Читать книгу Christmas Trio B - Debbie Macomber - Страница 23

“No, please,” Mary Jo said, looking at Grace and her family. “I want you to go to the Christmas Eve service, just like you planned.”

“Are you positive?” Grace seemed uncertain about leaving her behind.

Mary Jo had bowed to their entreaties and been their guest for a truly wonderful dinner, but she had no intention of imposing on them any further that evening.

“I am.” There was no reason for them to stay home because of her, either. This crazy adventure of hers was over; she’d admitted defeat. Her brothers were on their way and she’d be back in Seattle in a couple of hours.

“I’d like to meet those young men,” Grace said. “But it sounds as if they’ll get here while we’re at church.”

“You will meet them,” Mary Jo promised. “Sometime after Christmas.” In one short afternoon, she’d become strongly attached to both Grace Harding and Cliff. Her two daughters, her daughter-in-law, their husbands and the grandchildren had made Mary Jo feel like part of the family. They’d welcomed her without question, opened their hearts and their home to her, given her a place to sleep, a meal, the comfort of their company. In this day and age, Mary Jo knew that kind of unconditional friendship wasn’t the norm. This was a special family and she planned to keep in touch with them.

While the fathers loaded up the kids and Cliff brought his car around, Grace lingered.

“You have our phone number?” she asked as they stood by the front door.

“Oh, yes. Cell numbers, too.” Mary Jo patted her pants pocket. Grace had carefully written out all the numbers for her.

“You’ll call us soon.”

Mary Jo nodded. Grace was like the mother she’d lost—loving, protective, accepting. And now that she was becoming a mother herself, she valued her memory even more profoundly. It was Grace who’d reminded Mary Jo of everything her mother had been to her, of everything she wanted to be to her own child. Even though her baby wasn’t born yet, she felt blessed. She was grateful for everything her pregnancy had brought her. A new maturity, the knowledge that she could rise to the occasion, that she had the strength to cope. This brand-new friendship. And, of course, the baby to come.

“If your brothers are hungry when they get here, there are plenty of leftovers,” Grace was saying. “Tell them to help themselves.”

“Thank you.”

Cliff parked the car closer to the house and got out to open the passenger door. Still Grace lingered. “Don’t hesitate to phone if you need anything, understand?”

“I won’t—and thank you.” Wearing her coat like a cloak, Mary Jo walked outside with her into the clear, beautiful night. Snow outlined the branches of trees, and the air was crisp.

“Wait in the house,” Grace said.

“I’ll be fine in the apartment. It’s comfortable there.”

The two women hugged and Grace slid into the car next to her husband. Maryellen, Kelly and Lisa, with their families, had already left for the church.

Grace lowered the window. “Thank you for being so patient with Tyler,” she said, giving her an apologetic look.

Mary Jo smiled, completely enchanted with the six-year-old who’d received a drum for Christmas and had pounded away on it incessantly.

“He’s a talented little boy.” In fact, she loved all of Grace and Cliff’s grandchildren.

“Now go inside before you get cold,” Grace scolded.

But Mary Jo remained in the yard until the car lights faded from sight. Then, pulling her coat more snugly around her, she strolled toward the barn. Several of the participants in the live Nativity scene were inside a corral attached to the barn and she went there first.

“Hello, donkey,” she said. “Merry Christmas to you.”

As if he understood that she was talking to him, the donkey walked toward her until he was within petting range. Mary Jo stroked his velvety nose, then walked into the barn.

“Hello, everyone.”

At the sound of her voice, Funny Face stuck her head over the stall door.

“Hi there,” Mary Jo greeted the mare. “I hear you’re very special to Cliff,” she said. Funny Face nickered loudly in response.

Apparently curious about what was causing all the commotion, the camel poked her head out, too. “Sorry, camel,” Mary Jo called, “but your reputation has preceded you and I’m not giving you a chance to bite my arm.”

After several minutes of chatting with the other horses, Mary Jo washed her hands at a sink in the barn and headed up the stairs to the apartment. About halfway up, her back started to ache again. She pressed one hand against it and continued climbing, holding on to the railing with the other.

When she reached the apartment, she paused in the middle of removing her coat as she felt a powerful tightening across her stomach.

Was this labor?

She suspected it must be, but everything she’d heard and read stated that contractions began gradually. What she’d just experienced was intense and had lasted several long, painful seconds. Another contraction came almost right away.

Mary Jo checked her watch this time. Three minutes later there was a third contraction of equal severity.

Only three minutes.

At the class she’d attended, she’d learned that it wasn’t uncommon for labor pains to start at fifteen-minute intervals. Perhaps hers had started earlier and she hadn’t noticed. That didn’t seem possible, though. How could she be in labor and not know it? Except … there were all those family stories about her mother and how a dizzy spell always signaled the onset of labor. A dizzy spell like the one she’d had at the library …

The next pain caught her unawares and she grabbed her stomach and doubled over.

“That got my attention,” she announced to the empty room.

Not sure what to do next, Mary Jo paced, deliberating on the best course of action. Her brothers were due any moment. If she told them she was in labor the second they arrived, they’d panic. One thing Mary Jo knew: she did not want her three brothers delivering this baby.

None of them had any experience or even the slightest idea of what to do. Linc would probably order the baby to wait until they could get to a hospital. Knowing Mel and his queasy stomach, he’d fall over in a dead faint, while Ned would walk around declaring that this was just perfect. He was going to be an uncle to a baby born on Christmas Eve—or Christmas Day, depending on how long this labor business was going to take.

Three minutes later, another pain struck and again Mary Jo bent double with the strength of it. She exhaled slowly and timed it, staring at her watch. This contraction lasted thirty seconds. Half a minute. It wasn’t supposed to happen this fast! Labor was supposed to go on for hours and hours.

Mary Jo didn’t know what to do or who to call. Her mind was spinning, her thoughts scrambling in a dozen different directions at once. She considered phoning Grace. If she was going to give birth here, at the ranch, she wanted a woman with her—and she couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather have than Grace Harding. But Grace had left just a few minutes before and the only way to reach her was by cell phone. Unfortunately, as she’d learned earlier, coverage in this area was sporadic at best. And she hated to interfere with the Hardings’ Christmas plans.

The second person she thought of was Mack McAfee. He’d been so kind, and he was a trained medical technician. He was calm and logical, which was exactly what she needed. He’d called—when was it? Half an hour ago—and urged her to go home with her brothers. There’d be plenty of time to talk to Ben and Charlotte Rhodes after the baby’s birth. Her brothers wouldn’t have the opportunity to confront David or his father now, anyway, and she’d manage, somehow or other, to prevent it in the future, too. While she was speaking with Linc, she’d realized how desperate her brothers had been to find her. Mary Jo hadn’t meant to worry them like this.

If Linc or Mel or even Ned had reasoned with her like Mack had, she would’ve listened. Too late to worry about any of that now.

Mary Jo went back down the stairs to the barn. She didn’t want to dial 9-1-1 and cause alarm the way she had with her dizzy spell at the library earlier, so she decided to call the fire station directly.

The barn phone was the same number as the house. Sure enough, when she picked up the receiver she saw that Caller ID displayed the number of the last call received—the firehouse. Mary Jo pushed the redial button.

On the second ring, someone picked up. “Kitsap County Fire District.”

Relief washed over her at the sound of Mack’s voice. “Mack?”

There was a slight hesitation. “Mary Jo? Is that you?”

“Ye-es.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I … Grace and her family left for the Christmas Eve service about ten minutes ago. I didn’t go because my brothers are on their way here.”

“They haven’t arrived yet?” He seemed surprised.

“Not yet.”

Mack groaned. “I’ll bet they’re lost.”

Mary Jo didn’t doubt that for an instant.

“I’m sure they’ll be there anytime,” he said.

“I hate to bother you,” she whispered and gasped at the severity of the next contraction.

“Mary Jo!”

Closing her eyes, she mentally counted until the pain sub sided.

“What’s wrong?” he asked urgently.

“I’m afraid I’ve gone into labor.”

Mack didn’t miss a beat. “Then I should get out there so I can transport you to the birthing center.”

At the rate this was progressing, he’d better not lose any time. “Thank you,” she said simply.

He must have sensed her fear, because he asked, “How far apart are the contractions?”

“Three minutes. I’ve been timing them.”

“That’s good.”

“I didn’t take all the birthing classes … I wish I had, but David said he’d take them with me and it never happened. I went once but that was just last week and—”

“You’ll do fine. If you want, I’ll stay with you.”

“You?”

“I’m not a bad coach.”

“You’d be a wonderful coach, but you have to remember I’ve only had the one class.”

“Listen, instead of talking about it over the phone, why don’t I hop in the aid car and drive over.”

“Ri-ight.” At the strength of the last contraction, Mary Jo was beginning to think this was an excellent idea.

“Where are you?”

“In the barn at the moment.” She gave a small laugh.

“Why is that funny?”

“I’m with the animals from the live Nativity scene.”

Mack laughed then, too. “That seems appropriate under the circumstances, but I want you to go to the house and wait for me there.”

“I’d rather go back to the apartment if you don’t mind.” It was hard to explain but the place felt like home to her now, at least for this one night.

“Fine. Just don’t lock the door. I’ll be there soon, so hold on, okay?”

She didn’t have any choice but to hold on. “Okay. But, Mack?”

“Yes?”

“Please hurry.”

“You got it. I’m leaving now.”

“No sirens, please,” she begged, and Mack chuckled as if she’d made some mildly amusing joke.

Walking seemed to help, and instead of following Mack’s instructions, she paced the length of the barn once, twice, three times.

She noticed that the camel was watching her every move. “Don’t be such a know-it-all,” she said. She’d swear the creature was laughing at her. “This isn’t supposed to be happening yet.”

A sheep walked up to the gate, bleating loudly, and Mary Jo wagged her index finger. “I don’t want to hear from you, either.”

All the horses in their stalls studied her with interest, but the only one who looked at her with anything that resembled compassion was Funny Face.

“Wish me well, Funny Face,” Mary Jo whispered as she started back up the stairs. “I need all the good wishes I can get.”

Absorbed in the cycle of pain and then relief, followed by pain again, Mary Jo lost track of time. Finally she heard a vehicle pull into the yard. A moment later, Mack entered the apartment, a second man behind him. They were both breathless; they must have run up the stairs.

Mary Jo was so grateful to see him she nearly burst into tears. Clutching her belly, she walked over to Mack and said hoarsely, “I’m so glad you came.”

“How’s it going?”

“Not … good.”

“Any sign of your brothers?”

She shook her head.

Mack glanced over his shoulder at the second EMT. “This is Brandon Hutton. Remember him from this morning?”

“Hi.” Mary Jo raised her hand and wiggled her fingers.

“How far apart are the pains now?”

“Still three minutes, but they’re lasting much longer.”

Mack turned to the other man. “I think we’d better check her before we transport.”

“I agree.”

This was all so embarrassing, but Mary Jo would rather be dealing with Mack than any of her brothers. Mack would be impersonal about it, professional. And, most important of all, he knew what he was doing.

Taking her by the hand, Mack led her into the bedroom. He pulled back the sheets, then covered the bed with towels. Mary Jo lay down on the mattress and closed her eyes.

“Okay,” Mack announced when he’d finished. “You’re fully dilated. You’re about to enter the second phase of labor.”

“What does that mean?”

“Basically, it means we don’t have time to take you to the hospital.”

“Then who’s going to deliver my baby?” she asked, fighting her tears.

“It looks like that’ll be me,” he said calmly.

Mary Jo held out her hand to him and Mack grabbed it in both of his.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” he said with such confidence she couldn’t help believing him. “You can do this. And I’ll be with you every step of the way.”