Kiss Me in the Summer - Barbara Dunlop Page 0,25

consider another offer if the buyer didn’t close early. Our client was a young family struggling to get their financing in order, and they were afraid the deal would collapse.

I’d learned there was a significant shortage of houses in Rutter’s Point. As soon as something went on the market, buyers lined up to bid above asking price. So if the financing didn’t get settled, the family would be stuck without a home.

“Laila?” Becky called from the other office. There was concern in her voice.

We must have hit another legal predicament. That was fine with me. I liked it when things got hectic. Plus, the more important legal work I had on my plate, the less time I could spend helping at the festival, and the less danger there was of me running into a dog or two or three.

“On my way,” I called back, feeling unexpectedly fulfilled as I headed for her office.

There was no denying the thrill of juggling legal emergencies for multi-million-dollar corporations like I did at Laatz Wallingsford. But small-town law had its appeal too. There was also something satisfying about helping a young family get into their very first home. I was expecting a call from the bank manager any minute now, and there was no reason to expect it wouldn’t be good news.

I cut through the reception area.

“Samuel Briggs said he’d call us back by ten—” I froze in Becky’s doorway. She had a hand on her stomach. Her eyes were wide and alarmed, and she seemed to be in pain.

I rushed around her desk, coming down on one knee at her chair. “What is it, Becky? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know . . .” She gasped. “Something . . .”

“Do you need an ambulance?” I asked even as I grappled for the desk phone.

“No, you can’t—”

But I was already dialing 911.

“Operator, what is your emergency?”

Becky sucked in a breath. “Laila, you can’t—”

“I’m at Rowin and Associates law office,” I said. “There’s a pregnant woman who needs—”

“Becky?” the operator asked.

Of course she knew Becky. This was Rutter’s Point.

“Yes,” I said. “Can you send an ambulance?”

“Laila,” Becky repeated, still gasping.

“The nearest ambulance is forty-five minutes away,” the operators said. “Is she awake? Is she talking?”

“Yes, yes.” I nodded, even though the operator couldn’t see me.

Becky grabbed my hand. “Call Ben.”

“Any bleeding?” the operator asked.

“No.” I looked at Becky and reflexively nodded again.

“Can you drive her to the medical center?” the operator continued.

“I don’t have a car, but I’m going to call her husband.”

“Good idea,” the operator said. “Call me back if I can help.”

“I will.”

“My head really hurts,” Becky said and closed her eyes.

I didn’t have Ben’s number in my phone, but I did have Josh’s. I called it.

“Laila?” he answered right away, sounding puzzled.

“It’s Becky,” I said. “Can you get Ben to come? She needs to go to the medical center.”

Josh’s voice went on alert. “What’s happening?”

“She’s in pain. It’s a bit vague, but she’s gone quite pale.”

“I’m on my way.”

“But, Ben—”

“I’ll call him on the way. I’m closer.”

“Okay. Great.” I felt better as I ended the call. I crouched down again and took Becky’s hand. “Josh is coming, and he’s calling Ben.”

Becky didn’t open her eyes. Her complexion was nearly gray and her lips were tight, but she gave me a nod.

“Can I get you anything?” I asked. “Water?”

She squeezed my hand. “No. Just stay here.”

“I will. I’m not going anywhere.”

I heard the front door open.

“Laila?” Josh called out.

“We’re in here,” I answered.

He strode through the door.

“How did you get here so fast?” I asked, grateful that he had.

“I was on a house call down the block.” He put a hand on Becky’s shoulder. “Hey,” he said in a soft voice.

She opened her eyes. “Sorry to bother you, Josh.”

Josh gave her a gentle smile. “No bother. My car’s out front. Is it okay if I lift you?” His eyes took her in from head to toe.

“I’m really heavy.”

Josh chuckled at that, clearly trying to put her at ease. “I don’t think so.”

“This is a really big baby,” she said.

Josh put one arm around her back and slid the other beneath her knees. “I’ve bench-pressed a whole lot more than you and a baby.”

Becky managed a little smile as I stepped back out of the way. I was impressed with Josh’s caring demeanor and his behavior under stress.

“Tell me if anything hurts,” Josh said. He rose slowly and carefully with Becky secure in his arms.

“It’s my head,” she said weakly. “My stomach and . . .