Cassie Miles

Mountain Midwife


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brown. His jaw was rough with stubble that looked almost fashionable, and his smile was dazzling. “You’re staring, Rachel. Memorizing my face?”

      “Don’t need to,” she shot back. “I’m sure there are plenty of pictures of you on ‘Wanted’ posters.”

      “I said it before, and I’ll say it again. I’m not going to hurt you.”

      “Apart from kidnapping me?”

      “I won’t apologize for that. Penny needs you.”

      Rather than answering her challenge, he had appealed to her better instincts. Cole was smooth, all right. Probably a con man as well as a robber. Unfortunately, she had a bad habit of falling for dangerous men. Not this time.

      “Don’t bother being charming,” she said. “I’m going to need your help with Penny, but I don’t like you, Cole. I don’t trust a single word that comes out of your mouth.”

      He grinned. “You think I’m charming.”

      Jerk! As she smoothed the sheets, she asked, “Which one of the men out there is the father of Penny’s baby?”

      “None of us.”

      Of course not. That would be too easy. “Can he be reached?”

      “We’re not on vacation here. This is a hideout. We don’t need to invite visitors.”

      But this was a nice house—not a shack in the woods. Finding this supposed “hideout” that happened to be conveniently vacant was too much of a coincidence. “You must have planned to come here.”

      “Hell, no. We were supposed to be in Salt Lake City by now. When Penny went into labor, we had to stop. The house belongs to someone she knows.”

      The fact that Penny had contacts in this area might come in handy. Rachel needed to keep her ears and eyes open, to gather every bit of information that she could. There was no telling what might be useful.

      By the time Penny got out of the tub, Rachel had transformed the bedroom into a clean, inviting space using supplies from her van. The bedding was fresh. A healing fragrance of eucalyptus and pine wafted from an herbal scent diffuser. Native American flute music rose from a CD player.

      Before Penny got into bed, Rachel replaced the dressings on her leg wound, using an antiseptic salve to ease the pain. In her work as a nurse-midwife, she leavened various herbal and homeopathic methods with standard medical procedure. Basically, she did whatever worked.

      Though Penny remained diffident, she looked young and vulnerable with the makeup washed off her face. Mostly, she seemed tired. The stress of labor and the trauma of being shot had taken their toll.

      Rachel took her blood pressure, and she wasn’t surprised that it was low. Penny’s pulse was jumpy and weak.

      When her next contraction hit, Rachel talked her through it. “You don’t have to tough it out. If you need the release of yelling—”

      “No,” she snapped. “I’m not giving those bastards the satisfaction of hearing me scream.”

      Apparently, she was making up for her weakened physical condition with a powerful hostility. Rachel asked, “Should I send Cole out of the room while I do the vaginal exam?”

      “Yes.”

      He was quick to leave. “I’ll fetch the tea.”

      Alone with Penny, Rachel checked the cervix. Dilation was already at seven centimeters. This baby could be coming sooner than she’d thought. “You’re doing a good job,” she encouraged. “It won’t be too much longer.”

      “Is my baby okay?”

      “Let’s check it out.”

      Usually, there was an implied trust between midwife and mom, but this situation was anything but usual. As Rachel hooked up the fetal monitor, she tried to be conversational. “When is your due date?”

      “Two days from now.”

      “That’s good. You carried to full term.” At least, there shouldn’t be the problems associated with premature birth. “Is there anything I ought to know about? Any special problems during your pregnancy?”

      “I got fat.”

      Rachel did a double take before she realized Penny was joking. “Are you from around here?”

      “We lived in Grand Lake for a while. I went to high school in Granby.”

      “That’s where I live,” Rachel said. “Is your family still in Grand Lake?”

      “It’s just me and my mom. My dad left when I was little. I never missed having him around.” She touched her necklace and rubbed her thumb over the shiny black pearl. “Mom gave me this. It’s her namesake—Pearl. She lives in Denver, but she’s house-sitting for a friend in Grand Lake.”

      They weren’t too far from there. Grand Lake was a small village—not much more than a main street of shops and lodging for tourists visiting the scenic lakeside. “Should I try to contact your mother?”

      “Oh. My. God.” Penny rolled her eyes. “If my mom knew what I was up to, she’d kill me.”

      Her jaw clenched, and Rachel talked her through the contraction. Penny must have had some Lamaze training because she knew the breathing techniques for dealing with the pain.

      When she settled back against the pillows, she said, “If anything happens to me, I want my mom to have my baby.”

      “Not the father?”

      “Mom’s better.” She chewed her lower lip. “She’ll be a good grandma if I’m not around.”

      Considering a premature death wasn’t the best way to go into labor. Rachel preferred to keep the mood upbeat and positive. “You’re doing fine. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

      “Do you believe in premonitions? Like stuff with tarot cards and crystal balls?”

      “Not really.”

      “My friend Jenna did a reading for me. Hey, maybe you know her. She lives in Granby, too. Jenna Cambridge?”

      “The name isn’t familiar.”

      “She’s kind of quiet. Doesn’t go out much,” Penny said. “Every time I visit her, I try to fix her up. But she’s stuck on some guy who dumped her a long time ago. What a waste! Everybody falls. The trick is to get back on the bicycle.”

      Though Rachel wasn’t prone to taking advice from a pregnant criminal who didn’t trust the father of her baby, she had to admit that Penny made a good point. “Doesn’t do any good to sit around feeling down on yourself.”

      “Exactly.” She threw up her hands. “Anyway, Jenna read my cards and told me that something bad was going to happen. My old life would be torn asunder. Those were her words. And she drew the death card.”

      Her friend Jenna sounded like a real peach. Pregnant women were stressed enough without dire warnings. “The death card could mean a change in your life. Like becoming a mom.”

      “Maybe you’re right. I have changed. I took real good care of myself all through the pregnancy. No booze. No cigs. I did everything right.”

      Except robbing a casino. Rachel finished hooking up the monitor and read the electronic blips. “Your baby’s heartbeat is strong and steady.”

      When Cole returned with the raspberry tea, Rachel moved into the familiar pattern of labor—a combination of her own expertise and the mother’s natural instincts. Needing to move, Penny got out of the bed a couple of times and paced. When she complained of back pain, Cole volunteered to massage. His strong hands provided Penny with relief. He was turning out to be an excellent helper—uncomplaining and quick to follow her instructions.

      When the