Riding the storm - By Julie Miller Page 0,12
honest, I’m a little worried. The timing feels off.”
Off was not good. Alone at the ranch, twenty minutes from the nearest help, was definitely not good.
Jolene started to pace. “Lily, put your boys in the car and come into town. Especially if you think something’s wrong. We’ve got staff on hand at the fire station who can monitor the baby’s progress and help deliver her.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Deacon’s last transmission was from down by the highway. He said the traffic’s already lining up into town, that Sheriff Boone’s out there trying to make sense of things and get the cars moving. What if we get stuck?”
“Take the backroads, then. You know the way.”
“I guess I could do that.”
Jolene’s own stomach constricted in sympathy as Lily caught a sharp breath. “Lily?”
“Don’t worry. That wasn’t a contraction.” A pain that wasn’t a contraction was supposed to reassure her? “Maybe we could get there before the rains make a mess of those old gravel roads.” Lily covered up the phone and hollered, “Boys!”
A sudden image of Lily’s old station wagon, mired axle-deep in the mud, flashed through Jolene’s mind. Gabe had no doubt taken their newer, more reliable vehicle to Dallas to pick up Lily’s mother. Three boys—two, five and eight—buckled into a rattletrap car, their pregnant mother in labor in the front seat. Rains and wind and flooding on the way, maybe even the hurricane itself.
Not good at all.
Decision made, Jolene stopped in her tracks, her resolve as determined as her posture. “On second thought, stay put. I’m coming to you.”
Was that audible sigh one of relief?
Jolene quickly scratched a note for her father. “You sit tight, Lily. Make yourself as comfortable as you can and give the boys something to keep them busy. I’ll grab a med kit and head on out to the Rock-A-Bye right now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Hey. This is what I do. We’re neighbors. We’re friends. I know somethin’ about birthin’ babies and I’m on my way.”
Lily laughed at the dubious reference to Gone with the Wind. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Hey, now don’t you go chasing any cattle yourself, okay?”
“Promise. We’ll sit tight until you get here.”
Jolene hung up the phone, tore off the note and hurried out of the office. With her father in the middle of outlining the county’s layout and evacuation routes, and everyone listening with dutiful attention, Jolene dashed across the back of the room to the supply shelves.
She picked up one of the portable paramedic kits, knowing that between it, the emergency supplies in her truck, and whatever the Brownings had on hand at the house, she’d have everything she’d need to deliver Lily’s baby if there wasn’t enough time to get her friend back into town. She silently snapped her fingers in a moment of inspiration and hurried over to the wall of cabinets.
She opened the first one and scanned the contents. Nope. Moving on to the next cabinet, she spotted the goodies she’d stashed away. She set the med kit on the counter and stretched up on tiptoe to grasp the prize she was looking for. A bag of chocolate candy left over from Easter. She might snitch one to satisfy her own cravings, but she could use them as a reward for the Browning boys in case she had to take care of them as well as Lily.
Jolene jumped in her boots as she closed the cabinet door and a broad set of blue-clad shoulders came into view.
“Problem?”
Pressing her hand to her chest to soothe the startled leap in her heart rate, Jolene looked up past the jut of Nate Kellison’s chin and straight into those omniscient brown eyes. “Nothing that concerns you, California.”
“Nate.”
“Right.” She tucked the bag of candy into the pocket of her overalls and reached for the handle of the med kit.
Before she could leave, his hand settled over hers, pushing the kit back onto the counter. “You’re not going out on a call, are you?”
His grip was firm, warm—and sent a crazy little frisson of electricity up her arm. His succinct query rolled across her eardrums in a deep-pitched whisper. Dormant emotions awakened inside her at the surprising intimacies of sound and touch, emotions that were all too vulnerable and uniquely feminine. Emotions she quickly shut down by breaking the connection. She slid her hand from beneath his, willing the tingling sensation of his callused fingertips brushing across her skin to dissipate.
In one practiced, self-conscious motion, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her