“Thank you.” Sadie was overcome with their kindness. “You have all done so much for me, for us.”

  “That’s our job,” Jordan said. “Yours is to keep your girl warm and fed.”

  Momma took the bundle of baby, and Jordan placed a plate with egg and toast on her lap.

  “Have you chosen a name?” Jordan asked.

  Sadie nodded while she chewed the bite of food in her mouth. The egg was delicious, from her hunger or the cooking she didn’t know.

  “With Heinrich’s approval, I would like to call her May, after his mother,” she finally said.

  “What a sweet name,” Jordan replied. “I will think of her as May unless you tell me otherwise.”

  Naomi spoke. “She is too early to suckle directly. Every two hours we are going to get one or two spoonfuls from you and slowly pour it into May. Understand?”

  May. Sadie liked to hear the sound of her name. It made it real, as if she was a person who would continue to exist in the world.

  “Will she ever be able to?” Sadie asked.

  Naomi exchanged a look with Jordan. It was slight, but Sadie saw it.

  Jordan said, “I’m sorry, but we just don’t know what to expect.”

  Sadie nodded, biting her lip to hold in her fear and sorrow.

  “Each day we will check to see if she has the strength to suck on our fingers. When she does that, we’ll know she can suckle right from you. In the meantime, we are going to keep pouring food into her for as long as it takes,” Naomi explained. “Ready?”

  Sadie nodded.

  “Lisbeth, can you watch so you can help her with this too?” Naomi asked.

  Momma agreed.

  They’d done this twice since the birth. The first time, soon after May emerged, the little one eagerly swallowed the thick liquid. But the second time, the baby couldn’t be woken up. Sadie wasn’t confident any drops of liquid made it into her belly despite Naomi’s reassuring words about it slipping down even though they could not hear her swallowing, and they could see milk spill out of her lips.

  Sadie sat up. Naomi surrounded her with pillows and blankets. She placed May diagonally across her chest, using gravity to support her tiny body, leaving Sadie’s right arm free and one breast exposed.

  “Would you like to extract the colostrum?”

  Sadie nodded.

  “I’ll hold the spoon,” Naomi offered.

  It took a few tries, but soon Sadie was successful. It was not so different from milking the cows and goats on the farm when she was young. She was encouraged as the spoon filled and she poured the liquid into the teacup.

  “More?” Sadie asked.

  “Yes,” Naomi instructed.

  After Sadie had filled the spoon again, Naomi said, “I will rub her cheek. When she wiggles, pour a tiny amount onto her lips.”

  The spoon poised by May’s mouth, Sadie waited. Naomi’s finger gently stroked against May’s skin. She didn’t respond.

  “Come on, baby,” Naomi said. She reached under the blanket and tickled the baby’s ribs. Then she returned to the cheek.

  May jerked her head toward Naomi’s hand.

  “Now.”

  Sadie poured a drop into the fold of May’s lips. A pink tongue poked out and licked the shiny liquid. Relief filled Sadie.

  “Perfect,” Naomi crooned to the baby. “You are a smart girl. Pour another drop.”

  Sadie did, and May licked it off again. They repeated the process, with Naomi tickling May if she drifted off to sleep. The process took nearly an hour, but eventually they got those two teaspoons, plus more from the other breast, into the fragile infant.

  “It’s looking good!” Naomi said. And this time Sadie believed her. Maybe this little girl had the strength to survive.

  “Lisbeth, can you help her in an hour?”

  Momma nodded.

  “I’m going to get some sleep,” Naomi said.

  “You can sleep in Sadie’s bed, or mine. Malcolm is leaving them made up so we can get our rest whenever we can.”

  Naomi gave Momma a skeptical look.

  “Willie says he’ll stand up to anyone who complains. It’s his car and he decides the rules. He’s already defended his decision to keep Sadie in here until we get to Oakland.”

  Naomi nodded. “It will be nice to lie down flat. Thank him for me if you see him before I do.”

  “Thank you, Naomi.” Sadie’s voice came out croaky. “For all of this. For everything.”

  Naomi smiled. “I’m glad I was here. May sure is precious. You both get some well-earned rest—for a bit.”

  Three days later Jordan carried in breakfast for Sadie. The three women had provided care for her day and night since May’s birth. One of them had attended to them at all times. Sadie had left the smoking car only to use the bathroom.

  Sadie sat up. She passed May into Jordan’s arms and took the plate. Through the soot on the window, water sparkled. Home. I’m home. With a sudden longing she ached to be in her own house, her own bed.

  “Is that the Pacific Ocean?” Jordan asked, wonder in her voice.

  “No,” Sadie said. “It is the San Francisco Bay. You have to go all the way across San Francisco to see the Pacific.”

  “Is it hard to get there?” Jordan asked.

  “You take a ferry across the water. Then walk all day or take a cart to the ocean,” Sadie explained. “Or you can take a boat from Oakland through the Golden Gate to the ocean. It’s a long journey but so worth it. You can’t see the land on the other side. Only the powerful waves rolling in from far away, crashing over and over again on this shore.”

  “That sounds nice,” Jordan said. She got lost in thought and then added, “My mother asked me to toss her shell into the Pacific Ocean. After we are settled, I’ll make the journey.”

  Jordan’s face filled with pain. She looked older, and vulnerable. Sadie hurt for her.

  “I’m sorry, Jordan. I’ve been so preoccupied, I haven’t asked how you are adjusting,” Sadie said, feeling as if she’d been a selfish child. She remembered the underlying sorrow that lived in her after her father’s death, so close she discovered it at all times.

  Jordan’s eyes welled up with tears. “It’s hard to imagine I will ever adjust to living without her.” She shrugged, and then changed the subject. “All done?”

  Sadie searched for the right words, but finding none, she nodded. Jordan passed May back, took the plate, and left them alone. Sadie sighed and said a quick prayer for Jordan.

  Last night she’d fed May without the spoon. She wanted to try again. She drew up her gown to get nourishment for her daughter. A bit of white was mixed in with the clear liquid. Milk was coming in. Sadie soared with joy. Amazingly, her body knew what to do to keep her little one alive.

  She unwrapped May and tickled her to consciousness. The girl’s eyes opened. Sadie rubbed her cheek and put a drop of liquid directly onto her lips. May’s tongue darted out to take in the food. Drop by drop, Sadie gave her daughter what she needed. By the time they were finished, the train was passing Emeryville.

  She whispered to her daughter, “May, we’re home. You get to meet your poppa. He’s going to be so surprised—and happy.”

  Sadie wanted to believe that Heinrich would be instantly delighted, but he was never one for surprises, even when they were delightful. She might have to give him a few days to make the adjustment, especially since he had had no time to prepare.

  As soon as the station came into view, Sadie scanned the crowd for Heinrich’s familiar face. Naomi interrupted the search before Sadie saw her husband.

  “To keep her warm on the journey through town, I think we should have her right next to your skin.” Naomi looked at her for confirmation. Sadie nodded.

  “Thank you,” Sadie said. “She would have . . .” Sadie’s heart was in her throat. May would have died without Naomi. She was certain of it. She was overwhelmed with gratitude but didn’t want to start crying.

  Naomi smiled, accepting the unspoken appreciation.

  Closing the shade for privacy, Sadie bared her chest while Naomi wrapped cloth around them both. It was sweet to have May so snug and secure next to her, almost like she was safe inside again.

  She buttoned a dress as high as she could and put a coat on top. The summer fog was thick, and the sun had yet to burn it off. May slept through the process. Her eyes were closed tight, and her sweet face nestled against Sadie’s skin, barely poking out between the folds of fabric.

  Sadie allowed herself to picture only happiness on Heinrich’s face when she showed him what was hidden under the bulge. He was coming to the station expecting two people and would be collecting three. She expected he would be taken aback by the news and then utterly delighted that their dream of becoming a family had been realized. Knowing him, he’d appreciate the efficiency.

  Naomi left them alone, giving her time to rest before facing the bustle of life off the train. Sadie looked at the little room where May had been born. Thank you, she thought to herself; it was strange to thank inanimate walls and a couch, but she was grateful for them too. She had birthed and then fallen in love with her daughter in this space. She was grateful for its sheltering walls and comforting couch. Sadie imagined that the strong scent of tobacco would forever bring May’s birth to mind. She thought about the journey and wondered if they’d been in Iowa or Nebraska when May was born. Perhaps Momma or Malcolm knew.

  Her mind flashed to the women who had journeyed by wagon, giving birth along the way on the hard ground or a wooden cart bed. Water was so precious they probably didn’t even wash up. She thought of the hastily marked graves of women and infants who didn’t make it out of the plains.

  She shook her head to push away the morbid thoughts. Neither she nor May was coming back wrapped in a shroud. She stood up and left the chamber she would never forget.

  When the train was empty, Malcolm helped her down from the car. It was strange to be walking with a changed body and for the first time in days.

  “I expect Heinrich is waiting with the carriage,” Momma said. “Sit here. I’ll get him.”

  Exhausted already, Sadie was relieved to rest. She rubbed the fabric that covered May’s back and kissed the black hair on top of her soft head. Momma returned alone, shaking her head to indicate that she hadn’t found Heinrich.

  Sadie teared up.

  Jordan said, “We’ll wait with you. It can be difficult to get in and out—especially with a carriage.”

  Naomi asked, “Does he know you were on this train?”

  Sadie looked at Momma, uncertain.

  Momma replied, “We sent him a telegram, but it was one of many. Our plans changed too many times to count. And the telegraph lines have been so overwhelmed. We have no way of knowing if it got through.”

  “If he doesn’t come, we will see you home,” Jordan said.

  “We are so indebted to you for your care,” Momma said.

  Jordan shook her head. “I’m grateful for the joy you brought to Mama’s passing,” she replied. “It is the least we can do.”

  “If Grammy were here, she’d say”—Naomi mimicked Mattie’s accent—“that littl’ one is righ’ where she belongs. She gonna need to eat ’round the clock at first, jus’ like when she was in you. Keep her full of mama’s milk and mama’s love.”

  Sadie smiled at the wisdom.

  “Got that, Momma? You’re going to have to help me now.”

  Momma nodded and patted Sadie’s arm. It was such a comfort to know she wouldn’t be caring for May alone.

  Malcolm came up to them, having finished his duties.

  “Want me to find you a carriage?” he asked.

  “Thank you,” Momma said.

  “Our home is—” Sadie started to explain.

  “I know where you live,” Malcolm interrupted. “I delivered the letter there.”

  “Of course!” Sadie replied. “Excuse me.”

  Malcolm smiled and walked off in search of a ride. So much had happened between that letter and now. It hardly seemed like Malcolm was the same person as the stranger who had knocked on her door last spring.

  Two hours after she left the sanctuary of the smoking car, Sadie pulled up to her home, shaking with fatigue. Her body was depleted and weak. She leaned on Malcolm’s strong arm, feeling silly but grateful for his support.

  “Hello?” she called out from the entryway.

  Without waiting for Heinrich’s reply, she started toward the living room.

  “Welcome back, wife,” he called out from his study.

  Sadie sank into the couch. Malcolm left her side to see to the luggage.

  Eventually Heinrich emerged from the study. “I did not realize—” He stopped, perturbed by the scene.

  Sadie searched his face as Naomi helped her to remove her coat, revealing May’s petite face.

  “What . . . ?” Heinrich stammered. “Who? You have a . . . ?”

  “Baby. We have a baby,” Sadie said softly.

  Disbelief covered Heinrich’s face. “I do not understand.”

  “I wanted to tell you the news in person. She came early.”

  Heinrich came close and perched on the couch, staring at the infant, then at Sadie. Was he upset? Her throat swelled up. This was too big of a change to take in at once. She should have told him by telegram. He looked back at the baby.

  “I am stunned,” he stammered out. “Is she? She?”

  Sadie nodded. “Yes. We have a daughter.”

  “She is . . . healthy?” he asked.

  Uncertain, fearful that their daughter was too small, Sadie looked at Naomi to answer.

  “For the moment she seems just fine, Mr. Wagner,” Naomi said.

  Heinrich startled at her voice, but did not acknowledge her.

  Naomi continued, “She’s eating and staying warm enough. In fact it’s time to get more into her. Shall we take you to your bed?”

  Sadie nodded.

  Hopeful that he was simply too overwhelmed to express joy, but afraid she’d misstepped by keeping this information from him, she said, “I’d like to call her May, after your mother.”

  “That would be . . .” Heinrich cleared his throat. “She will like that. It will temper her sorrow that she will not know this grandchild. Do not mistake my quiet. I am happy, so very happy, to have a child at last. It is just a large change to understand all at once.” He smiled.

  Relieved, she smiled back. Tenderness crossed between their eyes. Then, more gently than he had ever been with her, he helped her up the stairs to their bedroom. She could have made it up the stairs using the railing, but she accepted his offer of kindness. Naomi followed.

  Relief flooded through her when she walked across the threshold of their bedroom. The chair, the washstand, her bedside table welcomed her home.

  Heinrich left them in privacy. It took great care for both of them to safely separate May from Sadie. Naomi changed the infant’s diaper to wake her up. Sadie settled into the chair and prepared to feed. Naomi brought a pillow for her arm, laid May across her lap, and made adjustments as needed. The process went more quickly now, and in less than an hour Naomi prepared to leave.

  Sadie’s soul protested at the idea of losing her guide. Of course Naomi would be going to her new home. But Sadie was frightened to be without her care.

  “I will miss you. Thank you,” Sadie exclaimed.

  “Your momma knows what to do, though you may want to hire a nurse as well.”

  “Are you available?” Sadie asked, desire filling her.

  Naomi smiled. “I appreciate the offer. However, I believe you will be better served by a woman with more experience with infants—especially one born so early.”

  Sadie nodded as if she agreed, but disappointment filled her. Naomi didn’t want to be with them. Jordan came upstairs to say goodbye too.

  “Thank you . . . words are not enough,” Sadie said. “But that is all I have. I am so incredibly grateful.”

  Sadie wished she could repay Jordan and Naomi.

  “You are very welcome. Enjoy your May. She’s a blessing to the world.”

  “Please give my appreciation to Malcolm,” Sadie said. “He has done so much for me—for us—virtual strangers.”

  “You and your family are not strangers to ours—even if Malcolm does not know you as well as I do, he still shares the connection,” Jordan replied.

  “Thank you,” Sadie replied. “When May is older, I’d like to take you to the Pacific Ocean. And Naomi and Malcolm as well, if they like.”

  “That would be a welcome adventure,” Jordan said. She leaned in to hug Sadie goodbye and rubbed May’s cheek.

  “I’m going to miss her,” Jordan said.

  “Please, visit often,” Sadie said.

  Jordan nodded but didn’t respond.

  And then Sadie was left alone with her daughter. She looked down at her long and narrow face without a hint of fat. Her closed lids looked bare without lashes. Sadie smoothed her floppy ears back, not yet stiff with cartilage. May yawned and then scrunched up her face. Sadie’s heart grew.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” Sadie said. “I love you already, more than I ever knew was possible.”

  CHAPTER 11

  JORDAN

  Oakland

  August 1894

  Jordan felt melancholy descend upon her as they left Lisbeth and Sadie—and precious May. Caring for them these past few days had given her a focus. Without that, she once again felt the overwhelming ache of loss. Life was an empty tomb without her mama.

  She told herself that they could visit, but she knew it would not be the same. Heinrich did not welcome their presence. He’d pointedly told them he appreciated their service and that he would be hiring a German nurse to assist from now on.

  Jordan’s instinct to protect May had been activated, but there was little she could do now to ensure the infant’s well-being. Jordan was grateful Sadie had the financial resources to get good medical care for the baby.

  Their home had confirmed Jordan’s suspicion about Sadie’s social status. The huge, new Victorian had modern amenities that Jordan had never seen in a private home. Water flowed from taps with a simple turn, and the bathroom had a flushing indoor toilet.