by Rita Hestand
Chapter Nine
"Why didn't you tell me all this before, Clint?" Emma gasped with dismay as Clint watched her pouring him a cup of cocoa.
"It doesn't matter. It's water under the bridge. Her daddy told me to keep my hands off her, and I did. It's that simple. Ross was her father; she worshipped him. If I'd have crossed him, even Abby wouldn't go for that."
"Nothing is that simple." Emma stomped across the kitchen floor, and put some more water on the stove.
Rusty and Jake sat quietly listening to their brother, but there seemed to be something new in their faces now, as though they suddenly understood their brother, and respected him.
"Ross had a pretty mean temper. Nobody messed with Abby. Clint wasn't the only one that was warned." Deke informed them all as he took a cup of cocoa from Emma's hands.
"You can say that again," Cal agreed, as he came into the kitchen, and joined them at the table. "I never cared for Ross, and Judy knew it. You know, it's a shame to say this, but once that little gal got big enough to wear his shoes, he sorta left Judy behind. But I always thought Judy was kind of special. But Ross—Why he ran off every cowboy that looked twice at Abby. Clint's the only one he ever trusted enough to work around her. But he sure had a blind spot where Bud was concerned. It was Bud he should have worried about, if he'd had a lick of sense. Glad I had boys to raise; girls are just too complicated. Except, of course, Sammie Jo, she's special."
Clint nodded. "I think Duke must have taken care of that."
"It's a wonder Abby had a life of her own," Rusty broke in.
"But surely after a while, Ross could have seen how much Clint really cared for Abby." Emma protested their acceptance of the situation.
Deke shook his head and put his hand on Clint's shoulder. "Nope, by that time Clint had convinced not only Ross, but everyone else around, that they were best buddies, not lovers."
"Yeah, including Abby."
Emma shook her head, and plopped down into a chair beside Clint, "He should have seen your good intentions after a while, though. The very fact you kept your word should have impressed the heck out of him."
Cal shook his head. "Nothing ever impressed Ross but Ross, and maybe Bud."
Jake who was usually the quietest of the Travers men shook his head. "No sir, not Ross Martin. He never shared what was his. Part of why the rest of us quit helping him much. He was one hell of a narrow-sighted man."
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. That's all water under the bridge. Abby is getting married, and my courting days are over." Clint said, getting to his feet, taking one last sip of hot cocoa, and going toward his room.
"It's a crying shame," Emma murmured as she touched her husband's shoulder. Deke gathered her close, and nodded.
* * *
Abby stood frozen in the shadows on the porch. She'd heard every word, and couldn't believe it. Clint had wanted to date her? It seemed impossible.
No, she wouldn't believe it. But how could she not? She had heard the entire conversation. Her father had kept them apart—until that night.
Something inside her wanted to deny the possibility of it being true. She'd worshiped her father when he was alive, and now, to hear this!
Judy saw her and stood very still for a moment. "You heard?"
Abby couldn't do anything but stare for a few seconds. "I can't believe it."
"Well, believe it. It's the truth, Abby. Your father—"
"I won't believe it." Abby stomped toward the door. "Don't talk that way about dad; he's not even cold in the grave—"
"Clint's always loved you, Abby. And I suspect he always will. The truth can't be changed just because your father died. You have to go on with your life. You can't spend it living for a man that's not here any longer," Judy said, and walked past her, leaving her to wonder.
Abby couldn't go inside just yet. She needed to sort through her feelings. Get hold of herself. It was too much to take in.
All those years. All those years of silently longing for Clint to love her, and he had! It seemed absurd to even contemplate it.
How could she have not known? Why hadn't he spoken up if he loved her so?
And then it hit home! He had, that night in the barn— And again the other night. He had loved her like no man ever had or would again.
***
"It's snowing," Sammie Jo jumped up and down at the window, and ran to her mother with a big smile on her face. "It's going to be a white Christmas after all, Mama."
Emma cradled Sammie Jo against her. Her frown mirrored her worry.
"Don't worry, Mama, Daddy will be back soon."
Emma smiled, despite the dull pains going through her at the moment. "It's not your daddy I'm worried about, it's your Uncle Clint." Emma said rocking back and forth.
"He's such a hard head."
"What's a hard head, Mama?" Sammie Jo asked. "Someone who won't listen to anyone," Emma grumbled.
"Why, Mama? Is something wrong with Uncle Clint?" Sammie Jo's blue eyes crinkled with a slight frown.
"He's just going to ride a silly ole bull in the middle of a blizzard that could—" Emma stopped, looked at her daughter's expression, and wiped away her own expression of worry. "No, darling, Uncle Clint will be just fine."
"Why does Uncle Clint ride those old mean bulls?" Sammie Jo asked.
"'Cause he's a darn fool, that's why." Papa Cal said, as he grabbed himself a cup of coffee and started out the kitchen. "I'm gonna talk some sense into that boy, yet."
"Nothing will stop him, Cal," Emma warned. "I think he's bent on self-destruction."
"Don't be too sure of that," Cal called, as he headed straight for Clint's room.
Emma stood up from the table, and suddenly bent over in pain.
"Oh, no—not now!" She clutched herself for a second. And waited.
The pain subsided quickly, and she drew breath. Even though it had been happening all night, she hadn't suspected it was her time until now.
But minutes later, she was standing at the stove, and it hit her again, only a little harder.
Sammie Jo came running into the room, laughing at something her Papa had said, when she saw her mother bent over.
"Mama?"
"Go get your Papa and Uncle Clint, honey."
Sammie Jo watched her mother in horror as she screamed at the top of her lungs.
Cal and Clint came bounding down the hall, "What's going on in here?" Clint demanded, just before he spotted Emma holding on to a chair for dear life.
"Tell me it's not time?" Clint's expression looked ominous as he held onto his sister-in-law.
Emma glanced at him, a slight sign of panic in her face. She tried to straighten, and then her water broke all over the kitchen floor. She moaned aloud.
"Oh, God, are you in pain?" Clint echoed his own thoughts. A bead of perspiration lined his upper lip, just thinking about it.
"No, but I just mopped that floor this morning."
Emma groaned, staring at her floor.
"Well, don't worry about the floor, for God's sake!" Cal went to get their coats.
Sammie Jo tried to hug her mother, but Clint pulled her away, "Let's let Mama alone right now, honey. We've got to get her to the hospital. It's time for the baby."
"We're going to have the baby now?" Sammie Joe looked at her mother seriously.
"'Fraid so, darlin'." Emma cooed at her daughter, and straightened. "Now, don't be afraid, darling. I've told you it will all be fine, and it will."
"But daddy's not home yet." Sammie cried.
"Don't fret about that, I'll go get daddy, and you can come with me." Cal said, calmly taking charge of the little girl.
"Okay, Papa. ‘Bye, Mama, will you bring me a little brother, like Clay?" Sammie asked.
"I'll do my best, pumpkin. Be a good girl for your Daddy and Papa, won't you, dear?"
The little girl nodded and ran off with her grandfather, looking back at her mother once to reassure herself everything would be alright.
"I'll get your bag, Emma, you stay put." Clint went to her room, and found the suitcase packed and ready to go.
Emma was always one to prepare, and he was thankful. He'd been concentrating on that bull all day, and it was hard to shift gears, but this was an emergency.
Nothing seemed to matter but the moment, to Clint. He quickly forgot his bull ride. He forgot everything because his favorite sister-in-law, his only sister-in-law needed him right now, and that was all that mattered.
Emma looked so pale as he helped her up into the truck seat. And she was unusually quiet, too. He shook the ominous feeling crawling up his back. He knew what to do. No need to panic. Deke and the rest of the family had practiced what they might do if Emma went into labor while Deke was away. Of course, at the time, no one had thought this would happen, either.
The truck sputtered a bit as he pulled out of the drive, but Clint decided that was only because it needed a set of plugs. He'd tend to that tomorrow, his mind wandered as he shot Emma another worried glance.
At least traffic wouldn't be bad in this weather. But it was a good hour's drive into town.
She looked so frail and little, all huddled into one beautiful pregnant ball. She was so quiet, and Emma was never quiet around him.
Instinctively he reached over and took her cold hand in his. She glanced up at him and tried to smile. She must have read his expression, for her next words shocked him.
"It's our first time, isn't it Clint?" She managed just before another pain hit her.
"Hey, isn't that a little close together for a first baby?" Clint asked, glancing at his watch again.
"I didn't know you were timing them." Emma massaged her tummy. She practiced her breathing, too.
Clint watched her every move.
"Deke taught me all about it." Clint answered, without taking his eyes off the road. He couldn't; the snow was an inch deep, and there was ice beneath it. The roads were slick and treacherous. Still, he kept driving, bent on getting Emma to the hospital.
"Who'd have thought my big powerful cowboy could learn so much about having a baby? He's read that darn baby book more than I have, I think." Emma groaned aloud as the pain eased.
Strange, unwanted thoughts crossed Clint's mind as he tried to concentrate on the road. Had it been like this for Abby? Could he have been help to her? Of course he could. He should have been there for her. She shouldn't have had to go through that alone.
Still, Clint knew the best thing to do today was concentrate on getting Emma to the hospital. He'd think about Abby later.
He couldn't have picked a worse day for a trip to the hospital. The four-wheel drive kept them from sliding as badly as the few cars that were on the road, but the engine was sputtering as though it were about to conk out. Dear God, he didn't need that. He couldn't have car trouble on the way to the hospital. He just couldn't.
But as sure as he thought it, things began to happen. Suddenly, the windshield wipers froze up and wouldn't move. Clint muttered something under his breath, and explained he'd have to pull over and clear them so he could see. Emma nodded and said very little.
Emma was trying to act as though everything would be alright.
That feeling inched up his back as he got back inside the truck and tried to start it. It barely turned over. Clint silently fumed. This just couldn't be happening.
Emma seemed to recognize the fact that the truck wasn't going to start, and put her hand on top of his fist.
"Don't worry, Deke should be by any time now, and he'll take me on in."
Clint shot her a not too relieved look. "Yeah, you're right. He'll be along any minute now, if I know my brother."
But he did know his brother, and he gauged the weather, too; this was not good. Still, he had to put on a confident face for Emma.
"Sure, can we keep the heater going without running down the battery?"
"For a while, hon." He threw his arm over the seat, and grabbed a blanket that he kept for just such emergencies. "Here, you cover up and stay warm."
"Thanks, what about you?" She asked, with a worried little frown knitting her brow. It was just like Emma to think of him. He'd come to love her as much as his brothers. She was family, and family always took top priority.
"Don't worry about me. I'm a big tough cowboy. I don’t need anything," he grinned at her.
Emma leaned against the door, and snuggled deep into the wool blanket. Although she pretended everything was okay, the strain was showing on her face.
"Say, you didn't stage this just so I wouldn't ride that bull, did ya?" Clint wanted to distract her a little.
"I'd thought of it, yes," she admitted. After a long silence, she glanced at him again. "You know Deke went to that auction today to keep from trying to talk some sense into you, don't you?"
"I figured as much. Mighty big of bro," Clint said with a laugh.
"Don't give up on Abby yet, Clint. I'm sure this is all gonna work out. You don't have to break your neck to get her attention, you know." Emma panted a little.
"Now, don't be fretting about me, Emma. I'll do fine."
"Yeah, about like me?" Emma asked. "Guess we'll both do okay." Clint frowned.
That eerie feeling that they were honestly stuck hit Clint in the head again, and he got out and looked under the hood.
It was an action he quickly regretted. He hadn't put enough antifreeze in to accommodate the latest weather blast, and he was sure that was part of the problem. The plugs were bad, and he couldn't be sure what else until he got in there and tore it apart. He almost felt like doing it, but this was neither the time nor the place. Yet having a pregnant woman in his truck was enough to make a man do things that were a little crazy. Especially when that pregnant woman was about to give birth.
A cold blast of wind blew across his neck, and he pulled his collar up.
He glanced down the road, but it was totally abandoned. Where was Deke? Surely he hadn't taken the back road to the hospital. But Clint knew he had. Deke would take the shortest route to get there. And he'd be there before Emma.
Damn, his family was depending on him, and he was screwing it up, royally.
Since when did a weatherman get it right in Texas?
But this time, they had hit the nail on the head; this was the worst snow and ice storm in Texas history.
He heard Emma groan, and knew she was having another pain. He tried to think about all the things Deke had taught him about this kind of thing, but his mind drew a blank. All he could think about was how much pain she was in, and how he was going to help her.
If he thought she'd be alright, he could walk to get some help, but he hated the thought of leaving her here, knowing she was about to have a baby. Even though he hadn't the slightest idea of how to help, he had to be here for her.
Maybe he was panicking. Maybe Deke was on his way right now. It was just taking him longer because of the weather. Sure, that was it. All he had to do was sit tight and take care of Emma until Deke arrived.
"Clint," Emma called through a cracked window, her voice just the least bit overwrought.
"I'm right here, hon." Clint reassured her, coming around to the door again, and looking at the face of anguish.
"Clint, I'm going to have to lay down in the seat. Is that alright?" Emma cried.
"Sure, hon, whatever makes you feel better." Clint was quick to appease her.
"Get inside, Clint, before you freeze to death," she begged him.
"Yeah, okay. Scoot down, and put your feet in my lap, Emma."
He helped her raise her feet, and saw she was breathing as though another pain had hit her. It couldn't be another pain; they were coming much too fast. First babies were supposed to take forever. He'd read that for himself– the night he'd found out he was a father.
"First babies take forever, so we've got plenty of time." Clint tried to reassure her.
Emma gulped loudly and turned her face away. "Well, Clint, I've been having these pains for hours. They hadn't been
bad up until my water broke."
"God, Emma, why didn't you say something sooner?" Clint nearly shouted at her.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want anyone to panic."
"Too late. And as much as I love you, Emma, I've never delivered a baby in my life."
"We'll be okay, Clint." Emma tried to reassure him.
Twenty minutes later, and still there were no cars on the road. Clint glanced at his watch again. The pains were every two minutes now.
Deke had taken the back roads, Clint knew it. Now he began to realize just what a fix they were in.
What the hell was he supposed to do now? He'd never been through this before. This wasn't his child. If anything, he should have been with Abby. Oh, God, he couldn't think about Abby right now. He couldn't compare the situations.
Strangely enough, it was that very thought that sobered him completely. If it were Abby, he'd want the guy with her to do all he could for her. He knew that much, so he had to do all he could for Emma, and hope it was enough.
An hour later Emma was in real pain, and had removed part of her clothes. In their rush, they hadn't thought of her changing clothes, only getting her to the hospital. She looked up at Clint, and again tried to smile.
"Clint, I'm sorry about your truck. Looks like it's going to get a lot worse before it gets better. Because we're going to have a baby together here."
Clint's face was white with fear; he felt the sweat breaking out. "I know, Emma. And I want you to know. I'm going to do everything I can to help you. But you may have to tell me what to do, a little."
"Boil some water," Emma said, with a half-hearted chuckle.
"Okay, funny face, that's not funny." Clint shook his head. "How can you even think of being funny at a time like this?"
"Beats screaming," she cried.
Clint looked into Emma's eyes, and smiled, "Darlin' if you want to scream, have at it."
But he hadn't planned on the piercing scream that echoed through the truck like a volcanic eruption a few seconds later. And he hadn't planned on the panic setting in, either.