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Jeff squeezed her hand and looked into his daughter’s green eyes. “You did it, honey! You did it! The head’s out. It’ll be easy from here.”
“Just give me one more,” Annie said. “You’ll have your baby.”
Angie grimaced, her face scarlet, and pushed once more.
“He’s here.” Annie smiled. “Your little boy is here and he’s perfect.”
The baby let out a howl.
“And he’s breathing!”
“Daddy, I want to see him.”
Annie held the baby so she could see. “He’s still attached to the cord inside you.”
Jeff’s head swam. His grandson. He had a grandson.
“We’re not quite done,” Annie said. “I’ll need to deliver the placenta and get him cleaned up, and then you can hold him, okay? Jeff, get me some more towels, damp this time.”
He needed every ounce of strength to leave his daughter’s side. Jeff ran to the kitchen and wet down some towels. Why hadn’t he boiled that damn water? Course it would have been too hot for the newborn baby.
Newborn baby. He hadn’t been there for his little girl, but damn it, he’d be there for her son.
When he returned to the bedroom, Annie was holding the squalling little boy. She handed him a pair of scissors from her vet bag. “Care to cut the cord, Grandpa?”
He blinked back tears as he took the scissors and cut the cord, separating his grandchild from his daughter.
Annie washed the baby with one of the damp cloths, wrapped him in a dry towel, and handed him to Angie. “Congratulations, Mom. He’s perfect.”
Angie took her baby eagerly, tears in her eyes. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, Annie. And thank you, Daddy. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been here.”
Sirens interrupted. Within seconds, two paramedics bombarded the scene. They got Angie and the new baby onto a stretcher and out the door.
“Your husband can go in the ambulance with you, ma’am,” one of the techs said.
“He’s not here. He’s on his way.” She looked at Jeff. “Will you come with me, Daddy?”
He smiled, his heart melting. “Of course, sweetheart. Of course.”
* * *
Thirty-Three Years Earlier
“Where are we?” Maria asked, after Jeff stopped the bike. All around her were gorgeous peach trees. Palisade or Fruita, she imagined.
“Palisade. The peach trees after the harvest. I love it here.” Jeff took off his helmet and hung it by the strap on his handlebars.
Maria followed suit. She inhaled the sweet fragrance of peaches. She’d never imagined a man like Jeff would be moved by something as simple as a peach orchard, but there he stood, his eyes closed, his deep chest expanding as he inhaled the fragrant aroma.
Maria closed her eyes as well. Nothing better than a ripe western slope peach. Except maybe a ripe western slope Fuji apple. No, the peach was definitely better.
“You like peaches, Jeff?”
He opened his eyes and nodded. “We grow them on Bay Crossing, but we’re mostly beef ranchers. Our fruit can’t hold a candle to the stuff here in Palisade. Course my grandpa and brother swear we grow the best ones. Personally, I’d take a Palisade peach over a Bay Crossing peach any day.”
“Come on. I bet yours are great.”
“Well, they’re not mine, first of all. None of it’s mine anymore.”
