After the Storm. Lenora Worth
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I grew up in Atlanta.”
“Atlanta?” Her eyes grew wide again, and seemed even more green. Warily, she stared at him with a wild, anxious expression. “Where…what part of Atlanta?”
“North of the city. Buckhead.”
That seemed to satisfy her, even though she still looked almost afraid of him. Her eyes darted across the room, then back to his face, questioning and unsure.
“Look, you’re going to be fine,” Jared said, thinking she was probably worried about a stranger helping to deliver her baby. “I’ve never done this before with any animals or humans, but surely between the two of us, we can manage to bring your baby into the world.”
“I hope so,” she said, forcing a weak smile. “He must be ready to get going.” She grimaced, her gaze searching his face. “Do you have children?”
“No. I’m…not married.”
She stared up at him, as if measuring his credentials. “Why not?”
Jared shrugged, thinking that was a very good question. He could see Meredith’s tear-streaked face, could still hear her weak excuses. “Just never worked out that way. I’ve come close a couple of times, but—”
“You don’t have to explain,” she replied, her eyes widening with pain. “At least not right now.”
“Okay, then. How are you right now?”
“Not so hot. Waiting for the next wave.”
“You mean, a contraction?”
She nodded. “Book, down on the floor.”
Jared followed the direction of her finger. Moving around the bed, he glanced down and saw a big, dog-eared paperback book lying open-faced by the bed. He reached to pick it up, amazed by the title. “A how-to book, huh?”
“Yes. Find the page about giving birth at home.”
Jared stared sharp-eyed at the woman, then started searching the pages of the book. He was usually pretty good with directions, but…this? Delivering a baby? Suddenly, he realized the magnitude of the situation. What if he did something wrong, something to harm her or the baby?
“Are you sure we can’t get you to a hospital?” he asked. “My car’s stalled out in a big mud hole, but if you have one—”
“I don’t have a car.”
No phone. No car. This woman definitely lived the old-fashioned way.
“Do you think you could hold on until I try to get my SUV out of the bog?”
“No,” she said in a loud moan of pain. “No. This baby is coming now. Right now. Even if you got your car going, we’d never make it down the mountain to a hospital—the roads are probably washed out. I don’t think I could even make it the half mile to the doc’s clinic in the village. Now, are you going to argue with me or are you going to help me?”
Jared didn’t know how to answer that. He knew he’d have to assist her, but there must be a better way.
“Look, mister,” the woman said after the contraction had stopped, “all night long I’ve been praying for God to send me somebody. And now that you’re here, I don’t have time for you to decide if you’re up to the task. I need you to boil some water and get a pair of scissors out of the drawer by the sink in the kitchen. Then I need you to prop my bottom up with those sheets in that chair. Then I need you to—”
She stopped, mortification covering her face in a soft blush. “You’ll have to look in that closet by the rocking chair. There’s a piece of netting in there I was saving to put over the baby’s bassinet, to protect against bugs. You can place that over my…my…private parts.”
Jared had to smile at that endearing euphemism. “You want me to help you give birth through netting?”
“For modesty’s sake,” she said, her tone reasonable and defiant all at the same time. “I don’t know you, after all.”
“I’m Jared,” he said, enamored by her need to use discretion. Under the circumstances, he didn’t see how it could matter, but his grandmother had taught him to be a gentleman and so he’d abide by this woman’s wishes. “Jared Murdock,” he added. “I’ll try to keep my eyes closed until the big moment.”
“I’d appreciate that.” She leaned back, her face filled with weariness and strain. “I’m…Alisha Emerson.” Then she waited, as if expecting him to say or do something.
Jared thought he saw that trace of fear back in her eyes. Hoping to ease her worries, he said, “Nice to meet you, Alisha, although I must admit I never dreamed—”
She relaxed, a great sigh of relief seeming to wash over her body as she lay back and closed her eyes. “It’s about to start again. I have to do my breathing and concentrate. Soon I’m going to have to push. You’d better get those things we need.”
Before Jared could turn and do her bidding she let out a wail and sat up, huffing and holding her stomach. Jared rushed to the side of the bed. “Are you—”
She waved him away without a word, her pretty face contorted in agony. Jared watched her for a minute, noticing that she was focused on the cross hanging on the opposite wall from the bed. She’d said she’d prayed for God to send her someone to help her.
“Did it have to be me?” Jared asked the heavens as he went about finding a kettle to boil water. After fumbling with lighting the ancient stove, he continued to ponder that question. Alisha Emerson was obviously a woman who believed God actually sent people to help other people in need. Jared couldn’t wrap his practical, logical brain around that concept, but then nothing about this night was logical or practical. He’d booked this trip on impulse and anger, emotions he tried to avoid, hoping to find something familiar and comforting in these old woods, but he had taken a wrong turn and found the wrong cabin.
Or maybe the right one, he thought as he set the kettle to boil then hurried back to the bedroom and Alisha.
He didn’t seem to know her.
Alisha fell back as the contraction passed, thankful that the handsome stranger from Atlanta hadn’t recognized her name. She’d been so afraid, but this fear had nothing to do with having a stranger in her cabin. It had everything to do with wanting to keep the world at bay, though. Especially the world she’d left behind.
But she had lived on the other side of town, south of Atlanta, in Riverdale. People from Buckhead rarely kept up with the happenings south of Hartsfield International Airport.
But what if he did remember her? What if he’d read something in the papers? Connected on the name? There had been a couple of short, terse articles in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution just a few months ago. After that, things had died down. And she’d left the city for good.
It didn’t matter now. She had to take her chances. She needed this man’s help and he seemed willing to do what he could. At least, she wouldn’t have to go through this alone. Her baby had a better chance now. Believing God would show her the way, Alisha said a prayer of thanks, then hoped she wouldn’t regret letting Jared Murdock help her deliver this baby.
He came barreling back into the bedroom, dropping the scissors on a rag he’d brought from the kitchen. Carefully, he placed both on the table by the bed before he went to the closet. “The water is hot. I put it on low to let it keep boiling. Now where did you say that netting is?”
She pointed toward the small add-on closet. “Up on the top shelf.”
Alisha took the minutes between contractions to study her birthing partner. Tall, rugged, muscular. He had been wearing a nice black leather jacket, but it was gone now. His light-blue sweater, damp in spots from the rain, looked to be cashmere. His hair, still wet and glistening, was almost as dark as the jacket he’d had on. And so were his eyes. They reminded her of jagged coal