This was what he had needed, all he had needed, to settle him. Yet even as the first layer of tension dissolved, a new layer, one built on desire, formed.
“Before too much longer,” he said against her mouth, “we’re going to finish this. I want to make love with you, Laura. And after I do you won’t have the strength to thank me.”
Before she could think of a response, Mrs. Witherby came in with her tea. “Now let the poor thing rest and drink this while it’s hot.” She set the cup on the table in front of Laura. “I hate to drag you out on your wedding day, Mr. Bradley, but the sooner you drive us back to town, the sooner you can get back and fix your wife that nice steak you bought for supper.”
She moved over to gather up her coat. On impulse, Laura drew one of the flowers from the watering can and took it to her. “I’m never going to forget you, Mrs. Witherby.”
“There now.” Touched, she sniffed at the flower. “You just take care of yourself and that baby of yours. Shake a leg, Ethan.”
“I should only be an hour,” Gabe told her. “The roads aren’t too bad. I really think you should rest, Laura. You look exhausted.”
“I’m supposed to look glowing, but I promise I won’t lift anything heavier than a teacup until you get back.”
This time she watched the Jeep drive away, running her finger over and over her wedding ring. It took so little, she thought, to change so much. She bent, trying to ease the ache in her back, then she crossed the room to finish her tea.
Her back had never ached like this, not even after she’d worked a full day on her aunt’s farm. The pain was constant and deep. She tried stretching out, then curling up, then stretching out again. Impatient with herself, she tried to ignore it, concentrating instead on roasting marshmallows and warming tea.
She’d been alone less than ten minutes when the first contraction hit.
It wasn’t the vague warning pain she’d read about. It was sharp and long. Caught off guard, she had no time to breathe her way over it. Instead, she tensed, fought against it, then collapsed against the cushions when it faded.
It couldn’t be labor. Her forehead broke out in sweat as she tried to dismiss the idea. It was too early, a month too early, and it had come on so suddenly. False labor, she assured herself. Brought on by nerves and by the excitement of the day.
But the back pain. Struggling to keep calm, she pushed herself into a sitting position. Was it possible she’d been having back labor all morning?
No, it had to be false labor. It had to be.
But when the second contraction hit she began to time them.
***
She was in bed when Gabe returned, but she couldn’t call out to him, because she was riding out the latest contraction. The fear that had gripped her in a stranglehold for the past hour faded a bit. He was here, and somehow that meant that everything would be all right. She heard him toss a log on the fire, took a last cleansing breath as the pain passed and called out.
The urgency in her voice had him across the room in three strides. At the bedroom door he paused, and his heart jumped into his throat.
She was propped against the pillows, half lying, half sitting. Her face was bathed in sweat. Her eyes, always dark, were sheened with moisture and nearly black.
“I have to go back on our deal,” she managed, struggling with a smile because she saw the same blank fear she felt reflected on his face. “The baby’s decided to come a little early.”
He didn’t ask if she was sure or fumble with reasons why it wasn’t a good idea. He wanted to, but he found himself beside the bed, with her hand gripped in his. “Take it easy. Just hold on and I’ll phone for a doctor.”
“Gabe, the phone’s out.” Nerves skipped in and out of her voice. “I tried it when I realized this was happening so fast.”
“Okay.” Fighting for calm, he brushed the damp hair away from her face. “There was an accident on the way into town. Lines must have gone down. I’ll get some extra blankets and I’ll take you in.”
She pressed her lips together. “Gabe, it’s too late. I couldn’t make the trip.” She tried to swallow, but fear had dried up the moisture in her mouth and throat. “I’ve been in labor for hours, all morning, and I didn’t know it. It was back labor, and I didn’t pay attention. With everything that was going on, I thought it was nerves and the restless night I’d had.”
“Hours,” he murmured, and eased himself down on the edge of the bed. His mind went blank, but then her fingers tightened on his. “How far apart are the pains?”
“Five minutes. I’ve been—” She let her head fall back and began to breathe in short, deep gasps. Gabe slipped his hand over her and felt the hardening of her abdomen.
He’d glanced through the birth and baby books she’d brought with her. To pass the time, he’d told himself, but there had been something deep inside him that had been compelled to understand what she was going through. Perhaps it was instinct that had had him absorbing the advice, the details, the instructions. Now, seeing her in pain, everything he’d read seemed to slip away from him.
When the contraction passed, her face was shiny with fresh sweat. “Getting closer,” she whispered. “There’s not much time.” Though she bit down on her lips, a sob escaped her. “I can’t lose the baby.”
“The baby’s going to be fine, and so are you.” He squeezed her hand once reassuringly. They would need towels, lots of them. String and scissors had to be sterilized. It was really very simple when you thought about it. He only hoped it was as simple when you put it into practice.
“Just hang on. I have to get some things.” He saw the doubt flash in her eyes, and he leaned over her. “I’m not going to leave you. I’m going to take care of you, Laura. Trust me.”