Judith Wall - The Surrogate

“Since you obviously just had a baby, I can sign this form as ‘certifier.’ If I had delivered the baby, I would be ‘attendee.’ But either way, it’s all legal and aboveboard.”

“Do I have to list the father’s name on the birth certificate?” Jamie asked.

Mae shook her head. “No. If you had a husband with you, I’d be required to report his name, but otherwise, I can just leave that line blank. Okay, now, what is your full name, dear?”

“Janet Marie Wisdom.”

Mae looked up. “There’re some Wisdoms over Goodwell way. You any relation to them?”

“Actually, I was born in Goodwell.”

“That so,” Mae said, studying Jamie’s face.

Jamie’s heart skipped a beat. She should have driven on to the next county before looking for a midwife. Or found a less common family name to borrow. Goodwell was too close to Guymon. Mae probably knew most of the families in this county.

“Okay,” Mae said, returning her attention to the form. “Mother’s birthplace-Texas County. Baby’s birthplace-Texas County.”

When she asked Jamie her date of birth, Jamie told her the date on the long-dead three-year-old’s tombstone.

Mae paused again, regarding Jamie over the top of her reading glasses for several heartbeats before returning her attention to the form. “So, what are you going to name the baby?” she asked.

“William Charles Wisdom.”

The midwife wrote down the name. “Okay, Janet, I’ll send this in the morning. You can get a copy of the official birth certificate from the state health department.”

Jamie asked to use the bathroom before leaving. When she returned, Mae had carried the baby into the living room and was copying down something from the Bible on the coffee table.

Loaded with booklets on infant care, useful addresses, foiled-wrapped slices of banana-nut bread, and a bottle of orange juice, Jamie asked the midwife how much she owed her. Mae shook her head. “I know what it’s like to be in an abusive relationship. You can pay me by taking good care of yourself and little William.”

“Billy,” Jamie said. “I named him for my father, and everyone always called him Billy.”

“Billy Wisdom. Now, that’s a right nice name.”

“I can never thank you enough,” Jamie said, her eyes misting over.

Mae opened her arms and Jamie stepped into them gladly. “I know, honey, it’s been rough,” Mae said soothingly, patting Jamie’s back. “But you have your health and a fine baby boy. And it would seem that you’ve taken the necessary precautions to keep the boyfriend from tracking you down.”

Mae handed Jamie some tissues. She blew her nose then bent to lift the baby from the infant carrier.

“No, you take that along with you,” Mae said. “I have a base for it that turns it into a car seat. I keep a lookout for used ones. And baby clothes. You’d be surprised how many mothers get caught unprepared.”

“I’ll send you money someday,” Jamie said. “I promise I will.”

“Never you mind,” Mae said. “You just take good care of yourself and little Billy.”

Mae put on her coat and carried the base out to the car. “Oh, your poor little dog,” she said when she saw Ralph. “You should have brought him inside.”

Ralph raced around the yard while Mae helped Jamie clear a place in the backseat and install the base for the infant seat. Once Billy Wisdom and his carrier were securely fastened in place, Jamie hugged Mae once again. “I’d all but forgotten that there were good people in the world,” she admitted.

“Lots of good people,” Mae said. Then she reached inside the pocket of her coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “My maiden name was Wisdom. I’ve written down the names, birth dates, and birthplaces of Janet Marie Wisdom’s parents. You’re going to need this information to get a copy of her birth certificate and apply for a Social Security number in her name.”

“I am…I am so sorry,” Jamie stammered. “I didn’t know what else to do. The baby’s father comes from a very rich family. I was afraid that…”

Mae held up her hand. “No need to explain, and you can rest assured that if anyone comes around here looking for you, they’ll get a blank stare from me. The good Lord is looking out for you, honey. He took you to little Janet’s grave then turned right around and directed your path to her great-aunt’s house. She was a sweet child and much loved. Use her name well.”

For a moment Jamie thought her knees were going to buckle. “I will,” she said. “I promise that I will.”

GUS LOOKED OUT the window as the plane banked for a landing. The freshly cleared airstrip stood out starkly against the white landscape.

His kingdom was laid out below him, with Hartmann land as far as the eye could see-a sea of snow-covered land. He remembered Grandpa Buck saying that a man could never have too much land. The more land a man owned the more important he was.

He could see the little cemetery where his grandfather, father, and Sonny were buried. And Montgomery’s stillborn baby.

He’d always known that Montgomery worshipped his grandfather, but somehow it had never occurred to Gus that they might have been lovers. Poor Montgomery. How sad she must have been when her baby didn’t live. Had his grandfather also been sad? Or just relieved?

Kelly met the plane.

“More bad news,” she announced as she pulled away from the airstrip. “Jamie Long had the baby.”

Kelly drove him to what once had been the McGraf farm. Gus went in and looked around. At the blood-soaked mattress. The thick pile of ashes in the fireplace. Trash left by previous visitors. No fresh trash, though. Jamie had cleaned up after herself and taken it with her.

He pointed at the mutilated second mattress. “What’s the story on that?”

“Probably she used the stuffing for kindling.”

He noticed something shiny sticking out from beneath the bloody mattress and bent to pick it up. It was a small pair of scissors. Not nail scissors. Larger than that and of better quality. He carried them over to the window. They were engraved with vines and flowers.

“She probably used those to cut the cord,” Kelly said.

Yes, she would have had to do that, Gus realized. It was hard to imagine a woman being alone at such a time-a young woman who’d never given birth before. And with all that blood. She must have been very frightened.

What had made Jamie Long leave the ranch, Gus pondered. What things had she deduced on her own, and what things had his mother told her? Surely the girl realized that Mary Millicent was as crazy as a loon. But not always. Sometimes she understood exactly what was going on. Sometimes she played them for fools. Gus knew that she could walk. When the Mexican gardener had carried her down the stairs to Sonny’s room, he noticed that the bottoms of her house shoes were scuffed.

“I remembered one of my men saying that he’d pointed out the McGraf farm to her,” Kelly said. “I drove up this morning to take a look.”

Gus wanted to be angry. Wanted to yell at Kelly and tell her she should have looked here first. But this wasn’t the only deserted farmhouse on the ranch. He’d paid the back taxes on at least a half dozen of these small spreads and had the occupants evicted. He didn’t like the property of no-count dirt farmers backing up to Hartmann land. Didn’t like their animals wandering onto Hartmann land. Didn’t like them using the ranch store and service station and thinking they should be allowed to attend the Hartmann City church. Didn’t like them tapping into the same aquifer with their wells. Didn’t like them observing the comings and goings at the ranch.