“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 muttered. 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.”
15
“Admit it,” Mel taunted, “we’re lost.”
“I said as much thirty minutes ago,” Linc said sharply. He didn’t need his brother to tell him what he already knew.
“We should’ve gotten the Hardings’ phone number,” Ned commented from the backseat.
That was obvious. “You might’ve mentioned it at the time,” Linc snapped. They’d been driving around for almost an hour and he had no idea where they were. Mack McAfee had drawn them a map but it hadn’t helped; somehow they’d gone in the wrong direction and were now completely and utterly lost.
To further complicate matters, a fog had settled in over the area. It seemed they’d run the gamut of Pacific Northwest winter weather, and all within the last eight hours. There’d been sleet and snow, rain and cold. Currently they were driving through a fog so thick he could hardly see the road.
“Read me the directions again,” he said.
Mel flipped on the interior light, which nearly blinded Linc. “Hey, turn that off!”
“I thought you wanted me to read these notes.”
“You don’t need the light,” Ned told him. “I’ve got them memorized.”
“So where are we?” Mel asked.
“You’re asking me?” Linc muttered in frustration.
“Okay, okay.” Mel sighed deeply. “Fighting isn’t going to help us find Mary Jo.”
“You’re right.” Linc pulled over to the side of the road and shifted to face his brothers. “Either of you have any other ideas?”
“We could go to the firehouse and start over,” Mel said.
“Once we’re there, we could get the Hardings’ phone number,” Ned added. “We could call and let Mary Jo know we’re on our way.”
Linc gritted his teeth. “Fine. But have either of you geniuses figured out how to get back to the firehouse?”
“Ah…” Mel glanced at Ned, who shrugged his shoulders.
“I guess we can’t do that because we’re lost.”
“Exactly,” Linc said. “Any other ideas?” He was feeling more helpless and frustrated by the second.
“We could always ask someone,” Ned suggested next.
“Who are we supposed to ask?” Mel cried. “We haven’t seen another car in over half an hour.”