by Deb Kastner
He’d always been able to read her like a book. How would he react if he knew the real truth? She’d persistently shoved her feelings behind closed doors and had turned the key in the lock, but she was still afraid that it would take no more than a moment with Zach to make the doors burst open again.
That’s why she’d been dragging her feet, hoping that if she gave herself a little time she’d be more in control of her emotions. Unfortunately, that hadn’t happened.
And it probably wouldn’t.
She picked up the laundry bag and groaned. It was heavier than she’d expected. Her emotions felt the same way—an enormous, awkward burden to carry, much weightier than she possibly could have imagined when she moved back to Serendipity.
She hadn’t realized she’d still have such deep feelings for Zach. But she was strong. She’d get over it.
She would.
Shifting the bag to one side, she reached for the keys in her jacket pocket. Most people in Serendipity didn’t bother locking their doors, but Delia made an exception for the clinic because the pharmacy, such as it was, was located inside.
She’d just turned the key in the lock when the telephone rang. For a split second she considered ignoring it. It was already an hour and a half past normal clinic hours and she was exhausted. Vicki, her receptionist, had left hours ago.
Surely the caller could wait until tomorrow. And if it was a true emergency, they could always call 9-1-1.
But compassion immediately trumped fatigue, as it always did with Delia. This was Serendipity after all. She likely knew the caller. And even if she didn’t, she was the town’s only physician. The least she could do was answer the telephone and find out what the problem was—if there was one. More than likely she’d simply be able to schedule the caller for an appointment in the morning. How much of a hassle could that be?
Having made her decision, she reentered the clinic and dropped the laundry bag just inside the door, racing to reach the telephone before the caller hung up or the call was transferred to voice mail.
“Hello?” she asked on the seventh ring, just barely avoiding the voice mail.
“Yes, ma’am,” a deep, scratchy voice returned. “May I speak to Delia, please? It’s an emergency.”
She recognized his voice immediately. Chance Hawkins had been in a serious car accident years before, which had affected his ability to speak, leaving him sounding low and raspy.
“Speaking,” Delia replied. “Is this Chance? Is everything okay? You sound worried.”
“I’m calling about Phoebe,” he said, his voice even more strained than usual. “She’s in labor.”
“Okay.” Delia eased herself into a chair and lifted her legs, crossing her ankles on the cold, flat surface of the desk. Her feet were aching and it felt good to put them up for a moment. “Do you have a birthing plan? How far apart are the contractions?”
She kept her voice calm and controlled. She wasn’t concerned. In her experience, men had the tendency to panic when their wives went into labor, usually with no good cause other than that they had absolutely no control over the situation.
“We were supposed to go to Mercy Medical Center in San Antonio, only now I’m not sure Phoebe’s going to make it. She’s in a lot of pain.”
Delia smiled indulgently because no one could see it. They didn’t call it labor for nothing. The intensity of the pain caught even the most prepared of couples off guard, both mom and dad alike. This was Phoebe’s first pregnancy, which generally meant hours of labor. Surely they had plenty of time to get to a hospital before the real fun began.
“How far apart are her contractions?” she asked again because Chance appeared to be distracted and hadn’t answered her question.
“I’ve been timing them with a stopwatch,” he assured her. “When they first started they were twelve minutes apart. The doctor told us to head for the hospital when they reached ten-minute intervals because we have so far to travel.”
He took a deep, raspy breath. “We were just about to walk out the door when suddenly Phoebe screamed in pain and crumpled to the floor. I don’t know what happened, but now the contractions are coming one right after the other. She barely has time to catch a breath between them. Aunt Jo took Lucy to a friend’s house a couple of towns over, so she’s not here to help, and I don’t know what I should do. Call an ambulance?”
Halfway through Chance’s explanation, Delia scrambled from her seat and started gathering supplies. She had an emergency medical bag already prepared and stored in the trunk of her car, but that was for general emergencies like cuts and sprains—certainly not childbirth.
She prayed as she went. Talking to God was becoming more natural now—almost as effortless as it had been when she was a teenager. Dear Lord, reassure Phoebe and Chance with Your presence and Your peace.
“Where is Phoebe now?” she asked as she exited the clinic and locked the door for the second time that evening.
“I put her on our bed,” he replied, sounding as if he was the one in agony. “I don’t think I can move her again. It will hurt her too much.”
“Don’t try to move her,” Delia instructed. “Just stay with her and do your best to keep her calm. If you have a moment between her contractions, find her some extra pillows to get her as comfortable as possible and maybe offer her some ice chips.” She thought it might help to give Chance something productive to do while he waited for her arrival.
Chance didn’t answer immediately. Delia could hear Phoebe moaning in the background, and Chance was talking her through the contraction.
“Just remember,” Delia cautioned him when Phoebe’s contraction was over and Chance’s attention was once more on her. “The most important thing for you to do right now is just to stay by her side and reassure her that everything is going to be all right.”
“Is everything going to be all right?”
“Of course,” she said in an encouraging tone. “Women have babies every day. Your little one is just overly anxious to make his or her debut.”
“So you don’t think I should call an ambulance?”
“From what you’ve told me, I don’t think they would be able to get her to the hospital fast enough. You just take care of that wife of yours. I’ll call the paramedics for backup, but I don’t want you to worry. I’ve delivered plenty of babies on my ob/gyn rotation, so I’m experienced with childbirth. Just hang in there for a few more minutes, okay?”
Delia was already halfway to the Hawkins home as she spoke. Fortunately, the clinic wasn’t far from most of the homesteads, and the Hawkins lived just outside of town.
“I’m going to hang up now, Chance,” she informed him. “I have a couple of calls to make before I get to your house.”
Chance assented, but he didn’t sound too sure of himself.
Delia immediately speed-dialed her parents’ house to let her mother know she was going to be late, and to go ahead and feed Riley and tuck him in bed for the night without her.
After she hung up with her mom, she clutched her cell phone to her chest and sighed. This was going to be difficult, but there was no time to be wishy-washy.
She had no doubt she could deliver Phoebe’s baby safely, but she knew Chance would be less than useless if she needed assistance, and he’d indicated that Jo wasn’t there to help.
She needed to call a medic, just to be on the safe side. Besides, they’d need to transport Phoebe and her baby to the hospital after the birth for a checkup.
She needed Zach.
She knew as she dialed the number to the fire department that no one else would do. Zach wouldn’t just lend her assistance, he would lend her strength and encouragement. She was confident in her skills and abilities as a doctor, but she’d been in medicine long enough to know that things often didn’t go
exactly as anticipated. Better to be safe than sorry.
Ben Atwood answered the telephone at the fire department.
“Ben, this is Delia Ivers,” she stated, skipping formalities. “Is Zach around?”
“He’s out right now, but he’ll be back soon. He just went out to grab some spaghetti from his house. We have a bottle of pasta sauce here but not the noodles, and the men are all starving.”
Delia forced a laugh.
“You sound a little tense. Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine,” she assured him. “There’s a bit of an emergency at the Hawkins residence. Phoebe’s gone into labor and it sounds like I may be delivering her right there at the house. I shouldn’t have any trouble delivering the baby, but I’ll need an ambulance to transport Phoebe and the little one to the hospital afterward.”
“And you want Zach to assist with the birth.” It wasn’t a question, and Ben didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “I’ll leave right now and pick Zach up on the way. He’ll be there as soon as I can get him there.”
Ben hadn’t said we’ll be there soon, even though he’d be the second paramedic in the ambulance. She had a feeling Ben understood what she couldn’t put into words.
“Thanks, Ben. I’ll see you.”
Delia hung up the phone just as she pulled into the Hawkinses’ driveway. She grabbed the bag she’d packed for the delivery and then stopped to get her regular medical bag from the trunk. By the time she got to the front porch, Chance had the door open and was waiting for her.
“Point me the way to Phoebe,” she said without preamble.
Chance nearly ran across the family room and down the hallway, stopping at the door to a large master bedroom.
“Phoebe, honey, Delia is here to help with the baby,” he said gently.
As Delia followed Chance down the hallway, she was already mentally reviewing the supplies she’d be needing for the delivery, so she was unprepared for Phoebe’s response to Chance’s announcement.
A shrill, spine-tingling scream.
Chapter Nineteen
Zach had finally found the box of spaghetti he’d known was somewhere in his pathetic excuse for a pantry. He hadn’t realized it was such a mess until he was looking for something specific. Usually he just pushed items around until he found whatever suited his appetite at the moment.
He had just tucked the box under his arm and switched off the kitchen light when he heard the ambulance approaching.
Pure adrenaline pumped through him in what had become a natural physical reaction to the peal of sirens. He’d been a paramedic long enough to associate the sound with action.
Surprisingly—or maybe not so much—his first thought was of Delia and Riley. They lived just up the road a ways. Had they been hurt?
The fact that there were half a dozen other ranch houses between his house and Delia’s didn’t even occur to him. He dropped the box of spaghetti on the table and raced toward the front door, hoping to see which way the ambulance was headed.
He was supposed to be at the station, so he knew they would be shorthanded without him. Ben would need him to follow. He already had the keys to his truck in his hand. He’d have to hurry if he wanted to catch up.
To Zach’s astonishment, Ben pulled the ambulance straight into his driveway. The reflection of flashing red-and-blue lights glared off the front windows of his house. His grinning partner flipped the siren switch off and then on again as he rolled down his window.
“I got tired of waiting for you to get back with the food,” Ben teased.
“Turn that thing off,” Zach said as he climbed into the passenger seat. “Or is there a real emergency I don’t know about?”
“Not an emergency exactly,” Ben explained, turning off the siren and the flashing lights and backing out of Zach’s driveway. “Phoebe Hawkins’s baby decided to show up unexpectedly.”
Zach snorted. “I’d hardly call it unexpected. I saw her at the café the other day and she looked like she was about ready to pop.”
“Well, she’s popping now,” Ben replied with a chuckle. “And apparently the kid won’t wait long enough for his mama to get him to the hospital.”
“So we’re taking Phoebe by ambulance?” Zach asked. “Maybe you should turn that siren back on.”
“Delia should already be there,” Ben replied. “And she didn’t sound overly concerned. But she did think she was going to have to deliver the baby at the house.”
“Alone? Step on it, man,” Zach exclaimed, fastening his seat belt.
Ben laughed but didn’t go any faster than the speed limit. Zach fidgeted in his seat. He wanted to be with Delia now.
“Oh, and by the way,” Ben continued with a smirk, “the pretty lady doctor specifically asked for you.”
His heart lurched almost painfully into his throat despite the fact that adrenaline already had his pulse working overtime. Even just thinking about Delia made him feel a little bit over the edge, in the way that even the thrill of paramedic work could not. With Delia, he wasn’t working to save a life, he was working to save a relationship.
Or at least he would be, when he saw her again, which had not happened since New Year’s Eve.
And he knew why.
Their lives had become too complicated. They wouldn’t have to deal with not being a couple in front of Riley if they were never seen together by him. It made sense, in a Delia kind of way, which was why he was giving her space to figure things out on her own.
And now she was asking for him?
Maybe delivering Phoebe’s baby was more complicated than Delia had let on to Ben. He couldn’t think of any other likely reason for this sudden turnaround. It couldn’t be personal, could it?
Despite trying to temper it down with reason, hope flared like a wildfire in his chest.
The moment Ben pulled into the driveway and put on the brakes, Zach pulled out his paramedic bag and headed toward the Hawkinses’ front door, full speed ahead. He didn’t knock, nor did he wait for someone to come to the door. Because the house was unlocked, he let himself in, knowing both Chance and Delia would be busy with Phoebe.
“Paramedics,” he called loudly as he jogged toward what he hoped was the hallway to the bedrooms.
“Over here,” Chance called back.
Knowing he was going the right direction, he increased his speed. His need to be with Delia was burning in his chest, as was the desire to aid Phoebe, fueled by what was now the true course of his life. He’d become a paramedic to help people, in part to make up for all the hurt he’d caused as a youth.
As he entered the room, he found Chance by Phoebe’s bedside. She held his hand in a death grip, his fingers turning white from how tightly she was squeezing, but Chance was not complaining. He looked concerned, and anxious and at loose ends.
Zach couldn’t imagine watching the woman he loved with his whole heart suffer such torment, even if it was to introduce new life into the world. And yet contrarily he wished he had been there for Delia when she’d delivered Riley, holding her hand like Chance was doing now for Phoebe.
Delia dabbed at Phoebe’s forehead with a cold washcloth. “It won’t be long now, honey,” she encouraged softly. “Just keep your eyes on Chance. He’ll help you breathe through your contractions.”
Zach approached and laid a hand on Delia’s shoulder. “What do you need me to do?”
Her eyes met his, her relief at his presence evident in her smile. “You came.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. Of course he’d come. Besides the fact that he was a paramedic and it was his job to handle emergencies, he would always be there for her, in every situation, no matter what.
“I’m here,” he said, his voice almost as low and ra
spy as Chance’s.
Her gaze turned back to Phoebe. “She’s seven centimeters dilated and fully effaced. She went from four to seven since I’ve been here—about a half an hour. It won’t be long now until she’s ready to push. We need to set up some kind of pediatric station to assess the baby once it’s born.”
“I’m on it, princess,” Zach assured her. “And Ben is right behind me. We’ll have everything ready to go in a jiff.”
“And please call and see if you can get a hold of Jo. I’m sure she and Lucy will want to be here as soon as possible,” she added as she turned her attention back to Phoebe.
“You’ve got it.” He hesitated just for a moment, observing her compassionate bedside manner, which incorporated both Phoebe and Chance. This was always how he had pictured her, serving people through her God-given gift of medical training.
He’d never imagined that he would likewise fill such a role. If someone would have told him when he was a wild-hearted young teenager that he would someday become a paramedic saving people’s lives, he would have laughed in their face.
And look at him now.
Working side by side with Delia, helping to bring the miracle of new life into the world.
He could barely swallow, much less breathe, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, the billowing cloud of joy and wonder.
Smiling inwardly, Zach returned to the ambulance, where he found Ben preparing the gurney. Together, they pulled it out of the ambulance, although they decided not to bring it into the house because the baby had yet to be born.
“Delia would like us to prepare a makeshift pediatric station for her,” Zach told his partner and friend.
“For her?” Ben smirked.
Zach snorted and shook his head. “For the baby. You know what I mean.”
“Sure I do,” Ben replied with a chuckle. “Whatever you say, man.”
Zach reentered the house with Ben right behind him, shaking his head as his partner continued to chuckle.
“I think our best bet is to use their bassinet,” Zach said, turning his attention to the business at hand. “I saw it in the corner of their bedroom. If we can pull it into the hallway, we can set up an oxygen tank on standby.”