Mountain Midwife. Cassie Miles
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looked panicked. “Is this normal?”
“The pushing? Or the I-hate-men tirade?”
“Both.”
“Very typical. I bet you’re glad you took the gun away.”
“Hell, yes.”
A mere two hours after Rachel had arrived at the house, Penny gave birth to an average-sized baby girl with a healthy set of lungs.
Though Rachel had participated in well over two hundred births, this moment never failed to amaze her. The emergence of new life gave meaning to all existence.
Postpartum was also a time that required special attention on the part of the midwife. Penny was leaking blood onto the rubber sheet they’d spread across the bed. Hemorrhage was always a danger.
Rachel held the newborn toward Cole. “Take the baby. I need to deal with Penny.”
Dumbstruck, he held the wriggling infant close to his chest. His gaze met hers. In his eyes, she saw a reflection of her own wonderment, and she appreciated his honest reverence for the miracle of life. For a tough guy, he was sensitive.
Her focus right now was on the mother. Rachel urged, “You need to push again.”
“No way.” With a sob, Penny covered her eyes with her forearm. “I can’t.”
She had to expel the afterbirth. As Rachel massaged the uterus, she felt the muscles contract, naturally doing what was necessary. The placenta slipped out. Gradually, the bleeding slowed and stopped.
Cole stood behind her shoulder, watching with concern. “Is she going to be okay?”
“They both are.”
Penny forced herself into a sitting position with pillows behind her back. “I want my baby.”
With Cole’s help, Rachel clipped the cord, washed the infant and cleared her nose of mucus. The rest of the cleanup could wait. She settled the new baby on Penny’s breast.
As mother and child cooed to each other, she turned toward Cole in time to see him swipe away a tear. Turning away, he said, “I’ll tell the others.”
“Whoa, there. You’re not leaving me with all the mess to clean up.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Rachel sank into a chair beside the bed and watched the bonding of mother and child. Though Penny hadn’t seemed the least bit maternal, her expression was serene and gentle.
“Do you have a name?” Rachel asked.
“Goldie. She’s my golden child.”
From the other room, she heard the men arguing loudly. Catching bits of their conversation, Rachel got the idea that they were tired of waiting around. Bad news for her.
When the gang was on the run again, they had no further need for a midwife. She was afraid to think of what might happen next.
Chapter Three
In the bedroom, Cole stood at the window and looked out into a deep, dark forest. Fresh snow piled up on the sill. He could hardly believe that he was considering an escape into that freezing darkness. He lived in L.A., where his only contact with snow was the occasional snowboarding trip to Big Bear Lake. He hated the cold.
A month ago, when the FBI office in Denver tapped him for this undercover assignment, he’d tried to wriggle out of it. But they’d needed an agent who was an unfamiliar face in the western states. The operating theory was that someone inside the FBI was connected to the spree of casino and bank robberies.
He stepped away from the window and began repacking Rachel’s medical equipment in the cases from her van. Both of the women were in the bathroom, chatting about benefits of breast feeding and how to use the pump. As he eavesdropped, he marveled at how normal their conversation sounded. For the moment, Penny wasn’t a hardened criminal and Rachel wasn’t a kidnap victim. They were just two women, talking about babies.
And he was just an average guy—shocked and amazed by the mysteries of childbirth. He didn’t have words to describe how he’d felt when Goldie was born. He forgot where he was and why he was there. Watching the newborn take her first breath had amazed him. Her cry was the voice of an angel. Pure and innocent.
In that moment, he wanted to protect Penny instead of taking her into FBI custody.
And then there was Rachel. Slender but muscular, she moved with a natural grace. Her short, dark hair made her blue eyes look huge, even though she wasn’t wearing any makeup. He felt guilty as hell for dragging her into this mess. Top priority for him was to make sure Rachel escaped unharmed.
From the bathroom, he overheard her say, “Your body needs time to recover, Penny. You should spend time in bed, relaxing.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Will the men agree to let you sleep tonight?”
“They’ll do what I say,” Penny said airily. “They can’t leave me behind.”
“Why not?” Rachel asked.
“Because I’m the only one who knows where the money is hidden.”
Cole feared that her confidence might be misplaced. Frank and the other two were anxious to get going. No doubt, they could force Penny to tell them about the stash from five different robberies in three states.
Rachel seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “What if they threaten you?”
“They wouldn’t dare. My baby’s father is the head honcho. The big boss. If anybody hurts me, they’ll answer to him.”
Cole held his breath. Say his name, Penny. He needed to know the identity of the criminal mastermind who controlled this gang and at least five others. They referred to him as Baron, and he was famous for taking bloody revenge on those who betrayed him. Cole’s reason for joining this gang of misfits was to infiltrate the upper levels of the organization and get evidence that could be used against Baron.
Rachel asked, “Does he know about Goldie?”
“Don’t you remember? I told you all about Baron, about how we met. Damn, Rachel. You should learn to pay attention.”
“Sorry,” she murmured.
“He loves me. After this job, he promised to take me home with him, to raise our baby.”
“Is that what you want?”
“You bet it is.” Penny giggled. “Want to know a secret? A little while ago, I called Baron and told him about Goldie. He’s coming here. He ought to be here any minute.”
Not good news. Cole might have been able to convince the others in the gang to release Rachel. These guys weren’t killers, except for Frank. Baron was a different story; he wouldn’t leave a witness alive.
From the bathroom, he heard Rachel ask, “How does he know where you are? Cole said this house wasn’t a scheduled stop.”
“Simple,” Penny replied. “This is Baron’s house.”
That was all Cole needed to hear. He could find Baron’s identity by checking property records. As far as he was concerned, his undercover assignment was over. He reached into his jeans pocket, took out his cell phone.
This wasn’t an everyday cell. Though Cole didn’t need a lot of fancy apps, he’d used the geniuses at the FBI to modify his phone to suit his specific needs.
The first modification: He could disable the GPS locator. Unless he had it turned on, he couldn’t be tracked. His handler—Agent Ted Waxman in L.A.—wasn’t thrilled with the need for secrecy, but Cole needed to be sure his cover wouldn’t be blown by some federal agent jumping the gun.
Second,