Belinda Barnes - His Special Delivery

Except, he was going to have to deliver her baby.

“Hang on. We’re almost there.” Cal cursed himself for getting involved. He should have walked away, but he’d had no choice. He could no more have left this woman stranded, alone and in trouble, than he could embrace his parents’ way of life. He intended to get this lady to the hospital, one way or another.

When he pushed on the gas pedal, the stupid car sputtered. He muttered a curse and downshifted into second gear.

The woman gasped. “Pull over. I can’t go any farther.”

“What’s your name?”

“Sara Jamison.” Her words trailed off in a groan.

“Relax. It’s not far now.” Cal rolled through a Stop sign.

She glared at him. “Shove a bowling ball up your nose, Doc, then tell me relaxing will keep it from hurting.” She bore down and yelled a curse aimed at all men, including him.

Frustrated, Cal choked the steering wheel. “Dammit, the side of the road is no place to have a baby.” He felt as out of breath as she sounded. “No, Sara, don’t bear down. Don’t push.”

Sara braced her legs on the floor and moaned. Her hand clamped around his wrist. “Don’t tell me what to do.” She threw her head back and screamed bloody murder.

Cal cursed and pulled over to the curb. He had planned to drop Sara at the hospital, then meet James for a beer.

But first, it looked like he had a baby to deliver.

He got out, raced around to Sara’s side of the car and opened the door. “Let’s get you in the back seat.”

She tried to stand. When her knees buckled, he lifted her in his arms. Her scent whirled around him like a lasso, and he wondered how a woman could smell so good in the middle of something like this.

Cal settled Sara on the back seat. She reclined and bent her knees, tucking the skirt of her frumpy brown dress around her legs.

“Better?” he asked, hovering over her. He saw the fear she tried to hide and found he wanted to reassure her. When he realized he already held her hand, he released it, irritated at his reluctance to let go.

Sara met his gaze, her eyes suddenly wide. “It’s coming.”

She bore down then and yelled as if her horse had thrown her into a cactus patch.

Cal stole a quick glance at his watch. About now, he and Tiffany should have been toasting their future with expensive champagne served in fancy glasses. He shoved the thought aside as he yanked off his tuxedo coat and tossed it over the front seat, then rolled up his sleeves.

Sara grimaced, her face turning red from her exertion. After a moment, she exhaled. “I’m really glad you’re here, Cal, and that you’re a doctor. But, honestly, the way I feel right now, I wouldn’t care if you were a plumber.”

He gave in to the smile that threatened. “That’s good, Sara, ’cause I’m a vet.”

The color drained from her face. “A vet?” Her voice wavered. “You mean a veteran, as in foreign wars?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Veterinarian, as in moo.”

She caught his hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “This is no time to joke.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh, great! Do you know what to do?”

“Sure. It’s a piece of cake.” Cal leaned over her and, telling himself he shouldn’t, brushed a sweat-drenched curl behind her ear. This is the last place I want to be. But what better way to end the day from hell, than on the side of the road in a bad neighborhood with a woman…about to give birth.

“Then you’ve done this before?” she asked.

“No, but there’s nothing to worry about. We’ll get through it, together. Trust me, okay?”

His confidence had to have eased her worries, because she nodded, even gave him a tentative smile. “Do I have a choice?”

Cal shook his head. “Sara, I need to check the baby’s position,” he said, his voice rough and uneven.

Color now rushed to her cheeks. She bit her bottom lip and nodded. He knew she had to be scared out of her wits, yet she remained calm, something Cal couldn’t imagine his fiancée—ex-fiancée—doing. He had to admit, despite Sara’s stubbornness, he admired her spirit and roll-with-the-punches attitude.

He waited for a wino to pass, then lifted her skirt. It took another moment to undress her so he could see the baby’s head crowning. Sara groaned and pushed.

A passing car honked. The shouts of children playing nearby drifted to Cal on the cold afternoon breeze. The enormity of the situation settled about him. He’d delivered foals valued anywhere from fifty to one hundred thousand dollars, but this child wasn’t an animal. Sara’s baby had decided to be born here and now, whether or not Cal liked it.

“What do you see?” she asked.

Cal bit back the sudden laughter that bubbled up inside him at Sara’s question. He doubted she’d appreciate his warped sense of humor at the moment. “Hmm. I see his head.”

“Her head.”

In spite of everything, he once again found himself smiling at the determination in Sara’s voice. “I’ll have to see the other end to know that.”

“I think you’re about to see it.” She pushed and grunted, and freed the baby’s head.

“Come on,” Cal said, frowning as he noticed the bluish tint to the baby’s coloring. “You’re almost there.”

Sara screamed. Tiny shoulders passed through, then the baby girl slid into his waiting hands. The infant squirmed, and he tightened his hold. Cal checked her mouth and nose as best he could, anxious to make sure her air passages were clear.

Soon the baby’s cries mixed with her mother’s tears of joy. Unlike the mostly silent births to which he’d grown accustomed, the music of life washed over him.

Cal looked at the tiny miracle cradled in his palms. He’d held new life before, though nothing this small or fragile. Why did holding this child make it difficult to breathe? He shook his head, trying to clear his befuddled mind.

The newborn’s eyes opened like a baby bird’s, and she stared up at him. Cal felt as though he’d been bucked off a bronc.

He’d brought a new human life into the world.

He’d delivered Sara’s baby.

“What is it, Cal? What’s wrong?” Even without seeing Sara’s face, he could hear the fear in her voice.

Doing his best to hold the slippery infant against his chest, he grabbed his jacket from the front seat and wrapped the baby in it. “Nothing. It’s a girl.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s perfect,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

When he caught the infant’s fist, her hand closed partway around his index finger. He stared at the tiny fingernails, so perfect in miniature. A tremor snaked up his spine.

After handing the infant to Sara, Cal tugged the lace from one of his patent-leather shoes and used it to tie off the umbilical cord. He’d wait until they reached the hospital and let them sever the remaining tie between mother and child.

Cal caught a glimpse of Sara as she held her daughter. He knew then he’d never forget delivering this child or the undeniable love shining on Sara’s face. Maybe love did exist—at least between mother and child.

This mother and this child.

A smile spread across Sara’s face as she touched her daughter’s cheek. “Cal, what’s your full name?”

“Calvin Lee Tucker,” he said, wondering why she’d asked.

“I’ll call her Jessica Lee.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Cal said, a strange weight settling in his chest.

“I know, but I want to.” She turned back to her daughter.

“That’s a hell of a big name for such a little thing.” Cal tried to swallow past the tightening in his throat. “She looks like a Jessie to me.”

Sara glanced at the baby, then back at him. “You need glasses. She’s definitely a Jessica.”

Cal shrugged. The baby was fine. Sara was fine. That’s all that mattered.

Finally ready to get underway, he leaned inside the car as Sara brushed her full lips against the baby’s head. A sudden protectiveness toward Sara and Jessie filled him. It wasn’t something he was accustomed to. He didn’t want to feel it. But he did.

“I’d better get you two to the hospital.”

Their gazes met and held. A smile lifted Sara’s lips. “Thanks, Cal, for everything.”

Warmth stampeded through him as he gazed at Sara and her child. Rattled by his reaction, he closed the door and raced around the car. His mind spun with bits and pieces of what had happened. The weight in his chest grew heavier.

Cal sucked cold air into his lungs. He dismissed what had happened, chalking the odd feelings up to stress. After all, it had been a lousy day. He started the car and, with a crunch of gravel, headed to the hospital. In the back seat Sara cooed to her daughter. The sound touched a chord deep inside him that reverberated to his soul, feeding a hunger he never knew existed, a hunger he refused to acknowledge. He focused on the road ahead and pressed on the gas pedal. His job would be done when he delivered Sara and her baby to the hospital.

Then he’d head home. Alone.

The familiar smell of antiseptic enveloped Cal as he paced the hospital corridor. He wished the doctors would hurry and pronounce Sara and her child fit, so he could head out.

A young clerk walked toward him. Her gaze skittered from Cal’s unruly hair to the tips of his toes. She gave him a smile that ordinarily would have charmed Cal clean down to the soles of his rented shoes. Only his mind was occupied with thoughts of a courageous green-eyed woman.

The hospital worker pointed to an office across the hall. “Sir, we need to get some information. If you’ll come with me.”

He started to protest, but followed her for lack of anything better to do. “I don’t know much that will help.”

“This is my first day on the job, so I appreciate your cooperation.” She directed him to a chair and took a seat in front of a computer. “What’s your name?”

“Calvin Lee Tucker.”

A nurse hurried past with Sara’s baby. Cal jumped to his feet to follow, but the clerk motioned for him to stay.

“Where are they taking Jessie?” he asked.

“Probably to the nursery to get her vitals.”

Cal slumped in the chair beside the desk.

“Have you ever been here before?” she asked.

“Hmm? Yeah. A horse kicked me and broke a couple of ribs a year or so back.” He ran the pad of his thumb along the jagged scar on his chin, a souvenir of his rebellious days when he’d thought riding broncs would get his parents’ attention. “And I had to get stitches about ten years ago.”

The woman tapped the keys of the computer. “Is your address still Route One, Willow Grove, Texas?”

“Uh-huh.”

“The mother’s name?”

“Sara Jamison.” Cal tried to remember anything else Sara might have mentioned, but couldn’t. “Look, I don’t—”

“Wait a minute.” When her computer screen went blank, the clerk sent him a sheepish grin. “Guess I pushed the wrong button. I’ll have to start over.”

Cal left his chair to pace in the confined area. Finally, he pulled a business card from his billfold and handed it to the young woman. “Here’s my address and phone number. Take down what you need. I’m going to check on Sara.”

She stared at the card a moment. “Sara is the mom and Jessie is the baby?”

“Jessie Lee,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away.

The nurse who’d taken Sara away earlier paused in the door. A grin split her face. “You can go to room 324.”

“Thanks.” He needed to see Sara and the baby. Just to make sure they were both all right before he left. That’s all. Then his obligation would end, and he could change and meet James.