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He gathered every bit of his strength to leave her. He stumbled out of the room and ran to the kitchen, knocking over a standing plant and an empty glass off the sofa table at the head of the stairs. God damn it! Water. Ice. Crushed ice? Was that it? Some episode of a television show he’d seen during rec hour in prison… Was it ER? Ice chips for women in labor. Yeah, that sounded right.
Plus a basin for her nausea. And a cool rag for her forehead. The poor thing was sweating bullets.
“Daddy!” she cried.
Music to his ears. “I’m coming, darlin’.”
“Daddy, I have to push.”
“Can’t you hold off? The ambulance is sure to be here, and—”
“Please,” she said. “I have to push.”
Damn! What could he do? He could fire up his iPad and search the Internet for emergency births…but he didn’t want to leave her.
He’d already called 9-1-1 and the doctor. Who else?
The local doctor, of course. Larson was his name. Would he be on Angie’s phone? Yes! He called the number. Got voice mail—Doc was in Denver at a seminar for two days.
God damn it! And he called himself a doctor? Who else?
The vet?
Heck, yeah. She might have a clue. She delivered calves and foals—how much different could it be? Plus this child was sort of related to her. She was married to Dallas McCray, the brother of Chad McCray, who was Angie’s sister, Catie’s, husband. He grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Annie McCray.
“Yeah, this is Annie,” she said.
“Annie, thank God. It’s Jeff Bay over at Cha Cha. Angie’s here and she’s gone into labor. Doc Larson is in Denver for a seminar. I’ve called an ambulance, but God knows when they’ll get out here. Rafe’s on the western slope and is on his way.” Jeff hoped he was, anyway. He would be when he got Jeff’s voicemail. “Can you possibly help?”
“Calm down. It’s going to be all right. How far apart are her contractions?”
“Just a few minutes. And she says she wants to push. Her water broke an hour ago.”
“Okay. I’m on my way. It’ll take me about ten minutes to get up there. In the meantime, get her undressed from the waist down. If she wants to push, she’s going to be having that baby no matter how inconvenient it is for everyone else. That’s Angie’s way, isn’t it?”
Jeff had to chuckle. He hadn’t known his daughter long, but he knew that about her. When she set her mind to something, she got what she wanted. And right now, she seemed to want to have this baby.
“She can’t have a baby in her clothes, so get her undressed and lying down on a clean surface.”
“She’s on my guest bed. I put clean sheets over the covers. What about boiling water?”
“You watch too much TV. Don’t leave her to go boil water. Get her to lie on her side. That might help the urge to push subside. Help her with her breathing. Tell her to breathe through the urge. Make sure the door’s unlocked so I can get right in. I’m in the car now, on my way. Relax, Grandpa, you’re doing—”
The line went dead.
* * *
Thirty-Three Years Earlier
Maria’s heartbeat pounded as Jeff lovingly placed the motorcycle helmet on her head. What a beautiful day for a ride. The Colorado sun was shining over the Rockies, and the most handsome man in the universe was taking her for a ride.
She warmed as she remembered their time together last night. She was sore, but the pain was inconsequential. She’d gladly take him to her bed again tonight and every night to come.
“There you go, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. She heated to her toes.
Jeff replaced his own helmet. “Hop on,” he said.
