When Breaks the Dawn (Canadian West) by Janette Oke

six months before in a river accident. I prayed that she wouldn’t be asked to give up her mother, too.
    As I looked at the frail child in my arms and thought of what the future could hold for her, my concern over myself and my homesickness suddenly left me. All my thoughts were now on this family, this mother who tossed and groaned before us. What could we do? I began to pray for the mother.
    A faint whimper from the corner interrupted my talk with God. The baby was awake. With one arm still around Susie, I moved toward the corner. The little one was small, with thick black hair framing the tiny face. I reached down to lift him up. As I cuddled him close, the whimpering stopped, but Susie, who still stood close to me, had not stopped shaking.
    “We need to find Mr. Delaney,” I told her. “He might have gone home by now, or he might be at the store. Do you think you can find him?”
    She nodded her head.
    “Put on your parka and your mittens this time,” I said. “It’s cold out and you mustn’t get chilled. I’ll be here with your mother.”
    She followed my instructions, bundled up and then left. I was sure she was running again.
    We did not wait too long before Susie was back with Wynn. He didn’t stop to ask questions but went over to the Indian woman on the corner bed and began to examine her. I still clung to the baby. The little warm body in my arms seemed to give me some measure of assurance.
    “Maggie,” I heard Wynn speak to the Indian lady, “Maggie, do you hear me?”
    The woman only groaned.
    “She sleep now,” said the midwife. “Get rest.”
    “Not get rest, yet,” said Wynn. “She still has a big job left. She has a baby to deliver.”
    “Baby come already,” the midwife informed Wynn and pointed at the baby I held in my arms.
    “Maybe so,” said Wynn, “but now it is time for the brother to come.”
    Twins! I couldn’t believe it. I guess Susie couldn’t either.
    “What does he mean, Teacher?” she asked in a whisper.
    “Your mother is going to have two babies—twins,” I said to her.
    “Like bear cubs?” she whispered, her eyes big.
    I laughed softly.
    “Like bear cubs,” I told her.
    By the time the second baby arrived, and the new babies and the tired mother were properly taken care of, it was no longer Christmas Eve. Wynn and I walked home arm-in-arm over the crunching snow, our breath sending little puffs before us in the cold, crisp night air. The moon shone overhead, and the northern lights played back and forth across the heavens. I wondered aloud about that night long ago, when another child was born on Christmas Eve. It always seemed like a miracle when a new life entered the world, and tonight there had been two new lives and they both seemed well and healthy. Wynn had been wrong, though; it was not a brother. The second baby, much to Susie’s delight, had been a girl.

SIXTEEN
    Winter Visitor
    Christmas Day was still a time of loneliness for me, but I did not feel overwhelmed with homesickness. Wynn and I spent the day before our fire. Our dinner was venison roast and vegetables, with a blueberry pie for dessert. We had planned to go for a walk along the river but the day turned out to be too cold for that.
    We did exchange gifts. We didn’t have much, but each of us had hidden away a few items for future giving when we had come north. With two Christmases, our anniversary and Wynn’s birthday behind us, I was now at the end of my little horde. I wondered what I would do for a gift when Wynn’s birthday came around again. The question nibbled at the back of my mind while I watched him unwrap the new knife which was this year’s present. Perhaps I could find something to purchase from one of the Indian ladies.
    My gift from Wynn brought a gasp of joy. It was two pairs of new stockings. I had mended and repaired the ones I owned numerous times, and I did so hate mended stockings. I found out later that Wynn had ordered them in from Edmonton through Ian’s