A Mummy For His Baby

WHAT HAD POSSESSED Aurora Hunt to return to this little town, she didn’t know. She should have figured out on her own how to survive, how to find a new job, how to create a new life. Somehow. But after being beaten down by life during several unforeseeable events she’d given up, given in, and gone home to her childhood home in western Pennsylvania to lick her wounds. Wounds that scarred her on the inside as well as the outside.

Nothing in this vast wildness settled in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains had changed much in two hundred years. The car models were newer, farmers plowed different fields, and there were more houses built on what had once been pasture. At the heart of it, its people, their culture, hadn’t changed—had refused to change—and that was why she’d left in the first place. In order to grow, things had to change, and she’d wanted to do all of that where there were more opportunities than in this remote village.

But due to a nearly catastrophic car wreck, she was back to square one. In one second, one dramatic turn of the wheel, her life had taken a path she’d never expected and she’d been forced to move in with her mother.

For now.

This situation was only temporary. Until she regained her strength and figured out what she was going to do with her life. A few weeks, tops. Living with her mother on a permanent basis was not an option.

Getting out of her car wasn’t as easy as getting into it. Nearly every movement she made was difficult, but she was grateful for the pain. At least it meant she was still alive, still moving forward. Nothing was what it had used to be. Nothing.

Today she was calling on an old friend to help put her life back together, one aching bone at a time.

The sign for the local medical clinic was a red arrow, pointing to a door. Until a few months ago there had been no medical clinic in Brush Valley. The closest one had been miles away. So it was understandable that this building didn’t quite look like it was a thriving business just yet.

It looked like the building had once belonged to an animal doctor instead of a people doctor. Faded paint indicated dogs to the left, cats to the right. She didn’t know which one to take, but since she was more of a dog person she entered through the left door. Fortunately both doors opened into the lobby of the clinic, which was nearly deserted.

“Good morning, can I help you?” A woman in an advanced stage of pregnancy smiled and offered her a clipboard to sign in.

“Yes. I have an appointment.”

“Okay, great.” She looked at Aurora’s name, then frowned. “Are you related to Sally Hunt?”

“Yes, she’s my mother.”

“Oh, then you must have grown up here!” She held out her hand. “I’m Cathy Carter. I think I went to school just after you.”

“Oh...great to meet you.”

Though Aurora didn’t recall everyone who had gone to school around the time she had, the woman did look vaguely familiar, with her big brown eyes and long brown hair.

“I’m sure you don’t remember me.” She patted her belly. “I looked much different back then.”

That made Aurora laugh. “Didn’t we all? Nice to see you again.”

“Have a seat and he’ll be with you in a few minutes. Just one patient ahead of you.” Cathy nodded to a young woman with a sniffling infant, pacing the small waiting room.

“No problem.”

“Angie, why don’t you bring Zachary back and we’ll have a look at him now?” Laboriously, Cathy rose from the chair and followed the mom and baby into the first exam room.

Aurora felt sorry for the woman, who looked like she was carrying a watermelon beneath her clothing. But although Cathy looked uncomfortable, she also looked happy, and there was something to be said about that.

While Aurora waited she paced the length of the waiting room as sitting caused her too much pain. As she moved back and forth, trying to keep her joints moving, she noticed a bulletin board, with notices for parents, and a table full of retirement magazines. There was a section of toys for little kids, but nothing for anyone else. It was a sparse attempt to keep those who were waiting entertained. These days, with all the electronic devices and people being plugged in, the corner looked lacking, without at least one charger available.

“Aurora?” Cathy called her to the desk. “I can take you back and get you in a patient room, take your vitals, while Beau—I mean Dr. Gutterman—looks at his other patient.”

“Oh, you can call him Beau. I know when we’re behind the desk we all go on a first-name basis.”

“That’s right. You’re a nurse, too, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes.” At least she had been. She didn’t want to say that she wasn’t a nurse any longer. Just because she was in between jobs at the moment. “I’m not working right now—but I guess once a nurse, always a nurse, right?”

“Yes, we’re kind of like the Marines that way.”

Cathy led the way and indicated a nice patient room. After a quick check, she left Aurora waiting for Beau.

“Leave the door open, please. I get a little claustrophobic.”

“Oh, sure. He’ll be right here.” Cathy pressed a hand to her back as a twinge of pain crossed her face.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. It’s just pushing on my back more and more the last few days.”

“Oh, boy. When are you due?” That low back pain was an ominous sign. Labor could commence at any moment.

“A few more weeks—but I’m feeling like I want to pop right now.” Cathy paused in the doorway and looked like she was about to pass out. “I’ve been having Braxton Hicks for days.”

Feeling that nurse’s instinct kick in, Aurora quickly moved to Cathy’s side and began to assess the woman. Maternity wasn’t her specialty, but she could see the swelling in the woman’s hands and face, the flushed cheeks and the fine sheen of sweat on her face and neck.

“Cathy, I’m not so sure they were false contractions. I think you’d better sit down.”

“I do, too.”

Without releasing her grip on Cathy’s arm, Aurora dragged one of the wheeled chairs in the room close, right behind the pregnant woman’s legs. “Here’s a chair.”

“Oh, boy.” Cathy dropped into the chair, then clutched her abdomen and leaned forward with a groan. “I think I’m going into labor right now.”

She blew out a breath and her face reddened further.

“Oh. Oh, no! My water just broke.”

The amniotic fluid housing the baby and adding cushioning splattered onto the floor. This was going to go hard and fast.

“Let me call for Beau.”

Aurora left the room for a second to dash across the hall and rap on the patient room door.

“Dr. Gutterman—there’s an issue out here!”

Beau jerked the door open with a scowl, then a surprised look raised his brows and a grin lit up his face. “Aurora! What are you—?”

“Cathy’s going into labor. Now.” Trying not to panic, Aurora released the doorknob.

“Oh! I knew she was close, but not that close.” Beau turned back to his patient’s mother. “I’m sorry, Angie. I’ll call in a prescription for Zach as soon as I can. Give me a call if he’s not better in a few days.”

Dispensing with any more pleasantries or greetings, Aurora grabbed his arm and dragged him into the hallway. “I mean right now.”