by Linda Warren
Colter glanced at the clock and reached steadily for the string.
“Colter, is he okay?” Marisa asked in a faint voice. “Is he breathing? Colter, tell me!”
“Yeah, and it’s definitely a boy.”
“Tie off the umbilical cord,” the doctor said. “The baby will be bloody and grayish, but don’t worry about that.”
Colter let out a long sigh of relief. He’d noticed the color, but everything was fine.
“It’s done,” Colter told him.
“Put him on Marisa’s chest.”
He placed their son on her chest and gazed at her face.
“Oh, he’s so beautiful and so perfect,” she whispered, her hands trembling against the small body.
“Take a towel and rub him vigorously all over.” The doctor was still giving orders.
Colter began to rub him, and Marisa helped. Suddenly the baby started to cry loudly.
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Dr. Gates said.
“Oh, oh, oh,” Marisa cooed to him. “It’s okay. Mommy’s here.” She kissed his face and touched his head, his stomach, counted his fingers and toes—and then she began to cry. She had her baby and no one would ever take him from her. In her weakened state that was all she could think about.
“Wrap the baby up. Keep him and Marisa warm.”
Colter pulled a blanket around Marisa and the baby. He rested his face against hers. “How are you?”
“Wonderful and tired, but no one’s taking this child. No one.”
“Honey…”
Marisa grimaced.
“What is it?” Colter was immediately on the alert.
“I’m cramping.”
“That’s okay,” the doctor said, still on the phone. “The placenta’s coming out. Colter, reach down and gently tug on the umbilical cord.”
He did. “Everything’s out.”
“Good. Congratulations! You have a son and you both did great.”
Colter kissed the side of Marisa’s damp face. “You were great.”
“Look at him, Colter, just look at him.” Her voice held awe.
“I am. He looks a lot like Ellie.”
“Does he?” Her voice wobbled, and he knew she was remembering Ellie’s birth.
“I love you,” he said, and she rested against him and smiled into his eyes.
“Hey, you two. I’m still here,” Dr. Gates teased.
The baby began to squirm, moving his head as if he was searching for something.
“He seems hungry,” Colter commented.
“He probably is. You can nurse him, Marisa.” The doctor’s voice was very clear.
Marisa opened her gown and the baby latched on, sucking hungrily.
“Colter, can you see him?” Marisa asked. “He knows exactly what to do.”
“I see, honey. He’s a Kincaid.”
Marisa stared into her husband’s eyes and knew that nothing in her life would ever match this moment—the moment of giving birth with her husband’s help and then holding and seeing her child.
There was a clatter at the door just then. The paramedics came through and immediately took over. Colter gave her a kiss and moved from the bed, letting them take care of Marisa and the baby. Tulley hurried down the hall.
“Everything okay?” he asked sounding concerned.
Colter nodded. “He was born at 12:05 a.m. He’s a Christmas baby.” His body shook with all the emotions he was feeling, and Tulley put an arm around his shoulders.
“You all right, boy?”
He nodded again. “I’ve delivered foals before, but this is the first time I’ve helped deliver a baby—my own baby. It’s a little overwhelming.” He brushed away a tear. “Where’s Ellie?”
“Talking to Mrs. Preston on your cell phone.”
Colter looked down and saw Marisa’s blood all over him. “I have to clean up for the trip to the hospital. I have clothes in the utility room, so I’m going to take a shower. I won’t be long.”
In less than ten minutes he was back. As he got clothes for the baby and handed them to the paramedics, Ellie ran up to him.
“Daddy, Grandmother wants me to call her as soon as the baby comes.”
Before Colter could answer, the paramedics emerged from the room. “Your wife refuses to go to the hospital, so I’ve checked her and the baby, and everything seems to be fine. I spoke with the doctor and he’s agreed to let her stay home for Christmas, but he wants her and the baby in his office first thing the day after Christmas.” The paramedic looked down at the papers in her hand. “On your digital scale, the baby weighs seven pounds, fifteen ounces, and is twenty-one inches long. Did you by any chance get the time of birth?”
“12:05 a.m.,” he said.
“Good. Your wife gave us his name. She’s taken a shower, and we cleaned the baby per the doctor’s instruction. We also changed the bed. We don’t usually do that, but it’s Christmas.”
“Thank you. And Merry Christmas.”
The paramedics left, and Colter entered the room with his daughter. Marisa was sitting up holding the baby who’d been wrapped in a blue blanket with pictures of ropes and spurs on it. She smiled, and Colter kissed her and then his son, now sound asleep.
Ellie stood staring with big eyes. Marisa looked at her. “Come meet your new brother.”
“Are you okay, Mommy?”
“I’m fine, baby.”
“I’m not the baby anymore,” Ellie said moving closer to the newborn.
Marisa smiled at her. “You will always be my baby.”
Ellie nodded happily and sat by Marisa, staring at her new brother. “Now you have two babies, Mommy. Can I touch him?”
“Yes, but very gently.”
Ellie caressed his cheek with one finger. “He’s so tiny and cute.”
“Yes, he is.” Marisa kissed the top of his head. “Now I’d like everyone to meet this young man. His name is Jackson Aaron Colter Kincaid. We’ll probably call him Jack.”
There was no question about what his first name would be. Colter wanted to name him after Tulley, and Marisa was fine with that. Aaron was her father’s middle name, and the fact that she was able to call her son after her father meant the old wounds had healed. The scar tissue was still there, but it couldn’t hurt her anymore. She’d forgiven her parents completely—and she prayed that she and Colter would never make decisions that would hurt their children.
“Lordy, lordy,” Tulley said, his eyes filled with tears.
They hadn’t told him what they were naming the baby. Colter had wanted to wait until the baby was born.
“You’re crying.” Ellie pointed at him.
“Yep, I guess I am.” He cleared his throat, hugged Colter and kissed Marisa’s forehead. “Thank you.” He deftly took the baby from her. “Hi there, little buckaroo. I’m gonna enjoy getting to know you.”
“Time for everyone to get to bed,” Colter intervened. “Or Santa’s going to miss this house.”
Ellie shook her head. “Santa’s already been here. He brought us Jack.”
“It’s still time for bed,” Colter said, smiling.
Ellie gave lots of kisses. Tulley handed the baby back to Marisa and gathered up the dirty laundry. “I’ll put this in the washing machine.”
“Oh, no. I forgot. I gotta call Grandmother,” Ellie said, and ran to her room, Sooner on her heels.
And then it was the two of them with their son. Colter went into the baby’s room and brought the Christmas cradle, which he placed beside the bed. “Time for Jack to get some sleep, too.”
“No. I want to hold him for a little longer.”
Colter gently brushed back her damp hair. “Honey, no one’s taking this baby.”
“I know—it’s just—”
“You’re afraid you’ll wake up and he won’t be here,” he finished for her.
“It’s crazy, I’m aware of that, but I can’t shake the feeling.”
“With what you’ve been through in the past, I think
it’s a normal reaction.” He kissed her softly. “Trust me. This baby isn’t going anywhere.” He lifted Jack out of her arms and laid him gently in the cradle.
Marisa shifted onto her side, watching him. “So many times over the years, I’ve looked at this cradle in Dalton’s and imagined our baby in it. It’s kind of surreal to actually have it happening.”
Love brightened his eyes. “Have I told you how wonderful you are?”
She nodded, her eyes closing as exhaustion overtook her.
He looked at his son for a moment, knowing he’d witnessed another miracle, then slowly went to put out Ellie’s gifts. First, he checked to make sure she was asleep—and she was. He got the gifts from the attic in the garage and arranged them under the tree. As he was about to turn out the light, he noticed a piece of paper lying on the table next to Santa’s cookies and milk. He picked it up and read:
Dear Santa,
My friend Lori says there is no Santa Claus, but I believe. Even when I get as old as Daddy, I’ll still believe ’cause you brought my mommy home and you gave us a brand-new baby. Everybody’s happy. Thank you, Santa Claus. I believe.
Love,
Ellie Kincaid
A smile tugged at his mouth. Yes. They were happy—finally. He drank the milk and took the cookies, along with the letter, to show Marisa. He stopped when he entered the bedroom. Marisa was asleep on her side, one hand on the cradle.
When he lay down by his wife, she let go of the cradle and curled into him.
I believe, too.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8199-2
THE CHRISTMAS CRADLE
Copyright © 2004 by Linda Warren.
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