Riding the Storm (4 page)

But this wasn’t going to be as easy as a phone call.

“Gabe isn’t here. He had to go out of town on business. He must have gotten caught in the evac traffic. He was driving back through Dallas to get my mom to come help watch the kids when the baby comes.” A shout for
“Mom!”
and a stampede of little feet crescendoed in the background. A rustling sound muffled Lily’s stern warning.

“Aaron! Quit chasing Seth. If you want to run around, go outside.”

“But it’s raining.”

“It’s warm enough. Go get wet.”

A chorus of
“woo-hoo’s”
and various dibs were punctuated by the slamming of a door. Lily’s home echoed with an ominous silence.

Jolene frowned at what that silence meant. “Are you there by yourself?”

“Just me and the boys.” Lily’s oldest was only going into the third grade. Not much help there. “Rocky got out through a downed fence, so I sent Deacon to retrieve him in case the storm blows this way.”

The Brownings’ live-in ranch hand had a hard enough time corraling their stubborn Santa Gertrudis
bull when the weather was nice. Rocky had no concept of the phrase,
when the cows come home,
and seemed to think fences and ropes and rules were for inferior beings like heifers and cowboys. Add rain, mud and a possible hurricane to complicate things, and Rocky would probably keep Deacon away from the house for the rest of the day.

Jolene turned around, trying to get her father’s attention. But he was pointing to a county map on the wall and had his back to her.

“How far apart are your contractions?” she asked, drumming her fingers against the glass window. Adrenaline poured into her veins, charging her body with a restless energy.

“I’m not sure. Fifteen minutes, maybe.”

Jolene hadn’t gotten her father’s attention, but she was suddenly aware of someone else’s probing stare focused on her. Her breath caught in her chest as she met Nate Kellison’s golden brown gaze. His expression could be curiosity, could be concern. Could be contempt, for all she knew. Whatever it was, he seemed to look straight beyond any physical barriers and read what was in her mind and heart.

Her cheeks and other parts of her anatomy suffused with a heat that wasn’t entirely due to self-conscious awareness. Her response was completely unexpected and too damn distracting to deal with at the moment. Needing to concentrate, Jolene quickly turned and showed him her backside.

“Do you have a watch, Lily?” Jolene fought to stay focused on the call. “You need to be sure.”

Hell. If she could read a man’s moods, maybe she’d
have found one of her own and fallen in love by now instead of ruling southeast Texas as every man’s best buddy or kid sister. Joaquin didn’t count. She’d been able to read her husband like a book. Of course, there’d never been any real passion between them to muddy up her perception, either.

Not that she was feeling passion toward Nate Kellison. No, sir. That tingling sense of hyper-awareness could be attributed to any number of things.

Like annoyance. Irritation.

Fascination. He was wounded, after all.

Oh, hell.

Fortunately, her personal life wasn’t the issue right now. Ignoring the sensation of whiskey-brown eyes searing holes into her back, she went through the mental checklist of questions she should ask in this type of emergency. “Did your water break?”

“No. But after three kids, I know a contraction when I feel one.” Lily exhaled a deep, stuttering breath. For the first time, Jolene heard the hint of fear in her friend’s voice. “The baby’s coming early. And I think she’s coming fast.”

Jolene checked her watch. Eight-fifteen. The Rock-a-Bye Ranch was a good twenty to thirty minute drive from town. “What do you mean by
fast?
You know that labors tend to be shorter with successive pregnancies.”

“I guess I mean unexpected. This hit me all of the sudden this morning while I was fixing breakfast. Just before the rain started. With the boys, I had a real urge to cook and clean two or three days before they were born. But not this time. I haven’t got a single casserole in the freezer, and this place is a mess.” Lily tried to
sound hopeful, while Jolene’s concern mounted. “That means she’s a girl, right?”

Because the nesting instinct hadn’t kicked in yet? “Um, I can’t tell you that, Lily. What about the radio? Can you call Deacon back to the house to drive you in?”

“That old coot? Deacon keeps the radio turned off because he says it spooks his horse. Unless he calls in again, I won’t hear—”

A low-pitched moan. Another contraction. Jolene checked her watch and her notes and heaved a worried sigh. “Ho, boy.”

Lily’s fifteen minutes plus the five they’d been talking made her contractions just twenty minutes apart.

“This just feels different, Jolene.” Lily was practicing her Lamaze breathing again. “You know how badly Gabe and I want a girl. We’d be happy with another boy, too. I just want him or her to be healthy. But to be 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 ear and pointed toward her father, avoiding those eyes that seemed to possess the power to read her silly reaction to his touch. “You’re missing the briefing.”

The slight turn of his head was all the diversion she needed to grab the med kit without answering his question. But their movements were enough to capture her father’s attention as well. Jolene waved the note at him, indicating she’d leave it in the office. Then she turned her back on Nate Kellison and tried to sneak out without disturbing the rest of the meeting.

No such luck.

“Excuse me a minute.” Jolene halted at the sound of her father’s voice following her down the hallway. “Since you picked up a kit, I can guess that you’re not going home?”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” she apologized. To her chagrin, Kellison had followed her to the door as well. Setting her shoulders, she purposely ignored him
standing behind her father. “Lily Browning called. She’s gone into labor, but she’s stranded at the ranch. I’m going to drive out to do what I can to help. If there’s time, I’ll drive her and the boys into town. If not, I’ll deliver the baby there.” She squeezed her father’s arm reassuringly. “It won’t be my first delivery.”

Mitch Kannon nodded, his tone as businesslike as hers had been. “Give me ten minutes to finish this meeting, and I’ll go with you.”

She gestured down the hall. “You can’t leave these people right now. You’ve got four virtual strangers who’ll be lost in a minute without your directions, and a handful of locals who are half-distracted worrying about their own families and homes. They’re looking to you for leadership. You have to stay with the command center.”

“Nice speech,” drawled Mitch. “But I still don’t want you driving that far out into the county by yourself. The weather’s unpredictable right now, and you’re not exactly in the best condition to go gallivanting across the countryside.”

“Dad! My
condition
doesn’t make me stupid.” Jolene didn’t know whether to smile or frown at his flare of old-fashioned chauvinism. Opting for her most indulgent smile, she cradled the curve of her belly. “We’re in perfect health. I’m done with morning sickness and nap attacks. The pregnancy is progressing fine. Nothing’s going to happen to me or Junior just riding in the truck.”

He shook his head. “You and I both know that’s not the problem. With you, it’s never just a
ride in the truck.
”

“Lily’s waiting, Dad.”

“Can I help?” Mr. California wasn’t content just observing her business, he had to butt in.

Bristling at the intrusion, she glanced over her father’s shoulder. “No.”

But Mitch angled himself to include Kellison in the discussion, ignoring her dismissal. “A friend of Jolene’s is stuck out at her ranch. Just went into labor with her fourth baby.”

“Fourth?” Kellison’s eyebrows rose. “The baby could come fast, then. Within a few hours.”

Jolene backed toward the door. “Exactly. I’d better get going.”

Mitch stopped her. “Honey, why don’t you stay and man the phones until Ruth gets here.”

“Dad—”

“I’ll go.” Kellison’s statement was directed at Mitch. “I’ve been trained to deliver babies under a variety of conditions.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “You’ll need Cheryl and Amy here to handle the more serious patients as they come in. Your daughter can stay in the office.”

Of all the annoying, arrogant…
Jolene planted her empty hand on her hip and squared off against the visiting paramedic. “Do you know the way to the Rock-a-Bye Ranch, California?”

“It’s Nate.” He turned to her father. “You got a map?”

“
I
know the way,” she insisted. “We’re wasting time discussing this.”

Oh, no. She could read the decision on her father’s face.

“You’re right about needing the doctor and trauma nurse here,” Mitch said. “You go with her, Kellison.”

“Dad—”

“He’s a trained paramedic.”

“Which is why you need him here,” she argued. “For real emergencies. I can handle this and be back in no time.”

“Listen, young lady. What I need right now is to not worry about you or Lily Browning. Kellison goes with you, or you stay put.”

Father and daughter glared at each other. But the silent battle of wills didn’t last for long. Once Mitch Kannon dug in his heels, he couldn’t be budged. And as much as she loathed the idea of being assigned a baby-sitter while she made a routine call at a friend’s house, Jolene didn’t want to cause her father any additional worry when she knew he had a whole county and hundreds of additional evacuees to protect.

“All right.” Watching the worry ease from her father’s expression made agreeing more tolerable.