by Robyn Carr
“Oh, God,” she cried.
Then she was gripped by another hard contraction and fear gave way to pain. Her husband tried the breathing with her, but after all these hours of hard labor, it was futile. She had very little space between contractions and some residual pain that made it feel, to her, as if her contractions were continual, back to back.
Mel had had tough deliveries before, but it was different in the hospital, when you could just wheel your patient down the hall to surgery and let the surgeons and anesthesiologist take over; in a hospital she would give the mother every chance to make it through, if she wanted to try. It was different for her here, when the hospital was so far away, staffed and equipped for only routine procedures and surgeries. She couldn’t help but feel very disappointed for Anne, who had so looked forward to a natural childbirth with her husband.
“Anne, it’s just one of those things. Sometimes a C-section is the best answer,” Mel said. “You’re not going to have this baby here, but we want you to have as many healthy births as you desire.”
“Of course you’re right,” she answered breathlessly.
Mel heard the front door open, Jack’s feet on the stairs and then his voice outside the door. “Mel?”
She pushed the door open.
“Let me take her down for you. I’ll drive you to the hospital in the Hummer.”
“Thanks. Come in. Just let her get through this next contraction.”
Jack stepped into the room and nodded at Jeremy. “How you doing, man?” he asked. “I’m going to carry your wife downstairs for you—you look pretty exhausted. You and Mel can ride in back with her and I’ll drive.” As soon as Anne seemed to relax a bit, Jack bent over the bed and lifted her easily into his arms. “Hang on, kiddo,” he said. “I’ll get you down before the next one hits, how’s that?”
Mel grabbed her bag and said, “Jeremy, please get Anne’s suitcase.” She followed Jack downstairs, grabbed her coat and while Jack held Anne, she opened up the back of the Hummer and slid out the gurney. “Anne, I want you on your left side, please.” Once she was situated, Mel and Jeremy climbed in on either side of her, kneeling, while Jack got behind the wheel and took off in the direction of Valley Hospital.
Mel kept the fetoscope handy and blood pressure cuff on Anne’s upper arm. She checked her pressure and the fetal heartbeat every few minutes. They were nearly halfway when she reached forward and put a thankful hand on Jack’s shoulder. His hand automatically came up to cover hers. “You were still awake,” she said softly.
“In case you needed anything,” he answered.
She gently squeezed his shoulder, but what she really wanted to do was throw her arms around him. She so appreciated the way he instinctively supported her in her work.
When they got to the hospital they entered the emergency room and, once inside, Mel handed Jack her coat and said, “You should move the SUV. Jeremy and I will take her up to labor and delivery. John’s meeting us. I hate to ask you, but...”
“Of course I’ll wait. I’ll be right here. Don’t worry about me.”
“Am I going to be allowed in?” Jeremy asked while they were in the elevator.
“That’s going to be up to Dr. Stone,” she said. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”
Mel pushed the gurney through the swinging doors and was very happy to see John standing at the sink, finishing his scrub. Hands held up, he turned toward her and gave a nod and a smile. “Number two is set up, Mel. The anesthesiologist is here.”
Beside him at the adjoining sink, pumping the faucet pedal with her foot, was a nurse in scrubs, her mask tied around her neck. She looked over at Mel and with a sarcastic twist of her lips, said, “Another botched home birth?”
Mel’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened as if slapped. John whirled on the nurse, glaring at her. Then John turned back to Mel and said, “Can you scrub in with me, Mel?”
“I’m prepared to assist, Dr. Stone,” the nurse said from behind him.
“Thank you, Juliette, but I’m leaning toward someone more professional. You and I will talk later.” And to Mel, “You have less than fifteen minutes.”
“Certainly. Jeremy wants to be there,” she said.
“Of course. Juliette, find the father some scrubs. Mel, you’ll find some in the locker room. Shake a leg.”
Mel pushed the gurney to operating room number two and let the circulating nurse pull Anne into the room. She donned green scrubs in the locker room and joined Jeremy at the sink, saying, “If you scrub in, the doctor might be inclined to let you hold your son when he’s born. Just like this,” she said, demonstrating the scrubbing technique. “No guarantees on that, so no pouting. And you’ll have to stay at Anne’s head.”
“Have you done this before?” he asked her. “Assisted in a C-section?”
“Many times,” she said.
“Mel?” he asked. “It wasn’t botched, was it?”
“Of course not. What Anne experienced wasn’t all that unusual. You were there, Jeremy. You see anything happen that bothered you? I trust you would’ve said something or at least asked a question or two.” She smiled at him. “You have one stubborn little boy to raise. Fortunately, we have a very good surgeon at our disposal.”
By the time they entered the operating room, Anne had received her spinal from the anesthesiologist and was much more comfortable. John was ready to begin and Mel took her place next to him, her instruments lying out on the mayo stand.
“Scalpel,” he said.
She slapped it into his hand. “Thank you,” she said. “For what you did out there.”
“She’s a good nurse, but I never figured her for jealous. I apologize for her. We’re ready to retract,” he said. He chuckled. “You do a damn fine job, Mel. I’d let you deliver my wife in a second.”
* * *
The ride back to Virgin River wasn’t exactly quiet—Jeremy was a literal motormouth. Jack heard the details of the surgery several times. While Jeremy’s wife was in recovery and his son in the nursery, he needed a lift home to fetch his own vehicle so he could go back. He chattered while Jack drove, and Mel’s head lolled on the seat beside him.
“Exhausted, baby?” he asked her.
“I’ll be fine after a nap,” she said.
“Mel assisted Dr. Stone,” Jeremy sounded from the back. “He asked her to. It was incredible. The things she knows how to do.”
Jack glanced over at her and smiled. “You know what’s incredible, Jeremy?” Jack said. He reached over and squeezed her thigh. “She never surprises me.”
It was 9:00 a.m. before they got back to Virgin River. Mel checked in with Doc. “Mother and baby came through very well. John Stone is a wonderful, fast surgeon.”
“Good call,” he said. “For a city girl.” And then he treated her to a rare smile.
She found there were only three people scheduled for morning appointments and Doc was more than capable. She had asked Jack to give her a call in five or six hours—she didn’t want to sleep all day or she wouldn’t sleep that night. But the labor and delivery had been taxing and she was spent.
* * *
Jack helped Preacher serve lunch, then he went to the river to fish for a couple of hours. He had a lot on his mind. It hadn’t escaped him that Mel had been moody lately. He’d seen suspicious evidence of tears. And she wasn’t drinking that end-of-the-day beer—she played with it for a little while before pushing it aside and asking for ice water.
At about three in the afternoon, while Preacher worked on preparing the evening meal, he went out to the cabin. He took off his boots on the front porch and tiptoed into the house. He stripped down to his boxers and slipped into the bed beside her, gently kissing her neck. She stirred slightly, turned her head and smiled at him.
“Now th
is is a good way to wake up,” she murmured, closing her eyes again and snuggling closer to him.
He held her for a long while, then his hands began to move. Softly and sweetly. Before even seconds passed, her hands began to move, as well, and she pressed herself against him. When she began to strain against him, he got rid of the T-shirt she slept in and the boxers he still wore. He made gentle love to her, careful to keep her comfortable and safe, even as she picked up that eager pace, that frenetic yearning that drove him wild. He knew her body as well as she did herself by now, and he knew exactly what gave her the most pleasure.
She settled back to earth slowly. “I thought you were going to call,” she said.
“Isn’t this better?”
“You always know what to do,” she said.
“Not always,” he said, holding her close. “Right now, for example. I’m not sure what to do.”
“Why?” she asked, her eyes still closed, her face buried in his chest.
“When are you going to tell me?”
She lifted her head. “Tell you?”
“About the baby.”
“But Jack, you know the baby and mother are—”
“The baby inside of you,” he said, placing a large hand over her flat tummy.
A startled look crossed her features. She pushed him away a little bit. “Did someone say something to you?” she asked.
“No one had to say anything. Please tell me I’m not the last to know.”
“I just saw John yesterday—and how in the world would you know?”
“Mel,” he said, running the back of one knuckle along her cheek, “your body’s changing. You haven’t had a period. For a while, I thought maybe you’d had a hysterectomy or something because I haven’t noticed a period since the first time we made love, but there’s a blue box under the bathroom sink. You don’t drink your beer, and you get nauseous from time to time. Not to mention being more tired than usual.”
“Lord,” she said. “You never think a man will notice. Not things like that.”
“Well?”
She sighed. “I went to see John yesterday to confirm what I already suspected. I’m pregnant. Three months.”
“You’re a midwife. How could you not know at three weeks?”
“Because I assumed I was sterile. Infertile. Mark and I did everything to try to get a baby—even in vitro fertilization. To no avail. This was the last thing I ever expected.”
“Ah,” he said, finally clear on why she might keep it from him. “So, here we are,” he said.
“I’m sorry, Jack. You must think I’m an idiot.”
He kissed her. “Of course not. Mel, I’m in love with you.”
She was frozen for a second. “Oh, God,” she finally said, plummeted into tears. “Oh, God, Jack!” She buried her face in his chest and wept.
“Hey, no reason to cry, baby. You a little surprised? No more than me,” he laughed. “I never thought this could happen to me. It hit me so hard, I damn near fell down. But I love you.” She continued to softly cry. “It’s okay, honey. It’ll be okay.” He stroked her hair. “You want to have a baby, obviously.”
She lifted her head. “I wanted a baby so badly, I ached. But do you?” she asked. “I mean, you’re forty.”
“I want everything with you. Everything. Besides, I like babies. And I’m wild about pregnant women.”
“When did you decide you knew for sure?” she asked him.
“At least a month ago.” He put a hand over her breast. “Sore? Haven’t you noticed the changes? Your nipples have darkened.”
“I was in denial,” she said, wiping at her tears. “I was so desperate for a baby—but I had accepted that it couldn’t happen. I wouldn’t have done it this way.”
“And how would you have done it, exactly?”
“If I thought it even remotely possible I could get pregnant, I would have at least been sure you wanted a family, so that we could make a decision like this together. Fully informed. So if it happened, it would be okay. I hate that you’ve had this thrust on you. With no warning.”
“That wasn’t going to happen, not under the circumstances. It never would have occurred to you to try for a baby—convinced it was impossible. So—maybe it’s a good thing it just happened like this.”
“And what if it had gone the other way? What if I told you the thing I wanted most in the world was a baby, asked you to try for one with me?”
He pulled her a little closer. “I’d have been happy to help out.” Then he smiled into her eyes.
“I don’t know what to say. You just accept everything. You’re amazing. I thought you might be very pissed.”
“Nah. The only thing that disappoints me is that it took me this long to find you.”
“Even with all my baggage?” she asked.
“I don’t consider this baggage.” He leaned over and kissed her belly. “I consider this the grand prize.”
“You want it?” she asked.
“I told you,” he said. “I want it. It makes me happy.”
“God,” she said in a breath. “I was afraid.”
“Of?”
“Of you saying, ‘Holy shit—I’m forty! What do I want with a baby?’”
He laughed at her. “I didn’t say that, did I? Nah, I’m ready. A family sounds good.”
“Jack,” she said, “I’m still afraid.”
“Of?”
“Of believing in us. My last stab at something like this ended so, so badly. I thought I’d never get over it. I’m not sure I am yet.”
“Well, you’re just going to have to take a leap of faith,” he said.
“I think I can do that,” she said. “If you’re there to catch me.”
“I’m here,” he said. “I haven’t let you down yet, have I?”
She put her hand against his face. “No, Jack. You sure haven’t.”
* * *
Jack had seen his brothers-in-law, all puffed up with testosterone pride when they’d gotten their wives pregnant, when the babies came. He never pretended to really understand it. He was too busy with his career, with his troops, when it seemed to him a woman getting pregnant was probably the worst career suicide a man could suffer. He didn’t get their male egos; he thought his sisters were just getting fat and mean.
He got it now. He felt as though his chest might explode. There was a fire in his belly and it was all he could do to keep from running up a flag. He couldn’t wait until he and Mel could make some plans, get married, tell the world they were lifetime partners and bringing a baby on board.
She shooed him out of the cabin, told him to go take care of the dinner crowd while she showered off that long night with a patient. She promised to drive into town to have a diet cola at the bar and tell those present that Anne and Jeremy and their baby boy were doing fine. Then later, they’d go back home together.
He was almost to town when he turned around to go back. Preacher might get testy, being stuck with the bar and cooking, too, but he just had to hold her for a minute more. He tiptoed up the porch steps, took off his boots, and silently opened the door. He expected to hear the shower running, but instead he heard her weeping.
“I’m sorry,” she was saying through her tears. “I’m so, so sorry.” Then she sobbed briefly. “I never planned this. Oh, Mark, please understand...”
He stole a peek into the bedroom and saw Mel sitting on the edge of her bed, talking to the picture of her dead husband. It cut through him like a knife; damn near ripped his heart out.
“Please understand—this was the last thing I expected,” she cried. “It’s just the way it happened, and it took me by surprise. Total surprise. I promise I’ll never forget you!”
He cleared his throat and she jumped. She looked at him, te
ars running down her cheeks. “Jack!” she gasped.
He held up a hand. “I’ll go,” he said. “You can work this out with Mark. I’ll see you later.”
He turned to leave and she ran after him, tugging on his shirt. “Jack, please...”
“It’s okay, Mel,” he said, profound sadness showing in his eyes. He forced a smile. “It’s not as if I didn’t know what I was up against.”
“No! You don’t understand!”
“Sure I do,” he said, tenderly touching her cheek. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere. Except back to the bar. I think I need a drink.”
Jack walked out of the cabin, collected his boots on her porch and got back into his truck. So, he thought, probably the best day of my life, turned to total shit. She’s still back there, with him. She can love you like she’s yours, but she’s not. Not yet.
Hadn’t he always known this was the risk he was taking, as long as he loved her? That she might not be able to let go of him? Ever?
What the hell, he told himself. She might never really belong to me; good thing he can’t come back from the grave and snatch her away. But that baby is mine. And I want it. I want her. Whatever she has to spare...
Fifteen
Mel showered, put on clean clothes and prepared to go to the bar to take her medicine. She felt terrible; her heart ached when she thought of the look in Jack’s eyes. He never should have witnessed that performance. It must have shattered him. She could only hope he would forgive her.
She brought a change of clothes and her makeup for work the next day. If Jack didn’t want to come back to her cabin with her, she would force her company on him. They had to get beyond this. This was her fault. It wasn’t just the two of them anymore. He wanted this baby. He wanted her and the baby. She was going to find a way to make this right.
There were only about a dozen customers in the bar when she got there—the Bristols and Carpenters sitting at a table for four, Hope and Doc at the bar, a couple of men playing cribbage with a pitcher of beer, and a young family. Jack stood behind the bar and lifted his chin slightly in greeting as she entered. It was a very subdued gesture; there was going to be penance to pay.