"Gabriel."
He leaned closer.
"I'm here."
She shook her head.
"I'm afraid."
His throat tightened.
"I know."
She swallowed.
"What if something happens?"
For a moment, he couldn't speak.
Then he looked directly at her.
"Let's listen to Martha and take this one moment at a time."
Clara nodded.
He kissed her forehead.
Then remained beside her.
The hours seemed endless.
Outside, the storm battered the house.
Inside, the fire burned.
Jasper waited beneath the kitchen table.
And Gabriel Morrow, who had spent years believing he'd never be a father, stood beside his wife while she struggled to bring a child into the world.
Near midnight, Martha's expression changed.
She looked toward Clara.
Then gave a reassuring smile.
"You're nearly there."
Clara began crying.
"I can't."
Martha took her hand.
"You've come this far. Listen to me."
Gabriel leaned closer.
Clara looked toward him.
Her eyes were filled with exhaustion.
For a moment, he thought about every fear she'd carried since Missouri.
Every night she spent wondering whether someone would take her child.
Every time she hid her pregnancy beneath a shawl.
Every tear she'd shed because she believed nobody would stand beside her.
He felt something fierce and tender rise inside him.
He kissed her forehead.
Then whispered, "Come on, Clara."
She looked toward him.
His voice broke.
"Let's meet our baby."
For a moment, her expression changed.
She took a breath.
Then nodded.
And with Martha's guidance, she continued.
A little later, a sharp newborn cry filled the room.
Gabriel went completely still.
For a moment, he didn't understand the sound.
Then Martha smiled.
"A girl."
Clara began sobbing.
Gabriel stared.
A girl.
A little girl.
For years, he'd imagined the sound of a child crying inside his house.
He had buried that dream after the doctor's diagnosis.
Now the sound filled every corner of the room.
Martha cared for the baby and completed the necessary immediate checks.
The child was small but vigorous, with tiny fingers, a full head of soft hair, and a cry that seemed far too powerful for such a little body.
When Martha placed the baby safely against Clara, the young mother began crying harder.
She looked down.
Then kissed the baby's forehead.
"Hello, sweetheart."
Gabriel stood beside the bed.
Unable to move.
Clara looked up.
Her face was exhausted.
Beautiful.
Filled with wonder.
"Gabriel."
He swallowed.
She smiled through tears.
"Come meet your daughter."
The words struck him so deeply that he had to grip the bedpost.
For a moment, he couldn't breathe.
He looked toward Martha.