As I watched the wagon and its assorted characters approach, mixed feelings were fighting their way through my mind. Relief that Helga was back, apparently unharmed, was kept company by something almost like rage that she had placed herself in harm's way by taking off like she had. Bewilderment was there as well, along with a small amount of humor at the ridiculous sight the menagerie made as they made their way along. But overall, I think what I was feeling most was overwhelmed. I'd never known a man could be paralyzed by struggling with so many different emotions at one time.

I stood transfixed as the wagon rolled to a halt. Before I could form a coherent thought, or make any sound beyond "uh", Abe stepped forward to help Helga and her passenger down from their perch. When Helga was safely back on her feet, I finally managed to get my own unstuck from the ground and rushed forward to wrap my arms around her. I held her tight for a moment, overcome with relief that she was back safe and sound. But soon, all those pent up emotions came crashing back through me and planted my foot in my mouth. I pushed Helga back and held her at arm's length as the words began tumbling out of my mouth without stopping by my brain for instructions.

"What in God's name did you think you were doing? Where have you been? Do you have any idea how worried we've been? You could have been killed! There are dangerous wild animals out there! There are dangerous people out there! Are you crazy? What were you thinking. Have you lost your mind?”

I may have said a few more things, all in a very loud voice, but I couldn't really keep up with all of it. Through it all, I somehow failed to notice that Helga was looking less than pleased with me. As my tirade finally wound down, I slowly became aware that she was standing with her arms crossed, her foot tapping, and with a decidedly annoyed look on her face. After a brief moment of simmering silence she snapped,

"I know what I'm doing. Help unload the wagon." Then she stomped off in high dudgeon.

She stalked over to the creature in the buckskins and floppy hat. As I cautiously approached, I realized that it was an old Indian woman with long white braids and skin as dark and wrinkled as a walnut.

I could see Abe was no less upset than I was, but I guess he had more experience dealing with Helga, or maybe women in general, than I did. He was standing stock still, looking a bit bemused, but managed to keep silent. He collected himself after a minute or so, and walked to the wagon to lift out what I now saw was a pregnant nanny goat. I decided it would be best not to ask why it had been brought along.

I would later learn that the Indian woman was the widow of a much-respected medicine man from a local tribe of Utes. She called herself something that sounded like "Oota" and had learned some English from a missionary who had lived with her people for a while She also had a very bossy manner. After raking an unimpressed glance over me she pointed at the wagon, said "cradle", then walked into the cabin carrying a bundle wrapped in skins.
 

When I carried the cradle into the cabin I found Oota waving burning sage around as she walked along the walls and across the floor. She even made a few passes around me with the smoldering herbs. Abe got the same treatment when he walked in. As she walked, I could hear her chanting in a language I'd never heard. I could only assume that she was trying to rid the cabin of evil spirits, or maybe bugs. At least I hoped that was what she was doing.

Then Helga bustled in, barking orders like a seasoned Drill Sergeant.

"Don't just stand there! The wagon won't unload itself. Look at this place! It's a mess. What were the two of you doing while I was gone? We need to get everything cleaned up.” She stopped and placed her hands on her hips and demanded,

“Well? Do I have to do everything myself?"

I had heard that pregnant women could get a little grumpy and unpredictable. I didn't have much experience with the phenomena myself, but I found myself wondering. Just what on Earth had happened to my sweet, loving wife. And, perhaps a more important thought was, am I going to survive this?

We managed to settle into a routine again as Oota became a valued member of our little household. She was a bundle of energy and seemed determined to keep us all busy, getting everything sorted out to her satisfaction. Her no-nonsense, take charge attitude soothed my nerves somewhat as the baby's arrival approached. As the baby grew, Helga's increasingly restless sleep had me taking to sleeping outside on the porch, or in the stable if the weather turned bad. It was the only way I was able to get any rest at the time.

Just before dawn one day,  I woke to the sound of screaming. For one terrifying moment, I was back at Chancellorsville, laying wounded among the dead, listening to the agonized screams of the maimed, and hoarse moans of the dying. As I shook off the dregs of sleep, I realized where I was and rushed into the cabin. I found my way blocked by Abe and Oota. Oota  was telling Abe he was not needed, that he should go outside. When she spotted me, she scowled and said sharply, while making shooing motions with her hands. “Baby come. You, outside! Both you, outside. No good here.”

I could still hear Helga screaming from the little room in the back where our bed was. I stood, frozen in place, not sure which way to move. Then Abe seemed to shake himself out of his own paralysis, and took my arm.

"Jess,” he said. “Maybe best if we see to das animals.”

There was a worried, almost scared look to his face. I wasn't sure what to make of that. He'd always seemed so calm and sure of himself. Except, of course, when it came to dealing with Helga. Oota gave me a push about then, just as I heard Helga curse for the first time in my hearing.

“Damn you Jess Harper, this is all your fault. Where the hell are you? I'm gonna kill you! You hear me?”

I made up my mind right then and there that I did not want to be in that cabin. Abe and I made tracks for the door at a smart pace, nearly running into each other at the door.

After seeing to the stock, Abe and I waited on the porch, trying to ignore the noises and screams coming from inside, and pretending we weren't worried. It had been twelve hours since we'd been jerked awake, and we were both praying everything was alright. I'd heard stories about women who'd died in childbirth, and others about how the baby didn't make it either. I knew these thoughts were not helpful, but I could not seem to make them stop.

Then, after one last long, drawn-out screech, silence fell abruptly. The sudden quiet was soon interrupted by a loud wail. After a few more minutes, Oota appeared in the doorway smiling.

“Mr. Jess, come see you bay-bee. Miss Heel-ga good.”

I was apprehensive walking inside. After all the screaming I'd heard earlier, I wasn't sure what to expect. To my surprise, Helga was sitting up and smiling, with the baby lying beside her. She looked like she'd been through the wringer, completely worn out. But I'd never seen a more beautiful sight. I strained to hear as she whispered hoarsely,

“What should we name her?”