Miracles. Part 19

Fifteen.

"Pant, Lynn. Don't push."

"Kate, I- I've got to. I can't-"

"Yes, you can, sweetie. Pant-light and high, like a puppy. Give me one more second."

Give me long enough to get you to the hospital. But Kate knew, even as she carefully slipped a practiced hand inside Lynn's straining body, that they weren't going to make it.

"Okay, try to relax," she said. "I'm going to be very, very gentle. I just need to know what's going on."

The young woman was whimpering and trembling from an hour and a half of bone-racking labor, but at least she wasn't hysterical anymore. The sound of her screams had chilled Kate's blood when Erik and she had walked in the front door of the lodge five minutes ago. She didn't blame Lynn for being hysterical. What she was feeling made her want to scream a little herself.

"Well," she said, "the good news is, this is going to be over soon. The bad news is, I don't think we're going to make it to the hospital." And the frightening news is, I can't tell if you might bleed to death before the ambulance gets here.

With the memory of Lynn's slight bleeding the week before, Kate was very aware that she didn't know the cause of the episode. If she did a thorough exam, though, which might verify one or the other of several possibilities, she could start a hemorrhage. That Lynn was almost fully dilated and hadn't started to bleed was somewhat hopeful. In any case, Kate realized, she couldn't do a thing to stop this baby from being born, and it was happening too quickly to try to take Lynn to the hospital herself.

"Kate, I . . . I want to push again. Please, I-"

"I want you to try really hard not to. Give me a minute to get ready here." Kate snapped off the disposable glove, tossed it into the wastebasket beside the bed, and looked up to meet Erik's terrified gaze. "Go radio for Doc. Tell him to call for an ambulance and to get out here."

With one glance at his wife, Erik raced from the room.

Kate flew into action. Talking to Lynn, rea.s.suring and directing her constantly, she checked the young woman's blood pressure and pulse, and listened to the baby's heartbeat. She also put an IV needle in Lynn' s arm-"Just in case," she said.

Transforming the bedroom into a suitable place to give birth came next, not an easy task amid the piles of plaster dust and peeling wallpaper. The smell of fresh paint from the corridor outside the room burned Kate's nostrils as she replaced the soaked sheets with sterile ones. Another sterile sheet went over a small wooden table, which was then quickly covered with piles of gauze pads, towels, scissors, syringes, clamps, and the other tools of her trade. In five minutes' time, she scrubbed and doused everything, including Lynn, with antiseptic, and what she couldn't scrub and douse, she covered with a sterile sheet.

She'd stuck several clips in her hair, wound and knotted on the back of her head, and was returning to the bedroom from the adjoining bathroom, where she'd washed her hands and forearms for the second time, when Erik ran into the room.

"I can't get it to work," he announced breathlessly. "The radio-it's broken again."

Stifling the urge to shout her outrage, Kate was about to tell him to go use the one in her truck when the look on Erik's face stopped her. Her head snapped around, her gaze following his to the bright red stain on the white sheet beneath Lynn's hips.

"Lynn, stop pushing and pant," she ordered, sliding quickly onto the bed. "Erik, help me get her head down. That's it. Now lift her hips while I put these couple of pillows under her."

"What's wrong?" Lynn gasped.

"Sweetie, you're bleeding a little. Nothing to worry about. I'm just going to hook up this IV, and . . . there, that's it. Now, I want to listen for a second and see how the baby's-"

"Kate . . . I don't know . . . how long I can keep from- Oh, G.o.d . . ."

"Pant, Lynn. Don't push."

With her forehead pressed to the fetoscope held against Lynn's stomach, Kate counted heartbeats until she was certain the baby was all right-for the moment, anyway.

"Erik"-she looked at him hovering on the other side of the bed-"use the CB in my truck. Tell Doc that Lynn's ready to deliver and that she's bleeding. Forget the ambulance-I want a medevac chopper. Fast."

Erik nodded once, then ran for the doorway. At the same time, Kate saw Lynn's belly grow taut with another contrac-tion-and another couple of ounces of bright red blood gush out of her.

"Wait! Erik, stop!" Jumping off the bed, Kate ran into the hall, almost colliding with him as he swung around to face her.

"Go get Sam," she told him.

"Sam? You mean, the guy-"

"Yes. The keys are in my pickup. Radio Doc on the way. Tell Sam . . . tell him I need him."

And please, G.o.d, let him still be there.

It didn't matter that the thought of being with him was impossible. Nor did it matter that an hour ago she'd sworn he was safe here and that no one would try to use him. It didn't even matter that she'd told Doc she'd never ask Sam to use his gift for her purposes. Lynn's life, and her baby's, were in grave danger; she'd have sold her soul to save them. And all she was doing in asking Sam to help was selling her future- which she'd already lost, anyway.

If he was there, he would come. She didn't doubt that. Because he'd never be able to say no, any more than she would.

Sam's boots clomped on the bare wooden boards as he paced back and forth in front of the open cabin door. He'd headed after Katie half a dozen times, only to turn around and come back. He'd started to fix supper, but he was too agitated to eat. Finally, he'd tried to pack up the things he'd left around the cabin's main room, but when he'd carried the items into the bedroom to stick into his duffle, Katie's words slapped him in the face: "The only babies I'm ever going to want are yours."

Was she crazy? She wanted to marry him? Had she really thought about what she'd be letting herself in for? h.e.l.l, forget that. She hardly even knew him.

But as he paced to the couch and his gaze fell upon the half-hidden book tucked behind the cushion, open to the page where Katie had left off, a quiet voice inside him said, She knows you. And she knows better than anybody what she'd be getting into. So stop looking for an easy way out of this and be honest. h.e.l.l, yes, for once in your life, Reese, be honest.

Honest was that Katie wanted to marry him, and she wanted his babies. His babies. He knew what that meant; he wasn't that dishonest with himself. But he was too scared to put it into words. Yes, scared. Shaking, sweating, pack-and-leave scared. And the worst part was, he didn't even know why.

Leaning straight-armed on the back of the couch, staring blindly at the cold hearth in front of it, Sam asked himself what could happen. What was the very worst thing that could happen to him if he stayed here and . . . say it, Reese . . . let himself love Katie, and let Katie love him?

Was it the people who might come banging on his door, asking for his help? Or Marty, whom he frankly missed, flying up with a patient who was beyond his own skills? Or Doc Cabot, who practically reeked with integrity, trying to use him? Maybe it was people finding out what he could do, then looking at him like he was . . . like he was G.o.d.

He hated that. More than anything else, it angered him and made him feel strange and isolated. Still, he understood why people reacted that way to him, and he even thought he could handle it if there was at least one person who really knew him-who knew he was only a man. Yes, he truly believed he could put up with the rest if he had just one person, one real friend, to whom his being a man meant more than his being a healer.

So why had he just spent an hour packing to leave her?

Because you're living in the past, that same quiet voice whispered. You're leaving her before she has the chance to hurt you. That's how you learned to survive, even though it never really gave you what you needed or wanted. But it's time to let the past go, Sam. It's over. You're not the man you were before. And if you'd give yourself the chance- the chance Someone else already gave you- you could be a better man.

It was true, his opinion of himself hadn't been too hot since he'd had to endure that unearthly replay of his life. It wasn't that he'd been a bad person. But the next time he faced that final life review, he wanted to know he'd been a truly good person . . . the kind of person Katie was. The kind she should have for a husband and a father for her children.

The rock-bottom truth was that Katie deserved a better man than the man he'd been. She deserved the man he could be. The man he felt himself becoming. She deserved a man with courage that matched her own. Which was not the courage to risk physical death in an airplane but the courage to risk his heart in love.

It was a risk he'd never taken, and the thought of it chilled him to the marrow. Honest to G.o.d, he didn't know if he could do it. He did know, though, that he at least had to tell Katie the truth. He couldn't go running off-yes, running-without saying the things she wanted to hear about what she meant to him. And in the meantime . . .

Sam turned abruptly, one hand diving into his pocket for his keys, the other snagging his jacket off the hook by the door on his way out. Maybe Katie didn't need his help-he figured if she'd really been worried about this woman she'd have said so-but he wanted to be with her, anyway. Besides, that kid, Erik, had looked about as scared as he could get. If nothing else, he could lend a little friendly support to his neighbors.

Sam nearly collided with Katie's pickup at the place his drive met the old lake road. The pickup came bouncing into the turn, and Sam had to yank the Jeep off the road to avoid a collision. The pickup swerved, ending up with its front wheels in a deep rut and its back end blocking the road.

"Shhhhhit." Sam drew a steadying breath. But the breath caught in his throat as he recognized not Katie but Erik, jumping out of the cab and running toward him.

It was dark but for the beams of the two vehicles' headlights, the overcast sky making nightfall under the thick cover of leaves that much blacker. Sam didn't need to see the younger man's face, though, to know he was wild with panic. His voice was filled with it as he grabbed the door of the Jeep and gasped, "Kate said to tell you she needs you!"

"Jump in," Sam ordered. "You can get the truck later."

"Can't!" Erik shook his head. "Gotta get it off the road. Doc's coming. Probably the medevac crew, too, since the best place to land the chopper is-"

Sam didn't wait to hear what else Erik had to say. Throwing the Jeep into gear, he plowed through the underbrush to get around the disabled pickup. As he hit the road, he shouted to Erik, "Get that truck out of the way if you have to take it apart to do it!" And then he was flying.

"Katie! Where are you?" Sam stopped inside the front doorway of the derelict wooden building, listening for an answer.

It came, faintly, down the long hall that led past the stairs. "Here! At the back of the hall off the kitchen!"

He raced down the hallway, through the large kitchen, and into a narrow corridor of rooms. Slowing, he heard Katie speaking in that calm, gentle way she had, and he let her voice guide him toward the open door at the end of the corridor. As he approached, he heard her say, "Try to take it easy, Lynn. Pant as much as you can. I know it's hard, but-"

She broke off when he swung to a halt in the doorway, his hand gripping the frame. His gaze went straight to hers, locking briefly-long enough for him to read the fear in her dark eyes, fear he understood the instant his gaze fell upon the woman lying on the bed.

"G.o.d Almighty . . ." Nothing he'd faced before had prepared him for this. It wasn't only the blood- and there was enough of it, soaked into the pile of towels and gauze pads on the floor by the bed. It was seeing what should have been a natural, life-giving event turned into a nightmare. Mostly it was the helplessness, the utter vulnerability, of the young woman suffering the nightmare.

Quickly, Sam crossed the room, stopping at the foot of the bed, his hand going to Katie's shoulder to give her a gentle squeeze, though his gaze never left the young woman.

"Tell me . . ." he said quietly.

Katie murmured a response. "She's not in shock, but she's close. The baby's small, and he's coming fast, but I've been trying to hold her back from pushing because it seems to make the bleeding worse. But the baby's probably losing oxygen with the bleeding, and if I can't get him out soon, he's-"

"Give me a minute."

Moving slowly to the side of the bed, his gaze skimmed the young woman's blotchy face, the dark hair plastered to her head with sweat, the rounded belly that even to him didn't look as big as it should be. She couldn't have been a day over twenty, and as he saw her face contort with pain and effort, as he listened to the sounds coming from deep within as she worked to give birth, it occurred to him that he was being given yet another lesson in courage today.

Suddenly, she went all-over limp, her breath rushing out and her face turning ghostly pale. When her dark blue eyes opened and she saw him standing over her, she drew a quick breath, her look instantly becoming wary.

Careful, he thought. You can't go bulldozing your way into this one. She might be bleeding to death, but if you want to help her, you're going to have to win her first.

"Who . . . Kate?" Her hand fluttered in embarra.s.sment over the blanket covering her from shoulders to hips.

"It's all right, Lynn," Kate put in quickly. "This is Sam. He's a friend of mine, and he was in the Navy medical corps, so he's going to help me. Okay?"

The medical corps? That was a good one. He shot Katie a quick glance, but she didn't meet his gaze.

Making sure he kept his eyes glued to Lynn's face-not wanting her to be any more embarra.s.sed than she obviously was at having a strange man see her in this state-he folded a leg beneath him to sit at her right side, his hand covering hers where it was clutching the sheet. "Hi, there, Lynn. You've been having a bad time of it, haven't you? But Katie and I are going to take care of things, now."

Her frightened gaze searched his face. "Where's Erik?"

"He's down the road, waiting for Doc." Carefully moving a hand to her brow, he smoothed the hair out of her eyes. "He'll be back soon, and meantime-"

He broke off when her eyes glazed; a second later, she squeezed them shut and let out a hoa.r.s.e groan, her back curling forward. The instant the contraction hit, he saw the trickle of blood coming out of her become a stream. And his response to the sight of it was as instinctive as hers had been to the contraction. Without volition, he slid his hand lightly across her rounded belly, over the blanket at first, then slipping under the edge until he was feeling her tight, smooth skin.

Watching her face closely, he said, "Easy. Easy, now. Does it hurt to be touched like this?"

"No," she croaked, her eyes still tightly closed. "Feels . . . nice, but . . . Oh, G.o.d. How can it . . . feel good when . . . it hurts so much?"

"Well, I don't know," he answered, his fingers feathering over her, seeking the source of the bleeding. "Ladies have told me it does, though."

"You . . . you've seen other . . . babies born?"

"Hmm, a couple dozen, I guess. In Nam, you know. There was a lot of this sort of thing going around over there."

It was a ridiculous lie, but it was the first thing that came to him. And it was enough to rea.s.sure her so she could stop worrying about him and put what little energy she had into push-ing-and he could do what he had to do.

His palm was already tingling as it slid downward, like a divining rod seeking water, until it settled over the lower curve of her belly. Immediately, his head started to swim, and his heartbeat slowed to pound in a steady rhythm. Within seconds, the beat of it filled his senses. His breath escaped, his eyes drifted closed . . . and he let it come.

The heat: the bright, burning heat. Let it take over his being . . . let it crowd out any thought or wish or need of his own . . . let it flood the banks of his soul until it filled every part of him, until he was lost in it and had no sense of being separate from it. He was the channel, the opening between this plane and the next, the tunnel through which, in this place, at this moment in time, the river of fiery light could flow.

And it flowed out of him, out of his hands, into the body of a woman he didn't know. Didn't need to know. The life was draining out of her, her spirit floating lightly inside her flesh, clinging to her weakening body in a courageous effort to hold on. Her will to live was strong. She grabbed at what he offered her, and a part of him, the part that remained conscious of physical realities, heard her growl with the powerful energy that infused her. She used it, put it instantly to work.

He felt the heat begin to wane, his cue that his work was finished, and he started to back off. But, suddenly, a warning signal went off somewhere inside him. It wasn't over. Her body was healed-and then it wasn't. And for a moment, he was confused.

"Katie?" His eyes opened, and he looked at her. "I don't . . . It keeps . . ."

Her brown eyes focused on his for an instant or two, then she murmured, "It keeps tearing?"

"Yes."

"You probably won't be able to stop that. But if you can control the bleeding like this . . ."

"Yes." He didn't know what she was talking about, but somehow her words made sense. Still, there was something that didn't make sense. He hesitated, his eyes losing focus as he let himself be drawn back to that other place . . . staying there for a moment, trying to puzzle it out. . . . Then, blinking alittle to refocus, he met Katie's gaze again.

"Could there be . . . another place? Something . . . disconnected? Something I can't get to, like . . ." He didn't know how to say it-but, again, he didn't need to.

Understanding-and a spark of fear-flashed through her eyes, and she spoke quickly to Lynn. "Come on, now, Lynn. Let's do it this time. Let's get this baby born. One good push. One more. He's coming fast. Push him out. . . ."

Sam's eyes closed again, but he took Katie's voice with him, let her become part of the bond, let her guide him as she guided Lynn. . . .

"That's it. Keep pushing, sweetie. That's it. . . . A little more. . . . I've got one shoulder. Now, don't let up. Keep pushing. That's it! Oh, Lynn, you did it! You've got a little boy!"

"Is he . . . ?"

"Hang on a sec."

Sam felt the change instantly-felt the draining sensation lessen, felt it ease off with the slowing of the blood, until, a moment or two later, the bleeding stopped and, without conscious effort on his part, his senses came back under his own control.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes were the tears hovering on Katie's dark lashes as she clamped the thick cord attached to the incredibly tiny wet body lying in her lap.

"Katie," he began, "do I need to-"

"No." She swiftly covered the baby with a blanket, at the same time she worked to suction his mouth and nose. "The clamp does it. He was bleeding through the cord." Then, in a whisper, she added, "Come on, little one, do it for me."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lynn trying to elbow her way up to see, and he put a gentle hand on her shoulder, saying, "Take it easy, sweetheart. Let Katie get him going." Take my word for it-you don't want to see him yet.

But the seconds ticked by, and the baby didn't respond to Katie's vigorous efforts-and Sam wondered if Lynn might end up having to look at her boy in this lifeless state. Reaching over, he placed a hand on the baby's wet head, knowing it was useless; he wouldn't be able to heal what hadn't yet grown enough to live on its own. After a few seconds, when there was no intuitive stirring inside him, he raised his gaze to meet Katie's, letting his eyes give her the answer.