she’d just gone on duty. “Raise up, honey. Okay. Carolyn? Get the wastebasket.” She peeled off Dawn’s sodden sweats and panties and dumped them into the can.
Dawn wept. “I’m so sorry, Granny. I ruined your couch.”
“Didn’t you just hear your mother say it was ready for the junkyard? She wasn’t going to let me keep it.”
“Your nice sheets…”
“Oh, hush!”
Carolyn wanted to scream. A couch? Sheets? They had other things to worry about! The baby was coming
“Another contraction?” Carolyn’s mother picked up her wristwatch and checked Dawn’s pulse.
Dawn groaned low and spoke through clenched teeth. “I thought first babies took a long time…”
“Not always. Take a big breath and blow it out. Rest as much as you can, honey.”
In less than a minute, another contraction came. Dawn looked at Carolyn. “Mom. You brought the Suburban.”
“Yes, but Granny said we can’t drive out of here.”
“No.” Dawn panted. “But you have GPS and OnStar, don’t you?”
“Yes!” Carolyn rushed out. Rummaging through her purse, she found her keys and ran for the door.
Hildie wiped Dawn’s forehead. The poor girl was burning up. Though it had been decades since Hildie had assisted at a childbirth, she could still recognize a serious situation when she saw it. “Is there anything else I should know about your condition, sweetheart? You haven’t looked well ever since you arrived. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
Dawn met her eyes briefly, then glanced away. “Hodgkin’s lymphoma. It’s why I came home. Well, partly why.” Dawn grabbed her hand. “Don’t you dare cry. Not now. And don’t say anything to Mom. Please, Granny. I was going to talk to both of you at the same time, but I wanted you two to work things out first.” Another contraction came, harder than the last. “God won’t take this baby. He won’t.”
Hildie stroked Dawn’s hair back and told her to ride on top of the pain, like a surfer on a wave. “When did you find out?”
Dawn panted, beads of perspiration on her face. “October. The doctor wanted me to start chemo.” Tears streamed from her eyes into her hair. “They told me they could limit the dose to protect the baby, but I just couldn’t take that chance. Not after waiting so long for her.”
“Why didn’t you tell us? Your mom and Mitch would have flown out to be with you-or to bring you back here. We could have helped you.”
The back door opened. “Don’t tell her! Please. Not yet. Let me-”
“Shhh.” Hildie wiped her cheeks quickly. “Don’t worry. Concentrate on having your daughter.”
Carolyn came back into the bedroom. “I got through. They’re calling it in.” She came around the bed and took Dawn’s hand. “How’re you doing?”
Dawn gave her a tremulous smile. “Fine, Mom.”
“There’s a rescue helicopter at Santa Rosa Memorial, but it’s going to take a while.” Carolyn squeezed Dawn’s hand. “It stopped raining a few minutes ago. God’s clearing the way. They’ll have to land on the road down by the Jenner Inn and hike up.”
Another contraction had Dawn crying out and pushing down. Hildie put her hand on Dawn’s abdomen again, timing the contraction. “What about the tree? Can they get by it?”
“I wish I had a chain saw!” Carolyn didn’t take her eyes off Dawn.
Trip had bought one, but Hildie wasn’t about to tell Carolyn where to find it. She didn’t even want to think about the damage her daughter could do to herself with one of those things. “Bring the Coleman stove into the bathroom. Get a big pot, fill it with water, and get it boiling. There should be string in one of the kitchen drawers, and bring my sharp paring knife. And tongs.”
Dawn giggled. “Granny sounds like my nursing instructor at San Luis Obispo. Bossy!”
“Thank God!” Smiling, Carolyn rushed out again. She set everything up. “I put some of your new towels on a kitchen chair in front of the fire. They’ll be warm enough for the baby.”
“Not too close, I hope,” Granny muttered. “The last thing we need right now is a fire.”
They all laughed a little wildly.
Five minutes later, they knew the baby wasn’t going to wait for the helicopter.
“Wash your hands carefully, Carolyn, but hurry up about it.” Hildie knew she didn’t have the physical strength to finish the job. Dawn’s body shook through transition. Her granddaughter had no break now, one contraction rolling right over into another, crushing her with pain.
Now that she knew it wasn’t just childbirth racking Dawn’s frail body, Hildie had to will herself not to weep. All her knowledge and training kicked into overdrive, but her legs had begun to ache so much she could barely stand. “I need that vanity chair, Carolyn.”
Carolyn set it where she pointed.
“Stand there. You’re going to deliver your granddaughter.”
“What?”
“I’m going to tell you what to do. Don’t argue or say you can’t. You can.”
Carolyn obeyed. Hildie put her hand on Dawn’s arm and talked them both through it. She told Dawn to let nature take its course. “Don’t hold back. Push!” She gave Carolyn instructions and watched her do exactly as told. Dawn’s daughter broke into the world, red-faced and screaming.
Carolyn laughed joyously. “She’s beautiful, Dawn. She’s perfect, just like you were.”
“Put the baby on Dawn’s abdomen. Tie the cord, Carolyn. That’s it. You can cut it now. I’ll get the towels.”
The
Hildie took the warm towels draped over the chair in front of the fireplace and brought them back to her girls. “Early bird or not, her lungs are in great condition.” Dawn and Carolyn laughed in relief. Carolyn wrapped the baby and placed her in Dawn’s arms.
Dawn drew the soft toweling down and gazed into her daughter’s face. Smiling, she kissed her. “Your name is Faith.” She looked up at her mother and sorrow mingled with joy. “Sit here close to me, Mom. You, too, Granny. I have to tell you something.”
Hildie already knew. When Dawn finished, Carolyn was white. “No.” Hildie reached for her hand and held it tightly, her own heart breaking.
“I didn’t want it to be true either, Mom. But we can’t hide from the truth. You and Granny will need to work together. Jason’s life isn’t his own. You’ll be Faith’s guardian, Mom. Granny, you’re going to help her. So will Georgia. God is going to give back all the years the locusts ate, Mom.”
“May Flower Dawn.” Carolyn crumbled, head against Dawn’s side.
Dawn put her hand on her mother’s head as though offering a blessing. “You’re stronger than anyone I know. Keep Faith, Mom.” She smiled at Hildie. “Promise me you’ll share.”
When the paramedics arrived, they worked quickly, efficiently. They said they had room for only one more in the helicopter. Hildie almost said she’d go, but stopped herself. “You go.” She cupped Carolyn’s face. “You’re her mother.”
“Mitch and I will come out and get you as soon as we can.”
Hildie kissed Dawn and the baby. “I’ll see you both soon.” She tucked a strand of golden hair away from Dawn’s cheek. “You hold on to faith, honey. Don’t you dare give up.”
When they left, Hildie went back inside. She sat in her recliner and cried. Then she prayed. She kept praying until dusk came. She forgot to stoke the fire, and it went out. She took the blanket off the couch and bundled up in it. She had weathered other winters without fire or light. She could weather this one. The darkness fit her
