Page 54 of Roping the Rodeo Queen
My pulse pounds, my ears ring, and I can't think straight."Whuh---what should I do, Jo?"
She lets out a sharp huff."Come into the house and call the midwife!Are all men this stupid?"
"Oh yeah, midwife."I'm already dropping Thunder's hoof and backing away from the horse stall, my hands shaking like I'm the one about to give birth."Are you timing the contractions?Should I---"
"Clay."Jo's calm voice cuts through my panic, helping me relax a little."Stop talking and start moving.Now."
Before Jo can finish that single word, I'm running toward the house faster than I've ever moved in my life, phone still pressed to my ear."I'm coming, darlin'.Just breathe."I see my father on the porch swing and shout to him as I keep running, "Finish shoeing Thunder for me, Dad.Jo's water broke!"
He leaps up and sprints toward the barn.
"Don't you dare tell me to breathe again, Clay McKendrick."Even in labor, my wife's got enough fire to melt steel."I've been breathing for twenty-eight years without your help."
Of course she knows how to breathe.I'm panicking while she seems relatively calm.I burst through the kitchen door to find Jo gripping the counter, her knuckles white as fresh snow.Her auburn hair has escaped its ponytail, wild strands framing her face as she breathes through what I'm guessing is another contraction.
"Midwife," I say, fumbling for the contact list we'd stuck to the refrigerator.My hands are shaking so bad I can barely read the numbers."Casey's number, where's Casey's number?"
"Top of the list, you bonehead."Jo's grip on the counter tightens."And while you're at it, grab the go-bag from the hall closet."
I dial with trembling fingers, pacing back and forth like a caged animal while Casey's phone rings.Come on, come on, pick up.
"McKendrick residence calling for Casey," I blurt out the second someone answers.
"Clay?It's Casey.Is Jo in labor?"
"Her water broke, and she's having contractions, and the baby's not supposed to come for another week, and I don't know what to do and---"
"Clay, take a breath and exhale slowly."Casey's voice is calm and professional, as if she often coaches men whose wives are in labor."How far apart are the contractions?"
I look helplessly at Jo, who's now leaning forward with both hands on the counter with her face scrunched up.
"We haven't been timing them," I admit, feeling utterly useless.
Jo opens one eye to glare at me."About seven minutes.They started this morning, but I thought they were just practice ones."
My jaw drops."This morning?Jo, why didn't you---"
"Because I knew you'd act exactly like this," she snaps, then winces as another wave of pain hits her.
Casey's calm voice comes through the speaker."That's still early labor, but with her water breaking, I need you to bring her to the birthing center now.Don't panic, but don't dawdle either."
"Yes, ma'am."I hang up and race across the kitchen in two strides, wrapping my arm around Jo's waist."Casey says we need to get to the birthing center."
"No kidding," Jo snaps, but then she leans into me, letting me take some of her weight.That scares me more than anything---Jo never admits when she needs help.
"The bag," she reminds me through gritted teeth.
"Right.The bag."I help her get to a chair and sit down.Then I sprint to the hall closet where the meticulously packed hospital bag has been waiting for weeks.Jo had organized it with military precision while I watched, bewildered by the sheer number of items a tiny human apparently needs.
When I return, Jo is standing up again with one hand lodged at her hip.The other hand is braced against the wall.
"Truck keys," she hisses, and I'm already grabbing them from the hook by the door.
"Got 'em, darlin'."I sling the bag over my shoulder and move to help her again, but she waves me off.
"I can still walk, Clay.I'm not made of glass."
Famous last words, because halfway to the truck, another contraction hits her like a freight train.Jo doubles over, gripping my arm so tightly I'm pretty sure she's cutting off circulation.
