Sherryl Woods

A Christmas Blessing


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he was. She’d obviously been counting on a doctor, a team of comforting nurses, a nice, sterile delivery room and plenty of high-tech equipment. A shot of some kind of painkiller, too, more than likely. What she was getting was a drunken amateur in an isolated ranch house. It hardly seemed fair after all she’d already been through. After all he’d put her through, he amended.

      An agonized scream cut through the air and sent panic slicing through him. He tore down the hall to the bedroom. He found her panting, her face scrunched up with pain, sweat beading up on her brow and pouring down her cheeks. Damned if he didn’t think she looked beautiful, anyway. The door to that place in hell gaped wider.

      “You okay?” he asked, then shook himself. “Sorry. Dumb question. Of course, you’re not okay.”

      He grabbed a clean washcloth from the linen closet, dashed into the bathroom to soak it with cool water, then wiped her brow. He might not be exactly sober yet, but his brain was beginning to function and his limbs were following orders. For the first time, he honestly believed they could get through this without calamity striking.

      “You’re doing fine,” he soothed. “This is one hell of a pickle, but nothing we can’t manage.”

      “Did…you…call…a doctor?” she asked.

      A doctor? Why hadn’t he acted on that thought back when he’d had it himself? Maybe because he’d figured it would be futile. More likely, because his brain cells had shut down hours ago just the way he’d wanted them to.

      “Next thing on my list,” he assured her.

      She eyed him doubtfully. “You…have…a list?”

      “Of course I have a list,” he said, injecting a confident note into his voice. “The water’s boiling. The coffee’s on.”

      “Coffee?”

      “For me. You don’t want me falling asleep in the middle of all the fun, do you?”

      “I doubt there’s much chance of that,” she said, sighing as the pain visibly eased.

      Her gaze traveled over him from head to toe, examining him so intently that it was all Luke could do not to squirm. Under other circumstances, that examination would have made his pulse buck so hard he wouldn’t have recovered for days. As it was, he looked away as fast as he could. Obviously, this was some sort of penance dreamed up for his sins. He was going to be stranded with Jessie, forced to deliver his brother’s baby, and then he was going to have to watch the two of them walk out of his life. Unless, of course…

      “Luke, can I ask you a question?”

      He was relieved by the interruption. There was only heartache in the direction his thoughts were taking. “Seeing how we’re going to be getting pretty intimate here in a bit, I suppose you can ask me anything you like.”

      “Are you drunk?”

      He had hoped she hadn’t noticed. “Darlin’, I don’t think you want to know the answer to that.”

      This time he doubted Jessie’s groan of anguish had anything to do with her labor pains.

      “Luke?”

      “Yes, Jessie.”

      “Maybe you’d better bring me a very big glass of whatever it was you were drinking.”

      He grinned at the wistful note in her voice. “Darlin’, when this baby turns up, you and I are going to drink one hell of a toast. Until then, I think maybe we’d both better stay as far away from that bottle as we can. Besides, as best I can recall, I smashed it against the fireplace.”

      She regarded him with pleading blue eyes. “Luke, please? I’m not sure I can do this without help. There’s bound to be another bottle of something around here.”

      He thought of the cabinet filled with whiskey, considered getting a couple of shots to help both of them, then dismissed the temptation as a very bad idea. “You’ve got all the help you could possibly need. I’m right here with you. Besides, alcohol’s not good for the baby. Haven’t you read all those headlines warning about that very thing?”

      “I don’t think the baby’s going to be inside me long enough to get so much as a sip,” she said.

      As if to prove her point, her body was seized with another contraction. Going with sheer instinct, Luke reached out and placed his hand over her taut belly. The skin was smooth and tight as a drum as he massaged it gently until the muscles relaxed.

      He checked his watch, talked to her, and waited for the next contraction. It came three minutes later.

      He wiped her brow. “Hang in there, darlin’. I’ll be right back.”

      She leveled a blue-eyed glare on him. “Don’t you dare leave me,” she commanded in a tone that could have stopped the D-Day invasion.

      “I’m not going far. I just want some nice, sterile water in here when the baby makes its appearance. And we could use a blanket.” And something to cut the umbilical cord, he thought as his brain finally began to kick in without prodding.

      He’d never moved with more speed in his life. He tested the phone and discovered the lines were down. No surprise in this weather. He sterilized a basin, filled it with water, then cleaned the sharpest knife he could find with alcohol. He deliberately gave a wide berth to the cabinet with the whiskey. He was back in the bedroom before the next pain hit.

      “See there. I didn’t abandon you. Did you take natural childbirth classes?”

      Jessie nodded. “Started two weeks ago. We’d barely gotten to the breathing part.”

      “Then we’re in great shape,” he said with confidence. “You’re going to come through this like a champ.” The truth was he was filled with admiration for her. He’d always known she had more strength and courage than most women he’d known, but tonight she was proving it in spades.

      “Did you call a doctor?” she asked again.

      “I tried. I couldn’t get through. Don’t let it worry you, though. You’re doing just fine. Nature’s doing all the work. The doctor would just be window dressing.”

      Jessie shot him a baleful look.

      “Okay,” he admitted. “It would be nice to have an expert on hand, but this baby’s coming no matter who’s coaching it into the world, so we might just as well count our blessings that you got to my house. What were you doing out all alone on a night like this anyway?”

      “Going to your parents’ house,” she said. “They invited me for the holidays.”

      Luke couldn’t believe that they’d allowed her to drive this close to the delivery of their first grandchild. “Why the hell didn’t Daddy fly you over?”

      “He offered. I’m not crazy about flying in such a little plane, though. I told him the doctor had forbidden it.”

      Luke suspected that was only half the story. He grinned at her. “You sure that was it? Or did that streak of independence in you get you to say no, before you’d even given the matter serious thought?”

      A tired smile came and went in a heartbeat. “Maybe.”

      He hitched a chair up beside the bed and tucked her hand in his. He would not, would not allow himself to think about how sweet it was to be sitting here with her like this, despite the fact that only circumstance had forced them together.

      “Can’t say that I blame you,” he said. “If you don’t kick up a fuss with Daddy every now and then, next thing you know he’s running your life.”

      “Harlan just wants what’s best for his family,” she said.

      Luke smiled at her prompt defense of her father-in-law. One thing about Jessie, she’d always been fair to a fault. She’d even told anyone who’d listen that she didn’t blame him for Erik’s death,