Riding the storm - By Julie Miller Page 0,11
it’s raining.”
“It’s warm enough. Go get wet.”
A chorus of “woo-hoo’s” and various dibs were punctuated by the slamming of a door. Lily’s home echoed with an ominous silence.
Jolene frowned at what that silence meant. “Are you there by yourself?”
“Just me and the boys.” Lily’s oldest was only going into the third grade. Not much help there. “Rocky got out through a downed fence, so I sent Deacon to retrieve him in case the storm blows this way.”
The Brownings’ live-in ranch hand had a hard enough time corraling their stubborn Santa Gertrudis bull when the weather was nice. Rocky had no concept of the phrase, when the cows come home, and seemed to think fences and ropes and rules were for inferior beings like heifers and cowboys. Add rain, mud and a possible hurricane to complicate things, and Rocky would probably keep Deacon away from the house for the rest of the day.
Jolene turned around, trying to get her father’s attention. But he was pointing to a county map on the wall and had his back to her.
“How far apart are your contractions?” she asked, drumming her fingers against the glass window. Adrenaline poured into her veins, charging her body with a restless energy.
“I’m not sure. Fifteen minutes, maybe.”
Jolene hadn’t gotten her father’s attention, but she was suddenly aware of someone else’s probing stare focused on her. Her breath caught in her chest as she met Nate Kellison’s golden brown gaze. His expression could be curiosity, could be concern. Could be contempt, for all she knew. Whatever it was, he seemed to look straight beyond any physical barriers and read what was in her mind and heart.
Her cheeks and other parts of her anatomy suffused with a heat that wasn’t entirely due to self-conscious awareness. Her response was completely unexpected and too damn distracting to deal with at the moment. Needing to concentrate, Jolene quickly turned and showed him her backside.
“Do you have a watch, Lily?” Jolene fought to stay focused on the call. “You need to be sure.”
Hell. If she could read a man’s moods, maybe she’d have found one of her own and fallen in love by now instead of ruling southeast Texas as every man’s best buddy or kid sister. Joaquin didn’t count. She’d been able to read her husband like a book. Of course, there’d never been any real passion between them to muddy up her perception, either.
Not that she was feeling passion toward Nate Kellison. No, sir. That tingling sense of hyper-awareness could be attributed to any number of things.
Like annoyance. Irritation.
Fascination. He was wounded, after all.
Oh, hell.
Fortunately, her personal life wasn’t the issue right now. Ignoring the sensation of whiskey-brown eyes searing holes into her back, she went through the mental checklist of questions she should ask in this type of emergency. “Did your water break?”
“No. But after three kids, I know a contraction when I feel one.” Lily exhaled a deep, stuttering breath. For the first time, Jolene heard the hint of fear in her friend’s voice. “The baby’s coming early. And I think she’s coming fast.”
Jolene checked her watch. Eight-fifteen. The Rock-a-Bye Ranch was a good twenty to thirty minute drive from town. “What do you mean by fast? You know that labors tend to be shorter with successive pregnancies.”
“I guess I mean unexpected. This hit me all of the sudden this morning while I was fixing breakfast. Just before the rain started. With the boys, I had a real urge to cook and clean two or three days before they were born. But not this time. I haven’t got a single casserole in the freezer, and this place is a mess.” Lily tried to sound hopeful, while Jolene’s concern mounted. “That means she’s a girl, right?”
Because the nesting instinct hadn’t kicked in yet? “Um, I can’t tell you that, Lily. What about the radio? Can you call Deacon back to the house to drive you in?”
“That old coot? Deacon keeps the radio turned off because he says it spooks his horse. Unless he calls in again, I won’t hear—”
A low-pitched moan. Another contraction. Jolene checked her watch and her notes and heaved a worried sigh. “Ho, boy.”
Lily’s fifteen minutes plus the five they’d been talking made her contractions just twenty minutes apart.
“This just feels different, Jolene.” Lily was practicing her Lamaze breathing again. “You know how badly Gabe and I want a girl. We’d be happy with another boy, too. I just want him or her to be healthy. But to be