by Mindy Neff
“If need be.”
“Saves having to explain if we get stopped for speeding.”
“Only you get stopped for speeding, trouble.”
EMILY WANTED to change her mind. She didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to go through any more. She wanted to go home.
She’d been wrenched in pain for six hours, was so tired she just wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep for a year.
Which wasn’t an option. Whoever said hospitals were supposed to be quiet out of respect for the sick? She was hooked up to monitors that beeped and carried on and drove both her and Cheyenne nuts.
Her room resembled Grand Central Station, with everyone coming in and out. Chance was there for moral support and appeared to be the only calm one in the bunch.
Dr. Freeman had come in to check on her twice and pronounced that she was progressing nicely, though she did discuss the possibility of a cesarean delivery.
At this point Emily didn’t care how the babies were delivered. She just wanted them out.
And though she’d refused them so far, drugs were starting to sound like a good option.
“Why does the heart rate keep going down?” Cheyenne asked, watching the monitor at her bedside as the numbers ran up and down.
“It’s just another contraction,” Chance told him calmly, resting his fingers on Emily’s wrist, checking her pulse. “You’re doing fine, Emily. Take a deep breath. Breathe through it.”
“Just another?” Emily said between pants. “Do you want to get in this bed? And I am not doing fine!” The pain was like a clawing, snarling beast, clamping its vicious jaws over her abdomen. Multiply the pain of cramps by about a zillion and it still wouldn’t even come close to what she was experiencing.
With the arm that wasn’t attached to the IV, she grabbed for Cheyenne’s hand, squeezing so hard he winced. Good, she thought. I hope it hurts like hell.
“I need some drugs. Cheyenne, tell him to get me something…Oh, damn it.”
“Almost there, sweetheart,” Cheyenne coached.
“Shut up.” She breathed and panted and forgot which breath sequence she was supposed to be doing. Like anybody knew when she was almost there, she thought. The pains were coming closer together, and it was hard to tell when one stopped and the next began.
Why the hell had she ever thought she could be strong about this, get through this without pain-numbing medication?
Never mind that Chance’s explanation of the epidural had scared the stuffing right out of her. More than pain, Emily hated needles!
The pressure was increasing and her emotions were escalating toward outright terror. She didn’t want these babies popping out when no one was looking.
She liked to be in control, liked to know in advance exactly how things were laid out, how they would work. When facing anything new and untried, she liked to make a trial run, to work out any glitches in the beginning, to make sure she knew exactly where she was going so there would be no surprises.
Childbirth didn’t allow for trial runs. And the fear of the unknown was taunting her like a salivating ghoul with an echoing sinister laugh.
“Isn’t it time yet?”
“Should we page the doctor?” Cheyenne asked.
“Just…just look, damn it,” Emily said to Chance. “I don’t even care anymore.” Childbirth turned modesty to dust.
Donna, the labor nurse, stepped up to the end of the bed. “I’ll check. Do you want the men to leave the room?”
Emily’s fingers tightened even more around Cheyenne’s. She’d done nothing but bark at him for the past hour, but he was her lifeline. She didn’t want him budging from her side. “No. I’m sorry I’m being such a baby.”
Donna patted her knee and draped the sheet so that her modesty was somewhat preserved and donned a pair of gloves. “I suspect you’re in the transition stage, and moms tend to get a little testy at this point.” She did a quick examination, then smiled. “Just as I thought. Dilated about nine centimeters and eighty-percent effaced.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means I’ll page Dr. Freeman now,” Chance said.
She wanted these babies out, but now her fear had shot right off the charts. Almost time.
“Can’t you do it?” she asked Chance.
“I thought you wanted someone else.”
“I changed my mind.”
He nodded. “I have privileges here. If that’s what you want, I can deliver the babies.”
“Yes. That’s what I want—Oh!”
“Again?” Cheyenne asked, and automatically moved into her line of vision, trying to give her comfort, a focal point. His composure was shot to hell. He’d seen childbirth, but it hadn’t been this personal. It hadn’t seemed this painful. It hadn’t been Emily.
He wanted to take her pain, bear it for her.
All he could do was hold her hand and stroke her face and ache right along with her.
He didn’t dare tell her he could practically feel each one of her contractions. He had an idea she’d hit him.
And judging by the death grip she had on his hand, she could probably lay him out cold in a single blow.
The nurse was still at the end of the bed. “We’re there,” she announced.
“Where?” Emily shrieked. “What do you mean we’re there?”
“I can see hair.”
“Don’t say that!” Emily’s voice a near hysterical shout.
Cheyenne’s heart was pounding and he was lightheaded. My God, he was going to embarrass himself before this was all over. He was sure of it.
Chance reached for Emily’s free hand. “Don’t push now.”
“Easy for you to say.” Her voice trembled. “It feels like something’s happening.”
“I know. It won’t be long. I’ll go scrub in and see you in the delivery room.”
“You can’t leave! Donna said there’s hair!”
Cheyenne wanted to add his own objections. Emily was on the verge of tears again, and he was right there on the edge with her. But she needed his strength now, not his worries.
“It’s just a quick trip down the hall, Em. A couple of minutes. Chance will hurry.”
“Run,” Emily suggested.
Chance grinned. “I’m running. You coming, Cheyenne?”
“I don’t—”
“He’s coming!” Emily insisted.
And Cheyenne found himself dragged along, whether he wanted to be or not. He was barely able to pull his hand out of Emily’s grasp as they loaded her onto a gurney.
The biggest part of him wanted to experience every facet of this incredible miracle. The small cowardly part, the male part, wanted to pace—at a safe distance in the fathers’ waiting room.
Fathers’ waiting room.
God, he wished Jimmy were here.
He followed Chance to wash his hands and get outfitted in scrubs, all the while worried about Emily, not liking the separation.
Despite Chance’s calm demeanor, the doctor moved quickly. That heightened Cheyenne’s anxiety. “She’ll be okay, won’t she?”
“I don’t anticipate any problems. She’s had a normal pregnancy, but multiple births always increase the risk. It’s best to be prepared for anything, so if something does come up and I ask you to leave, do it quickly.”
Cheyenne stopped and looked his friend in the eye. “Don’t put either of us in that position.”
It was difficult to appear tough wearing a paper cap over his hair, but he managed to convey it nonetheless. He could tell by the respect he saw in the doctor’s eyes.
Still, there was hesitation. “Cheyenne—”
“I mean it, Chance. I’m all she’s got and there’s no way in hell I’ll abandon her if things get rough. Once I walk through that door, I’m staying. Got it?”
“I could fix it so you don’t walk through that door in the first place.”
They stared at each other like enemies facing off in battle. “Do you really want to try that?”
Chance let out a breath and shook his head. “It’s going to go fine. You’ll see. But I swear, if you faint, I’m telling the whole town.”
“I’ll take out the ad myself.”
The minute he stepped into the delivery room, Emily reached for him. The relief in her eyes at the sight of him made his heart squeeze.
Her hair was mashed to her head, curling wildly at her damp temples, sticking up at odd places. Her skin was pale, her eyelids swollen, her fingernails ragged where the acrylics had been removed.
She’d never looked more beautiful.
“How you doing, trouble?”
“I need to push. Tell him, I need to push,” she said as though Chance wasn’t standing right there at her bedside with perfectly fine hearing.
“Just a couple more minutes,” Chance said to Emily. “Right now, we’re going to put a little something in the IV to relax you.”
“It won’t affect the babies, will it?”
“No. Try not to touch the drape. We want to keep it sterile.”
“Maybe you should just knock me out. I’m whipped. I don’t think—” She sucked in a breath and grabbed for her stomach.
Cheyenne took her hands in his, glanced at Chance. He felt so helpless. And he felt light-headed again, damn it. “What should I do?”
“Think long and hard before you speak in the next few minutes.”
Astonishingly Emily laughed, even though she was obviously in the throes of a contraction. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I feel like acting so ugly.”
“You’re entitled. Breathe, baby. Hold on to me.”
“I’m trying. Ouch! What was that?”
“Just general anesthetic.”
“I told you I hate needles!”
“Shh,” Cheyenne consoled. “You’re tough.” Still, he glared at Chance.
“All done,” Chance said, grinning. “Take a breath now. Cheyenne, raise her up and support her back. Push with this contraction, Emily. To the count of ten. Let’s get these babies introduced to the world.”
Through a whole lot of swearing, a whole lot of sweating, Cheyenne held her, pushed with her, breathed with her, ached with her. Tears leaked out of her eyes and he wanted to cry right along with her.
He was so focused on Emily, wishing like hell he didn’t feel so helpless, it was a minute before he realized a baby was crying.
“What is it?” Emily asked. “Are they both here?”
“A little boy. Fine one, too.” Chance held the squalling infant up, then laid him on Emily’s stomach.
“Can I touch him?” she asked.
“Yes.”
With her hand still attached to the IV, she stroked the infant’s slick dark hair. Cheyenne’s hand covered hers, nearly spanning the baby’s whole body.
“He’s so small.” She was laughing and crying and trembling. Then another vicious pain wrenched her belly.
“He’s a keeper,” Chance said. “Round two. Almost over, Emily. You’re doing great.”
The nurse picked up the baby and Cheyenne raised Emily into position.
Emily thought her strength was all used up, but with the excitement of seeing the little baby, she got a burst of energy. Or she thought so, until she tried to push and couldn’t hold the count.
“Wait!”
“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t give up on me now.”
“I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can. I’m right here.”
She felt Cheyenne’s lips at her temple, his breath warm against her, his arms around her. She took another breath and bore down. She was beyond pain, beyond thinking. Time stood still and she felt like a spectator, floating above the scene, watching as the woman turned red in the face and the man held her gently.
And at last a second lusty cry joined the first.
“One of each,” Chance said. “A little girl this time. Two minutes younger than her brother.”
She was shaking uncontrollably, her legs, her hands. And was so cold.
“Is she all right?”
“She’s perfect,” Cheyenne said, kissing her cheeks, her eyelids, her lips. “I’m so proud of you.”
A nurse was wiping the babies off, weighing and measuring them. “Six pounds, four ounces for the girl, six pounds even for the boy.”
“Oh, she’ll hate that,” Emily said, through a watery laugh, her teeth chattering. “I don’t think we’ll tell her she weighed more than her brother.”
The pediatric nurse took one of the tightly wrapped infants and put it in Emily’s arms, then handed the other to Cheyenne.
The warm little bundle was soft and peaceful, with round cheeks and a red face that looked like it had gotten a sunburn and was peeling.
Emily hadn’t exaggerated when she’d said she’d never held an infant before. And my gosh, this one had come from her body!
“Which do I have? The boy or girl?”
“The girl. Cheyenne’s holding the boy.”
She glanced at him, and the utterly profound look of awe and reverence on his face brought tears to her eyes.
He met her gaze. “You’re amazing.”
She didn’t feel very amazing. She felt worn to a frazzle. “Debbie and Jimmy would be so proud,” she whispered.
She saw his eyes swim with tears that never fell.
“Yes, they would.” He placed the second baby in her free arm so she could cuddle them both and pressed a kiss to each tiny head and then to Emily’s forehead.
She gazed at both babies. “Do you know what Jimmy’s middle name was?”
“Hunter. James Hunter.”
“Do you think…they never decided on names because we didn’t know the sex of the babies. What do you think about naming them after Debbie and Jimmy, using their middle names? Hunter James, and Alicia Debra?”
“Hunter and Alicia Bodine.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I think my brother and your sister would approve.”
Chance cleared his throat. “Okay, you two, there’s still some work to do yet.”
With her focus solely on her new family, she’d nearly forgotten about the doctor.
The nurses took the babies and Emily grabbed for Cheyenne’s hand.
“I have a feeling this next part is going to involve needles,” she said to Chance.
“You won’t feel a thing—maybe a little tug, but that’s it. You did a fine job, Emily. Not even a hitch. Guess you’ve got one of those bodies made for having babies.”
That was news to Emily. But just as her body had adapted perfectly to the embryo transplant, it had seemed in fine working order for delivery.
She could have done with a little less pain, though.
EMILY STAYED in the hospital for three days. Although a lot of mothers went home right away, Emily had claimed she was a wimp and so was happy to stay exactly where she was, thank you very much.
Cheyenne was actually glad that she and the babies were getting around-the-clock professional care. Because when they came home, they would be in his care.
He hoped he was up to the task. Man alive, those little tykes were small.
After taking care of the release papers, he made his way to Emily’s room. She wasn’t in the bed.
He found her in the tiny bathroom, sitting on the closed lid of the commode.
Crying.
In one step he was at her side. “What is it? Are you in pain? Did you hurt yourself?”
She shook her head. “I can’t get into my pants,” she whispered between sniffs.
He was lost.
“I even brought my fat jeans!”
Fat jeans? “Can’t you just wear those stretchy things you wore to the hospital?” It was a reasonable-enough suggestion.
Or so he thought.
She glared at him, the spark in her green eyes equivalent to a punch. Uh-oh.
“They’re maternity pants! I’m not pregnant anymore.”
And to his consternation, she burst into renewed sobs.
Cheyenne was like a drowning m
an down for the count.
“Um, do you want me to call the nurse?”
“If you say one more stupid thing, I’m going to hit you!”
Well, hell. He knelt in front of her, tipped up her chin.
“Do you know how incredible you are?”
She rolled her eyes.
He cupped her cheeks, pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.
“I’m a mess.”
“A beautiful mess.”
She gave a watery laugh. “And I’m acting like a baby.”
“Hell, trouble, you’re entitled. I was in that delivery room with you, too. It was bad enough as a bystander. I couldn’t have done what you did.”
She bit her lips, sniffed again. “Well, if you want to know the truth, I impressed the daylights out of myself.”
He grinned. “Atta girl. At the risk of bodily injury, do you want me to bring in your other clothes?”
“I guess.”
“You could just wear your gown and robe home if you want.”
“Please. My dignity’s smarting enough as it is.”
He rose to do her bidding.
“Did you bring outfits for the kids?” she asked.
“Already dropped them off in the nursery. They’re taking pictures.”
“That’s nice. Cheyenne?”
He stopped and looked back.
“Thanks for putting up with me.”
“Anytime, trouble.” He didn’t tell her how easy she was to “put up with.”
He wanted to do it for a lifetime. And knew it was only for a while.
EMILY CURSED her independent streak, called herself every kind of idiot for insisting she’d be fine while Cheyenne handled some emergency sheriff business. He’d hated to leave her on her first full day at home, offered to get one of the neighbors over to sit with her, but she’d felt cocky.
He’d only expected to be gone a couple of hours. No sense imposing on the neighbors.
The babies had been asleep.
Well, they were wide awake now, and all hell had broken loose.
Even the dog was thoroughly disgusted with the chaos and racket. He was curled up on a pillow by the fireplace, obviously trying to make himself invisible lest he be pressed into service. Emily didn’t blame him. She felt like hiding, too. How had this happened?
Well, she knew how it had happened. She’d opened her mouth and agreed to be a human incubator for her sister’s babies.