Prelude: Prequel to The Lewis Legacy Series (28 page)

“No, but you should know I’ve never thrown spitballs at any other boy. You were the chosen victim.”

“I’m not a victim now. I’m incredibly blessed.” Unable to resist this woman, Sam moved his hands around Sarah’s waist and tugged her close.

She wound her arms around him again, fingering the wet hair on the back of his neck. “I love you, Sam Lewis.”

“I love you more than you know, Sarah, and I have a confession.”

Her gaze moved upward as she pushed damp hair from his forehead. “What’s that?”

“You are my first love. My only love.” Moving his hands to her face, he caressed her cheeks with his thumbs, drinking in her features, memorizing them, knowing he’d carry her in his heart forever. “You are the only woman I want to hold in my arms until eternity comes in view.”

“Captain,” she whispered, lifting her lips to his. “The things you say. Kiss me again, please.”

“It’s my great honor.”

Loving the gleam in her eyes, Sam lowered his head. As he settled into the kiss, he knew something else. He’d be walking her home very soon. He was only a man, after all, and so very human.

Chapter 32
♥

Saturday Morning, June 16, 1962

The phone rang again for the third time in two minutes, so it must be important. Thoughts of her parents immediately popped into Sarah’s mind. What if her father had suffered a second heart attack while he was away from home? The day before Father’s Day, no less. That thought sent another pang through her entire body.

Lord, let them be safe.

She was the one who always told her mother and sister to think positively, so she needed to follow her own advice.

Dad’s fine. He has to be.

“Do you want me to get the phone?” Sam called from where he was painting the side wall of the kitchen.

“No, I’ll get it. Thanks.” After wiping her hands on a nearby rag as the phone continued to ring, Sarah lifted the olive green receiver from the wall. She made a mental note to order a new phone in a neutral, non-ugly color.

“Jordan residence. This is Sarah.”

“Sarah, this is Danny Marcum.” Sarah could hear him panting between words. “Jewell’s in labor.”

“That’s wonderful! Thank you for letting me know. We’ll be praying—”

“I can’t get hold of Doc Meriweather, and Jewell’s contractions are coming fast and furious now. Doc Hastings won’t be here until next week, so I was hoping you could come and help us.”

Where could Doc be? Fear coursed through Sarah and she hoped he wasn’t off on a bender somewhere. No time to find him now. This being Jewell’s third child, the baby could come quickly. From what she knew, her other two pregnancies had been routine and resulted in easy, natural deliveries. Sarah prayed that’d be the case this third time around.

“How far apart are the contractions?” She chewed her thumbnail.

“Five or six minutes apart, best as I can tell. I don’t want to take the chance of drivin’ her over to the hospital in Springhaven. That’d take time I don’t think she’s got. Jewell’s scared. We both are. I don’t know who else to ask, and we figured since you’re planning to go to nursing school, you might know what to do. Please, Sarah. I’m begging you.”

“Of course, Danny.” She struggled to stay calm and not sound equally desperate. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. Jewell’s pregnancy has been smooth with no complications, right?”

“Yeah, and she’s full-term.” She heard the relief in Danny’s voice. “Doc Meriweather said the baby’s in the right position. Least that’s what he said when we saw him last week.”

“All very good signs,” Sarah said. “Okay, Danny. Sit tight, okay? I’m on my way.” She frowned as she hung up the phone. Sit tight? What a ridiculous thing to say. As if they’d be out touring the countryside.

Concern etched Sam’s features. “What’s up?” He put his paint roller in the drip pan and replaced the lid on the can of yellow paint on the floor beside him.

“Jewell Marcum is about to give birth. Doc’s not around and Danny’s asked for my help. Can you drive me over to their house?”

“Sure, but shouldn’t we change our clothes first?”

At first, his words didn’t compute. “What?”

Sam gestured to his paint-splattered shorts and T-shirt. “Fresh paint. Turpentine. Strong fumes.”

“You’re probably right. We should both change.” She eyed him up and down. “Let me grab some of Dad’s things for you.”

He raised a skeptical brow. “No offense, but your dad’s clothes would swim on me. I’ll run home and be back to get you in five minutes. Promise,” he called to her over one shoulder as he rushed through the living room. The screen door banged behind him.

After telling Tess, Charlie and the others working in the living room what was happening and asking them to pray, Sarah flew into the bedroom. She tugged her shirt over her head in one swift motion and kicked off her shoes. Unzipping her jeans, she wiggled out of them and left them with the shirt in a heap on the floor. She ran to the dresser and pulled out a pair of khaki shorts and a clean pink T-shirt. After retying the laces on her tennis shoes, she tucked her house key into her pocket and ran through the house and out the front door. Behind her, Sarah heard Tess call to her that they’d be praying.

Lord, it’s you and me. I need you beside me. Please guide me every step of the way.

♥

True to his word, Sam pulled the truck in front of the house within a few seconds of her darting outside. “Do you know what to do?”

She hopped inside the truck and slammed the door as he drove away from the curb. “Haven’t a clue,” she muttered. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I was only asking a question.”

Sarah frowned. Why was she being snippy with him? “Sorry. I don’t mean to be sarcastic.” She chewed on her thumbnail again. “Where’s Volvo today? Not up for company?”

“Volvo’s in the garage. It was easier to bring the truck since Dad doesn’t need it today.” Sarah felt his gaze on her but avoided looking at him. “You ask me, I think your sarcasm is your defense mechanism.”

“Is that right?” She leaned against the passenger door, crossed her arms and stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or throw something. Unfortunately, she had nothing at her ready disposal to use as a projectile. Joseph Lewis always kept the truck in immaculate condition, which was to his credit.

“If you can get over yourself for a few hours,” she said, “the simple fact of the matter is that Danny called me, and—with God’s help—I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure this baby is delivered healthy.”

With a nod, appearing more serious, Sam gunned the truck around the corner onto Main Street.

“Slow down,” she cautioned. “You don’t want to get a ticket in front of the bank. Being pulled over in front of your place of business? That’d be real smart.”

“Emergency situations sometimes call for it. Tommy would cut me a break.”

She sank farther down into the seat. “So you’re not above bribing the law? Good to know, I have to say.”

“No. More like Tommy’s a good guy. He’d do the same for anyone speeding to the aid of a woman in the throes of labor.” His brow creased. “That’s what it’s called, right? The throes of—”

“Yes, that’s what it’s called.” She suppressed a grin.

“God sure knew what He was doing in terms of women being the child-bearers.”

“I agree,” she said. “Contrary to what some believe, I don’t think it’s a curse. It’s an honor and privilege. For one thing, God certainly knew men couldn’t handle the pain.”

He chuckled. “How many children do you want?”

“I have you, so my quota’s currently full, thank you.”

Sam’s laugh was hearty. “I guess I deserved that one.” He reached for her hand, and she immediately gave it to him. Sarah’s pulse raced, wondering what she’d find when they reached Jewell. Shouldn’t be long now.

Glancing out the front window, Sarah’s eyes widened in horror as she spied a red ball rolling into the street. Usually a running child followed a rolling ball. “Sam,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. From the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of blue on the right and fast approaching the street.

“Sam! Stop!” Sarah waved her hand to the front window as the ball rolled in front of the truck. Her heart pounded so hard she felt the blood rush to her head.

Slamming on the brakes, Sam threw his arm across her, preventing her from flying forward. At the same time, Sarah put her foot on the dashboard and pushed against the force. A second later, slumped back against the seat, she breathed heavily. Dazed, she watched as Jeff Arnold’s dad yelled for his son to stay put and darted into the street to retrieve the ball.

“Sorry about that, Captain Lewis! Thanks for stopping,” he called as he ran back to the sidewalk and grabbed hold of his young son’s hand.

“Don’t mention it.” Sam blew out a sigh and turned to her. “Are you okay?”

“I will be.” She was still shaking. “Thanks for protecting me. Again. I might have gone. . .” No need to state the obvious. Especially with Sam, he knew firsthand the potential dangers and consequences. Without Sam’s strength and quick move to protect her, she could have flown through the front windshield.

“You were right to tell me to slow down, and I should have listened.” Crossing his arms on the steering wheel, Sam lowered his head. “Seems God had the same thought.”

She put her hand on his upper arm, giving him a light squeeze. “You had no way of knowing that would happen. Jeff’s okay, and that’s the main thing. Hopefully, he’ll learn a valuable lesson.”

“Let’s hope so.” Someone honked from the vehicle behind them. With a frown, Sam lifted his head and straightened in the seat before continuing down the street at a snail’s pace. The muscles in his jaw flexed when the person behind them honked again. “Did that numbskull not see what could have happened back there? Good thing for him I don’t recognize him.”

Sam didn’t know everyone in town since he’d been gone so many years. Sarah refrained from glancing out the back window. Better that way in case she knew the numbskull. She preferred to think the best of people until they proved otherwise.

Leaning her elbow on the open window ledge, she stared at the passing houses and the residents of Rockbridge working in their yards. The day was warm and beads of perspiration dotted her forehead that had as much to do with nerves as the actual temperature. As Sam drove them toward the outskirts of town where Jewell and Danny lived, Sarah told Sam about Doc Meriweather’s disappearing act. From the tightness of his jaw, Sam must suspect the same thing she did: Doc had gone off on a drinking binge.

Sam fisted his hand on the steering wheel. “The man’s a licensed practitioner of medicine. If he wasn’t already retiring, I’d bring him up on charges.”

Sarah put her hand on his arm again as he turned onto the street where the Marcums lived. “I feel the same way, but our anger at Doc isn’t going to help us right now. We’ve already had one wake-up call today. I think we should pray, okay?”

“You’re right.” Although he still sounded disgruntled, Sam reached for her hand as soon as he pulled to the curb in front of the Marcum house. She held on tight and said a quick prayer.

“Amen. Let’s go.” Not waiting on formality, Sarah threw open the door and slid down from the truck.

“You couldn’t wait five seconds?” Sam called after her.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t have time to deal with the man’s ego. “I appreciate your gentlemanly ways under normal circumstances,” she said over her shoulder, “but time could be of the essence here. You’ll get over it.” Running to the front door, she knocked lightly. She elevated her voice and spoke through the screen door. “Danny! It’s me, Sarah. Sam’s with me.”

“Come on in. We’re in the bedroom!” Danny called to her. “First room on the left.”

Entering the house, following Danny’s direction, Sarah prayed their two small children weren’t in the house. “Where are Nell and Scott?”

“With my mom in Houston,” Jewell rasped as she entered the bedroom. “She came and got the kids last week.” Sweat dotted the expectant mother’s face and she was flushed. Danny sat on the bed beside her, holding his wife’s hand. Jewell gave her a wan smile. “My water broke and the contractions are four minutes apart now.” Her gaze moved to Sam standing in the doorway.

“Sam’s here to help, if that’s okay.”

“Fine.” Rising from the bed, Danny offered his hand to Sam. “Did you learn how to birth babies overseas, Captain Lewis?”

Sam cracked a small smile. “Can’t say that I did. This is a first, but Sarah will take good care of you. She’s in charge.” To Sarah’s surprise, his cheeks flushed. “I’ll, um, step out in the hall. Let me know what you need.”

Jewell’s face contorted and she grunted. “I think I’m gonna need to push soon.”

“Danny, I’ll need a few clean towels,” Sarah said, setting the process in motion. “We’ll also need scissors and some type of cording. You’ll need to sterilize them first.”

The poor guy looked petrified. “How do you reckon I do that?”

“We’ll boil them in hot water for a few minutes.” Sam put one hand on Danny’s shoulder and guided him from the room. “Let’s get a pot of water on the stove and then go find those things.”

“I’ll only be gone a couple of minutes,” Danny said to Jewell before following Sam into the hallway.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Just do what Sarah says.”

“I need to scrub my hands and arms.” Sarah glanced around the bedroom. “Where’s the nearest bathroom?”

“Over there.” Jewell angled her head to the right. “It’s our private bath.”

“Great. Be right back.” Turning on the warm water, quietly singing “Trust and Obey” all the while, Sarah lathered the soap, taking extra care to scrub in between her fingers and beneath the fingernails. Finished, she air dried her hands, wringing them as she walked back into the bedroom.

“I heard you singing in there,” Jewell said. “It was comforting.”

Sarah rearranged the pillows and settled Jewell on them. “Sam would disagree, but thank you.”

“He’s a good man.” Jewell shifted her position on the bed and grimaced. “Another contraction,” she managed between breaths.

Sarah helped her breathe through it and then grabbed a damp, cool washcloth from a bowl on the nightstand, pressing it on the other woman’s brow. “You’re doing great. Take a few more deep breaths.”