to weigh very much. She looked petite and fragile. Her hair had come partially loose from her braid and it fell in gentle reddish-gold waves and ringlets around her heart-shaped, freckled-nosed face and down her shoulders.
“Are you sure you’re in labor?” he asked as he grabbed the covers and pulled them up over her body. Before she could answer, he saw the wet, stained sheets, his gaze moving from the bed to her face again.
“I’m very much in labor,” she said, fear making the words a mere whisper. “And so glad you came along.” Then she gave him a weak smile. “You’re soaked to the bone. Go by the…fire.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Jared replied as he ran a hand through his drenched hair to get it off his face.
“Cold out there,” she whispered, a visible shiver going through her body. “A cold Easter.”
“What can I do?” Jared asked, looking around for a phone while he dripped puddles of water on the plank floor. “Have you called anyone?”
“No phone,” she said as she gripped the covers, her eyes going wide.
She had green eyes, Jared saw. And right now they were filled with fear and concern.
“You don’t have a telephone?” He hadn’t meant the words to sound so harsh, but who in this day and age didn’t have a telephone, even on a remote mountain?
“I never needed one before,” she replied with a bit of defensive fire. “The baby’s coming early. We have to go to plan B.”
Jared let out a sigh then took off his wet jacket, dropping it on a thick rug at the foot of the bed. “What was plan A?”
“Dr. Sloane and a midwife—Miss Mozelle—to assist.”
“And where is Dr. Sloane? Where is the midwife?”
Grimacing, she grabbed the bed railing, her next words coming out in a gasp of pain. “Up the mountain. Can’t make it.”
“I have a cell phone,” he said, grabbing at the inside of the jacket he’d just dropped on the floor.
“No good. The reception here is terrible, even on a good clear day.”
Jared had to try anyway. Frantically he tried dialing 911 on the fancy silver gadget—several times. He got only a weak signal message, then the phone blinked out of commission completely. With this storm, even if there was a tower close by, it probably wouldn’t be very receptive anyway. Tucking the useless phone back into the hidden pocket, he said, “Okay, then what’s plan B?”
“You and I get to do it. And I’m making up the rest as I…go.”
She collapsed into another contraction while Jared watched helplessly, grimacing at the intensity of her pain. What now? He didn’t think he was ready for plan B.
Jared decided he’d ask questions later. And he had a lot of questions. Right now, this woman was going into labor and she needed his help.
“Okay, what do I do?”
“Ever lived on a farm?”
“No. I grew up in Atlanta.”
“Atlanta?” Her eyes grew wide again, and seemed even more green. Warily, she stared at him with a wild, anxious expression. “Where…what part of Atlanta?”
“North of the city. Buckhead.”
That seemed to satisfy her, even though she still looked almost afraid of him. Her eyes darted across the room, then back to his face, questioning and unsure.
“Look, you’re going to be fine,” Jared said, thinking she was probably worried about a stranger helping to deliver her baby. “I’ve never done this before with any animals or humans, but surely between the two of us, we can manage to bring your baby into the world.”
“I hope so,” she said, forcing a weak smile. “He must be ready to get going.” She grimaced, her gaze searching his face. “Do you have children?”
“No. I’m…not married.”
She stared up at him, as if measuring his credentials. “Why not?”
Jared shrugged, thinking that was a very good question. He could see Meredith’s tear-streaked face, could still hear her weak excuses. “Just never worked out that way. I’ve come close a couple of times, but—”
“You don’t have to explain,” she replied, her eyes widening with pain. “At least not right now.”
“Okay, then. How are you right now?”
“Not so hot. Waiting for the next wave.”
“You mean, a contraction?”
She nodded. “Book, down on the floor.”
Jared followed the direction of her finger. Moving around the bed, he glanced down and saw a big, dog-eared paperback book lying open-faced by the bed. He reached to pick it up, amazed by the title. “A how-to book, huh?”
“Yes. Find the page about giving birth at home.”
Jared stared sharp-eyed at the woman, then started searching the pages of the book. He was usually pretty good with directions, but…this? Delivering a baby? Suddenly, he realized the magnitude of the situation. What if he did something wrong, something to harm her or the baby?
“Are you sure we can’t get you to a hospital?” he asked. “My car’s stalled out in a big mud hole, but if you have one—”
“I don’t have a car.”
No phone. No car. This woman definitely lived the old-fashioned way.
“Do you think you could hold on until I try to get my SUV out of the bog?”
“No,” she said in a loud moan of pain. “No. This baby is coming now. Right now. Even if you got your car going, we’d never make it down the mountain to a hospital—the roads are probably washed out. I don’t think I could even make it the half mile to the doc’s clinic in the village. Now, are you going to argue with me or are you going to help me?”
Jared didn’t know how to answer that. He knew he’d have to assist her, but there must be a better way.
“Look, mister,” the woman said after the contraction had stopped, “all night long I’ve been praying for God to send me somebody. And now that you’re here, I don’t have time for you to decide if you’re up to the task. I need you to boil some water and get a pair of scissors out of the drawer by the sink in the kitchen. Then I need you to prop my bottom up with those sheets in that chair. Then I need you to—”
She stopped, mortification covering her face in a soft blush. “You’ll have to look in that closet by the rocking chair. There’s a piece of netting in there I was saving to put over the baby’s bassinet, to protect against bugs. You can place that over my…my…private parts.”
Jared had to smile at that endearing euphemism. “You want me to help you give
