Prince Charming in Dress Blues

“It’s labor, isn’t it?” he asked when he’d managed to suck more air into his body.

She laughed shortly. “Well, I’ve never done this before, so I can’t be sure, but yeah. That’s my guess. I’ve been having a backache all day but the pain seems to be coming every few minutes now.”

“Swell.”

The little blonde shot him a bland look. “Gee, I’m sorry to inconvenience you.”

Shame swamped him. Here he was thinking about himself, when this woman was about to make a new human being. Well, hell, you couldn’t blame a guy, could you? He’d come to this cabin for a little peace and quiet. Not to be the first Marine midwife in history.

“I think you should take me to the closest hospital,” she said, scooting carefully off the bed.

If only he could. “There’s a problem.”

“Problem?” she echoed as she tried to slip her right foot back into a sadly misshapen loafer.

“We’re not going anywhere,” he said and watched realization dawn on her face with each of his words. Damn, it cost him to break this to her, but better she know straight-out that he was as close to a doctor as she’d be seeing tonight. God help her.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the storm has turned into a blizzard. There are drifts of snow blocking the driveway, and I’m pretty sure the roads are in no better shape.”

Her blue eyes widened, and she shot a quick look at the nearest window. Outside, the wind hammered at the glass like an angry old man demanding entry.

“Well, find a snowplow.”

“I don’t have one.”

“What kind of mountain cabin doesn’t have a snow plow?”

Pointless to wish for things they didn’t have, he thought. “I’ll mention it to Pete next time I see him.” Along with a few other things, like making sure the cabin was unoccupied before you lent it out.

“There can’t be a blizzard,” she said, interrupting his thoughts and swinging her gaze back to him. “I’m having a baby.”

Oh, man. He forced a smile he didn’t feel and told himself she didn’t need to see just how nervous she was making him. The thought of becoming an instant obstetrician didn’t exactly electrify him. But what choice did he have? Hell, what choice did either of them have? That baby was coming whether they liked it or not.

And in this situation the baby had the last word.

“Maybe we could call for help,” she said, waving the phone she still held in one hand.

“Good idea,” he said and cursed silently for not thinking of it himself.

“I’ll call 911,” she said to herself as she turned the phone on and dialed. “This is an emergency, right?”

“Oh, yeah, I’d say so,” he told her. Heck, if he had any rocket flares, he’d be firing them about now.

She held the phone up to her ear, and he watched eagerness fade into disbelief and then fear.

“What?” he asked, not really wanting to hear her answer.

“It’s not working.”

“What do you mean it’s not working?” he asked, reaching for the phone.

“It’s not dialing.”

He took it, listened for a long minute, hoping the situation would change, then gave it up. That sinking sensation crawled back into his guts and he wondered if it was going to become a permanent part of him. “The phone’s dead.”

“Oh, God.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, and instantly told himself how stupid that was. Of course she’d worry. She was probably terrified. Having a baby during a blizzard, with the only help available a complete stranger? Those wide blue eyes of hers shone with a glimmer of unshed tears and just a trace of dread. Hell, he was just short of panicking himself. But even as that thought registered, he put it aside. Marines don’t panic, for God’s sake. Marines fight battles. And Marines win, by damn.

She licked dry lips and gave him a quick, frantic glance. “Maybe it’s not labor. Maybe it’s gas.”

“You really think so?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head and rubbing her mouth with her fingertips. “Just wishful thinking. Oh, God,” she added in a soft, panic filled murmur, “what am I going to do?”

“We can do this,” he said, making sure his voice sounded firm but comforting.

“We can?” she asked, grabbing the phone from him and shaking it as if she could bring it back to life.

“I’ll help any way I can.”

She kept shaking the phone.

He took it from her and set it back into the cradle. “Shaking it won’t help. The line must have gone down.”

“The power line?” she asked.

“No,” he said with a grateful look at the lamplight, “power’s still on. I don’t know for how long, though.”

“This is not happening,” she whispered, and sank down onto the edge of the bed.

“Yeah,” John said quietly, “it is.” Though he wished to hell it wasn’t.

She shot him a quick look. “I had this planned, you know.”

“You planned this?” He took a seat beside her.

Unbelievably enough, a short laugh shot from her throat. “No, I didn’t plan this. I planned how it would be when the baby came.”

John just looked at her. “You can plan that stuff?”

She nodded, more to herself than to him. “You just have to be organized, is all.” She glanced at him and went on. “At home, I have the doctor’s number by the phone, my packed suitcase by the front door and the baby’s layette all pressed and ready.”

“That’s a plan,” he said, and told himself she’d make a halfway decent General.

She folded her hands in what was left of her lap and entwined her fingers. “This isn’t how I thought it would be. I thought I’d be in the hospital. With nurses. With doctors. With medication.”