Page 5

I heard her release her breath slowly. Good. She’d been to classes. That would help things. And we needed all the help we could get.

“Zoe, it looks like your tummy is what’s stuck, am I right?”

She turned her head. All I could see was one dark eye glaring at me through a mass of dark hair. “Give the man a prize.”

I laughed again.

“I told you. No laughing.”

“Then stop being a smartass.”

“That might be a bit of a problem,” she muttered. “And yes, it’s the beachball that has me stuck.”

“Okay then. I’m going to grasp your hips and pull you straight up. You holler if anything I do hurts. Promise me?”

“Adam, there is nothing you can do that will hurt more than what mother nature is currently putting me through. You wouldn’t happen to have an epidural shot you can give me in your truck, now, would you?”

“I wish I could say I did. Now I’m going to put my hands on you. Are you ready?”

I watched her body begin to shudder, and she hissed out a string of more colorful swear words than I had ever heard in my time in the military. I would have been laughing again, except for knowing how much pain she was in.

“Those contractions are coming pretty close together.”

“Yeah,” she wheezed out. “And that’s not pee in my jeans, my water just broke.”

I didn’t ask her again if she was ready for me to help her out of the Jeep, we were past the point of niceties. I just put my hands on her hips and pulled her up. As soon as she was able, she turned around and gulped in air, her face red, her big brown eyes round and determined.

“Thanks. I think I should have waited for you to get my gloves.”

“Probably,” I agreed. “Are you ready for the climb to my truck? I think we only have about three minutes before your next contraction is going to hit.”

“You’re right. Let’s get this show on the road… Literally.”

I looked at her again. Behind the determination, I saw fear. Who in the hell could blame her? It was a terrifying situation. But this was workable. Marie’s delivery had been long, and she’d cursed the hell out of me, but it had been textbook. Based on Zoe’s attitude and pain levels, she should be able to handle this.

Bad was watching your wife of eight years die slowly of cancer. That wasn’t terrifying, it was gut-wrenching.

Shut that shit down, Beckett!

That’s the past, this was the present.

One minute at a time. Just take it one minute at a time.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I looked down at Zoe. She was staring up at me with her big brown eyes, and now she wasn’t looking at me with either fear or determination. She looked almost concerned.

“I’m fine. Just figuring out the logistics. I’m going to want to get you into the backseat. I have an older Ford 150, it has a bench seat.”

“Great, all the coolest midwives are using those these days.”

Another laugh let loose. Zoe looked satisfied with my response.

“You’re intent on keeping me laughing, aren’t you?”

“I’m the only one allowed to panic during this rodeo, so yeah. It’s my job to keep you laughing, and it’s your job to be all hero-y and competent and let me break every bone in your hand when the serious pain starts.”

“If you smash all my bones, I won’t be able to wipe your fevered brow,” I said as I got her situated in the most comfortable position I could, before leaving her.