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“I know, but even if I could, I wouldn’t leave.”

“Really?” Her startled gaze met his. “You swear?”

He nodded. “You don’t have to be alone through this. I give you my word.”

“Thank you.”

Just then, a woman’s voice came on the line. “This is Dr. Moreno. Is that you, Heather?”

“No, Doctor. My name is Jim Dyer. I’m in the elevator with Heather. She’s in labor.”

“Can I talk to her?”

Jim looked at Heather and knew she wasn’t moving on her own. “Yeah. Give me a second.” He let the receiver dangle. “Heather, the doctor wants to talk to you. Let me help you shift closer so you can reach the receiver.”

She was shaking her head in refusal even as she began to inch toward him. He knelt beside her and eased one arm under her legs and the other behind her back.

“Are you having a labor pain?” he asked.

“Not right now.”

“On the count of three.” He counted, then drew her against him and moved her next to the phone.

She took a couple of breaths before she picked up the receiver. “So much for waiting a few more days. I guess you were wrong, Dr. Moreno,” she said with a touch of humor. “First time ever?”

There was a pause while she listened to her doctor.

“They’re about three minutes apart,” she said. “The pain is intense. It feels like—” She gasped and thrust the phone at Jim, then panted as her body twisted.

“She’s tough,” Jim said to the doctor as he held on to Heather’s hand, “but this is hard for her.”

“For both of you,” the doctor said. “Do you have any medical training?”

He told her about his first-aid classes in the service.

“First babies are notoriously tardy,” Dr. Moreno told him. “However, based on the fact that Heather’s water has already broken and the duration and frequency of her labor pains, we’ll have to assume she might not wait for the elevator to be fixed. I want to explain a few things to you in case you have to deliver the child. Have you ever seen a baby born before?”

“Not really,” he muttered.

Jim felt as if someone had kicked him in the gut. Watching Heather in labor was one thing, but having her doctor say he might have to help her deliver her baby was another. He wanted to insist that Dr. Moreno call the words back, but he couldn’t. He was all Heather had. It was up to him to get her through this.

She explained about the stages of labor and what was probably happening to Heather and the baby. She had him lower Heather onto her back and help her with her breathing. The contractions continued. He breathed as the doctor told him, setting a pace for Heather to follow as the pains got longer and came closer and closer together.

“It hurts,” Heather moaned after a particularly long and intense set of contractions.

“I know. You can do this.”

Jim mouthed the words because they were all he had. He kept holding her hand and breathing with her, all the while wondering why something as wonderful as childbirth had to be so damn hard on the mother.

The small room seemed to close in around him. He couldn’t tell if it was getting hot or just his reaction to the stress. Even as he urged Heather to hang on, he kept listening for a sound or waiting for a gentle lurch that would tell him the elevator was back in working order.

“I want to push,” Heather gasped.

“Don’t!” Jim instructed as he squeezed her fingers with one hand and wiped the sweat from her face with the other. He had the receiver cradled between his shoulder and ear. “She wants to push,” he told the doctor.

“Tell her not to. You’re going to have to check and see if the baby has crowned. If it has, you’ll be able to see the top of the head. That means she’s ready to deliver.”

Jim swallowed. He didn’t want Heather to be ready to deliver. He also didn’t want to have to look to find out. “Be right back with you,” he said, and let go of the phone.