“Then we need to go to the hospital.” Ms. Putnam reached for Clara, but Hazel stood and folded her arms beneath her ample bosoms. “She’s not going anywhere, Mabel. I’m a midwife and unless this storm lets up, we’re delivering this baby right here.” She pointed to the therapist’s purse. “Call the medics and they can come to us.”
Clara let out a wail as another pain tore through her. “But I wanted to deliver at the hospital,” she cried.
“Then that’s where we’re going,” the therapist said bluntly.
Outside, a siren wailed through the wind and suddenly Ms. Putnam jumped up and looked through the window. Her chest fell with her erratic breathing as she turned back to Clara.
“Maybe Hazel is right. But call me, and I’ll be back after the baby gets here, then we’ll talk.”
Without another word, the woman turned and rushed back to the kitchen. Clara heard the door slam, then an engine fire up, and realized the therapist was leaving.
Clara gripped her stomach as another pain seized her. If Ms. Putnam wanted to help her, why was she rushing off?
NINETY-SIX
Elm Street
Ellie thought she saw a car speeding away from Sanctuary House as she careened into the driveway. “Did you see that car?” she asked Derrick.
“Yeah, looks like folks would stay off the roads in this mess.”
An uneasy feeling crept up Ellie’s spine. What if that was Mabel Putnam?
She threw the Jeep into park, cut the siren and pulled her handheld radio in case someone tried to reach her. Tugging her hood over her head, she raced up the drive with Derrick on her heels. When she reached the door, she pounded on it. “Hazel, it’s Detective Reeves. Are you here?”
The wind nearly drowned out her voice, and she pounded the door again.
“What in the world?” Ms. Hazel said as she opened the door.
“We need to come in,” Ellie said, then introduced Derrick.
“Of course.” Freezing air and snow blew in as they entered, but Hazel just waved a hand. “What’s going on, Detective?”
“Is Clara here?” Ellie asked.
“Yes, in the living room. Come on in. She’s in labor.”
Oh, damn, Ellie thought as she followed Hazel. Sure enough, the pregnant teen was hunched over, her breathing choppy, her face contorted in pain.
“I’ll see if I can reach 9-1-1,” Derrick said.
“Good luck,” Hazel said. “We haven’t been able to get service since the storm started. I can deliver her baby. Detective, get some towels out of the linen closet in the hall bathroom and bring blankets as well.”
Ellie had never witnessed childbirth or assisted in one and she froze for a moment.
Clara let out a sob though, catapulting Ellie into motion, and she ran to the bathroom. She returned a minute later with her arms loaded with linens and laid them on the chair. Hazel instantly reached for one of the blankets and Ellie helped her get Clara up enough to slide it and a layer of towels beneath her.
“Just keep breathing in and out,” Hazel encouraged. She mimicked the Lamaze breathing techniques then turned to Ellie. “Squeeze her hand and help her focus on the breathing.”
“Agent Fox,” Hazel said. “My medical bag is in the kitchen pantry. Please bring it to me.”
“Copy.”
Derrick disappeared into the kitchen, and Hazel helped Clara get comfortable on the couch. “You’re doing fine, sweetheart,” Hazel said as Clara hung onto Ellie’s hand.
Derrick rushed in with the medical bag and Hazel opened it and got to work. The next few minutes flew by as the contractions intensified, coming one after another. Ellie admired Hazel’s calm encouraging manner, and when the baby’s cry mingled with Clara’s, tears filled her own eyes.
People always talked about the miracle of birth. It definitely was a miracle. Hazel wiped the baby girl clean, wrapped her in a baby blanket that Ellie retrieved for her, then placed the newborn into Clara’s arms.
