at him so blankly he was afraid she was in beginning hypothermia. “Come with me,” he said, taking her chilled hand and leading her into the bathroom.
“I’ll start the water,” he told her. When he released her hand, she stood where he’d left her, her face expressionless. He was about to tell her he’d get out of the room so she could peel off her wet clothes, but she didn’t seem to move.
“Are you able to get undressed without help?” he asked bluntly.
The woman didn’t answer.
He pushed out a frustrated breath. “Look,” he said, “my name is Dan, and I’m going to have to help you take that shower. Okay?”
He started the water, testing the temperature until it was good and warm, then he pulled her shirt over her head. She didn’t react so he turned his attention to the elastic-waist pants that were pulled over the huge bulge in her abdomen. He put down the lid of the toilet, eased her onto it, then removed her shoes, socks and the pants, leaving her in a pair of under-pants and a bra that seemed dry.
As he unhooked her bra, he realized just how cold her skin was to his touch. Half-frozen. Where the hell had she come from? He quickly took off her panties, then stood her up and urged her into the shower. Because he worried she might collapse, he stayed in the bathroom watching her as she stood under the running water.
When he judged the water had warmed her, he turned off the faucets, took her hand and led her out of the stall, drying her off with a towel, then wrapping another around her. He led her back into the main room by the fire then he ran up the stairs to his loft bedroom and rummaged through an old cedar chest to find something dry for her to wear. Flannel. Yes, that would do.
He put his grandfather’s old flannel pajama top on her, trying not to touch her full breasts as he buttoned it down the front. His grandfather had been a tall and heavy man so the top hung almost to her knees. After he rolled up the sleeves for her, Dan said, “I’ll sit you down so we can get on the pajama bottoms.”
To his surprise this produced a reaction. She shook her head.
“You’d be warmer with them on.”
Pain flickered across her face and she crossed her hands over her swollen abdomen. “It’s coming,” she said.
“It?”
“The baby.”
Dan swallowed. “Are you sure?”
She nodded.
He stared at her, trying to come to terms with the realization that he was the only one she could depend on for help. No, wait, there was his doctor brother in Evergreen Bluff. He couldn’t get her there but he could call Bruce and ask him what the hell to do.
Leading her to the old couch that was angled to face the fire, he settled her there, saying, “Take it easy, okay?”
He strode to the wall phone. As he reached for it, the lights went out. He lifted the receiver to his ear and confirmed even more bad news. No dial tone. The phone line was down as well as the electric line and unfortunately, his cell phone didn’t work in this remote place.
“Don’t worry,” he said, as much to himself as to the woman. “I’ll light a couple of lanterns.”
With the light from the fire guiding him, he soon had two of the kerosene lamps lit. He placed one on the all-purpose table in the main room and set the other on an end table next to the couch. He could see her huddled over, hands clutching her abdomen.
“Hurts,” she said.
Damn. He knelt on the floor beside the couch, his mind scrambling to retrieve what he’d learned in the medic classes he’d taken when he first joined the Archer City Police Force. Childbirth had been briefly included.
“As I said before, I’m Dan,” he told her. “Dan Sorenson. Can you tell me your name?”
She looked directly at him, seeming to actually see him for the first time. “Fay. Fay Merriweather. Thanks for—” she fluttered her hands in the air “—taking me in and all.”
He smiled at her. “Hello, Fay. Now tell me, is this the date when you expected the baby to arrive?”
“No, it’s about two weeks early.”
Dan took care not to show his relief. At least the baby wouldn’t be one of those real tiny, fragile premature babies.
Dan culled his mind for other questions he was supposed to ask. “Fay, have you been under the care of a doctor?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “He didn’t want me to drive to Duluth. I should have listened.”
That made two of them who wished she had. Probably three, if he included her.
“You don’t happen to be a doctor, I suppose?” she added.
“Sorry, no. I’m a cop.”
“You must have delivered babies before then.” She sounded relieved.
He nodded, with no intention of telling her it had been once only, and that the baby had more or less arrived on his own. The ambulance had shown up quickly and swept mother and child off to the hospital, relieving Dan of all responsibility.
Fay moaned. “Here comes another contraction.”
“I think you ought to be lying down,” he said.
She didn’t reply for several moments, then straightened up, took a deep breath and said, “In my prenatal classes, they said to put plastic under you if you find you’re going to have an emergency delivery. Plastic and some old towels or something you can throw away after.”
He fervently wished it already was after. “And I’ll get a blanket while I’m at it.”
“An old one,” she called after him as he strode toward the storage cabinet in the back shed.
He was grateful she’d warmed up enough to be coherent, because he was going to need all the help he could get. It’d be a hell of a lot easier to psych himself into confronting an armed perp than to face delivering a baby.
Armed with a plastic drop cloth, and a stack of worn-but-clean towels, he went back and prepared the couch the way Fay had told him. He then returned to the loft and brought out an old quilt from the cedar chest. Back in the main room, he found Fay pacing slowly back and forth.
“Ready,” he told her. “You can stretch out.”
“Thanks. I know I’m supposed to keep active as much as possible as long as I can, but I really feel exhausted.” She settled onto the couch, arranging a throw pillow under her head, but leaving the quilt folded on the top of the couch back. Looking up at him, she said. “If I hadn’t seen your light…” Her words trailed off and she began to take deep breaths.
“Another contraction?”
She nodded, and he knelt beside her again, this time tentatively resting his hand on her abdomen. Through the cloth of the flannel top, it felt rigid as a board. He checked the second hand of his watch,
