Now and Always (21 page)

“Thanks — I will.” She winced and blew out short puffs. “Hurts, hurts, hurts!”

Katie turned out the living room lights, sparing a moment to peek out. The world was ice coated. Beautiful, but so treacherous. A horrible night to rush someone to the hospital to give birth. She dismissed the unthinkable. If anyone knew pregnancy, it was Tottie, and if she said the baby was slipping into the birth canal, Katie wasn't going to argue. She
didn't know where babies went prior to birth.

The house quieted quickly. Katie crawled between floral-smelling flannel sheets and stretched for the hot-water bottle. She liked to tease that it was a true lesson in faith when people reached out and their needs were met. Tottie had found a good ministry — hot water. Katie closed her eyes, luxuriating in the moist warmth.

A shutter banged and her eyes flew open.
Ruth.
What had she been saying about a second noise? They hadn't explored the issue because of Meg's sudden discomfort. Had she heard something other than the loose shutter?

Get a grip. The threat is over. All is well
. Normalcy at Candlelight Shelter had been restored. The noise was probably just ice-coated tree limbs creaking from the weight.

But Katie still strained every fiber, alert to imagined or real jeopardy. Wind howled through brittle branches. Sleet slapped windowpanes.

All is well. Go to sleep.

It was after one when she finally dropped into a fitful doze and dreamed of a faceless, shadowed figure who meant to harm her in some way. She struggled through snowdrifts, buffeted by the wind, and always followed by that macabre shadow . . .

An icy hand touched her shoulder, and she bolted upright, screaming.

A tremulous voice jerked her fully awake. “Don't, Katie. It's me.”

Katie fumbled for the bedside lamp, her heart pounding against her chest wall. The sudden glare of light revealed Meg standing beside the bed, her face as white as her robe. Outside, the storm growled, though surely with a decreased intensity.

Katie reached out to the trembling woman. “What is it, Meg? The baby?”

Meg shook her head, appearing to be on the verge of tears. “It's my room. Oh, Katie . . .”

“Your room?” What was in her room that would upset her this way? Katie swung her legs over the edge of the bed, groping for her slippers. She reached for her robe, pulling it close around her shoulders. The blowing wind funneled through every tiny crack in the old farmhouse.

Katie put her arm around Meg. “Don't worry. Whatever it is, we'll fix it.”

“I'm not sure you can.”

Katie didn't pursue the topic. Obviously Meg was having a fitful night. An icy wind whistled around her bare legs. Where was a draft this strong coming from? As soon as she reached Meg's room, she had the answer. Wind and snow poured through a hole in the roof. Pieces of shingles and other debris lay on the floor. Katie put out one hand to touch the doorframe for support. The roof had collapsed. Was the weight of ice and snow that heavy? If so, was the rest of the house in danger?

Janet, Ruth, and Tottie bolted into the room, drawn by the freezing cold and the lash of wind. “Oh my.” Janet clutched her robe to her neck. “How did this happen?”

Tottie swung into action. “Get towels and blankets. We'll sop up the worse of it. I'll get the broom and the kitchen trash-can and start cleaning up the mess. Watch out for nails and splinters. We don't want anyone getting hurt.”

“I'm going to put on something warmer, and then I'll be back,” Ruth said. “No point in all of us getting sick.”

Katie nodded. “Good idea. Let's all put on warm clothing and shoes. This mess isn't going anywhere. It will be here when we get back.”

It wasn't like anyone was going to sleep after this.

Katie hurried to her room to pull on jeans and a warm sweatshirt. While she was tying her shoes, she heard the furnace kick on. Well, of course. With the storm turning Meg's bedroom into a winter wonderland, the mechanical device would kick in. She added the cost of propane to roof repairs.

And where was she supposed to come up with all the money? Warren's budget didn't grant any leeway for a collapsed roof and a drained propane tank.

When Katie reached Meg's room, the others were already busy. Tottie was down on her hands and knees mopping icy water. “I turned the thermostat down as much as I could, and if we close the door and put a blanket across the bottom, maybe we can keep most of the cold in this room.”

Katie nodded. “I'll get a blanket.”

Tottie and Ruth picked up pieces of shingles and dumped them in the large kitchen trashcan. Janet stripped the sodden linens from the bed and bundled them in a soggy lump to take to the utility room. Katie sighed. Add the cost of a new mattress to the list, and she'd probably have to replace the carpet.

The storm seemed to have abated, or at least the wind was dying down. Katie paused to listen. It had shifted directions. Maybe the front had blown itself out. The horses. Had the barn withstood the brunt of the storm? The roof was high pitched. Had ice accumulated there the way it must have on the house roof? She needed to check.

Ruth brought the wastebasket from Meg's bathroom, dumping the litter into the larger trashcan. She and Janet wrung out soggy towels, using the wastebasket to catch the water. Katie swept up a dustpan full of snow, praying the worst was over.

Her gaze zeroed in on Meg, standing hunched over, holding her stomach. “You okay?”

The young woman shook her head. “No. Something's wrong.”

“What do you mean
something's
wrong?”
Everything
was wrong! “What is it, Meg? You look like you're about to faint.”

Meg's body arched, her jaws clenched, and it was obvious she was fighting pain. “Oh, Katie, I'm sorry to be so much trouble, but so help me, I think the baby's coming.”

“Ben? Katie. I need your help.” Funny how this time there'd been no choice on who she called. Logically, she should have called Warren to assist them into town. He was closer, and right now time mattered. But after their evening alone, she wasn't sure she wanted him in a crisis. Especially a woman's crisis. He wouldn't be happy being called out of a warm bed in the midst of a blizzard to transport an unwed mother in premature labor to the hospital.

“I'm on my way.”

Katie hung up, trying to wiggle feeling back into her feet.

Tottie had put Meg on the sofa, and she was timing her contractions. They stalled at seven minutes apart.

Meg latched onto Katie's hand. “I'm scared. Will the baby be okay . . . it's way too early, right?”

Yes, way too early. That much Katie knew. But if they could get Meg to the hospital, the doctor might be able stop the labor and give the baby a few more weeks to develop.

“You'll be fine, Meg. God's on the job.”

“He won't worry about me.” She grasped her stomach and moaned. “I've never done anything but rebel against him.”

“Well, now that's the nice thing about God. When he sent his only Son to die on the cross for my sins — and your sins, he didn't exclude anyone from his grace. Whosoever will come.” Katie brushed hair away from the frightened girl's forehead. “If God carried a grudge, or put limitations on what he'd done on the cross, we'd all be in trouble.”

Meg's hand tightened in hers. “Come with me to the hospital? I don't think I can do this alone.”

“Of course. I'll be with you every step of the way.”

Groaning, Meg rolled to her side, and Katie got up to look out of the window. Snow flew in furious bursts. She could barely see the outline of the barn roof. She couldn't check for ice, but Tottie would when Meg was on her way to the hospital.

Ben. How would he get here? The squad cars were big and heavy, but nothing much
moved in this sort of weather.

Half an hour past. Forty-five minutes. Meg's contractions dropped to five minutes apart. This baby wanted to be born, though Katie couldn't imagine the world she'd be thrust into. Her father was a batterer who beat the child's mother senseless. Her mother was a young girl barely old enough to comprehend the facts of life, now in charge of another innocent life. What chance did this child have to survive all that the world could throw his way? What chance without the knowledge that God had a plan for his life and that he was a living, breathing, worthy soul sent for a purpose?

But for what purpose?

And who would be there to guide, teach, and love this baby as she grew into adulthood?

Could Meg, a child herself, begin to fill that role, or would circumstances and a string of bad choices defeat her before the process even began?

Please, God, help Ben get here.

Katie could picture him racing through the night, slipping, sliding, and risking his life on icy rural roads to meet a need. Her need.

A thought hit her. He hadn't even
asked
why she needed him.

He was accustomed to being at the public's beck and call.

That was it. He was accustomed to being awakened from a sound sleep by hysterical women.

The small hand on the clock edged closer to two a.m. Still no headlights appeared in the drive. Meg's pains were closer, three and half minutes apart. The young girl lay for awhile, and then got up to pace. The house was cold and miserable. Ruth, Tottie, and Janet, wrapped in wool blankets, took turns looking out the window.

Twenty-Two

Finally car lights flashed at the end of the drive. Katie grabbed her coat and raced to the back door. The sleet had frozen the screen shut. She banged her way free and braved the howling wind.

Her feet slipped and she went down. Grunting, she grabbed hold of a nearby stump and pulled up, losing her footing a second time and slicing her hand in the process. Fresh blood mingled with newly fallen snow.

She found a tissue in her pocket and wrapped it around the cut, then ran on.

When she reached the hill, Ben was at the bottom, kneeling at the back bumper.

“Where's the sedan?”

“It wouldn't make it on these roads. I borrowed Bill's pickup.”

“Can you make it up the hill?” she shouted over the relentless storm.

“Can't — barely made it this far. The back wheels are stuck.”

He slid back behind the wheel and revved the engine as he rocked the vehicle back and forth. On the third attempt, the wheels released from the heavy ice pack. Ben waved. “What's going on?”

“Meg's in premature labor! Can you get her to the hospital?”

He shook his head, then after a moment said, “It's rough going, but if I stick to the main road, I can get her there.”

The main road would be the long way, but Katie didn't want to deliver the child here. “I'll get her!” She whirled and made her way back up the incline, slipping and sliding.

How will I get Meg down the hill without her falling? Dear
God, I need mercy! If you' ll help me and Ben get her to the hospital
safely, I' ll never think a bad thought about Ben ever again.

Tottie and Janet had the waiting Meg ready. She was bundled and padded so tightly that if she did fall she'd just roll without injury. Ruth, dressed in coat and boots, was ready to help. Katie took Meg's hand. “Ready?”

“As ready as I'll ever be.” Her voice trembled like a leaf in a hurricane.

“Hang in there.” A burst of snow blinded them when they maneuvered her out the back door. No one could hear above the shrieking wind. Katie took Meg's left side and Ruth her right side. The women started inching the mother-to-be down the incline. The whole world had turned into an ice skating rink. Boots slipped. Heavy tread shoes couldn't find traction. Ben climbed to meet them. Meg almost went down. Pausing, the sheriff scooped the bundled woman up in his arms and carried her the remaining distance.

Warm air rushed from the heater as Katie climbed into the front seat of the big GMC. Ben grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Meg, taking a moment to say something to her. Katie couldn't hear the comment, but whatever he'd said seemed to calm her.

He slid behind the wheel and turned around in the middle of the drive. Then the three were off. Meg lay across Katie's lap, moaning. The pains were close now, dangerously close. Katie, pressed to Ben's side, whispered, “Do you know how to deliver a baby?”

Meg moaned.

“I've delivered my share.”

“Thank goodness.” She leaned back, breathing easier. Meg would be safe, barring complications.

The truck took a mean slide, but Ben managed the wheel and brought it around without incident. There were two hospitals in the area, Campbell County Memorial in Gillette or one in Sundance with a sixteen-bed unit. At this rate, they'd never make it to either one.

Little Bush's city limits came into sight, and Ben announced, “I'm calling Doctor Meadows.”

Katie nodded. Doctor Meadows ran the local clinic and gave Meg her monthly checkups. The facility wouldn't have the needed equipment to treat a preemie, but the infant could be transported by air when the storm abated. Ben got on the CB and barked orders to a dispatcher to have the doctor at the clinic when they arrived at, he estimated, 2:45 a.m.