Someone tell Shawn and Brenna. Tim Riley, will you go for Mollie O'Toole? She'll know what to do.'
Leaving her jacket on the hook in her rush, she scurried out into the rain. 'How did you find her?' She was shouting, but her voice was all but swept away by the wind, drowned under the crashing of the waves against the seawall.
'I was coming down, the house was dark. I thought something might be wrong.'
'No, no, I mean how is she? Is she holding up?'
'She was alone.' Trevor would never forget the way she'd looked, or that he'd had to leave her. 'She was scared. In pain.'
Fear skidded down Darcy's spine. 'She's a tough one, our Jude Frances. She'll come through it. As for the rest of us, we'll just have to figure out what to do.'
Darcy shoved at the hair plastered to her face as she rushed into the house. 'You don't have to come up. It must be hard on a man.'
'I'm coming.'
Jude sat up in bed, her hands clutched in Aidan's as she panted. His eyes were wild, but his voice was crooning. 'That's the way, darling, that's just fine. Nearly over now. Nearly done.'
She collapsed back, her face running with sweat. 'They're getting stronger.'
'She's having it here.' Aidan got to his feet, but kept his hand gripped on Jude's. 'She says she's having it here. She can't be having a baby here. I've told her. But she won't listen.'
'Of course she can have it here.' Darcy spoke cheerfully over the sick dread in her throat. If Aidan panicked, she knew the desperate would become the impossible. 'And won't that be cozy? Such a night you've picked, Jude Frances, for bringing the next Gallagher into the world. It's a wild one.'
As she spoke, she moved to the side of the bed, dried
Jude's face with a corner of the sheet. What to do? What was she supposed to do? God, she couldn't think. No, she had to think.
'Now, then, you went to all those classes. Why don't you tell us what we should do first to be some help in this whole business?'
'I don't know. It isn't supposed to be like this. God, I'm so thirsty.'
'I'll get you some water.'
'Ice.' Trevor took a step forward. 'She can have ice chips. Aidan, she'd probably be more comfortable if you got into bed behind her, helped support her back. She's better off sitting up a little. I was my sister's backup coach during all three of her labors.'
Of course, he thought, that had been something of a lark. All happening in a nice clean and cheerful birthing suite, with his brother-in-law manning the post and a doctor and nurse-midwife in attendance.
'There.' Darcy smiled brightly. 'A man with experience. Just what we need. I'll get you a cool, damp cloth, darling, then some of those ice chips.'
Jude let out a gasp, one hand flailing in the air, grasping for Darcy's arm. 'Now! It's coming now!'
'No, not yet.' Plan, priorities, order, Trevor told himself and bracing, flipped back the sheet. 'It's crowning.' He put everything out of his mind but what needed to be done. 'Don't push yet, Jude. Blow through it. Breathe. Aidan?'
'That's it, darling. Pant.' He wrapped an arm around her, ran his hand in circles on her rock-hard belly. 'Hold on to it now and pant, and you'll slide right over the pain.'
'Over it, my ass!' With the contraction at its vicious peak, Jude reached back, got a fistful of his hair, and had his eyes bugging out. 'What the hell do you know about it? What the bloody hell do you know, you jerk!'
'You can do better than that,' Darcy urged and wondered if Jude's fingers would dig right down to the bone on her arm. 'There's much better names to call him at such a time.'
'Idiot, moron, ape. Bastard!' she shouted when the pain spiked.
'All of those and more, my darling,' he murmured, still stroking. 'I'm all of those and more. There, there, it's passing. Now, if you could just let go of me hair and leave me what you haven't torn out by the roots.'
'Let's get busy.' Time, Trevor thought, was getting short. He heard the crash of the front door, the thunder of feet on the stairs and was grateful they'd have more hands.
'Shawn.' He shot out orders the minute Shawn and Brenna ran in the room. 'Get a fire going in here. We need it warm. Brenna, go down and get some ice, chip some for Jude to chew on. Find some good sharp scissors, and cord. Darcy, fresh sheets and towels.'
While they scattered, Trevor looked down at Jude. 'I'm going to wash up. My sister liked music during delivery, said it soothed her.'
'We were going to have music playing.'
Trevor nodded. 'Sing,' he ordered Aidan before he walked out of the room.
They worked smoothly together, and fast. Within ten minutes the fire was blazing, filling the room with light and heat. Outside, the storm was screaming in a kind of wild triumph, but there, in that room, voices were raised in song.
In bed, Jude leaned back against Aidan, trying to catch the breath the contractions robbed her of. Every ounce of will was focused on the child who was determined to be born. Such focus and purpose left no room for modesty. She could only be grateful that Trevor knelt at her feet, between her updrawn knees.
'I have to push. I have to.'
'Hold on a minute.' That was for himself, bracing room. 'You have to stop when I tell you, so I can turn the baby, the head and shoulders.' He'd watched it, he reminded himself, fascinated by the process. He could do it.
'Okay, on the next contraction, push, and when I say stop, pant and blow.' He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his forearm. He took a breath, let it out.
'It's starting. I have to-'
'Push!' he told her, just as lightning flashed, a million wild jewels of light. And to Trevor's shock, the baby shot out, a slick bullet, into his hands, and already wailing.
'Wow.' He stared foolishly at the wriggling, furious life that he held. 'She was in a hurry. It's a girl,' he managed, and looked up. But his eyes met Darcy's and watched, for the third time, as she wept.
'Jude.' Rocking, Aidan pressed his face against his wife's hair. 'Look at her. Just look. She's beautiful.'
'I want-' Words strangling in her throat, Jude held out her arms. When Trevor laid the baby over her belly, and her hands touched her for the first time, she laughed.
'She's perfect. Isn't she perfect? She already has hair. Look at her. Such lovely, dark hair.'
'And a voice to match.' Shawn came around the bed, bent to brush a kiss over Jude's cheek. 'She's your nose, Jude Frances.'
'Does she? 1 think you're right.' Turning her head, she met Aidan's mouth with hers. 'Thank you.'
He managed no more than her name before he laid his head on her shoulder.
'What do we call her?' Darcy turned the cloth she'd dampened again, dabbed at Jude's face. She wanted to collapse beside the bed, lay her head on it and weep and laugh. Not yet, she ordered herself. Not yet. 'What name did you finally choose for her?'
'She's Ailish.' Jude stopped counting her daughter's fingers-look how tiny! how perfect!-to look down at Trevor. 'What's your mother's name, Trevor?'
'What?' He hadn't moved, and now shook his head as if to clear it. 'My mother? She's Carolyn.'
'Her name is Ailish Carolyn Gallagher. And you'll all be her godparents.'
For a little while no one noticed the storm had gone silent.
It was the oddest sensation to find his legs weak when he went downstairs. He felt full of energy, of light, so much so that he thought he could run ten miles without being winded. But his legs were weak as water.
Brenna and Shawn were already back in the kitchen and had a glass of whiskey poured for him. Without a word, he took it, knocked it back.
'That's fine, but now you'll have to have another.'
Brenna did the honors and poured with a generous hand. 'For a toast. To Ailish Carolyn Gallagher.'
They clinked glasses, and he drank again, forgetting his usual caution in the spirit of the event. 'Some night.'
'That it is.' Shawn slapped his back. 'God bless you, Trevor, you were a champion.'
