by Kat Brookes
She sank back into the sofa, a hand pressed to her swollen belly. “It’s okay,” she said shakily. At least, she prayed it was.
“Another pain?” he asked with a frown.
Jackson’s gaze dropped to the blanket covering the rounded swell of her stomach and his thick brows shot upward, clearly noticing her condition for the first time since she’d been carried in. “Is that... I mean is she...?”
“Pregnant?” Garrett finished for him. “Yes. And, despite her reassurance otherwise, I think she might be in labor.” He looked down at her. “Hannah? Should I call 911?”
His brother’s eyes snapped up, some of the color leaving his tanned face. “Labor? As in, having her baby right now?”
Dear Lord, I hope not. Hannah shook her head, refusing to believe that was the case. “I don’t think there’s any need to do that. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately. And then getting caught up in that flood, well, I’m sure they’re just false labor pains. I’m not even close to my due date yet.”
Jackson looked relieved. Garrett, on the other hand, didn’t appear to be as accepting of her reply.
“We should call your husband,” Garrett said. “Let him know you and the baby are safe.”
“I’m not married,” she replied.
“I see,” he said with a quick glance at her rounded abdomen.
Warmth blossomed in her cheeks. “The baby’s not mine.” The second the words left her mouth she realized how untrue they were. The child growing inside her womb was hers now, for as long as the good Lord willed it to be.
The two men exchanged glances. Not that she blamed them. She knew how that last statement had to sound to them.
“The baby was my sister’s,” she explained, tears filling her eyes. “She and her husband had tried for so long to have a child, but she could never carry to term. So, when the doctor suggested they look into finding a gestational surrogate to carry their baby for them, I knew I wanted to do this for her.”
“Was your sister’s?” Garrett replied with a gentle query.
Her hand went protectively to her stomach as she choked out the words, “Heather and Brian died three months ago in a car accident.”
“Hannah,” Garrett groaned. “I’m so sorry.”
She brushed a stray tear from her cheek. “I’ll manage.”
“Alone?”
“Women raise children alone every day.” She ran her hand over her stomach, a knot forming in her throat. “This child is all I have left of my sister. I’ll do whatever it takes to make his life one filled with love and happiness.”
“Is there someone else we could call for you?” Jackson asked.
Her gaze dropped to the floor between them. “No.”
“No one?” Garrett pressed worriedly.
“It’s just my father and me, and he’s been really sick with a virus. Probably brought on by all the stress of dealing with my sister’s recent death,” she said. “It’s been so very hard on him. Especially since we lost my mother a little over a year past. I won’t have him worrying himself even sicker over me when I’m perfectly fine. Just carless.”
Garrett nodded in understanding, yet the worried frown remained fixed on his handsome face. “We’ll see what we can do in the morning about getting your car out of there.”
“If it’s still there,” she said with a shudder.
“Either way,” he agreed, “it’s not going to be drivable. You’ll be needing a rental car to get back to...”
“Steamboat Springs,” she supplied.
“You’re a ways from home,” Jackson said.
Hannah felt another twinge starting. Please, oh, please, make it stop. “There was something I needed to do,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm when she felt the panic washing over her. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to freshen up a little bit.” And take a moment alone to collect herself. Stress wasn’t good for the baby and she’d been under so much of it. Was it any wonder she was experiencing premature labor pains?
Jackson motioned toward the doorway. “Take a left down the hall. The bathroom will be the second door on your right. In the meantime, can I offer you something to drink?”
“I think I might have a few packets of tea left in the cupboard,” Jackson replied. “Can I fix you a cup of chamomile tea?”
“It would help to take the chill off,” she said, another sharp pinch squeezing at her abdomen. Maybe she should ask Garrett if he could drive her to the hospital once the rain slowed, just to be sure she wasn’t in true labor. “But I hate to impose on you any more than I have already.”
“You’re not imposing,” he replied. “I like having company. I’m a social butterfly, remember?” he said with a glance in Garrett’s direction, causing his brother’s mouth to quirk in a barely suppressed grin. Then he turned back to Hannah. “That being the case, I just wish we had been able to meet under better circumstances.”
She nodded. “Agreed.” When the viselike grip took hold of her stomach, Hannah fought the urge to groan aloud. Shoving aside the blanket Garrett had lent her in the truck, she made a quick adjustment to the leather strap of her purse, securing it atop her shoulder as she pushed awkwardly to her feet.
Garrett reached out to steady her.
“Thank you.”
“Do you need me to walk you down the hall?”
Shaking her head, she lifted her gaze to meet his. “There’s no need. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t think—” he began, only to be cut off by his brother.
“Why don’t we go fix that tea Hannah said she’d like to help take the chill away?”
“It doesn’t take two of us to make a cup of tea,” Garrett argued with a frown.
His younger brother arched a warning brow.
Reluctantly, Garrett stepped aside, watching worriedly as Hannah made her way past him and out of the room.
“I’ll tell you right now,” she heard him say as she walked away, “The cowboy in me doesn’t like leaving her to fend for herself in her condition. Not one little bit.”
Thank the Lord for cowboys. If not for men like Garrett Wade, she might have lost more than her own life. She would have lost the baby Heather had prayed so long for.
Chapter Two
Garrett glanced up from where he sat at the edge of the sofa, waiting on Hannah’s return, when his brother came back into the room carrying a steaming ceramic mug.
Jackson glanced around. “Not back yet?”
“No,” he muttered with a frown, his gaze moving past his brother to the entryway.
He followed the line of Garrett’s gaze with a deepening frown. “Maybe you should go check on her.”
He wanted to. Would feel a whole lot better if he did. But Hannah had assured him that she was fine. He had to take her word for it. “Best give her a little time,” he told his brother. “She’s been through quite an ordeal. I’m sure she just needs a little extra privacy to sort through all of her emotions.”
“You’re probably right,” Jackson agreed with a nod as he placed the mug onto the coffee table and then settled into a nearby recliner.
Garrett sat staring at the paper tag that dangled over the rim of the stoneware cup as the tea steeped. Rain pinged against the windowpane as the storm continued on outside. Beside him, the clock over the fireplace mantel ticked away the minutes. Too many minutes. What if Hannah’s legs had given out on her again? What if she’d fainted from all the stress she’d been under? Losing her sister and brother-in-law, suddenly finding herself in the role of mother-to-be, nearly dying in a flash flood.
“Maybe I will go check on her,” he announced and was just about to shove to his feet when Hannah, face alarmingly pale, stepped into the doorway.
The sight of her wan complexion and fearful eyes had both men shooting to their feet.
“Hannah?” Garrett
inquired as he moved toward her.
She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. “I think my water just broke.”
It took a moment for her words to sink in. Dear Lord. “You think?” Maybe she was mistaken.
“I’m pretty sure it did,” she said shakily.
He crossed the room to where she stood trembling. “Everything’s going to be okay.” He prayed he sounded more confident than he felt at that moment.
“I’ll call 911,” his brother said as he pulled his cell phone from his jeans pocket.
“I’ll take her to the guest room,” Garrett replied with a worried frown as he scooped Hannah up into his arms, using the utmost of care. Since her water had broken, he thought it best she not walk around.
She trembled against him as he carried her back down the hall to one of the guest rooms.
“I’m so sorry,” she said against his shirtfront with a hiccupping sob.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he assured her as he lowered her quaking form onto one of the twin beds lining the walls. “Are you in pain?”
“Not at the moment,” she choked out as she curled up on her side.
“But you’re still having contractions?” he deduced.
“Yes,” she confirmed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “And they’re coming closer together.”
He didn’t have the means to stop, or even slow her contractions. And with her water having broken, there was no turning back. Hannah was having her baby whether she was ready for it or not. “Looks like you’re about to bring that little one into the world. We’ll need to start timing them.”
Her hand shot out, grasping at the sleeve of his shirt. “He can’t come yet. It’s too soon.”
“Babies come early sometimes,” he said calmly when he was anything but. Still, he felt the need to say something, anything, to ease the fear he saw in those large, green eyes of hers. “They just need a little extra seeing to. As soon as the ambulance gets here...” he began, the words drifting off as her troubled gaze left his. Garrett turned to see his brother standing in the open doorway, looking nearly as pale as Hannah had only moments before.
“There’s a tree down across Miller Road,” his brother said evenly. “No through traffic.”
“We’ve got chainsaws,” Garrett said determinedly. “We can see to it.”
“Please don’t leave me,” Hannah blurted out, her grasp on his shirtsleeve tightening.
Jackson stepped farther into the room, shaking his head. “We won’t.” He looked to his brother. “Can’t actually. The tree brought several wires down with it, some of which are hot. The electric company is sending out an emergency crew. Once that’s been taken care of, the tree can be safely cleared away and the ambulance can get through. Until then...” He let the words trail off.
“We’re on our own,” Garrett muttered in understanding.
Another gasp pushed through Hannah’s pinched lips, drawing both men’s gazes her way.
“Aren’t you going to do something?” Jackson demanded of his brother.
Garrett forced his gaze to his brother. “Me?”
Jackson glanced over at Hannah, his expression one of concern. “You’re a doctor. Help her.”
“You’re a doctor?” Hannah repeated, sounding so hopeful.
He shot his brother a chastising look before turning back to Hannah. “I’m a veterinarian. The only babies I have ever delivered are the four-legged kind.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “Jackson, head on over to Mom and Dad’s and let them know what’s going on. Bring Mom back with you. If anyone knows about birthing babies, it’s her.” She had chosen to deliver her two youngest sons at home with only the help of Mrs. Wilton, a friend of his mother’s who was a midwife.
“Garrett, I would never forgive myself if they got caught up in a flash flood on their way back here to help me.”
“They’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Go,” he said to Jackson. As soon as his brother took his leave, Garrett turned back to Hannah. “Our parents live just a short distance up the road in the direction opposite from the rising creek.”
“Jackson will have Mom back here in no time. In the meantime, we’ll need to give your ob-gyn a call to let him know what’s going on.”
“Her,” she said with a soft sniffle. Releasing the hold she probably hadn’t realized she still had on his sleeve, she reached into her purse to retrieve her phone. Her hands were trembling so hard, it appeared to be all Hannah could do to hold on to it as she brought up her contact list. She lifted her gaze to his. “Would you mind calling for me?”
He reached for the phone and glanced down at the names on the screen. “Dr. Farland?”
“Yes. That’s her,” she said.
As he made the call, Garrett prayed the Lord would continue to keep her and her unborn child safe. He had told her everything would be all right, but that decision lay in far greater hands than his own.
* * *
“Garrett?” he heard his mother call out as Jackson’s front door banged open. Scurrying footsteps followed.
He looked up from where he sat in a chair next to Hannah’s prone form to see his mother, followed by Jackson, spill into the room, twenty minutes after his brother had gone to get her.
Hannah, whose long, dark russet hair now hung in sweat-dampened ringlets around her face, accentuating her large, pain-filled eyes, attempted to sit up.
“Don’t get up on my account,” Emma Wade immediately protested with a staying hand as she crossed the room. Then, after taking a good look at the woman Garrett had rescued from near tragedy, said, “You must be Hannah.”
“Yes.”
“Such a pretty name.” With a warm, motherly smile, she introduced herself.
Hannah nodded, unable to speak as a groan slid past her tightly compressed lips.
Garrett couldn’t suppress his worried frown as he looked up at his mother. “Her pains are coming about six minutes apart.”
“Then I’m here just in time to take over,” his mother said, giving his arm a comforting pat.
“I’ll just wait out on the front porch,” Jackson said as he backed out through the open door.
Garrett started to stand, to join his brother, but Hannah latched on to his hand, her grip firm. He glanced down to find glistening, fear-filled eyes staring back at him, and he couldn’t bring himself to leave her side.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. Just then, thunder rumbled outside, rattling the windowpane and Garrett was pulled back to the past.
“I’m scared.”
“You’re going to be okay, Grace. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised. And then she was gone.
A firm hand came to rest on Garrett’s shoulder, pulling him back to the moment. “Honey,” his mother said softly beside him, “I’ll see to Hannah now. Why don’t you go wait with your brother and watch for the ambulance to get here? They might get the road cleared sooner than expected.”
He looked to Hannah, torn between the need to stay with her and the need to distance himself from the bad he knew could happen so unexpectedly.
“It’s okay,” Hannah said, slowly slipping her hand from his. “I’ll be fine.” She sent an appreciative smile to his mother.
If it was okay then why did he feel like he still needed to do more?
Before Garrett could respond, Autumn, new bride of his youngest brother, Tucker, stepped into the room. “Water is heating on the stove.”
“Thank you, honey,” his mother replied.
“Jackson called you and Tucker, too?” Garrett asked with a frown.
“He didn’t call them,” his mother replied as she returned to Garrett’s side. “I did. I thought it would be good to have another woman here to help out, just in case the ambulance hasn’t arrived by the time Hannah’s little
one is ready to make his grand entrance into the world.”
“And Blue?” he asked, referring to his niece, Tucker’s little girl.
“Is back at the house, coloring with her grandpa,” Autumn answered.
“Hannah, honey,” his mother said, “this is my daughter-in-law, Autumn.”
“I’m so sorry you all had to come out on a day like this,” Hannah said, tears filling her eyes. Before either Autumn or his mother could reply, she gasped, and then clutched at the mound beneath the blanket he’d covered her with while they had waited for his mother to get there. Her pretty face contorted in pain, and her breaths became panicked, coming short and fast.
His mother nudged him from the chair. “Time for you to go join your brothers out on the porch.”
He nodded and stood, knowing his mother was right. He needed to leave the room, but it was killing him to do so. His gaze moved once more to Hannah and the pain he saw there grabbed at his heart. Lord, please find it in Your heart to ease her pain. He looked to his mother. “Call me if you need my help.”
“I will,” she said calmly.
“Garrett,” Autumn said softly from behind him.
He turned to look at his sister-in-law.
She offered a calming smile and said in that sweet, Texas-accented voice, “Your momma and I are gonna take real good care of Hannah and her little one.”
“Honey,” his mother said as she settled into the chair he had just vacated, “ask Jackson if he has a hair dryer. I don’t want Hannah catching a chill with her damp hair. We’re going to be needing some clean towels, and something to cut and then clamp the umbilical cord with. Sterilize them with rubbing alcohol, if your brother has a bottle of it on hand. And please ask Jackson to bring us that water Tucker put on the stove to boil.”
“I’ll see to it,” he replied, grateful to have something to do other than just stand around wondering when the ambulance was going to get there. He just prayed it would be soon.