The Lawman's Convenient Bride. Christine Rimmer
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it was after two in the morning.
And something was...
She put her hands on her belly, felt the powerful, involuntary tightening, as though her body had a mind of its own.
“Dear, sweet God...”
With an animal growl, she threw back the covers and slithered to the floor, where she crouched like a crab on the bedside rug, groaning and huffing, fingers splayed over her rippling stomach as a second-stage contraction bore down like an extra pair of giant, cruel hands, pushing so hard she would have buckled under the pressure if she wasn’t already on her knees.
She panted her way through it, and when it was over, she realized there was liquid dripping down her inner thighs. Her water had broken.
Her water had broken.
And Clara had the flu, Elise was in New York, and Nellie had gone to Phoenix.
But not to panic. Uh-uh. She’d done this before and she could do it again.
One hand still on her belly, she reached up and grabbed her phone off the nightstand. And then she just sat there, half expecting to wake up in her bed and discover that she really wasn’t in active labor, after all; it was only a dream.
But then another one started.
Okay. No dream.
She used her phone to time that one as she squatted on the floor, moaning and grunting, the pain rising to a peak at thirty-two seconds, after which it faded back down. Once it was over, she estimated she had three to five minutes until the next one hit.
Time to find a ride to the hospital and then get in touch with her doctor—well, past time for both, actually.
But she refused to freak. Because there was nothing to be alarmed about. She was in labor, yes, but she had it under control. Her birth coaches might be unavailable, but at least there were plenty of people she could call. Even in the middle of the night, someone ought to be able to come pick her up and take her to Justice Creek General.
And if they weren’t, well, there was always Uber. Or 911.
She brought up her cousin Rory’s number and almost hit Call.
But then, for no comprehensible reason except that he kept insisting he really wanted to help, she scrolled down to Seth’s cell number and called him instead.
He answered on the first ring, sounding wide-awake—as though he’d been sitting up with his phone in his hand in the middle of the night, waiting for her to call. “Jody. What can I do?”
Her mind chose that moment to go blank. “I...need...”
“Anything. Yes.” His voice was so calm, so even and strong. She felt she could reach right through the phone and grab on to him to steady herself. “What do you need?”
It was a simple question, and she had the answer ready. Except when she opened her mouth it was like pulling wide the floodgates on a full dam. “Elise and Nellie are out of town, and Clara’s got the flu. I was going to call Rory, but then I thought of you and I...” He started to say something. But she didn’t let him. She babbled right over him. “They all think it’s my first and the first one always comes late, and I never corrected them, never told them. Because that’s kind of how I am, you know? I keep too much to myself, I want to have it together and take care of business, and I end up pushing people away because I’m so self-sufficient. And now here I am on the bedroom floor, dripping all over the rug, without my birth coaches in the middle of the night. It’s like I’m being punished by fate for lying to everyone about the first one, you know?”
“Jody.”
“Um?”
“What do you mean, dripping?”
The note of alarm in his voice had her rushing to reassure him. “It’s not that much. I exaggerated.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“You’re probably right.”
“And, Jody, you said ‘the first one.’ The first what?”
“Baby,” she blurted out and then slapped her hand over her big, fat mouth. Oh, God. She hadn’t even told her sisters, and here she was, blathering it all out to Seth, who might want to help and all but still remained essentially a stranger to her.
“So,” he tried again, clueless but still determined to stick with her and give her whatever she’d called him in the middle of the night to get. “Are you saying you feel guilty because—”
“Never mind. Doesn’t matter. It’s not why I called.”
Dead silence. Then, “Okay. Let’s go with that. Why did you call?”
Seriously? He really didn’t know? “Seth, take a wild guess.”
“I...” He was totally at a loss.
She was messing with him, and she really needed to stop. “I’m in labor. I’m having my baby, like right now, tonight, and I wonder if—”
“Wait. What? Are you all right?” Now he really was freaked. “Is there bleeding? Do you need an ambulance?”
“No. Yes! I mean, I’m fine. There’s no blood.”
“But you mentioned dripping...”
“It’s not blood—it’s amniotic fluid. My water broke. It happens. You said you wanted to help, and I need someone to give me a ride to the hospital, and I thought—”
“Wait. You’re not due for a month, you said.”
“I’m at thirty-six weeks and going into labor now is perfectly normal.”
“It is?”
“Believe me, if it wasn’t, I’d have already called 911.”
Another deep silence. And finally, “All right, then.” His voice was dead calm again. Like he’d flipped a switch from frantic future step-uncle back to law-enforcement professional, a man with a job to do and no time to waste on the vagaries of human emotion. “Are you at home?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t give me your address.” She rattled it off. “Okay, then. Fifteen minutes, I’ll be there. Did you call your doctor?”
“I will. As soon as I hang up and get through this next contrac—” A ragged yelp escaped her.
“Jody. Are you still with me?”
“Right here,” she grunted.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine—except for, you know, having a baby.”
“Tell me honestly. Do you need an ambulance?”
Given the pressure bearing down on her uterus, she longed to scream, Yes! But she’d done this before. It felt normal, if having a baby could ever be called such a thing. “I just need a ride, okay? And I need a ride soon.”
“I’m on my way.”
* * *
Fourteen minutes later, she’d been through three more contractions, in between which she’d called her doctor, wiped up the dripped-on rug, put on a maxi-pad, yoga pants and a big shirt and carried her already-packed suitcase to the front door. Not bad for a woman in active labor.
She was crouched in the front hall, panting her way through the next contraction, when the doorbell rang. “It’s open!” she shrieked and panted some more.
The door swung back, and she was looking at Seth’s boots. “Jody? Are you—”
“Kind of busy here...” She waved