Page 60 of Before You Can Blink
Oh, shit.
Heart jumping into my throat, I tried like hell to stay calm. Everything was going to be fine. They’d broken her water when she was in labor with Aspen, and that girl hadn’t been born for another eight hours. We just needed to get to the hospital. That was my main focus now.
“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” I wasn’t sure which one of us I was trying to convince—me or her.
Her pretty face contorted in pain right before she doubled over, gripped her belly, and let out a low moan.
That jolted me into action, and I rushed to her side. One hand rubbed down the length of her back, while the other kept a firm hold on her elbow to keep her upright. “Breathe,” I coached. “Just breathe.”
“Hurts,” she whimpered.
“I know, but you’ve gotta keep breathing.” Last time, the epidural had kept her from feeling much of her contractions, so I was flying blind on how best to support her through the waves of pain.
Panting, Daisy managed to straighten, leaning her weight on me. “It’s passed.”
“Good. Let’s get down to the cabin, and we can drop Aspen off at Ma’s on the way out of town.”
We made it halfway down the aisle before Daisy’s knees buckled without warning, and her keening wail bounced off every surface, boomeranging back to reverberate through my skull in surround sound, loud enough to make my ears ring. I gritted my teeth, my forearms and biceps straining with the effort to keep her from collapsing to the hard concrete at our feet.
When her howls of agony trailed off, she rasped, “Not gonna make it. Set me down.”
My eyes volleyed between the woman at my side and the yawning door to the barn, where beyond lay the cabin and, more importantly, my truck.
No, we couldn’t stop.
I tried to tug her forward. “We’ve gotta get you out of here. Come on.”
Breathless, she shook her head. “Jett, I can’t.” Eyes squeezing shut, she grimaced. “Here comes another one.”
Fuck. She was barely getting a break in between.
We needed to get out of here. Now.
“I’ll carry you.”
I bent at the waist to scoop her into my arms, but she protested with a sharp, “No!”
Panic flooded my system. “Daze. Please.” I wasn’t above begging. Not right now.
Tears streaked down Daisy’s face. “I don’t want to scare Aspen.”
“Goddammit,” I gritted out low under my breath. It’s not like I could admit that I was downright terrified when my wife was more concerned about our daughter in this situation than herself.
“Okay.” I inhaled a shallow breath, which was all the vise tightened around my chest would allow.
Scanning the space, my eyes landed on the door to the tack room, and inspiration struck.
Practically dragging Daisy over to a stack of haybales against an empty stall, I eased her onto her knees. Immediately, she leaned her forearms atop the rough bundle, her head coming to rest between them as her hips rocked and she hummed through whatever war her body was waging—one I would never fully understand.
Pressing a kiss to the damp skin at her temple, I murmured, “Hold tight. I’m gonna call for help, but I’ll only be gone a second.”
She didn’t acknowledge me, her focus clearly elsewhere.
I ran to the tack room, grabbed the handheld radio, and pressed the side button to transmit my message. “Wade? Wade, can you hear me?” I lifted my thumb and prayed he had his transceiver on him wherever he was on the property.
Static crackled a split second before his voice came through the speaker. “Yeah, Boss. What’s up?”
The relief that surged at his reply was drowned out by a raw, animalistic scream that had me rushing back to Daisy’s side. Swallowing roughly, I spoke to Wade, “We need help out at the barn.”
