his brother’s name desperately. She understood that, the desperation. She wanted cool, calm, competent Brett there, with her, and she wanted him now. And when Brett came, so would her sister Angie. Angie was not only Brett’s wife, she was also his nurse. And of her six sisters, Glory had always felt closest to Angie. She could tell Angie anything. They were not only siblings, they were also best friends.
The phone was a few feet away down the counter. Going for it gave her an excuse to escape the scarily comforting circle of Bowie’s arms. She had the number of Brett’s clinic on auto dial, so she punched it up fast.
The receptionist answered on the second ring. “New Bethlehem Flat Clinic. This is Mina.”
“It’s Glory, Mina. I’m in labor. The baby’s coming and coming fast.”
“No kidding? Wow. Right now? Isn’t that a little early?”
Glory gritted her teeth. “Yeah, Mina. It’s two weeks early, but it’s happening. I need Brett and Angie over here at my place, now.”
“They’re out on a call.” A call. Sweet Lord. They were out on a call. Mina chattered on. “Scary, huh, in this weather? But evidently, Redonda Beals and Emmy Ralen just had to go out for their morning walk today of all days. The storm started. Redonda took a fall. Broke her arm in two places. It’s pretty bad, evidently. Dr. Brett is seeing what he can do about it until the weather clears and she can be airlifted to Grass Valley.”
“Can you reach them, tell them I’m going to need them over here, and fast?”
“They should be back soon—I mean, unless the snow keeps up like this.”
“Mina, hello. I asked if you would call them.”
Bowie moved closer, frowning. “Let me talk to her.”
Glory put her palm over the mouthpiece and told him drily, “Thanks, I can handle this.”
He stopped coming toward her, but he kept on frowning.
Mina was gabbing away again. “Now, Glory, I have kids of my own. I know how long labor takes. And I know sometimes you feel it’s urgent when really it’s going to be quite a while.”
Oh, great. Just what she needed. Lectures on childbirth from Mina Scruggs. “Mina, forget it. Are they at Redonda’s? I’ll look up the number and call them myself.”
“Glory, there is no reason to get snippy.”
“I am having my baby, Mina. I am having my baby now.”
Mina made a humphing sound. “How far apart are your contractions?”
As Mina said the operative word, another one hit—worse than the first one. It started at the top of Glory’s stomach and it moved downward, a deep, clutching, hard pain, gathering and pressing as it moved. She groaned and almost hit her forehead on the counter as she doubled over with the force of it.
“Glory! Glory, you still there?” Mina called from the other end of the line.
Bowie took the phone and growled into it. “She’s having a contraction. A strong one. You need to get Brett here right away…” Mina said something. He made a low sound. “Who am I? Bowie… That’s right, Mina. Bowie Bravo… Yeah. Right. I’m back in town. Surprise, surprise. Now don’t you be messin’ with me. Get my brother over here and get him here right now.…”
Glory tuned out the rest. She was too busy riding that contraction all the way to hell and back and swearing a blue streak as she went.
She didn’t normally have a filthy mouth, but there was something about giving birth. It brought out every bad word she’d ever heard and some she couldn’t believe she knew.
When that one finally passed, Bowie had already hung up. He reported, “Mina will call them and tell them. They’ll get in touch.”
Her hair was already damp with sweat. Ugh. She swiped it back off her clammy forehead. “When, damn it?”
“She said she’d call them right away.”
“Okay. Great.” With care, pressing a hand to her back, she straightened up.
He looked down at the phone he held and then up at her. “Do you want to…go to your bedroom, get a little more comfortable?”
Oh, God. Having her baby. With only Bowie to help. “Bet you wish you’d picked another day to make your big appearance, huh?”
He stared at her for what seemed like a very long time. And then he said, “Well, I’m here. And I’ll do what I can. Now, answer the question. You want to lie down or something?”
“Uh, no. Not right this minute.” She bent at the waist and rested her head on the counter again. It was cool and smooth and felt good against her cheek. “I’ll just stay here for now, wait for Brett to call, beat my head against the counter when the next contraction hits.”
He looked stricken. “Don’t even joke about it.”
“Right.” She blew out a hard breath through puffed cheeks. “Sorry.”
He held up the phone. “How about your mom? Should I call her?”
Her mom. Good idea. Rose Dellazola knew a lot about having kids. She’d had nine of her own and been there at the births of every one of her grandchildren. “Yeah, please. It’s number two on the auto dial—and Bowie?”
“Yeah?”
“Tell her if she brings Aunt Stella, I will personally kill both of them.” Her maiden aunt, who lived with her mamma and her dad, was extremely devout. At births, Stella Baldovino spouted scripture and counted off the rosary—like she did pretty much everywhere she went.
He started to dial.
“Wait.” Her cheek still pressed to the cool polished surface of the counter, she held out her hand. “I can do it.”
He regarded her doubtfully. “Glory…”
She fisted her hand and pounded the pretty blue-speckled black granite that Matteo had ordered installed for her birthday last year. “Give me the phone. Now.”
He handed it over. She braced up on her elbows and punched the right number. It rang three times and then the answering machine picked up.
“Hello,” her mother’s recorded voice chirped. “Dellazola residence. We do want to talk to you. Please leave a message and we’ll get back to you as soon as we can.”
Terrific. Her mom, her dad, her great-grandpa and Aunt Stella all lived in that house together. And they all had to choose today not to be home. Where had they gone in a blizzard?
She didn’t even care to know. “Mom,” she told the machine. “I’m having the baby. And I mean right now. When you get this, get over here to my house. I need you—and do not bring Aunt Stella. I mean that. Just don’t.” She turned the phone off and felt the next contraction coming on. “Bowie?” she moaned.
“Right
