Saving Dr. Ryan. Karen Templeton
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inside. He took a precious moment to crouch in front of them again, gently squeezing the boy’s shoulder, smiling into the little girl’s huge, frightened eyes. “Stay right here,” he softly commanded, then bolted out into the driving rain before the boy had a chance to protest.
The steering wheel bit into Maddie Kincaid’s palms as she choked back a bitter scream. Despite the piercing, damp cold inside the old Impala, sweat drenched her flannel nightgown underneath her car coat. The pains had come on so sudden, her only thought had been to get out, get help. She hadn’t even bothered to put on socks—if she could’ve bent over to begin with—and now her feet felt like Popsicles inside her canvas slip-ons.
The pain crested, passed. On a deep, panicky sigh, she leaned her head on the back of the seat, determined not to cry, even though it was highly unlikely anybody’d hear her over the hammering rain and wind. She’d never meant to send Noah and Katie Grace out in the storm, but they’d been gone before she could stop them. At least she’d remembered seeing the office sign in front of the slightly dilapidated, two-story house when she’d passed it yesterday. Something to be grateful for, at least.
But—a blast of wind plastered another layer of leaves to the windshield—what if nobody was home? What if she had to deliver this baby herself, right here, and take care of two other children besides?
Something like a laugh tried to well up in her throat. Just when you think things can’t possibly get any worse…
“Oh, God, oh, God, oh God,” she whimpered, rolling her head back and forth, only to suck in a sharp breath when the next pain began clawing its way through her belly. Her labor with the first two had been nothing like this. Especially Noah’s. All that walking, trying to get things moving—
The scream escaped this time as fire blazed through her crotch. She tried to get on top of the contraction, to focus her breathing, as the searing pain obliterated everything but itself—
The car door flew open, sending chilled air and wet leaves swirling inside; a large male hand landed on her rock-hard belly, provoking a little yelp. She glanced over, registering little more than pale eyes, a hard-set mouth and prickly cheeks, all shadowed by a cowboy hat. “Where’re my kids?” she managed through clenched teeth.
“Inside. Safe.”
“Alone?” Fear surged through her, more intense even than the contractions. “They’re scared to death of bein’ in a strange place by themselves! They’re—”
“Fine,” the man said quietly. “How far apart are they?” His voice was gentle, low. Totally lost on her. Sheets of water drummed relentlessly into the mud by the car, on the Impala’s hood and roof, irritating her no end. She realized the man’s hand still rested on her distended belly.
“I hope to heck this means you’re the doctor.”
“Looks like this is your lucky day, ma’am.” He removed his hand; she glanced over, saw he was squatting by the open car door. Rain streamed off his hat brim. “So.” Patience weighted the single word. “How far apart—?”
“I don’t know,” she bit out. “Constant, seems like.”
“Can you walk?”
“You think I’d’ve let my kids out in this rain if I could?”
No sooner were the words out than a pair of strong arms slipped around her, lifting her up and out of the car. With a little cry, Maddie tucked her head against the solid, firesmoke-scented chest, trying to avoid the pelting rain. The doctor cocooned her inside his jacket as best he could, plopped his hat on her head, then gently shifted her in his arms to slam the car door shut.
“Hang on,” he shouted over the din. “I’m gonna get you to the house as fast as possible, okay?”
Huddled underneath the coat, the precariously angled hat, Maddie nodded weakly, the pain mercifully subsiding for the minute or so it took for the trek to the house, set back from the road maybe a hundred feet or so.
But only for a minute. The instant they got inside, another contraction vised every muscle from her ribs to her knees. She bit her lip to keep from screaming in front of her babies, standing wide-eyed in the old-fashioned vestibule as the doctor swept her past them and down a narrow hallway. She was barely aware of the children’s sneakers beating a tattoo against the bare wood floor as they followed, Noah asking her over and over if she was all right.
“I’m fine, sugar,” she managed, somehow, even though she couldn’t see him. Still, she winced a little as the doctor lowered her onto the edge of a bed covered in a heavily textured bedspread, flinching in the sudden flash of a bedside lamp being turned on.
“You feel like pushing yet?”
She shook her head.
“Good. Means we got a minute.”
He helped her out of her coat, then disappeared. Seconds later, he was back with a pile of linens, what looked like some shirts or something, and his black bag, which he thunked onto the nightstand. Noah and Katie Grace stood rooted to the spot a few feet away, Katie with her thumb in her mouth. Water dripped from both their heads, had turned Noah’s gray sweatshirt—two sizes too big, but she’d found it for next to nothing at some yard sale—nearly black. Maddie moaned and struggled to get up. “They’re all wet—”
Another pain slammed into her, grabbing her breath. She doubled up, falling onto her side into the bed, mortified and aggravated and plain scared out of her wits. Her eyes clamped shut, but a tear or two still escaped. Through her nightgown sleeve, she felt a warm, steady touch, which she had to admit did calm her some.
“I’ll take care of it,” the doctor said. “You just concentrate on having this baby, you hear?” She managed a nod, the bedspread rough against her cheek. “Good. Water break yet?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Here—” A thick, white towel appeared in her line of sight. “In case it does while I’m tending to the kids.”
Maddie struggled to protest, but her body had other ideas. The next few minutes were reduced to disjointed impressions—a radiator clanking, rain slashing against the window, wet clothes plopping on the floor as the doctor soothed her frightened children. The fact that nobody had appeared to help him out. Like a wife or housekeeper. Or something.
Suddenly she felt a painless but decisive sensation in her lower belly, like a pin pricking a balloon; she barely managed to stuff the towel between her legs to catch the gush of warm liquid. She swiped at a tear trickling down the side of her nose, hating the thought of a stranger taking care of her children. Of her. That she had no choice in the matter.
More fluid seeped into the towel with the next contraction. Maddie only half watched, silently panting, as the doctor wrapped her children in warm blankets, settling them into an overstuffed armchair in the corner of the room, close to the sizzling radiator.
She heard the change in his voice, knew he’d seen.
“You two just snuggle up for a bit while I check out your mama. All right?”
“Yes, sir,” she heard from Noah, and relief trickled through her. He tended to be skittish around most men these days. Especially ones as big as Dr. Logan. Not that Maddie could blame him for that, she supposed.
Again, the doctor vanished, reappearing maybe a minute later. He fussed with something or other nearby, then turned to her, his thick, damp hair a dull gold in the weak light. He raked one hand through it, raising a field of curved spikes on the top of his head.
“I put the kids’ clothes in the dryer,” he said, his gaze snagging on the towel indelicately wadded between her legs, which for some reason provoked a low chuckle.
Maddie squeezed shut her eyes, breathed through the next wave of pain. “What’s so blamed funny?”
“My timing, looks like.” He grabbed another towel, replacing the first one. She opened her eyes to catch his