?”
Winn snickered. “Naw. Deserve it. I shoulda sat and stayed out of the line of fire. Even that plastic bed pan was … er … you aren’t going to cry are you?!” he asked in alarm. “You never cry!”
I sniffed away the tears and nearly started to giggle. “Give it time. It’s the hormones. How are the kids?”
“Teena and Ford are ruling the playroom down the hall. Telling everyone that their brother is the best baby. I swear those two could compete a rock into a coma.”
“Teena? You sure about that?”
He chuckled. “She’s definitely over her jealousy. I think it is because she is the only one Holt didn’t cry at. Uh … you sure you’re okay with the name I chose? I know you didn’t want …”
“Holt is a good compromise for Holtzinger. It is like Ford’s shortened name, the one he now prefers.”
“Yeah. I wish Celeste wouldn’t …” He shook his head and then asked me carefully. “Are you better?”
Slowly, more than a little ill at ease, I nodded. “I can’t promise not to have another nightmare, but I should be okay. I … I think it is just being here and having that blasted interrogator show up. How the heck did he know?!”
“I called her. The Woman. She said they found some more evidence. The one we are calling the interrogator was only supposed to deliver a message to you from her to be on the lookout for reporters. The Woman is on it and will let us know if there is anything more to it than someone working on some brownie points for advancement.”
“When can we go home?”
My tone startled him. “Babe?”
“Home. I want to go home.” I didn’t want to sound as needy as I did. I didn’t want Winn to worry. He’d had reason to a few times. That night wasn’t the last one that Captain Dunn made an appearance. A couple of times … let’s just say that only my promise to Winn is what got me home. One memorable week he’d had to come and find me. I’d gotten injured in a hand-to-hand fight, and slipped off the trail and down into a crevice. After a week I’d been thought dead by everyone but Winn. It was a close thing, and it was after that, and after a peace treaty had been signed with several of our country’s enemies, that Winn and I gave serious consideration to what we wanted to do with our lives. Giving Teena and Rutherford a sibling turned out to be one of them.
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“Babe? Babe. Edie. It’s okay. You’re home. And … um … Holt is smacking his lips and still refuses the bottle even though it has … er … your milk in it. He’s just getting mad.”
I woke up and took the baby into the bed with me. “He’s like Teena. A pig. And he wants what he wants when he wants it and how he wants it.” Newborn or not, Holt knew what to tug on to get at his feed trough.
“Sorry,” I said. “How long has he been crying. I didn’t hear him. Did he wake you?”
“He wasn’t crying. And even if he was he was upstairs. I think it was me cooking chili that set him off.”
“Chili?” I asked completely confused. “Why are you fixing chili for breakfast?”
“Uh … it’s after lunch and Uncle Dakota and Monty stopped by.”
When that penetrated I tried to sit up but Anchor Holt kept me down and refused to turn loose. The kid really is a Hoover and heavy as a boulder even at just a couple of weeks.
“I … I gotta …”
Winn said, “You don’t gotta anything. I wouldn’t have woke you up except he doesn’t like any of the nipples I tried.”
“And he won’t. Not until he is probably ready for a sippy cup. You remember how Teena could be.”
He got a besotted look on his face and said, “Yeah. But I didn’t know her at this stage. Man Holt is a pig.” Regardless of the words there was so much love that not even Holt could have taken exception.
I was having a harder time coming back than expected. The longer I was in the town’s medical center the more off I got. It wasn’t just the hormones, it was just all of it. Too many people, too much noise, everyone in our business. I’ve gotten out of the habit of people. The mountains and the woods was where I stayed, where I belonged. I got the occasional visitor, but it was still Winn that was more of a people person than me.
It has taken a while to get my energy back out of the negative range. Needing something to do I’ve put the last touches on the Rigorous and Beatrice Dunn family tree, with citations. The sister of the man we still call Chief even though he retired last year, was ecstatic to have it. She’s adding pictures and all of the physical documents and their locations, but she suggested that we should wait a bit to turn in Beatrice’s journals to the town library, maybe a generation or two. Yeah, the Dunn’s are still like that and probably always will be.
I also reread all my old journals and notes to keep myself from being bored silly and destructive. That was harder and there were times I wished I’d never started, but in the end I think it has been good for me. Good for Winn’s Edie. And good for Captain Dunn as well. Not sure if I will destroy them or keep them for perpetuity. Sort of like my version of Beatrice’s ledgers. The first half of my story is fine. It’s the later half that makes me cringe, maybe always will.
I can look out the window since Winn has taken down the black out drapes. We don’t need them any longer. War is over … or this war is over, and I hope I’m too old to participate in the next one. Please Creator let that be true. We’ve mostly got our country back, but I have a feeling if we don’t keep an eye on things … well it’s just better to be safe than sorry even if some people do scoff at the need to remain so vigilant.
It’s Spring, not much different than that night. The Woman and I did a search and destroy and nearly died in the process. Would have if a twig snapping hadn’t given the ambush away. There was more than one still unaccounted for. There hadn’t been two platoons, there had been three. The Woman later told me that it was another Kerry, this one a sister. She was a real viper. It wasn’t me that took care of her. The Woman has her own pains and needs to make sure some things were atoned for.
We lived. We never did find the private that had given the false information, but The Woman reported his handlers had and had then left him in pieces in a field several states over for failing his assignment. It took dental records to identify him.
Yes, that is the kind of people they were. And some of them are still like that, though they’ve lost their citizenship and may never step foot on US soil … or the soil of its territories. All of those that want to remain our allies have similar – if not harsher – prohibitions. See, they reckoned without just how ruthless The Woman and Captain Dunn could be. No one was making it so I couldn’t go home, regardless of where in the world they hide. I knew what a monster I would be if I couldn’t. The Woman came to learn. So did my enemies … those men and women who plotted against the freedoms and securities we have in this country, that plotted to take home away from me.
I still define home different than most people but I don’t care. Winn understands. That’s all I need. Though for his and the children’s sakes I do at least try to hold onto my humanity. Some days that is easier than others.
Looking at Holt … and Teena and Rutherford who now prefers to be called Ford … I can say it is getting easier. Winn is most definitely helping it to be better. I couldn’t always say that. Maybe with the war over it will get even easier still, that time will heal the wounds from Fort Lee. I’m hoping that means that Captain Dunn can finally rest. Please Creator, let it be so.
The End