"Did the last time," Moses agreed. "How much you charge for a birthing?"

"How much a healthy child and your woman worth to you?" She didn't like the man, and she wasn't about to make this easy on him, although she wouldn't have turned down his request for help. Not that she expected to be paid. Moses Southern would offer the judge something for her services, as if she were still a slave. Without waiting for an answer, she lifted her chin toward the basket on the table. "That belongs in the wagon," she said. "I have to tell the judge I'm going."

Once in the hall she relaxed a bit, and allowed herself a grin. She liked being called on, and she liked especially the business of helping other women bring their children into the world. This particular woman was one who needed some talking to. It was exactly the opportunity she had been hoping for. Childbed was just the place for some home truths.

The judge answered the knock at his door immediately. When he saw she was dressed to go out, he raised an eyebrow in question. Since his daughter's elopement and, more recently, the realization that Elizabeth was not going to appear in court as she had been requested to do, he had been keeping to himself. There was the smell of brandy about him. Curiosity's nostrils flared, and he drew back a step.

"Mistress Southern's time has come," Curiosity informed him.

"Richard isn't here to attend her."

"No, sir, he ain't." Out in the bush, running after another man's woman, Curiosity thought. And shame on you for letting him go after that daughter of yours.

"Who will cook our breakfast?" He looked down at her blurry eyed. Curiosity could see that he would sleep through the morning and never miss his breakfast; he had been drinking for days. She wondered if she should take the time to talk some sense to this man, and then put the thought aside. Wouldn't do any good anyhow.

"My Daisy will see to it that you and Julian are looked after."

He nodded, and turned away from her. Then he turned back, suddenly.

"Did you know?" he asked. "Did you know about her attachment to Bonner?" It was the first time he had asked her outright.

"She never said his name to me," Curiosity said, looking him straight in the eye.

* * *

In the wagon, she laid a hand on her husband's arm. "Stop by the Witherspoon place."

"What for?" asked Galileo. "What're you plotting, woman?"

She grinned. "Why, a birthing is a long business. I need some help. Thought mayhap Miss Witherspoon would like to lend a hand."

He grunted. "I see through you."

"But she won't," Curiosity said. "Not until it's too late."

"Why not let these people sort things out for they selves

"’Cause," she sniffed. "I cain't. Wait and see, Leo, if it ain't worth our trouble to do what we can for Elizabeth when she ain't here to look after her own interests."

"You think she willing to buy them Glove boys free, you might be disappointed."

"Mayhap I will be," Curiosity said. "But I doubt it. That girl has got a good soul."

* * *

Moses Southern was waiting for them when they pulled up. He looked surprised to see Kitty Witherspoon with them, but just as he was about to comment there was a wavering cry from the dimly lit room behind him and he half turned, looking over his shoulder. His dogs whimpered and pressed close to his legs, and he pushed them off with a curse.

"Are the children here?" Curiosity asked.

He shook his head and gestured with his chin down the track to the neighbor.

"You go on now," she said to him. "Go on over to Axel and set in front of the fire, Mr. Southern. We'll send word over when the child come along."

Moses Southern was surely the sourest human being the Lord had ever seen fit to blow his breath into, Curiosity was thinking. He was looking up at her with his lips sucked right into his mouth, his mean little eyes narrowed down tight. He turned his attention to Kitty Witherspoon, who stood just behind Curiosity with her arms folded and her chin tucked down to her chest.

"Miz Witherspoon, don't you let her go talking no nonsense to my wife, now," he said as he reached behind him for his cap, which he pulled down hard onto his forehead.

There was a look on Kitty's face, just one step removed from disgust. It couldn't have been clearer if the girl had spat on the ground in front of Moses Southern and cursed in his face. But he was looking elsewhere. Curiosity put a long, cool hand on the girl's arm to keep her still.

"Mr. Southern, don't you worry none. When the urge to talk comes upon me, I'll call on the Lord instead."

With a grunt, he turned and stamped away, splattering mud with each kick of his heavy boots.

"That man has got the temperament of a wasp—stung mule," Curiosity muttered as she took her basket from Galileo.

Inside, the small cabin was poorly lit by a sluggish fire that cast shadows in jagged shapes. There were two rooms, separated from each other by a faded calico curtain washed almost to transparency. Near the hearth laundry had been hung to dry: a little girl's dress, some mismatched stockings, a pair of longjohns, more patch than anything else. From the rafters hung a few ragged bunches of wildflowers dried to gray and dust along with the meat and the corn. There was the reek of salt pork and cabbage and vinegar, tallow candles and swaddling clothes left too long without tending. From the door Curiosity could see Martha Southern in bed in the second room, the great mountain of her belly rearing up and dwarfing the round face, streaked with sweat and blotched red and white.