Big boxes. Was he some kind of bootlegger?
“What…what is all this?” She tried to crane her neck, her hands resting protectively around her swollen belly. “Are…you…a…smuggler?”
O’Rourke bit back a laugh. “Why? Do I look like a smuggler?”
She looked at him with eyes that were beginning to well up with pain again. “You…look…” She searched for a word. “Dangerous.”
He’d certainly never thought of himself in that light. “Dangerous?”
She hadn’t meant to insult him. He was trying to help her. “The…good…kind of…dangerous.”
Amusement curved his mouth even as she clutched at his hand again, squeezing his fingers hard. “There’s a good kind?”
“Yes…like you.” With his black hair and bright blue eyes, half naked, he made her think of some kind of tortured, poetic hero. “Dangerous…the kind who…lives…on the edge.” She blew out a long, cleansing breath, knowing another contraction was about to smash into her. She talked quickly, wanting to get it all out before she couldn’t. “Makes a woman’s heart flutter. That’s my problem. I’m attracted to the window dressing—only to find out that the sale’s been over…for months.”
The pain was making her delirious, O’Rourke decided. Maybe this wasn’t such a piece of cake as he’d hoped. Stories he’d heard from his mother about two-day-long labors came back to him.
He looked past the woman’s head toward the front of the van. Maybe there was time to drive her to some hospital after all.
Kitt grabbed his attention and his arm, digging in her nails and crying out.
And then again, maybe not, he amended.
“I’m breaking,” she screamed to him. “I’m…breaking…in half…. Someone’s…taking one leg…and pulling it…one way…and…the other’s…snapping…off.”
He’d heard his mother describe it that way. It was when his brother Donovan had made his appearance in the world. Donovan had come in at just under twelve pounds. His father’s chest had stayed puffed up for a week despite his mother’s choice words about the experience.
“Nobody’s pulling either leg, Kitt,” he told her as gently as he could while still keeping his voice raised so that she could hear him. “It’s your body telling you it’s almost time.”
“Almost time?” she echoed incredulously, able to focus on his face for a second. “My body’s…in…overtime! I’ve been…in…agony since before…I…left…the house.”
He didn’t doubt it. She looked like a strong woman, despite her small frame. Good breeding stock, his grandmother would have probably called her. He figured maybe he should put what she was going through in perspective for Kitt. “Women have been known to be in labor for thirty-six hours.”
That’s not what she wanted to hear at a time like this, when she felt like a ceremonial wishbone. “If I’m going to die,” she ground out between tightly clenched teeth, “you’re…going with me.”
He laughed as he wiped an unexpected bead of perspiration on his forehead with the back of his wrist. “Not at your best under pressure, are you, Kitt-with-two-t’s?”
“Yes,” she gasped as the pain began again. “I am…but there’s only…so much…pressure a person should…have to…take.” Her eyes flew open. This was the worst ever. She didn’t know if she could get past this latest wave. “Oh-God-oh-God-oh-God.”
He could tell by the way she was arching her back that this one had to be a doozy. He had to get her to focus her attention on something else.
“Now, you listen to me. Look at me.” When she didn’t, he took her chin in his hand and physically made her look in his direction. “Right here, focus your eyes and look at me.” O’Rourke pointed to his own eyes as he released her face. “We’re going to have this baby and we’re going to be done with it right quick, do you hear me? When I say ‘push’ I want you to bear down and push to the count of ten and then stop. Ready?” He said it with firm authority, belying his own queasy feelings.
She panted several times before she had enough energy to answer. “Ready.”
“Okay.” He braced himself. “Now push. Two-three-four…” He continued counting until he reached ten. “Okay, stop.”
As if all the air had been let out of her, Kitt collapsed, her head rolling to the side. She lay so still O’Rourke thought she’d fainted until he saw her tense again. Another contraction had taken hold, he thought. “Bear down, Kitt, bear down.”
“I am bearing down,” she spat out, her entire face scrunching up.
Agony was imprinted on her every feature. Her hands fisted, leaning down hard on her knuckles, Kitt hunched forward and pushed for all she was worth. Gasping, trying desperately to get in enough air to keep from passing out, she fell back before O’Rourke reached ten.
She’d stopped when he’d reached eight. This wasn’t going to get them anywhere. “Ten, Kitt, you stop at ten, not before.”
The man was a tyrant, a tall, good-looking, pig-headed tyrant. She didn’t even have enough strength to level a dirty look at him. “You stop at ten, I ran out of steam. As a matter of fact,” she said, her energy returning to some degree, “you have the baby. You’re better at this than I am.”
O’Rourke’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her. The uncanny instinct that had brought him to these shores and steered his career in the right direction told him what to do. “You didn’t tell me you were a slacker, Kitt-with-two-t’s.”
If she had the energy, she would have hit him. “You…didn’t…ask.”
“Kitt—”
The words of encouragement he was about to resort to never had the chance to be spoken. Kitt groaned and then whimpered. The desperate sound wrenched his heart. Another contraction was coming and it was obvious she had no strength for it.
She was going to pass out on him, he realized suddenly, his mind scrambling frantically for a course of action. She had to be up to this, there was no other way. O’Rourke took her hand, wrapping it in both of his.
“Come on, Kitt-with-two-t’s,” he coached earnestly, “you can do this. Mothers have been doing it since the beginning of time.”
“Fine…get one of…them…to do…it.”
He focused his eyes on hers, willing her to remain looking at him. “You know better than that, Kitt. It’s your baby, you have to do it.”
There were tears in her eyes as she dug her fists in on either side of her. “Okay, okay, okay…here comes…another one. E-e-e-e!” She shrieked for all she was worth, her body jolting from the force that slammed into her.
“Push,” he ordered. “Push like a life depended on it. Harder, harder—” He saw it then, the crown of the head. His heart began to beat as rapidly as he thought hers undoubtedly was. “He’s coming! He’s coming, Kitt. Your baby’s coming!”
