It Happened One Night (37 page)

Lana pushed her hair out of her face. “Are you… okay?” she asked between breaths.

“Me? Yes. Why?”

Her arm shot over her head, searching for the seat belt that had somehow become her lifeline. “Because I’m ready to have this
baby now.”

At the hospital, the receptionist—who wore reading glasses studded with a million tiny beads—had stopped being friendly toward
them. “I told you, Mr. Biel. Your daughter isn’t here. Asking me the same question in three different ways is not going to
change my answer.”

Calvert frowned and Eli stepped away from the high counter, pulling off his hat and angrily scratching his head. The emergency
room was a mess, the snow bringing all sorts of people to the hospital for all sorts of reasons. Frustrated, Eli slunk away
from the receptionist’s desk, toward the waiting area. “I don’t like this.”

“Me neither,” Calvert said.

Eli sat down hard on one of the chairs in the waiting area, planning his next move. He couldn’t just sit here and wait. He
had to take action. Somehow, he had to find Lana. And then he had to tell her that he loved her, that he’d been an idiot,
that he wanted her back, if she’d have him. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “I’m going to take your friend’s truck
and start looking for Karin’s minivan. You’re going to stay here in case they show.”

“You want to take the truck?”

Eli nodded. “I know the roads better. Where did you say they were coming from?”

“Montpelier.”

“And where were they going after?”

“Lana’s.”

Eli pushed his glasses higher up on his face, thinking of which road Karin would have taken to get from Montpelier to her
house. He decided his best shot was to backtrack, to start at her house and then head in the direction of their seminar. Unless
they decided to change their course, he knew the roads they would most likely take. He held his hand out to take Calvert’s
keys. “Good. That gives me at least some idea of where to look. I can guess which roads they’d take.” He went to the nurse’s
station to borrow a pen and paper, and when he returned he’d written his cell phone number down. “Call me the second you hear
anything.”

“You’re a good man. And you’ll be a good father to that baby. I can tell.”

Eli nodded once, then walked through the automatic doors of the hospital and flipped his collar up to block the wind.

“I think… oh, God… this is it.” Lana drew her knees wider and pulled them in a V toward her chest. Her eyes were bright with
terror.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Karin said quickly. “Lana. You
have
to calm down. Take a deep breath with me. Take a deep breath.” Karin took a deep, full breath, Lana’s eyes locked on hers.

Then, Karin stopped breathing. Time pressed to a halt. The heaters blared, the falling ice scratched at the hood of the van,
and instantly, all the worry, all the fear that she would botch things up, left her mind. Karin felt her own knowledge of
what to do as if it had been sitting there and waiting centuries for her. Technology had changed, but this, this process—so
elemental and innate—never had. “Only push if there’s a contraction.”

“There is!” Lana pressed hard and strong. A blue vein swelled in her forehead; her lips were drawn back wide and tight. When
the baby’s head emerged, Karin’s instincts took over. She supported the head, cleaned out its mouth and nose as best she could
with her fingers, then checked to make sure the cord wasn’t wrapped around the baby’s neck.

Lana was saying
Kare, Kare, Kare
, her voice wild with panic. Karin kept her voice calm and soothing when she spoke. “It’s okay, Lanie. Listen to me. The baby’s
head is out. You’re doing a great job. Just stay calm. Everything is going to be just fine.”

“I’m too tired,” Lana muttered. “I can’t do any more.”

“Yes, you can,” Karin said. “Just one more push. That’s all we need.”

“Oh, G-o-o-o-o-o-d!”

Lana didn’t have to tell her another contraction had come on. Lana’s face went red as mercury, her features contorted in anguish,
and Karin shifted her focus back to the baby. A moment later, she guided the first shoulder out, then the second, and with
a gush of blood and fluid, a child was in her hands.

A baby. A perfect, vigorous child, its little blue arms flailing and its head moving back and forth in surprise. She quickly
picked up her coat and held its slippery body carefully with the cloth. She kept it level with Lana’s abdomen, with its feet
slightly above its head as she’d read a thousand times. She did her best to clean out the rest of its nose and mouth and she’d
just started to panic that she’d done something wrong when suddenly, the baby made the smallest, sweetest sound she’d ever
heard, a cry so fragile it was almost a mewing. Ice broke off a treetop and hit the roof of the car. She stared in wonder,
transfixed.

“A girl,” she said softly. “It’s a girl.”

She looked up at Lana, whose face had gone slack with the sudden shock of no longer having to push. “Is she okay?”

“I think so…” Karin had to make a decision about whether or not to cut the cord. It was better to let the doctors do it, she
knew. But how long would that be? She waited a moment for the cord to stop pulsing, then she wrapped a strip of gauze around
it and tied it off with one of her shoelaces as tightly as she could. With a deep breath, she cut the cord with sterile scissors
from her emergency kit and then searched her brain frantically for what to do next. She knew she had to keep the baby warm
and that Lana needed to nurse her right away. The silvery shine of the heat blanket in her emergency kit caught her eye, and
she wrapped the baby in it for warmth. Not the most comfortable texture against a newborn’s skin, but it would do the job.

Suddenly, as she was readjusting her weight so she could rise and give the baby to her sister, she realized the emergency
was most likely over. They’d all survived. The branches tapped against the windows, the sleet melted gently in the heat from
the defrosters, and the baby, so small and sweet, was pinkening and squirming mightily in her hands.

“A girl?” Lana said, her voice striking Karin as oddly fragile, given the enormous strength she’d been capable of just moments
ago.

“Yes. Your daughter,” Karin said.

With all the joy in her heart, she placed the baby in her sister’s arms.

Lana lay quietly in the backseat of the minivan, listening to the tinkling of the ice—a sound that only intensified the otherworldly
silence. Karin had gone outside to stand on the roadside and flag down anyone who might help. And now Lana was alone with
her baby, her daughter, for the first time.

She was vaguely aware of her own soreness, the trauma her body had been through, but the pain that had threatened to rip her
in two just minutes ago was now no more relevant than a song playing gently in her mind. She shivered slightly even though
the van was warm, and she guessed her trembling was more from the labor than from the cold. Her baby was now pressed to her
skin for warmth and swaddled in a heat blanket and in Karin’s thick coat. In the back of her mind, Lana worried that she was
okay. She knew that at thirty-five weeks there was a very real chance that the baby’s lungs weren’t strong enough and that
its sucking reflex had yet to kick in. And yet the baby had nursed weakly for a few minutes, then closed her swollen eyes
and lapsed into a deep, intense sleep, her breathing light but even. Lana would feel much better once the doctors could examine
them both. But for the moment, the pain was tolerable and her daughter seemed absolutely… flawless. No cloud forests or wild
orchids could ever compare with this.

She was so glad Karin had been here with her. But she only wished Eli were here too. Eli, Ron, and Calvert. This miracle belonged
to them—to all of them—as well. She brushed her lips against the baby’s forehead and whispered, “You’re going to have more
family than you know what to do with.”

The door to the minivan slid open and though the baby didn’t open her eyes, her face wrinkled at the sound.

“I found help,” Karin said.

And when Lana looked up, Eli was there, his hand braced against the doorframe and his coat falling open as he climbed inside.

“Are you…” His words trailed off as he saw the bundle in her lap. She knew what he was seeing—all the blood, the relative
gore of childbirth in Karin’s car. She’d delivered the placenta not long ago, and Karin had thrown an old rag over it and
moved it out of Lana’s way. Still, Eli must have thought someone had died.

“We’re fine,” she assured him. Her eyes began to tear. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed him to be here. She couldn’t
take her eyes off him. Seeing him made her know everything was going to be okay.

“Eli.” Karin’s voice broke her concentration. “Can I take your cell phone?”

Lana came back to reality. “Is the ambulance…?”

“It’s coming,” Eli said.

Karin reached out and took Eli’s cell. “I just… I talked to Gene to say Merry Christmas this morning, but I just need to tell
him about the baby. If you need me, I’ll be up by the road. I want to make sure the ambulance doesn’t drive past us.” She
looked at Lana for a long moment, a warm smile brightening her face. “Lana, you were amazing.”

“I’m glad you were here,” Lana said.

A moment later, Karin was outside, the door sliding closed behind her. And Lana and Eli were alone. His brown knit hat was
pulled down to his eyebrows and his glasses were flecked with melted ice. The way he was looking at her, Lana thought he’d
never seen her before. She knew he was holding his breath.

“Please, come here,” she whispered.

He leaned closer, unable to look away from the baby. “Oh… Lana.”

She felt tears come to her eyes, to have Eli and her baby both beside her. It seemed so very right, the journey coming to
an end. “It’s a girl,” she said.

“It’s a miracle,” he said.

“Maybe that’s her name,” Lana said. “Winter Miracle Biel.”

Then Eli was laughing—crying too—and he leaned forward and pressed a strong, relieved kiss to her lips. She closed her eyes
for a moment to savor it. When she opened them, he was running the back of his index finger over the baby’s cheek, and her
nose wrinkled a little at his touch. “I was so worried,” he said, his voice full of yearning and relief. “I wanted to do something
to help. But I didn’t know if I could find you. I didn’t know how to help.”

“It’s okay,” Lana said, sensing the panic in his voice.

He picked up her hand and rubbed her ring finger with his thumb. “You didn’t get… engaged.”

“No,” she said. “How could I marry him when I want you?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been such an idiot.”

“
Shhh
. We’ll talk about this later.” She touched his cheek, quieting him. “Do you still love me?”

He nodded, his gaze not leaving hers.

“Then we can get through anything,” she said.

Five Years Later…

T
he fields behind the Wildflower Barn were not yet in full bloom, but thin traces of color were showing on every branch and
shrub, giving the landscape an air of softness though nothing in particular presented a flower of its own. The afternoon was
chilly, and Lana stood outside to keep an eye on Winter, who was walking back and forth along the edge of the meadow—one hand
swinging and the other holding the phone to her ear as she talked to Ron. Like her mother, there was no keeping her inside.

Lana held a photo of bright pink bougainvillea, the color of its petals blaring louder than pealing bells. She sighed wistfully,
remembering. She didn’t hear her husband arrive at her side.

“That again?” Eli asked gently.

She laughed, a little embarrassed to have been caught. She put the photograph down on the little picnic table at her side,
among a handful of other pictures from her travels that she was considering framing. “I can’t stop thinking about it. The
hiking, the kayaking, the rope walk… I had such a wonderful time.”

“We’ll have to take Winter on our next trip.”

“I think if it was legal for her to buy a plane ticket, she’d beat us there.”

He put an arm around her shoulders. They watched Winter walking back and forth among the sprigs pushing up out of the ground,
her long blonde hair trailing all the way down her back. Eli pressed a kiss to Lana’s temple, and she caught the smell of
his skin. She leaned into him, sighing and content.

Three years ago, Eli had proposed the idea of legally adopting Winter as his daughter, and Ron had agreed. Ron loved Winter,
in his way. But Eli was her father, the man she called
Dad
. They shared a close bond, so close that Lana had a hard time deciding which of them looked up to the other more. Eli answered
Winter’s endless questions with a patience that was equally endless. He talked to her like she was part scientist and part
princess. Lana warned him not to spoil her, but in truth, it warmed her heart.

She turned when she heard voices coming from the barn behind her, Gene and Karin walking toward them side by side. They were
both dressed for work, in jeans, sneakers, and light coats. Michael, the newest hire, walked slowly behind them. He wore the
regulation Wildflower Barn polo shirt and jeans, but he still had the air of a young man who wasn’t quite comfortable in his
own clothes. His sandy blond hair had been cut brutally short at his last foster home, and there was a tattoo of a fish on
his neck. He’d been talking recently about having it removed.

“We’re heading over to Calvert’s,” Karin called as she got closer.

Lana laughed and looked at Michael. “How’d
you
get roped into this?”

“Roped?” Gene clasped the boy’s shoulder. “He volunteered. It’s not every day a teenage guy gets to clean out an old man’s
basement with his family.”

“Okay,” Lana said. “We’ll be over later with sandwiches. Call if you think of anything you need in the meantime.”

Gene wrapped an arm around Karin, and Karin smiled. “See you soon.”