“Tag called your daddy,” Opal said. “He’s on his way to your house to get it. He’ll bring it over to the hospital too.”
Pure gratitude ran through Gerty as the night air disappeared under the covering of the blanket.
“I’m going to sit you up,” Opal said. “The paramedics will be here in ninety seconds, and I think you can hold off on having him until then.”
Gerty had never had ninety seconds pass so slowly, and it seemed to take forever for the ambulance to arrive, even after she first heard the siren.
Two men approached with a gurney, and Opal gave them all the information she had. Gerty let herself get loaded from thepassenger seat of her husband’s truck to the gurney to the back of the ambulance.
Mike climbed in with her, immediately taking her hand. “We’re okay,” he told her, leaning over and pressing his lips to her forehead as the IV went into her wrist. “They have all the medical equipment we need.”
She looked up and into her husband’s eyes. “I like the name Thad the best.”
He grinned at her. “And your daddy’s name for the middle name?”
She nodded as another contraction rocked through her, the need to push so, so, so strong. She groaned and tried to sit up, saying, “I need to?—”
“Nope,” the paramedic nearest her said. “I don’t want you to push yet.” He put a firm hand on her shoulder. “We’re almost ready, though.”
Mike had to move back, and the paramedics started talking to her, asking her questions, and giving each other instructions—all while the ambulance raced toward the hospital, its siren screaming.
A couple of hours later, Gerty opened her arms for her perfectly wrapped baby boy. Love filled her from head to toe, and her face contained a smile she couldn’t have erased if she tried.
“Here he is,” Mike whispered. “All bathed and ready for you, Momma.”
She couldn’t look away from Thad’s beautiful face, his perfect little nose, his wisp of light blonde hair. “He looks like me,” she whispered. West had been all Mike, all Hammond, all day long.
Thad seemed to have picked up on some of her genes, and Gerty looked up at her husband. “Thank you for going with him.”
She’d delivered the baby in the back of the ambulance as they’d arrived in the emergency bay. Four nurses had met them, and they’d immediately whisked the baby away, into a more temperature-controlled environment.
Gerty had sent Mike with them, while the paramedics had moved her into a room in the emergency department, where she’d delivered the afterbirth, been monitored for an hour, and then moved to the maternity department.
She’d been waiting to meet her son since, and now, she relaxed into Mike’s side as he slid into the narrow hospital bed with her, curling his arm around her and Thad and securing them both against his chest.
“You’re incredible, Gerty,” he said.
“We almost made it,” she said.
“Almost.” He chuckled. “West is in bed at Opal’s, and your daddy dropped off the baby bag. I sent my parents back to the farm too. They’ll all come in the morning to meet him.”
Gerty nodded and closed her eyes as she relaxed into Mike’s safety and warmth. “Next time we have a baby, we’re moving into a suite next door to the hospital and not going anywhere for the last three weeks of the pregnancy.”
“Yes, we are,” Mike whispered. “Yes, we absolutely are.”
forty-five
Briar loved summer in Colorado. She loved the way August gave way to September too, and how golden and glorious everything became in October. She’d helped with a robust harvesting season, thanks to the agricultural specialist Tuck and Bobbie Jo had hired, and Bobbie Jo had more goats than ever.
Tuck and Myron worked with eight cowboys now, and Tarr hadn’t left the farm once to help out with Stetson’s training. Briar had only had to be firm with him about it once, and he’d done the same with Tucker.
The weather had started to turn colder and colder, and all the trees had lost their leaves now. Her roof had been replaced that autumn, and Briar had just had her cord of wood delivered. She was set for another winter here on the farm, and she pushed herself back and forth in the rocking chair on her front porch, her morning coffee steaming into the air.
She’d bundled herself up in her coat and hat, and she smiled as Wiggins did what Wiggins always did—sniffed around for the just-right spot to take care of his business.
She smiled at him and finished her coffee. She couldn’t stay outside much longer, because she still wore her pajamas, and the fabric wasn’t thick enough to keep her legs warm. “Come on,Wiggy,” she called, and he came joyfully bounding back up to the porch.
They went inside together, where she shed her coat and hat while he went to get a loud, lapping drink. Briar put her coffee cup in the sink and went down the hall to brush her teeth. With that job halfway done, Wiggins started barking his fool head off, and she made a half-gargled yell at him to stop it.
