“Sure,” Paige said. “I’ll meet you across the street in a half hour. How’s that?”
“It’s a date. If anything changes, call me. I can always rush and get there in ten minutes.”
They were in motion, the midwife and her partner. While she headed for the nursery, Jack called his sister and put fresh linens on the bed so the babysitters could crawl in and sleep. No reason for them to sit up all night. And while no one expected Jack to be up all night, it was his routine to be awake and available when Mel was delivering at Doc’s house. About thirty minutes later, they pulled up to the bar. They kissed goodbye and Mel went to Doc’s while Jack went into the bar, which was lit up like a church.
Preacher was pacing. “What took you so long?” he asked.
Jack looked at his watch. “We’re right on time, Preach.”
Paige stood up from the table. “Jack, I’d like you to pour John a shot.”
“No, baby. I want to be alert.”
“John, you’re way beyond alert. And I don’t think I can take another minute. Do as I say!”
Jack went behind the bar. “My man, when a woman is having a baby, you do everything she says, and you do it fast.” He brought down a bottle. “Just a little something to take the edge off.”
“I don’t know,” Preacher said.
“Preach, you’re six-four and weigh at least two-fifty. A shot isn’t going to do nearly enough good. Mel should probably have you on Xanax.” He tipped the bottle of Preacher’s preferred whiskey over a glass. Reluctantly, Preacher picked up the drink and threw it back.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”
“Christopher all tucked in and asleep?” Jack asked.
“He is. He’ll be fine till about seven.”
Jack walked around the bar. He leaned down and kissed Paige on the head. “Have a good delivery, honey,” he said.
She smiled up at him. “I’ll do my best.” Then she dropped back into the chair, holding her tummy as a contraction got her. She started out breathing slowly, then as the pain threshold heightened, she began to pant and her face took on that look. She was starting to struggle. Jack smiled, watching. As the contraction eased, her features relaxed and finally, taking a deep breath, she smiled up at him. “They’re getting pretty good.”
“You’re doing great,” Jack said, putting out a hand to bring her to her feet.
“Aw, man,” Preacher groaned. He walked over to Paige and swept her up in his arms to carry her to Doc’s.
“Ah, Preach, don’t do that,” Jack said. “The minute she gets to Doc’s, I bet Mel is going to have her walking. It helps speed up the baby.”
“Fine,” he said. “Mel will do what Mel will do, I will do what I will do.” And out the door he went, carrying his wife to have their baby.
Jack’s shoulders shook with laughter. He hoped Mel didn’t knock Preacher over the head with a big club before morning.
Paige’s labor was not fast, but it was efficient and perfect in many ways. It took until three in the morning to get to six centimeters, but then the action picked up. Mel broke her water and by 5:00 a.m., she was almost fully dilated. She managed the discomfort very well.
Preacher, however, grew paler and weaker with every contraction. Before letting Paige begin to push, Mel brought a chair into the room. “John,” she said, “I want you to sit, and if you start to feel the least bit light-headed, put your head between your knees. If you faint, there’s nothing I can do for you—I’m busy with Paige.”
“I’m not going to faint,” he insisted. “I’ve been waiting forever for this.”
“John, you don’t have to stay,” Paige told him. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’m staying,” he insisted.
For a man like Preacher to see his little wife struggle and have pain was obviously torture. He was much more comfortable in the role of protector. Mel knew immediately that he wasn’t going to be much help.
When Paige finally delivered the baby’s head at 6:00 a.m., Preacher leaned over his wife, took a look and collapsed into the chair with a groan. He put his head between his knees.
“Okay, Paige, pant. Give me just a second, we have a little cord issue. I’m going to be able to handle it fine. There we go—just pant for me, honey.” Mel slipped the cord over the baby’s head easily. “Okay, small push now. We’re there.”
“You sure?” Paige asked.
The baby, not out yet, began to cry. “Hear that? I’m sure. Bring her out, Paige, easy does it.” The baby slid neatly into Mel’s hands and screamed bloody murder. “Oh boy, she’s strong! Listen to those lungs! And big!” She put the baby in her newborn towel, placed her on Paige’s belly to dry her off. That done, she clamped and cut the cord. Preacher stood on shaky legs, watched the cutting of the cord and slid weakly into the chair again, groaning. Mel tried not to laugh.
She rewrapped the baby and passed her to Paige. After a little snuggling, she helped Paige settle her baby to the breast, since Preacher wasn’t going to be able to do it. “John, I want you to keep your eyes up here, on your wife and baby. All right?”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I still have delivery work to do, there will be blood, and I don’t want you to faint.”
“I won’t faint,” he said.
“You do as I say,” Mel told him.
“Here, John,” Paige said softly. “Look at your girl. Isn’t she beautiful?”
Mel was massaging the uterus when she heard a sound. She looked up over Paige’s raised knees and saw a most stunning sight. Big old Preacher was resting his lips against the baby’s head and crying his eyes out. Huge tears ran down his cheeks and dropped onto the newborn’s head. He slipped a meaty arm under his wife’s shoulders, holding her and the baby as one, and sobbed.
Remarkable. Paige just smiled and touched her husband’s face with gentle, loving fingers. Mel was moved almost to tears herself by the big man’s emotion. He worshipped his wife, his little family, and he was so grateful, he was overwhelmed. It was so gratifying to help bring a child into a union of such devotion. It was what she lived for.
Her work was not done; the placenta had not delivered. A midwife friend who was older than Mel by twenty years had given her a tip years ago that seemed like sheer magic, yet worked. Mel looked at Paige and said, “Paige, time to let go of the placenta, please.” Then she got back in her position, massaged a little more and, remarkably, the job was done. She shook her head and chuckled to herself. People who didn’t do this all the time would simply never believe it.
Mel finished her work, let the baby suckle awhile to get the uterus contracting and stanch the bleeding. She examined her patient—no stitches necessary—then covered her and took the baby. “Let’s clean her up,” she said softly. “People will want to see her soon.”
Preacher sniffed back his tears, wiped at his face. But when he spoke, his voice was still weak with emotion. “God, Mel—thank you. Thank you so much. You took such good care of her. Of them.”
“They did most of the work. Help me, Preach. Help me wash the baby.”
She unwrapped the newborn and placed her in Preacher’s palms; his large, soft, gentle palms. Mel coaxed him to lower her into the bath and carefully ran a warm cloth over the little body, cleaning her off.
“Look at those big feet,” Preacher said. “Look at that tiny little head.”
“She’s gorgeous.” Mel held the towel. “Right here, Preach,” she said.
Preacher laid the baby in the clean towel and Mel wrapped her. “Take her out in the hall to show Doc. But please, stay upstairs for now. I’m going to do a little cleanup and you can bring her right back in.”
Mel didn’t want Preacher in the room when she handled the cleanup of his wife, the changing of bloody sheets. And she didn’t want him carrying the baby down the stairs in case he got light-headed again. She worked faster than usual. “How are you feeling?” she whispered to Paige.
“Like I’ve been up all night.”
Mel palpated her uterus. “You’re already contracting like mad. That uterus is getting nice and firm.” She smiled at her patient. “He’ll be okay now, I think.”
“Poor John. That was harder on him than me.”
“The bigger they are…” Mel laughed.
Her work was done by 7:00 a.m. Preacher was seated at Paige’s side, holding his baby daughter. Mel went downstairs and stepped out into the fresh, bright morning. She stood on Doc’s porch and heard the sound she loved. Thwack, thwack, thwack. Jack was splitting logs behind the bar. She walked across the street.
She leaned on the corner of the building, watching him. Her mind wandered back in time to her first delivery in this town—a one-hundred-percent-successful delivery much like the one she had just assisted. Then, as now, she had crossed the street and watched Jack as he hefted an ax over his head and brought it down. Watched the muscles in his arms and shoulders at work and admired his hard good looks.
When he saw her, he leaned the ax up against the stump and went to her. She smiled and walked into his arms. He crossed those arms under her bottom and brought her up to his face. “It was perfect,” she said.
“I love the way those babies light you up.”
She kissed him deeply and his arms tightened under her.
“How are they doing?”
“Preacher’s a little wobbly, but Paige and the baby are great.”
“He’s been looking forward to it for so long,” Jack said.
“He might’ve gotten himself a little too worked up. Maybe he peaked too soon,” she said. “Did you sleep?” she asked, touching his hair.
“I don’t sleep when you work,” he said, touching her lips again. “Can I get you anything? Breakfast?”
“That would be nice. My children will be awake by the time I get home.”
“Was it hard, baby?” he asked. “After the hysterectomy?”
She shook her head and smiled. “That wasn’t the hard part. There is nothing sad about bringing a new life to a couple as in love as they are.” She kissed him again. “I admit, I was thinking of one more, down the road a bit. I tend to think like that after ours are settled in bed and quiet.…”
“We have a lot more than either of us thought we’d get,” he said.
“I’m dealing with it pretty well. I’m telling myself not to be greedy. As long as I have you—”
He laughed, a rich, deep rumbling sound. “As if you could get rid of me now.”
Joe used to look forward to trips to Virgin River—it was such a welcome respite from his demanding work. Usually he was going with a purpose that included his friends—either a gathering of the boys for sport or someone in need of help. In fact, if it hadn’t been for certain memories that were hard to shake, this trip would be a celebration. Preacher’s baby had arrived, and Joe liked babies—he’d been an uncle five times. He’d always thought that by now he’d have a couple of his own.
The drive seemed longer than usual, but he made it before Saturday noon. He went straight to Jack’s bar and once there, his first order of business was to deliver a large bouquet of flowers to Paige. There was no one in the bar and he didn’t even glance into the kitchen, but went straight to the apartment. The door was standing open, so he tapped lightly and went in. He found Paige sitting on the couch with the cradle nearby, folding clothes into neat little piles. “Joe!” she said, her face brightening when she saw him. “Oh my, are these for me?”
