Page 3 of Mine to Keep

“Don’t push,” the man said as he opened the door.

More honking echoed in her ears.

People shouted for her to move out of the way, but all she could think about was how much pressure she felt and that this baby was coming now, whether she wanted it to or not.

The man put his cell to his ear. “This is firefighter Jamison Kirby. I need an ambulance at the corner of Wilton and Sea Side. I’ve got a woman, early thirties, in labor.”

“It’s too soon,” she managed.

“How far along are you?”

“Thirty-four weeks,” she managed between pants, trying desperately not to push as the contraction subsided.

“She’s six weeks early, so we might need a NICU transport,” he said in a calm voice. Too calm. He was so even-tempered she wanted to kick him. “I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far,” he continued. He reached in front of her and set the cell on the dash. “I need to get you in the back seat.”

She nodded.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Brynleigh, but everyone calls me Bryn.” She had no idea why she went through that lengthy explanation when this was only the second time she’d even said that name aloud.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Jamison,” he said. “I’m a local firefighter, and this isn’t the first time I’ve delivered a baby.”

“I’m not having—oh, shit.” She fell into the back seat and found there was no controlling her urge to push.

He tore off his shirt. “I know this is hard, but you can’t be doing that yet.” He lifted her shirt and rolled down her maternity slacks before placing his T-shirt over her belly.

“I can’t stop,” she managed as she gritted her teeth.

“I can see that. I can also see your baby’s head.”

Panic squeezed her heart. “I can’t do this on the side of the road.”

“That’s good because you’re not on the side, your smack dab in the middle of it. And it’s happening right now whether you like it or not, so I’m going to need you to listen to me and do what I say.” He caught her gaze. “Bryn. Give me a big push with your next contraction. Okay?”

Hot tears burned a path down her cheeks. She’d known that starting over would be hard. And while she wasn’t technically on the run, if she hadn’t disappeared, she never would have gotten out from under her late husband’s family’s thumb.

But she’d never expected to be giving birth, six weeks early, with a stranger delivering, in the middle of town with people standing around and watching, pointing their fingers, holding their cell phones up, snapping pictures for their social media posts. That could destroy everything she’d worked so hard to protect.

However, she couldn’t be concerned with any of that now as pain like she’d never experienced before took over her mind and body. She bore down and did her best not to scream a million obscenities.

“That’s it, Bryn. Keep pushing. You’ve got this.”

She wanted to tell the handsome firefighter to fuck off. But she didn’t have the ability to do anything but push.

And push.

“I need you to stop pushing. Now.”

The uncontrollable urge had been like nothing she’d ever experienced. Had he not tapped on her window earlier, she probably would have been giving birth right through the seam of her pants.

“I can’t.” She reached between her legs and felt what she thought might be the baby’s head.

He pushed her hand away. “Whatever you do. Don’t push. Not until I tell you.” Jamison took something from his pocket. His arm jerked in a swift motion. “Okay. I need one last push. Now. Bryn. Push now.”

She did as he requested and felt her baby leave her body. She exhaled and tried to sit up. “What are you doing?” She stared in horror as Jamison placed the baby on his lap and covered the baby’s mouth with his before aligning his fingers with the center of the baby’s chest and pushing up and down methodically.

He repeated this action.

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