“Because she deserves to be liked. I know she comes across as someone who has it all together, but inside she’s the softest, kindest, most generous—”
“I like her. You don’t have to talk me into it. She did that all on her own.”
A slow, delighted smile spread across her face. “You do like her,” she murmured. “I’m so happy.” Then she recoiled, hand on her belly. “Oh crap.” She scrunched up her face. Jeb knelt next to her, rubbing her back in the way Belinda had appreciated.
“I’ve been having some pains,” Melissa blurted. “They started last night. It’s probably nothing. I mean, it’s too early. And they’re far apart. Probably Braxton-Hicks contractions, right? The false ones that come before the real ones?” She grabbed at his hand. “It’s nothing to worry about, right?”
“Have you told Brody?”
“I don’t want him to worry. I haven’t told anyone except you. I called my OB-GYN and left a message, but I haven’t heard back yet.
He straightened up. “I’m calling Brody.”
“No! There’s nothing he can do from there. He’ll just go crazy. I don’t want to do that to him.”
“Then we’re getting on that chopper and we’ll call him from the mainland.”
“Okay. Fine. If the senator really lets me on it. He’s pretty ticked off.”
“He’ll let you,” said Jeb grimly. He started imagining what he’d do to the senator if he objected. Those pleasant thoughts were interrupted by the sound of shouting outside.
Jeb hurried to the window and pulled back the ruffled curtain. The reporters were leaving en masse. Camera operators were throwing equipment into cases, reporters were running down the street. Nita hadn’t even held her press conference yet, had she? He looked at his watch. Barely fifteen minutes had passed since he’d left her in the tea room. He nudged the window open. Water sprayed into the room. “What’s going on?” He yelled to the disappearing crowd.
“The last ferry’s here,” someone answered. “It came early and it’s leaving right away.”
Jeb closed the window before the floor got too soaked. He turned back to Melissa. “It’s a good thing Nita got us spots on the chopper.”
“I guess it is. My stuff is packed. I’m ready to go.” She flinched again. Jeb was at her side in a second. She grabbed his hand and squeezed hard until the pain passed. “How do we get to the chopper?” She said with a gasp.
“I’ll go find out. You’re doing great, Melissa. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Empty words. But they’d better be true. He’d do everything in his power to make sure they were.
A steady thump-thumping sound made him look out the window again. A helicopter hovered directly overhead, its blades whipping rainwater in a wild pinwheel pattern. Peering out the window was the senator. He spotted Jeb and gave him the finger. Then the chopper lifted higher in the air, wheeled to the left, and headed toward the mainland.
So much for their ride off the island.
Chapter Ten
* * *
BY THE TIME Nita had indulged in a string of satisfying curses at Senator Stryker and the runaway reporters, she was ready to face Jeb in the empty tea room.
“Once the press left, Stryker must have figured our deal was pointless. What about the ferry?”
“It’s probably gone by now. It’s going to be packed anyway. I’m not comfortable with Melissa being crammed onto a ferryboat in a storm.” He dragged a hand through his hair.
“Then we just stay here and ride it out?” A sneaky tendril of hope stole through her. Maybe she wouldn’t have to say goodbye to Jeb yet.
“Where’s Angie?”
“She went across the street to her friend’s house. Apparently they have a storm knitting tradition.”
Jeb lapsed into deep thought. Nita watched him, realizing that whatever decision he made, she would trust it. “I’m going to call Brody and explain the situation. Can you check on Melissa?”
“Of course.”
Nita hurried to Melissa’s room and tapped on the door. “Melissa?” she called softly. No answer. She pushed the door open and stepped into an eerie stillness. Oh my God. Something’s wrong. Something happened. She knew it with every cell of her body, every goose bump on her skin. Suddenly she felt as if she was drowning in terror. She couldn’t move her feet, couldn’t open her mouth. Images from the day she’d started bleeding cascaded through her mind. The absolute terror, the call to her doctor, the cab ride to the emergency room, the carefully neutral expressions of the nurses, the onrushing darkness.
“Melissa?” She managed to whisper.
“In here.” Melissa’s voice came from the bathroom.
She could make it to the bathroom. She had to, for Melissa’s sake, and for her baby. Forcing one foot to lift, then the other, she moved jerkily across the bedroom to the tiny bathroom. When she pushed the door open, her first thought was that water had spilled on the floor. Melissa was standing over it. She looked up at Nita with an expression of complete astonishment.
“What the hell, I think my water broke! It shouldn’t have done that. I still have another month to go.”
That was bad, very bad. Sick fear grabbed at her throat. Not Melissa. Not Melissa’s baby. She wanted to throw up. She felt as if a cloud of panicked hornets was swarming her brain.
“What do we do? What do we do?” What had she done when she’d seen the blood? She’d called her doctor, then a cab. She turned blindly toward the door, then whirled back again. “I’ll call 911. They’ll send an ambulance. No, I have the Suburban. I can drive you to the hospital.” She spun toward the door again.
“Nita.” Melissa grabbed her upper arm and gave her a little shake. “It’s going to be okay. Get Jeb. Just get Jeb. You hear me?”
Nita nodded, those two crucial words penetrating the fog of fear. Get Jeb. She could do that.
WHEN NITA RAN into the tearoom screaming for him, she was nearly incoherent, but Jeb got enough of the gist to spring into action.
“Could be premature rupture,” he said. “Is she going into labor? Is she having regular contractions? Focus, Nita.” He gripped her by the shoulders, willing her gaze to meet his. She took a deep, shuddering breath and passed a hand over her forehead.
“I’m sorry. I was just . . .”
“I know.” He recognized a trauma flashback when he saw one. “Keep on breathing, you’ll be okay.” He ran through the options. Each of them required a functioning Nita, so he stayed with her, using his voice to soothe her and bring her back to herself.
After a few seemingly endless moments, Nita’s glazed look transformed into her usual alertness. “I’m fine. What can I do? I don’t know about the contractions. Want me to time them or something?”
“Yes. That would be perfect.” That would give her something to focus on. “I’m going to work on getting a ride to the hospital. Tell Melissa I’ll take care of it and not to panic. I’ll make a couple of calls and be there in a second. And keep your cool, Nita. She needs you.”
She nodded, her jaw clenched with determination, and ran off. Jeb called Brody first and filled him in. “Get on the first plane you can. Or drive. Call your OB/GYN and see what hospital we should head to.”
“I’m on it.”
Then he called 911 and explained the situation to the dispatcher, who was in Port Howard on the mainland. “I can send the fire boat, but it takes an hour to get out there. Maybe more in this weather.”
“What about a Medevac?”
“They’re all grounded at the moment due to lightning strikes. Might get the all clear soon, but I can’t say when.”
Jeb swore to himself, and hung up.
He called the Santa Lucia firehouse, but the phone did nothing but ring and ring. Maybe the line was out of order. Maybe everyone was out dealing with the storm. Maybe their incompetent fire chief was deep into a bottle of rum. He pulled out the pager Charlie had left him and punched in his cell number. A few seconds later Charlie called h
im back, sounding as if he was in the rinse cycle of a car wash.
Afraid the connection wouldn’t last long, Jeb kept it simple. “We need to get Melissa to a hospital. Can you take us on your boat?”
Charlie’s voice punched through the storm-static in isolated words. “. . . fishing boat . . . cabin . . . uncomfortable . . .”
“Can you do it? Safely?”
“. . . wharf . . . half an hour.”
“We’ll be there. Three of us.” They would need Nita’s help. He just hoped she was holding herself together enough to give it.
LIKE THE CARING friend she was, Nita came through. When he finally walked into Melissa’s room, he found them sitting on the bed, Melissa holding onto Nita’s hand for dear life while Nita stared at the timer on her iPhone.
“Her pains are lasting forty seconds,” she said proudly. “And they’re coming about eight minutes apart.”
“Eight minutes?”
“Yes, is that bad?”
He recovered himself quickly. “No, that’s fine. It looks like this baby likes to make things interesting.”
Melissa’s eyes brimmed with tears. “But Brody isn’t here! I can’t have the baby without Brody.”
“He’s on his way. He’s going to meet us at the hospital.”
Tears poured down Melissa’s cheeks. “I should have listened to him. Why’d I have to go waltzing off to some island for a stupid story? Now the baby might be born without Brody, and I couldn’t stand it if that happened.”
“Shhh, shhh.” Nita threw her arms around Melissa, who buried her head in Nita’s shoulder. “It’s going to be fine. Brody will get there. I mean, come on, he’s Brody! He’ll find a way. And Jeb will get us to the hospital, right?”
“The boat’s picking us up at the wharf in,” he checked his watch, “twenty minutes. Nita, are you packed?”
Just then Melissa gave another deep groan and clutched at Nita. “I just need my purse,” Nita told him. “Can you grab it?”
“Of course. Get Melissa to the Suburban and I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He picked up Melissa’s bag and her laptop case. “Is this everything?”
“Yes,” gasped Melissa, emerging from the contraction. “I travel light. Well, except for this belly I’m hauling around.”
“Sense of humor. That’s good. Hang onto that.”
She did her best, he had to hand it to her. By the time they all made it to the wharf, they were drenched to the skin from the rain whipping through the air. It took all his driving skills to dodge the broken tree branches and tumbling lawn furniture clogging the roads. Both Melissa and Nita were great, keeping their cool through huge gusts of wind that shook the old Suburban.
At the wharf, Melissa’s calm deserted her at the sight of Charlie’s boat, which had an open deck, a tiny wheelhouse, and narrow benches as seats. “We’re not going in that, are we?” she wailed. A breaking wave sent a plume of ocean water over them, making her stagger.
Jeb wiped salt water out of his eyes with one hand while the other held her steady. On Melissa’s other side, Nita was shoving her drenched hair off her face.
“Are you sure about this, Jeb?” She called over the constant thunder of the surf.
“It’s safe,” he told them. “These boats are built to ride out storms.”
Charlie called to them from the wheelhouse. “I know it looks bad, but this boat’s been through worse storms than this. I can’t leave the wheel while she’s at the dock. Can you make it aboard okay?”
A large swell pushed the craft against the pilings, so hard the rubber fenders got squished to the side. For the first time, Jeb felt a moment of real fear. What if Melissa couldn’t bridge the constantly shifting gap between the wharf and the boat? What if she fell in? Maybe they’d be safer staying on the island until the storm subsided. If the baby came, he could handle it. He was a trained EMT, and had handled many medical emergencies over the years.
But none of them had involved a late-term pregnant woman with premature rupture of the membranes. His expertise was just enough to know that she needed a damn doctor. They had to get on that boat.
“Is there a ramp we can use?” He called to Charlie. But just then, Jeb heard a shout and turned to see several other people in oilskins jogging down the wharf. Behind them he spotted the bright yellow Santa Lucia fire engine parked at the top of the long ramp. Relief flooded through him.
The Santa Lucia volunteer firefighters were coming to the rescue.
They cheerfully swarmed around Jeb, Melissa and Nita. “Charlie got ahold of us,” one of them explained. “We were clearing some downed power lines.”
“You guys know the ocean better than I do,” he told them. “How do we get her safely on that boat?”
“I’m right here,” muttered Melissa.
Quickly, the firefighters organized themselves into a sort of bucket brigade, with two guys on the boat and two standing next to Melissa, each holding one of her arms. “When I say ‘Go,’ you step forward, ma’am,” said one of them. “That’s all you have to do. We’ll do the rest. Sir, you can step back for a minute.”
“You know what you’re doing?”
“Boats, we know. It’s the fires we’re a little shaky on.”
Muttering a quick prayer, Jeb stepped back. His hand slipped into Nita’s. They clung to each other, holding their breath as they watched the firefighters poised for action. One of them made a smiling comment to Melissa, which seemed to relax her.
“They’re good guys,” Jeb murmured to Nita. “Really good guys.”
And then, during the still moment between waves, when the ocean took a breath before its next onslaught, Melissa stepped forward. The two men onboard grabbed her by the arms as the other two let go. They leveraged her onto the deck of the boat, where she stood, shaking and laughing and bestowing kisses on each and every one of them.
“Come on,” said Jeb. “Our turn.” He propelled Nita forward, into the waiting arms of the firefighters.
They helped Nita aboard first, swinging her across the spitting ocean in the same rhythm they’d used with Melissa. By then Jeb had gotten the hang of it and stepped onto the heaving deck by himself.
“You’re a natural, sir,” said one of the firemen. “Next time you come out we’ll take you fishing.”
“You’re on.” He clapped the nearest two on the back. “You guys keep up the good work.”
“Will do, sir. You’re in good hands with Charlie.” They swarmed off the boat and waved goodbye as Charlie swung the wheel to guide them toward the tossing, rampaging ocean.
Away from the dock, the fishing boat’s rocking, rolling motion felt like that of a bucking bronco. As soon as they hit the first swell, Melissa threw up. There was so much water running across the decks, rainwater and seawater mixed, that it got washed away in seconds.
“I can’t go in that cabin,” she gasped. “Too claustrophobic.”
“That’s fine. But you have to sit down.” If she stood the whole time, she might slip and fall, or get knocked into the ocean.
He guided her to a spot where she could lean her back against the outer bulkhead of the cabin and helped her slide down until she sat, her legs stretched in front of her. Jeb crouched next to her, positioning his body so he was blocking some of the wind and sluicing water. Nita took the bags into the cabin, then came and settled next to Melissa. Nita put her arm around her friend, trying to keep her warm.
After a few more episodes of retching, Melissa closed her eyes and seemed to slip into a trance. Maybe she found the slamming rhythm of the craft and the drone of the engine soothing. At any rate, unconsciousness seemed like an improvement.
“You can sleep too,” he told Nita.
She looked at him as if he were nuts. “I can’t sleep. I need to be here for her if she wakes up.”
“I’m awake,” Melissa murmured. “Just don’t ask me anything challenging.”
“Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m aiming for an out-of-body
experience until I’m with Brody. Nothing counts until I see him.”
Jeb exchanged a worried look with Nita. He didn’t like the sound of “out-of-body experience.”
“Anyway, you guys have plenty to talk about without me. You need to figure out how you’re going to do this,” Melissa said.
“An ambulance will be waiting for us at the ferry landing.”
“Not that. You.”
“Me?” Jeb pointed to himself in confusion.
“You and Nita.”
Jeb’s gaze flew to meet Nita’s. It was hard to tell under all her wet, dark hair, but he thought she was blushing.
“What makes you think there’s a Jeb and me?”
“Pregnant woman’s intuition.”
“Well, you’re off base. It would never work out with me and Jeb.” The boat crested a wave, the engine whining as it lost contact with the water. Then it slammed down, jarring every bone in Jeb’s body.
The impact was nothing compared to that of Nita’s statement. “Excuse me? Why not?”
“You just got out of a long marriage.”
“I got divorced a year ago. And the ‘marriage’ part of the marriage died long before. Not a good reason.”
“I’m still trying to get my life back on track after everything that happened.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that one. So we go slow. I’m not pushing anything on you.”
“I’m not like Belinda.”
“You’re not gay? Glad to hear it.”
“Okay, I’m officially asleep now,” said Melissa. She faked a snore, then arched her back as another pain struck.
They helped her through it, letting her squeeze their hands until they turned white. When the pain had passed, and Melissa was once again discreetly pretending to sleep, Nita lowered her voice. “I can’t do it, Jeb. Maybe you look at me and see someone who’s very confident, but let me tell you, it’s all a fake. That’s how I became a press agent. Fake it till you make it; that was my motto. But you know what you can’t fake? You can’t fake making your boyfriend stick around. You can’t fake making your baby stick around. That’s the truth about me, Jeb. I’m a failure. Life has shredded me like . . . like . . . cabbage on a taco. That’s why we can’t get involved. That’s why you should let it go. Before either of us . . . well, me . . . gets hurt.”
Desperately Seeking Fireman Page 9