Baby on the Way (14 page)

“It’s not goodbye. I’ll be back, Lyn. You’ll see. But meanwhile, I’m leaving you in God’s hands. You couldn’t be safer.”

Then he pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips on hers, kissing her with the purpose and intensity of a man who knows exactly what he wants and has no doubt he’ll attain it.

“Goodbye, little mama. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Jordan.” But there was no one to hear the whispered words. No one but the wind as it whistled in through the open door.

“T
he weather office is warning everyone to stay off the roads this Tuesday afternoon as sleet and rain combine with snow and high winds to create a huge outdoor skating rink. The storm is expected to continue until well into tomorrow.”

Great, Caitlin thought, as she shut off the television. She was stuck at home without a single soul for company.

“It’s the perfect time for a little one-on-one with the kitchen,” she decided and pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. Two minutes later she was tugging one off to answer the phone.

“I’m fine, Eliza. No, I haven’t been out. Beth is at the store and she intends to stay there overnight just in case the flower coolers go out. Maryann and her daughter are visiting out of town.”

She paused and listened.

“Really it’s fine. I’ve lots of food, plenty of wood
for the fire, and several really good books. I’ll be snuggled in for the duration.”

By the time she rang off, Eliza seemed satisfied that Caitlin was only a phone call away.

“At least now she won’t get in her car and drive over here,” Caitlin muttered, rubbing a sore spot in the center of her back. Two minutes later she heaved herself up from scrubbing the baseboards to answer the phone again.

“Yes, Robyn, your mother just called. Everything’s fine. No, I’m not doing anything too strenuous,” she lied. “Yes, I’ll be fine.”

“Well, whatever you do, just sit tight and relax,” her sister-in-law ordered before she rang off.

“I’d love to relax,” Caitlin muttered wryly. “But the phone keeps ringing.”

With a determined nudge, the worry of being alone receded to the back of her mind. Once the kitchen was clean, she concentrated on removing the mildew from the grout in the bathroom.

By six o’clock there was a glassy sheet of crystalclear ice in front of the house and down the street as far as she could see. Freezing cold rain dashed down to the ground, sticking to whatever substance it met. Caitlin cringed when she spied the power lines, sagging with their ice-encrusted load.

“It can’t be that bad,” she told herself sternly. “Mr. Wilson just drove into his yard.”

Unfortunately Mr. Wilson couldn’t stop and Caitlin winced as his car plowed into the perfect splendor of his beautiful new oak-paneled garage door.

“That’s going to cost some money,” she murmured, watching as the elderly man carefully worked his way past the car and up the walk, slipping and sliding from side to side. “But at least he wasn’t hurt.”

She heaved a sigh of relief when he finally made it inside. The telephone interrupted her musings and Caitlin absently rubbed her stomach as she answered. These Braxton-Hicks were getting really fierce.

“It’s me, honey. Stan says this is our last chance to make it over. Are you sure you don’t want us to come?”

“Of course not, Eliza. It’s awful outside. Besides, I’m perfectly fine and I can do whatever needs doing around here without you guys risking your lives on those roads.”

“You’re sure? No baby yet?”

“Of course I’m sure and that question is getting old very quick.” She paused, stuffing down frustration. “I’m just going to have some dinner, watch a little television and then head for bed. What could be simpler?”

“And you’re not having any contractions? Your water hasn’t broken?” Eliza’s worried voice carried clearly over the line. “You’re past your date, Caitlin, so you have to monitor these things very carefully now.”

“I know. And I have been. But there’s nothing unusual here, Eliza. Junior is just pushing a little. He
thinks his momma is a football, I guess.” She drew circles on her stomach, hoping to quiet the agile baby.

“Huh! Sounds like Jordan! He was determined not to leave without doing some damage. That boy can’t be swayed once he makes up his mind.”

“No, I guess not. Any word from him?” She hated asking it, but Jordan hadn’t phoned her once in the past three days. She missed him, the sound of his booming voice, his capable hands, his tender glances.

“Not a word, though he often doesn’t call when he’s away on a job. He just shows up once the work is done. I hope he’s not flying tonight!”

Something else to worry about, Caitlin thought after hanging up the phone. Imagining Jordan in an airplane in this ice storm made her physically sick and as the bile rose she rushed into the bathroom.

“Why is it that nothing with this pregnancy is going according to the books?” she asked herself later, having recovered enough strength to down a few more tablespoons of the lukewarm broth. “Evening sickness in the ninth month is not nice!”

She gasped and grabbed her stomach as a fierce cramp seized her belly.

“Now you don’t like tomato soup?” she gasped, breathing more deeply as the sensation eased, then passed. “What a fussy kid.”

Caitlin stood carefully, rubbing her back as she inched forward toward the sofa. If she could just make it there and lie down, everything would be fine.

“Leaving the kitchen,” she announced and then gasped as warm wet fluid gushed down her legs. “Oh,
no! My water broke!” She hobbled through to the laundry room, found some clean clothes and changed as quickly as she could. She was just easing on her slippers when the lights flickered.

“No,” she cried out, gripping the closet door. “Please not that!”

The lights stayed on until she arrived in the living room. Then, suddenly, everything was dark. A crack outside coincided with a flesh-searing contraction that threatened to tear her insides out.

“Oh, God!” she breathed with heartfelt appeal. “The baby’s coming and I’m all alone.”

The Lamaze lessons that seemed so simple mere weeks ago fled her mind and it was all Caitlin could do to sink into her chair and puff her way through one contraction after another, wondering at the strength and intensity of them.

Outside something shattered, then thundered to the ground, reminding her of the past. It had been exactly like this the night her parents had died. Her father had been outside fixing a shutter when the call came about her grandmother.

They’d scrambled into the car and started out for the hospital, careening from left to right over the slick surface, missing cars, posts and red lights by inches. Only they hadn’t missed the last one. A semi-truck, unable to stop on the glare ice, plowed into them with a sickening crunch Caitlin could still hear today.

How long had she lain there in the car, waiting for whatever took her parents to kill her, too? How may times had she begged God to send someone to help
her mother, to stop that awful wheezing sound she made with every breath?

She came back to reality with a thud. How long had she been lying here, panting her way through one pain after the other?

Oh, God, please send me some help. Why didn’t I let Eliza come over? Why was I too proud to ask for help?

The questions boiled through her mind in lucid moments when she wasn’t concentrating on her abdomen. During a particularly long lull Caitlin managed to light the big eucalyptus candle that sat on her coffee table, but the light was faint and flickering in the huge room. No streetlights shone outside.

Please God, send me someone. I’m sorry I haven’t trusted You. I know I was wrong. I just couldn’t shake off the past. But I never really stopped believing in You. Not really. Please forgive me?

The next contraction was the most painful yet and she whimpered in agony, wondering how she would get out of this fix. The telephone! She reached for it, dialed 911 and found the line dead.

Caitlin wanted to light the fire to ward off some of the chill that was seeping through her thin blouse, but she couldn’t seem to make it to the fireplace before yet another contraction hit. She breathed it through, reminding herself of the two techniques she could recall. Breathe deeply and relax.

The minutes dragged past, counted off by the mantel clock. Caitlin lost track of everything but the fact that she and the baby were in trouble.

Call upon Me and I will hear you in the day of trouble.

The old Sunday school verse her father had recited so often popped into her mind.

“Okay, God. I’m calling. Please help me in this awful time of trouble. I’m afraid for the baby. Please don’t take him. Please God.”

She huffed and puffed her way through another pain and then froze as a noise at the front door caught her attention.

Burglars! Looting homes and shops while there was no one to catch them. What would happen when they saw the place wasn’t empty?

Caitlin prayed harder, breathed deeper, and counted longer as the contractions dragged out. She strained to hear what was going on at the front door, but her attention strayed, her mind revisiting the terrifying looting scenes she’d seen on television just last week.

I’m here. I’ve always been here. Call on Me.

“Please, God,” she whispered, shrinking as far back into the chair as she could. “Please help me. Send me someone. Please.”

The front door creaked open and a shadow inched its way froward. Caitlin could see it all from her chair. Belatedly she wished she’d closed her apartment door. But she’d wanted to waylay anyone who could help her.

The person headed into her living room, carefully edging around the furniture with tentative groping hands. He was big, far too big for her to overpower. As he came closer, Caitlin prayed harder and refused
to give in to the agony that racked her body. She bit her lip, closed her eyes and counted to twenty.

“Ouch!” A thud, a crash, and then a voice that was loud and unmistakable. “Good grief!”

“Jordan?” Caitlin could have wept with relief when his face, finally lit by that one flickering candle, swam into her tear-filled view.

He lit the three candles clenched in his hand and stood them on the table, eyes narrowing as he studied her. “Are you all right? I’ve been phoning for ages, but the line isn’t working. Mom said she’d talked to you earlier, but I thought I’d check anyway.”

Caitlin couldn’t answer, she couldn’t move. The best she could manage were short shallow puffs that kept the oxygen moving through her body.

“Caitlin? What’s wrong?” He was there, beside her, holding her hands as she let the crest of it roll over her.

“I have to go to the hospital, Jordan. Now. Ooh, here comes another one!” She held on to his hand like a lifeline, refusing to let go until sanity returned.

“You chose tonight to go into labor? Honestly, Caitlin!” A ghost of a grin spread across his pale face. “You are the most stubborn woman I have ever known. I suppose you thought you’d do this alone, too!”

He stopped, winced, flexed his fingers and then held them out again. “Come on, kiddo. Hang on to me. Just keep breathing.”

Caitlin renewed her grip on him and prepared for the next wave of unwavering pain. “As if I could stop
breathing. I’m beginning to wonder if Robyn was right about you.” She closed her eyes, concentrated on the searing agony going on inside her body and puffed her way through the contraction.

“Don’t you start with me,” she heard him mutter in a warning that belied his tender touch as he lifted her up and carried her slowly but surely to the front door.

“It’s the lousiest night of the year to be driving, you know.” Jordan’s voice was quiet, conversational, with just a hint of steel running through it. “There are lines down everywhere because of the ice. For a woman who doesn’t like to live dangerously you sure chose a funny time to have this baby.”

“He chose it. Not me. Ow!”

“But we’ll make it, Lyn. We’ll make it just fine. You keep hanging on to me.”

“As if,” she puffed, tightening her hand on his shoulder, “I could do…
puff, puff
…anything else.”

He set her carefully inside his car, did up the seat belt and raced around to climb in the other side. She saw him fumble in his jacket for a moment before his cell phone appeared.

Another contraction hit and Caitlin heard little except Jordan’s fierce order to have a doctor standing by.

“Jordan?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He revved the engine and slowly backed out of her drive. “What is it?”

“I’m scared, Jordan. Really scared. The contractions came awfully fast after my water broke.” She
swallowed and looked him straight in the eye. “Do you think my baby is all right?”

“I think your baby is just fine, darlin’. A little pushy, maybe, but hey, I’m in favor of pushiness.” He grinned, his eyes glittering. “Still, we’ve got to get you to the hospital now. Couldn’t hurt to get a second opinion. Will you trust me to do that?”

Trust him? Of course she trusted him. Jordan was a man of his word. But what if the streets were too icy? What if they had an accident? What if they couldn’t get through? The worries swirled around her, sucking her in like an eddy of current.

“Lyn? Sweetheart, if you were thinking about letting God back inside, now would be a really good time. If you trust in Him, ask Him to help us, I know He won’t let us down. Can you do that?”

Caitlin stiffened, preparing herself for whatever lay ahead. And then something tweaked at her brain.

“I did pray,” she mumbled. “I prayed that God would send someone and He sent you.” The very thought of it held her speechless for long tense moments. It was amazing! It was wonderful. It was… God. Talking to her!

He’d answered. She’d called and He’d answered her prayer.

“Just keep praying, honey. Your track record can only get better.” Jordan patted her hand, shifted gears and started slowly down the glassy street, steering first left, then right to avoid the downed power lines that littered the area. “Trust God, Lyn. He won’t disappoint you.”

But Caitlin heard him only vaguely. For some reason the contractions had slowed. Her eyes took in the ravaged streets, the cars that slipped and slid across the road into other cars, smashing metal and grinding bumper to bumper. As Jordan fishtailed his car out of a skid, she was back to the night her parents had died.

“Ice storms are killers,” she whispered, mesmerized by the flicker of sparks that shot out from a live wire just fifty feet ahead.

Jordan spared her one quick glance before he jerked the wheel to the right to turn down a different street. “You let God worry about the storm. You just keep praying.”