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  “You’re lying.” My senses spiraled to white hot anger. My chest heaved rapidly. The babies went still as my blood pressure rose.

  “It’s true.” He lifted his head but did not meet my eyes. He sat silent for a few moments.

  I refused to believe him. I was worthless, expendable and disregarded by him most of my life. I wanted Scott to appear. I wanted my life back, the one where I’d been healed of my father’s rejection. This was too much.

  “She’s,”—his desperate gaze locked with mine—“dying.”

  A more intense pain gripped my lower back and abdomen. My priorities jumped front and center. I should have been counting the minutes since the last pain. I’d never abandon my children, and this pitiable little man would not rob them of their life.

  “Look, I got a quarter of a million, which is tied up in a college scholarship and a missionary retreat. There isn’t enough to help you. Now take me to the hospital. At this point you’ve kidnapped me. Save yourself from murder charges, which is what it will be if we don’t make it.” I tried to stand, but the contraction overtook me.

  “Not to help me. For Brenna.”

  I threw my head back and wailed with intense pain. My breathing exercises from class were no match against the pain and panic. I opened my eyes.

  He stood, wringing his hands.

  “These babies are your grandchildren, doesn’t that matter?”

  A short, hoarse yelp escaped his lips. He dropped to his knees. He mumbled and shook his head, eyes wild. “More to fail, more to ruin, all my fault. No, no, no, no.” He mumbled more, becoming incoherent.

  I’d never seen anyone lose their mind, but I was certain Brown was losing his. I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly. If I didn’t do something quick to calm him, I’d be delivering alone, with a blabbering psychopath present. “I bet I can get you what you need. Sure, Gran left me some money in investments. I’ll get it for you. Just get me to the hospital and I’ll give it all to you, Daddy.” Again I was begging him for something he wouldn’t give me. He wouldn’t give love to me as a child, and now he refused to give me my life, and my babies’.

  “Now who’s lying?” He whispered. He stood to his feet, leaning over me.

  “No, I’ll get you the money. As much as you need. I will. Please. Just take me to the hospital. I’ll do all I can to help Brenna.”

  “Not that. You called me ‘Daddy.’ You don’t mean it.” His weak voice had an eerie lilt.

  Many years of unresolved hurt hung suspended in the air. But not mine.

  His tortured eyes sank into a blackness that almost drew pity from me. I’d been healed by my heavenly Father. His guilt seemed to paralyze him in that moment. If he did have a daughter, what did I care? I was about to lose my own.

  He moved as if he’d reach for my hand, then stopped. “No, no, no. More to fail. I don’t know how, I never did.”

  I managed to stand, and took a few steps toward him. “It’s all right. I can help you.”

  He stumbled toward the bathroom door, stopped mumbling, and turned to face me. He panted as if he’d been running.

  I followed him. “Come on. Let’s go to the bank right now.”

  “I’m sorry, Bailey. Daddy’s sorry. Tell Brenna Daddy’s sorry.” He opened the bathroom door and walked inside. He closed the door behind him.

  A contraction threw me down, my back against the bathroom door.

  The gunshot sent vibrations against the door and echoed through the cabin.

  Water rushed between my legs.

  Silence, and then blackness.

  9

  A sharp pain in my back jerked me to consciousness. Dusk darkened the silent room. I looked around.

  And then I remembered. The gunshot roared over and over in my mind. Elation and despair mingled with fear. Words swam in my thoughts. He can’t hurt me now. But how could I get to the hospital? My mind pounded with the driving need to get help.

  Get up.

  Brown…my daddy, was dead. He’d never loved me. But he’d loved another daughter so much he’d asked me for help. Because only love could be that bold. Or insanity. No. I wouldn’t believe it. He wanted the money for Brenna.

  Get up, Bailey.

  I pushed myself off the floor. I called out, but my voice squeaked like a hoarse mouse. I tried to turn the knob on the bathroom door. No, I couldn’t go in there. I knocked, not expecting an answer, but because the keys to his car were in his pocket. I pounded because I didn’t know what else to do.

  Brown was on the other side of the door, most likely dead, or horribly wounded. No sound came from the room.

  Those car keys might save my babies’ lives. I pushed against the door, but it wouldn’t open.

  He must have slumped against it.

  I leaned with all my might but slid to the floor with the next contraction. Panic rose in my throat. My heart raced as I tried to focus. Three short breaths and one long one. Repeat. Try and relax. The contraction subsided. I leaned my head against the door and closed my eyes. God help me, please.

  Distant piano music floated on the evening breeze.

  Half delirious with fear and pain I tried to discern which direction it came from. I managed to stand using the doorknob and the nearby kitchen counter. I stepped over the spot where my water had broken. Could I make it outside and find whoever was playing that music?

  I gripped the back of the straight chair where my father sat begging me for money, announcing a daughter, a sister. I pushed the chair toward the front door as a kind of walker.

  The series of locks took time to undo, but adrenaline helped me stand long enough to get them unlocked and push out the door. If I could just get to the car and honk the horn before the next contraction.

  The chair didn’t scoot along the grass as well as in the house. I sensed the next contraction starting and slid to my knees. I panted, with both hands on the ground, dizziness blinding me. This one was almost more than I could bear. I crawled the rest of the way to the car, pulled up on the door handle, and opened it, fell sideways into the front seat and pressed on the horn.

  The honking seemed to stir the babies and they rolled, the pressure increasing in my lower abdomen. I honked through the next contraction, but felt the blackness overtaking my head. If I passed out, I prayed the next contraction would wake me so I could continue honking. A roaring filled my head as nausea rose in my throat.

  The music had stopped Now, only roaring filled my ears. Please help me stay conscious.

  “What in the world?” A woman’s voice found its way into my stupor. Hands lifted my legs and pushed me farther into the car. Blood on her hands frightened me. Would my babies die?

  “Hang on, sweetie, I’m calling 911.”

  That’s all I needed to hear. Thank you, God. Please help my babies.

  She yelled for Kevin Brown.

  He wouldn’t be answering.

  I closed my eyes and let the darkness come.

  10

  I gripped Bailey’s necklace so tightly that the little cross cut into my fingers. Blood covered the bit of gold, and spread across my palm. “No!” The sight of blood panicked me. I wiped the cross over my slacks. I couldn’t get the blood off. Had she tossed it to alert someone? Or had she lost it in a scuffle? The clasp was broken.

  “Here.” Javier handed me a denim handkerchief.

  I rubbed the cross until it shown.

  “What’s taking them so long? She was here! She must be close by.” My voice shook.

  “It’s just been a couple of minutes. I think I hear sirens. You should sit down, Mr. West, you’re white as a sheet.” He opened the door to my truck and nudged me by the shoulder.

  “Sit? Bailey was here, I want to find her. Let’s just get in the truck and follow that dirt road over there. Why don’t they get here?” A swirling pain weakened my vision. I bent over, grabbing my knees. I breathed in the air that had gone cool. Bailey’s favorite time of year was finally cooperating. I hoped she would live to enjoy i
t. Stop! I had to quit thinking that way. I would find her.

  Javier’s hand grasped the back of my neck. “Here they come.”

  Two police cars sped past the station, one down a nearby dirt road, and the other through a clearing in the woods. The tan sedan scrunched across the gravel. Detective Carter jumped out. “Mr. West, you say you found her necklace?”

  I stood and held it out to him.

  “There are quite a few dirt roads out here. I’ve called for more cars.”

  “Let’s go. We can take one. You can drive, just let’s go look for her.” I took a step toward his car, and lost my balance.

  Javier caught me by the arm, steadied me, then let go.

  “I think you should go back to your diner and wait. You’re in no condition. We are doing everything we can. Go home.” Carter gave Javier a nod toward my truck.

  Javier took me by the arm again, and pulled me toward my vehicle.

  “Let go. I’m looking for my wife.” I jerked my arm away.

  Detective Carter was already in his car on his radio.

  Javier grabbed my arm. “Don’t make me go all wrestler on you. Let’s get in and go back to the diner. The police will find her. I know they will. Come on.”

  “I can’t. I need to find her now. Don’t you understand?”

  “I think I do, but we’re going back. Get in.” He strong-armed me toward the truck.

  The strength had vanished from my legs, and they wobbled as I tried to get in. Tears blurred my vision.

  Javier held out his hands. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my keys. He took them and then closed the passenger door. A few seconds later he slid into the driver side. “They’ll find her,” he said.

  “I can’t even pray.” I gripped the dashboard with both hands.

  Javier took a deep breath. The next moment his hand rested on my shoulder, his eyes closed, and he prayed in Spanish.

  With each word, my breathing steadied, and the pain in my head subsided.

  He prayed us all the way back to the diner.

  I don’t remember how I got inside; it was a blur. I sat in a chair, hands all over my back, head and shoulders, as many prayers were lifted. After half an hour, I walked outside to try to clear my head.

  Detective Carter’s car roared into the parking lot. He rolled down the window. “Mr. West, we’ve found your wife.”

  The most beautiful words I’d ever heard. “Where is she?”

  “She’s en route to Marshall General. Hop in and I’ll get you there.”

  I jumped in on the passenger side and Carter peeled out onto the highway.

  “Emergency? Is she all right?” My heart did conga drums in my chest, and a little spinning wheel took up between my eyes.

  “Hard to tell because the EMTs say she’s unconscious. Her water has broken. Those babies will be born today.” He stared straight ahead.

  “But, who? How? What happened?”

  “I’ll get the details. Let’s just get you there.”

  “Can’t this thing go any faster?”

  Carter must have been eating onion rings in his car or something. The smell nauseated me. I rolled down the window. He turned on his siren and let the lights flash as he sped up. He picked up his radio mic. “Carter requesting status of West woman, kidnap victim en route to Marshall General Hospital.”

  The static responded, but with an unmistakable, “stable”.

  Stable, alive. Bailey! “The babies?”

  “We’ll see, hold on tight.” Carter put his mic back into position.

  My hands shook, but people needed to know. I called my uncle. “Toppy, they’ve found her. She’s en route to Marshall General as we speak. Please let everyone know.” I sounded pubescent. My breaths rasped shallow and rapid. My chest tightened.

  Shouts and squeals sounded on the other end of the phone, but I rang off and put the phone back in my pocket. My chest began to heave with panic. No way. I will not have a panic attack when my family needs me. Dear Lord, help me. I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breathing.

  “Relax, man. There’s every reason to believe things will be fine.”

  I nodded, not wanting to break my concentration. Just pray, and breathe.

  Carter let me out at the ER entrance. I ran inside and went straight for the check in desk. “Bailey West?” I must have leaned too far over the counter, for the nurse pushed her chair back a few inches.

  “We’re expecting her any moment. Please find a seat in the family waiting room.”

  Nope. Not happening. I jogged back outside to the entrance and heard the ambulance sirens blaring. I could barely breathe. I had to see her.

  The ambulance pulled to a stop and the back doors flew open.

  I ran to look inside.

  “Step aside, sir, we need to work fast.” The EMTs pulled the stretcher from the back of the ambulance.

  “Bailey!”

  “Please, sir, step aside.”

  Carter pulled me back. “You’ll help her better by staying out of the way.” He kept his hands on my shoulders as they rolled her to the door.

  Her eyes were closed, and her face covered with an oxygen mask, she didn’t seem to be aware of anything. Her skin was pale, as though all the blood had been drained out. I followed behind.

  The gurney carrying my beloved disappeared behind double doors.

  Detective Carter held a firm grip on me.

  Bailey’s mom took my hand. How’d she get here so fast? “Come on, Scott. Let’s get you in scrubs. If there is any chance they’ll let you in, you want to be ready. Normally they would, but under these circumstances, I don’t know.”

  “Mom!” I threw my arms around her and we both wept.

  “Let’s get you ready,” she said, pulling tissue from her scrubs pocket and wiping my tears first, then hers.

  “I’ll get back on the case and see what I can find out. I’m glad she’s found, Mr. West, and my prayers are with you both.” Carter offered me his hand.

  I shook it, and then held it with both hands. “Thanks, and please do pray.”

  “Scott, go with Nurse White. I’ll go see what’s going on,” Bailey’s mom said.

  A nurse in pink scrubs led me to the back of the office area. “I’m Tiana White, and I’ll be right back,” she said.

  I found myself alone for a minute. I grabbed my knees and bent, still trying to steady my breathing. Thank You, God, she’s found. What has she been through? Lord, please save my babies. I’ll kill him. That last thought was horrible, but if he’d hurt my Bailey, our children, I’d seriously have to be restrained. Wait. Focus on Bailey now.

  Nurse White came around the corner and handed me a set of green scrubs. “Put these on over your clothes, and cover your shoes with these slippers. Scrub your hands up to the elbows with soap and water over here,” she said, pointing to the lavatory.

  I donned the garb and washed the heck out of my hands and arms.

  The door opened.

  “Scott.”

  I turned, my hands dripping wet. “David!”

  He bounded into the room and gave me a bear hug. “I checked her out thoroughly, and then turned her over to the OB. He’s a fine surgeon, don’t you worry. They’ll be just fine.”

  “Thanks, Doc.” Words of gratitude stuck in my throat.

  He took a towel from the lavatory and put it in my hands.

  Nurse White opened the door. “Mr. West, you can go in, but you must stand back and be quiet.”

  I grabbed David by both shoulders. “You say they’ll be OK?”

  “Looks like it, now go.”

  Nurse White led me through the doors to the OR.

  My poor wife. Her pale face was dwarfed under an anesthesia mask. Her mother stood beside her bed.

  “Is that really necessary? She’s already unconscious.” Mask, equipment, beeping. My heart raced.

  “She might wake up mid-procedure, and we don’t want her to suddenly feel the pain of the surgery,” Nurse White whispere
d.

  The surgeon walked in. We made eye contact and he nodded at me.

  “That’s Dr. Bost. He’s very good at this. Don’t worry,” she whispered and patted my back.

  I took a step toward her. “Please, just let me touch her.”

  “Sure, give her a kiss, then you will need to step back,” Dr. Bost said.

  Her mom reached for me, and I stepped up to the bed. She moved out of the way so I could lean over Bailey’s face and kiss her forehead. “I’m here, beloved, I’m here. We’re all praying. You’ll be fine. I’m here.”

  Bailey’s mom put her hands on my waist and tugged me away. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

  The doctor had barely taken his position beside Bailey’s bed before he called for the knife and made the first incision.

  Fear welled inside me.

  A few moments later, Dr. Bost pulled my firstborn child from Bailey’s body.

  “Here’s your son, Mr. West.” He motioned me closer and handed me scissors. “Cut right here,” he said pointing to a spot on the umbilical cord. Our little boy screeched his displeasure at leaving the warmth of his mama. Thanks to Kevin Brown, it hadn’t been that safe near the end. Focus, Scott. “He’s Paul, after my dad.”

  Dr. Bost passed our tiny, wailing little boy over to the nursing staff, who cleaned him up, measured, weighed, and put drops in his eyes. I wanted to go near and get a closer look, but my daughter was about to be born. Bailey’s mom moved closer to the bassinet where Paul pitched quite a fit.

  “He’s perfect!” Gwen said.

  “And here’s the girl.” Dr. Bost pulled my daughter from the womb, and we repeated the cutting of the cord.

  “And this is Helen, after Bailey’s grandmother.”

  I followed the nurse to the heated crib where they began to work on Helen. She cried her discomfort as well. I spent a moment counting fingers and toes, lifting my heart in thanks, but then returned to get as close to Bailey as possible. “Doc, how is she?”

  “I think she will be fine, but we won’t know for sure until she wakes up. Her vitals are normal for a successful Cesarean. You go with your newborns, and we’ll take care of your wife.”

  I knew Bailey would have to be sewn up and then monitored. No way could they keep me from checking on her. The babies seemed fine. I wanted to know the same about Bailey. I wanted to know what had happened, what she’d been through. I wanted to tell her how sorry I was that I’d left her alone, that I hadn’t told her Brown showed up on our wedding day a year ago.