Million-Dollar Maverick

“Come on,” Callie urged. “Just come inside by the fire for a minute....”

Faith made a low, animal sort of sound. “But I...have everything ready, just like we planned....”

“Good. Wonderful. As soon as this one passes, I’ll get my equipment and we’ll go to your house. Now come on, lean on me.” Callie coaxed and coddled, guiding a staggering, moaning Faith into the great room and over to the sofa, not far from the fire.

Still holding the lantern high, Nate watched them go. He stood rooted to the spot, his heart pounding out a swift, ragged rhythm, his worst nightmare unfolding all over again.

They needed to do something. He needed to do something. But right at the moment, he found he couldn’t move.

Callie had Faith at the sofa by then, near the light and heat of the fire. “Right here, sit down. Easy now, easy....”

Faith panted, groaning some more as she went down to the cushions and Callie went with her.

Right about then, Nate finally made his frozen body move. The blood rushing so fast in his veins it sounded like a hurricane inside his head, he set down the lantern, dug his cell from his pocket, punched up 9-1-1 and put the phone to his ear.

Nothing.

With a muttered oath, he pulled the phone away from his face and stared at the screen. No bars. So he shoved the useless thing back into his pocket and took off like a shot toward the kitchen, grabbing up the house phone from the counter when he got there and trying it.

It was dead, too.

Dead.

Not a word he wanted in his mind at the moment.

He dropped the phone and raced back to the front of the house. When he got to the foyer, he stopped in the doorway to the great room. By then, Faith seemed to be breathing more normally, and Callie glanced over and saw him standing there.

She gasped at the sight of him. “Nate, what’s wrong? You’re white as a sheet. Are you all right?”

He made his mouth form words. “I tried my cell and your house phone. Both are still out. We need to get her to my truck, take her to the hospital in Kalispell. We need to do that now.”

Faith let out a cry of protest. “No. No, I’m not going to do that.” She grabbed Callie’s hand again. “Callie, tell him. This is going normally, beautifully. I don’t need a hospital. I want the home birth I planned for.”

“Home birth.” Nate swung his gaze back on Callie and accused, “Are you crazy? Have you both lost your minds?”

Faith said, “You should sit down, Nate. Before you fall down.”

He braced a hand on the door frame and wondered why his knees felt weak. “I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

Faith shook her head. “Seriously, now. You don’t look so good.”

Nate clutched the door frame harder. “Like I said. Fine. I’m just fine.” And then he noticed that Callie was on her feet and coming toward him. He demanded, “What is the matter with you two? It’s not safe, not right.” He glared at Callie. “She needs a hospital....”

Callie reached for his hand. “Come on. Over here.”

“What? I don’t...”

“Come on.” She had his hand and she put her other arm around him. And he found he had let go of the door frame and was letting her guide him over to the easy chair close to the fire. “Here,” she said gently, the way you talk to a sick child. “Sit right here.” She pushed him slowly down onto it. “There you go. That’s it....”

He felt light-headed, and he wildly stared up at her as a low, angry sound escaped him.

She kept talking slowly and calmly. “Lower your head, Nate.” She put her hand to his upper back and pushed. At first he resisted, but then he gave in and let her guide him down so his head was between his knees. “Good,” she soothed. “Excellent. Now just stay there for a little while, please. I want you to concentrate on your breathing, make it even, deep and slow....”

“This is crazy,” he insisted to the space on the floor between his stocking feet. “It’s not safe. We have to get Faith to the hospital, where they can take care of her, where she and the baby will be safe.”

Callie kept on in that slow, soothing voice. “It will be okay, Nate. I promise you. Just stay there with your head down. Just breathe slowly and deeply.”

He wanted to yell at her, to yell at both of them, to get it through to them that they were insane, out of their minds to take a chance like this. He knew what would happen if they did. He knew it from the worst kind of personal experience.

However, he was afraid if he sat up right then and tried to explain to them what idiots they were being, he would throw up. That wouldn’t help anyone.

Eventually, Callie asked, “Better?”

He stared at his socks and muttered, “Yeah. Better. I think so.”

“Good. Because I need you. I need your help. I need you to pull it together, please. Will you do that for me?”

“Please, Nate,” said Faith from over there on the sofa. “Callie’s not only a nurse. She’s certified as a midwife. We have this handled. It’s going to be okay.”

He sat up. By some miracle, he didn’t throw up and he didn’t pass out. He looked from one woman to the other and realized that Callie was right about one thing. He really did need to pull it together. “You’re determined to do this?”

“Yes, we are,” the women said in unison.

It wasn’t the answer he’d hoped for, but it was the answer he got and now he needed to deal with it. “What do you want me to do?”

“Wonderful.” Callie let out a long sigh. “Put on your boots and help Faith back to her house. I need to dig my midwife bag out of a packing box upstairs. I’ll get it and I’ll be right over, I promise.”

* * *

Out on the porch, it was still raining as if it was the end of the world. Nate handed Faith the lantern. “I’m just going to carry you.”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Okay.”

So he scooped her up in his arms and ran with her, down the steps and across the yard, with the rain pelting down on them and his boots sinking into the saturated ground with every step he took.

But at least it wasn’t far. He was mounting the steps to the shelter of her porch in seconds. He shoved open the front door as another one of those contractions started.

Faith moaned and almost dropped the lantern. He managed to catch it, keeping one hand on her for support as she slid her feet to the floor, all the while fervently praying that Callie would get over there quick.

The house was warm. Faith had a fire going in the living room heat stove. And she had fat candles lit and more of those electric lanterns set around.

She pointed down the central hallway. “My room,” she moaned. “That way....” He waited for the worst of that contraction to pass and then scooped her up again and carried her down there, detouring into the room she indicated.

He set her on the bed, which had been stripped except for a sheet and some kind of plastic cover beneath the sheet, which made faint crinkling sounds as it took her weight. There were candles on the dresser and a lantern by the bed. In the soft glow of light, he saw a basin, stacks of clean towels and diapers and those small cotton blankets that you used on newborns.

Perched on the end of the bed, Faith had started rocking gently back and forth, kind of humming to herself. He stood over her, feeling like a lump of useless nothing. She actually did seem kind of peaceful and relaxed about the whole thing.

Nothing like Zoe, nothing like that awful day in January so long ago...