Katie nodded. “I’ll get a blanket.”
Tottie and Ruth picked up pieces of shingles and dumped them in the large kitchen trashcan. Janet stripped the sodden linens from the bed and bundled them in a soggy lump to take to the utility room. Katie sighed. Add the cost of a new mattress to the list, and she’d probably have to replace the carpet.
The storm seemed to have abated, or at least the wind was dying down. Katie paused to listen. It had shifted directions. Maybe the front had blown itself out. The horses. Had the barn withstood the brunt of the storm? The roof was high pitched. Had ice accumulated there the way it must have on the house roof? She needed to check.
Ruth brought the wastebasket from Meg’s bathroom, dumping the litter into the larger trashcan. She and Janet wrung out soggy towels, using the wastebasket to catch the water. Katie swept up a dustpan full of snow, praying the worst was over.
Her gaze zeroed in on Meg, standing hunched over, holding her stomach. “You okay?”
The young woman shook her head. “No. Something’s wrong.”
“What do you mean something’s wrong?” Everything was wrong! “What is it, Meg? You look like you’re about to faint.”
Meg’s body arched, her jaws clenched, and it was obvious she was fighting pain. “Oh, Katie, I’m sorry to be so much trouble, but so help me, I think the baby’s coming.”
“Ben? Katie. I need your help.” Funny how this time there’d been no choice on who she called. Logically, she should have called Warren to assist them into town. He was closer, and right now time mattered. But after their evening alone, she wasn’t sure she wanted him in a crisis. Especially a woman’s crisis. He wouldn’t be happy being called out of a warm bed in the midst of a blizzard to transport an unwed mother in premature labor to the hospital.
“I’m on my way.”
Katie hung up, trying to wiggle feeling back into her feet.
Tottie had put Meg on the sofa, and she was timing her contractions. They stalled at seven minutes apart.
Meg latched onto Katie’s hand. “I’m scared. Will the baby be okay … it’s way too early, right?”
Yes, way too early. That much Katie knew. But if they could get Meg to the hospital, the doctor might be able stop the labor and give the baby a few more weeks to develop.
“You’ll be fine, Meg. God’s on the job.”
“He won’t worry about me.” She grasped her stomach and moaned. “I’ve never done anything but rebel against him.”
“Well, now that’s the nice thing about God. When he sent his only Son to die on the cross for my sins — and your sins, he didn’t exclude anyone from his grace. Whosoever will come.” Katie brushed hair away from the frightened girl’s forehead. “If God carried a grudge, or put limitations on what he’d done on the cross, we’d all be in trouble.”
Meg’s hand tightened in hers. “Come with me to the hospital? I don’t think I can do this alone.”
“Of course. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Groaning, Meg rolled to her side, and Katie got up to look out of the window. Snow flew in furious bursts. She could barely see the outline of the barn roof. She couldn’t check for ice, but Tottie would when Meg was on her way to the hospital.
Ben. How would he get here? The squad cars were big and heavy, but nothing much moved in this sort of weather.
Half an hour past. Forty-five minutes. Meg’s contractions dropped to five minutes apart. This baby wanted to be born, though Katie couldn’t imagine the world she’d be thrust into. Her father was a batterer who beat the child’s mother senseless. Her mother was a young girl barely old enough to comprehend the facts of life, now in charge of another innocent life. What chance did this child have to survive all that the world could throw his way? What chance without the knowledge that God had a plan for his life and that he was a living, breathing, worthy soul sent for a purpose?
But for what purpose?
And who would be there to guide, teach, and love this baby as she grew into adulthood?
Could Meg, a child herself, begin to fill that role, or would circumstances and a string of bad choices defeat her before the process even began?
Please, God, help Ben get here.
Katie could picture him racing through the night, slipping, sliding, and risking his life on icy rural roads to meet a need. Her need.
A thought hit her. He hadn’t even asked why she needed him.
He was accustomed to being at the public’s beck and call.
That was it. He was accustomed to being awakened from a sound sleep by hysterical women.
The small hand on the clock edged closer to two a.m. Still no headlights appeared in the drive. Meg’s pains were closer, three and half minutes apart. The young girl lay for awhile, and then got up to pace. The house was cold and miserable. Ruth, Tottie, and Janet, wrapped in wool blankets, took turns looking out the window.
Twenty-Two
Finally car lights flashed at the end of the drive. Katie grabbed her coat and raced to the back door. The sleet had frozen the screen shut. She banged her way free and braved the howling wind.
Her feet slipped and she went down. Grunting, she grabbed hold of a nearby stump and pulled up, losing her footing a second time and slicing her hand in the process. Fresh blood mingled with newly fallen snow.
She found a tissue in her pocket and wrapped it around the cut, then ran on.
When she reached the hill, Ben was at the bottom, kneeling at the back bumper.
“Where’s the sedan?”
“It wouldn’t make it on these roads. I borrowed Bill’s pickup.”
“Can you make it up the hill?” she shouted over the relentless storm.
“Can’t — barely made it this far. The back wheels are stuck.”
He slid back behind the wheel and revved the engine as he rocked the vehicle back and forth. On the third attempt, the wheels released from the heavy ice pack. Ben waved. “What’s going on?”
“Meg’s in premature labor! Can you get her to the hospital?”
He shook his head, then after a moment said, “It’s rough going, but if I stick to the main road, I can get her there.”
The main road would be the long way, but Katie didn’t want to deliver the child here. “I’ll get her!” She whirled and made her way back up the incline, slipping and sliding.
How will I get Meg down the hill without her falling? DearGod, I need mercy! If you’ ll help me and Ben get her to the hospitalsafely, I’ ll never think a bad thought about Ben ever again.
Tottie and Janet had the waiting Meg ready. She was bundled and padded so tightly that if she did fall she’d just roll without injury. Ruth, dressed in coat and boots, was ready to help. Katie took Meg’s hand. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Her voice trembled like a leaf in a hurricane.
“Hang in there.” A burst of snow blinded them when they maneuvered her out the back door. No one could hear above the shrieking wind. Katie took Meg’s left side and Ruth her right side. The women started inching the mother-to-be down the incline. The whole world had turned into an ice skating rink. Boots slipped. Heavy tread shoes couldn’t find traction. Ben climbed to meet them. Meg almost went down. Pausing, the sheriff scooped the bundled woman up in his arms and carried her the remaining distance.
Warm air rushed from the heater as Katie climbed into the front seat of the big GMC. Ben grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Meg, taking a moment to say something to her. Katie couldn’t hear the comment, but whatever he’d said seemed to calm her.
He slid behind the wheel and turned around in the middle of the drive. Then the three were off. Meg lay across Katie’s lap, moaning. The pains were close now, dangerously close. Katie, pressed to Ben’s side, whispered, “Do you know how to deliver a baby?”
Meg moaned.
“I’ve delivered my share.”
“Thank goodness.” She leaned back, breathing easier. Meg would be safe, barring complications.<
br />
The truck took a mean slide, but Ben managed the wheel and brought it around without incident. There were two hospitals in the area, Campbell County Memorial in Gillette or one in Sundance with a sixteen-bed unit. At this rate, they’d never make it to either one.
Little Bush’s city limits came into sight, and Ben announced, “I’m calling Doctor Meadows.”
Katie nodded. Doctor Meadows ran the local clinic and gave Meg her monthly checkups. The facility wouldn’t have the needed equipment to treat a preemie, but the infant could be transported by air when the storm abated. Ben got on the CB and barked orders to a dispatcher to have the doctor at the clinic when they arrived at, he estimated, 2:45 a.m.
When the truck pulled in front of the clinic and braked, Ben was out in a flash to gather Meg in his arms. He was halfway into the lighted clinic by the time Katie caught up.
Twenty-Three
Doctor Meadows took one look at the situation and motioned for Ben to carry the patient to the examining room. Katie collapsed in a nearby chair, exhausted.
And worried.
And cold. Her feet felt like two snow cones. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be a mother. It sounded terribly painful.
Ben emerged and took the chair beside her. Removing his hat, he ran his fingers through his hair. Katie noticed his hairline was receding, which was normal for a man his age, but he had nice hair. Thick. The color of red clay. “What does the doctor think?”
“He’s given her a shot of ritodine to stop labor. She’s got what? Four, five more weeks before her due date?”
Katie rested her head against the paneled wall. “Something like that. Poor kid. Trouble won’t let her alone.”
“Yeah, I feel sorry for her. She’s scared.”
Katie remembered she’d promised to stay with her. She got up, but Ben blocked her efforts. “Doc said he’d let us know when anyone could stay with her.”
Katie sank back in the chair. “I need to call Tottie. They’ll be wondering if we got here safely.” But when she opened her cell, she saw there was no signal.
“Darn storm. The phone lines are down too.” She pocketed the phone. Silence fell. They sat side by side waiting for news.
Ben fiddled with his watch. “Meadows alerted Sundance. They’re prepared to receive the baby if it comes now. They’ll send a copter when the storm lets up.”
“Good.” Meg had caught a break. “But he’s trying to prevent the birth, right.”
“Right.”
More silence. Katie felt she should make conversation, but she had ignored Ben for so long, she didn’t know what to talk about. Yet she desperately needed to thank him. She couldn’t fathom what would have happened if he had not come to the rescue.
“Ben.”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you. I didn’t explain why I needed you to come on such short notice and with the storm — well, you came anyway.”
“That’s my job.”
Maybe, but Katie thought it went deeper than that. She wasn’t a fool. Ben had been around since their kindergarten days. He was always the one in the trouble chair, and until he was in the second grade, he’d never enjoyed a full recess. He sat on the concentration cushion half of his third grade year. By fourth grade he’d figured out his mistakes, and other than recesses, he’d behaved himself. He never, except on rare occasions, corrected the teacher. And to prove his repentance, he declared that he never, personally, shot out another school window.
But there was the one peculiar incident when he and another kid were accused of putting an illegal cherry bomb in a hall locker and blowing it to smithereens. However, nobody could ever prove it, and the incident was never repeated.
Locals ceased to wonder if Ben would ever change. In an overwhelming vote, they harnessed his energy and made him county sheriff — the best Crook County had ever elected.
A picture of Meg with Ben flashed in Katie’s mind. Meg and Ben. Now wouldn’t that be something … Both free-spirited, both adventurous.
Both in need of love. Doctor Meadows emerged a short time later. “I don’t know — the medication has slowed her contractions. Let’s give it a while before I transport her to Crook Memorial.”
Katie nodded. “Can I sit with her?”
“You can, but she’s exhausted right now. Why don’t you wait awhile longer?”
“Of course.”
The doctor left, and Katie reached for a magazine and prepared for the long night that by now was half over.
Twenty-Four
Ben stretched. “You want some coffee?”
“I’d love some.” She eyed the empty clinic pot that looked as though it had boiled dry. “Want me to make a fresh pot?”
“I’ll get some.” He stood up, slipped on his hat, and left the clinic. Katie thumbed through outdated issues of Prevention and Junior Scholastic. Like Ben was going to find fresh coffeein Little Bush at this hour. Twenty minutes passed before he returned balancing two large foam cups. Handing one to her, he set his down and slipped out of his jacket.
“Are you staying?”
“Might as well keep you company. I’m on duty in a couple of hours.”
She grinned. “Thank you. I could use the company.” She took a sip of coffee, and her taste buds exploded. Latte.
Latte.
She sipped and sipped again, closed her eyes, sipped again. “Where did you get a latte this hour of the night and in Little Bush?”
“I have a key to the coffee shop.”
She turned to gape. “You have a key to the coffee shop?”
“Yeah, I might need to get in there some night. Rita gave me the key and told me to help myself.”
Ben didn’t know it, but he might as well have said that he was heir to Bill Gate’s empire, and she was the last woman on earth. The impact generated the same reaction. Unlimited lattes. Free lattes.
“I love lattes.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Half the town knows.”
“I can’t have them anymore — well, one a day, but that only makes me want more. So I’ve decided to give them up completely, but then I know I won’t.” She took another leisurely swallow.
“Why can’t you have them anymore? Too much sugar?”
“No. They cost too much.”
How did he know that lattes were her weakness? She took another sip. Had he been following her? Wait. Was he the one who’d been stalking her? Not Neil Townsend and not one of the other abusers. Ben?
She stole a sidewise look at him. Possible. He had every opportunity — nah. Not Ben. He wouldn’t bother stalking her. He’d rather pester her. He wouldn’t hurt a flea unless the flea broke the law. Then he’d hurt him. In school he was ornery and couldn’t focus, but he was never mean or spiteful. She’d seen him deal with hard-core criminals with more compassion than she would have felt. Tough. Yes. But fair-minded.
Get real. Ben would not try to scare you. He isn’t so gung hoto date you that he’d resort to criminal intent. Lack of female companionship didn’t affect the sheriff. The number of single, available women in Little Bush was limited, but not nonexistent. How many times had she heard Judy Lewis confess she’d marry the sheriff in a New York minute?
Katie warmed her hands on the cup. Lattes taste better when shared. Everything in her life was serious talk — counseling the women on problems that had temporary answers at best, fighting with the budget, wondering where she’d get money for a new roof. Her homeowners’ insurance probably didn’t cover ice since it was an act of nature. She took another sip. “I pray Doctor Meadows can get Meg’s labor stopped.”
Ben nodded. “That’s my prayer, but if it’s time for the child to be born, then it’s time.”
Katie smiled. “If Mary and Joseph would have had a car, do you suppose they would have slipped and slid to the manger?”
Ben picked up the game. “Would Joseph wade snow and ice three feet deep to carry Mary down a hill?”
Th
e game, born of worry and boredom, ceased when they ran out of similarities. Katie glanced at her watch. “It’s been two hours since the doctor talked to us.”
“He’ll be out if Meg’s condition changes.”
“Yeah.” She shifted, seeking a more comfortable position. Babies took their time deciding when they wanted to be born. “I need to count blessings instead of troubles.”
Ben looked up from a Junior Scholastic. “More troubles?”
“Part of the roof caved in tonight. All the excitement threw Meg into labor.”
He shook his head. “You do have your share of problems.”
“Yeah.” She put her hands in her pockets and stared at the ceiling. “I have no idea where I’ll get the money to repair it. Tottie says our insurance probably doesn’t cover acts of nature, but she’ll check in the morning. I’m hoping the barn roof holds. Clara has returned to politics, and so I no longer have to fear someone is harassing me.”
He turned a page without looking up. “You still think Neil Townsend did the harassing?”
“Not Neil himself, one of his cronies. Someone he hired.” She lowered the magazine she’d picked up. “Don’t you?”
He shrugged.
“You don’t.”
“I didn’t say that, but I’m not convinced Neil was the one causing the trouble. There’s no other likely suspect at this time, though.”
“What about Meg’s boyfriend? Or Ruth’s and Janet’s husbands?”
“Meg’s boyfriend is doing twenty to thirty years in Folsom prison. When I checked on his status, he was in solitary confinement for attacking a guard. Ruth’s husband has the kid and hasn’t missed a day’s work in the past six months.”
“Janet’s husband?”
“The professor. He’s clean. He’s back in church Sunday mornings and wants to stay that way, my sources tell me. When I checked with Chicago police, they told me he’s behaving himself.”
Katie sank back. “Then it had to be Neil.”
Ben shrugged again. “Possibly, but not likely. The man had too much to lose. You witnessed the results when someone leaked the story to the press. He would have been a fool to harass you or anyone connected to his wife. You don’t take foolish risks when you’re a Neil Townsend.”
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