Unexpected

Prologue

The cries of pain that had filled the night suddenly halted. Silence enveloped the large ranch house as the man in the kitchen stopped pacing and turned his wide-eyed gaze toward the shadowed staircase.

He waited.

And waited.

He stepped toward the stairs, heart hammering in his chest.

And then the wail of an infant pierced the silence. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He was a father! The baby was alive and well by the sound of it's healthy lungs. He began to make his way up the stairs, eager to meet his son or daughter for the first time and kiss his lovely wife for bringing their baby into the world. She'd done so well and here they'd had doubts of the babe's well being—

A dark shadow descended from the top of the staircase. He looked up to find Doctor Prescott standing in his path, face grim and grayish in the dim lantern light.

"I'm sorry, son. She's— There was nothin' I could'a done."

"No!" The new father bolted, bounding up the stairs two at a time. He shoved past the doctor and strode into the bedroom only to freeze in the doorway when his eyes met the lifeless form lying on the bed.

Sarah's eyes were closed, but he could imagine the bright life he'd once found there had been leeched away by death. The doctor and midwife had covered her with the red and white checkered quilt that was normally kept at the foot of their bed. Sarah's mother had given it to them on their wedding day as a gift, saying it had been passed down for three generations, bringing each couple that possessed it a long, healthy life together...

Tears filled his eyes at the sight of his young wife, lying dead upon the bed they'd shared every night for the past three years. Slowly he approached her, trails of tears streaking his cheeks as he knelt by her bedside and grasped her hand between his own shaking palms.

"Sarah," he pleaded, his voice breaking with every syllable he managed to murmur . "Please, wake up." He knew, no matter how many times he pleaded with her, she would not come back to him. No matter what he said or how much he needed her, she was gone. There was no way for her to come back.

Three short years, they had shared, only to be ended like this. He'd been worried about the health of the babe, when he should have been thinking of Sarah all along.

"S-Sir," stuttered the midwife who had been standing aside. She came closer, holding a writhing bundle of blankets in her arms.

The father furiously swiped his tears away, but more poured down as he hurried to his feet. He wished no one had seen him like this, but his heart was a storm of emotions he couldn't control. Every breath he drew shuddered in his chest. Every second was agony. He was ashamed by his weakness. Sarah had suffered the pain of childbirth and then the pain of death, yet here he was, falling apart already when she had not been gone but mere minutes.

The midwife shifted the bundle into his trembling arms, speaking so quietly he almost didn't hear her say, "You have a healthy little girl."

Brown eyes peeked open to stare back at him. His daughter shared his eyes. What had she inherited from her mother? He brushed back the blanket to see a head of thick dark hair, like Sarah's, and silently thanked God above for at least this small honor to his wife. No doubt, this tiny being in his arms would grow to be as beautiful as her mother. It would be a agonizing reminder every day of his life, but he wanted to be reminded.

"S-Sarah would have... would have been happy that she h-has my eyes— She said she wanted— S-She wanted..." He stumbled for words.

"I'm so sorry, Sam," Doctor Prescott said, resting a hand on the broken father's shoulder. "I... wish there was more I could'a done."

A part of Samuel wanted to blame this on the doctor, just to have somewhere to direct his agonizing grief, but he knew that wasn't right. Doctor Prescott had warned them months ago that there could be complications with the delivery. "It'll be alright," Sarah had said to him. "Mam never had any problems birthing my brothers an' me. She says we'll be just fine."

"What are you gonna name this lil' angel?" asked Doctor Prescott, offering a pained smile.

He had trouble concentrating. He and Sarah had discussed names on several occasions. Samuel recalled the way she had blanched when he'd jokingly suggested the name Edgar should they be blessed with a boy, just to see what her reaction would be.

"Oh," he murmured, attempting to arrange his thoughts into order. "Sarah said she— She liked the name Grace. I want to name her Grace. Sarah would have liked that."

Samuel Martin, well known ranch owner outside of the town of Blackwell, stared down at his newborn baby girl, the latest member to the Martin family. He then glanced at Sarah, his wife of three short years, the woman he'd come to love as his best friend and life partner even though when they had wed it had not been for love at all.

She had been taken from him at the same time that his daughter had been given to him.

Shifting the tiny baby in his arms, Sam sat down beside his dead wife and reached out a hand to brush back her auburn locks, still damp with sweat from giving birth to the squirming, mewling little being cradled to his chest. "She never even got to meet her..."

A/N: And here's the beginning of my latest story! It's off to a very sorrowful start, I know, but I promise it'll get better. This is short because I wanted it to be a prologue. I thought this scene deserved it's own place apart from the rest of the story. It just felt right. I hope to update more regularly with slightly shorter chapters than I had for Blackwell, just so things move a tad bit faster. Let me know what you guys think of this so far! How do you think Sam will cope with the loss of his wife and the addition of a baby? We'll see how it plays out.  

Also, I found the picture for the cover on Pinterest. It does not belong to me. I couldn't find quite what I wanted. Caroline has blonde hair, instead of brown, but I really liked that photo, so I chose it anyway for the cover.