Righteous Lies (Book 1: Dancing Moon Ranch Series) (21 page)

Grace released
her breath as a contraction subsided—a reminder that she might have managed to
drift off for a couple of minutes out of pure exhaustion, but there was still a
baby on the way. "I guess I had a dream," she said, deciding to put
it off a little longer.

But Jack was
wide awake and watching her, and she suspected he was beginning to put things
together. Which he did when a contraction hit and she bit her lip to try to get
through it. But she couldn't stop her hand from pressing against her belly, or
the moan that accompanied it.

Jack put his
palm to her belly, and said, "You're having contractions."

Grace nodded.
"Nothing to get excited about. Their still three minutes apart."

"What!"

"Hush,"
Grace said. "You don’t need to announce it to everyone."

Jack climbed
over her and headed down the aisle. Immediately afterwards, a flight attendant
bent over Grace, and said, "How close are your contractions?"

Grace looked up
at the woman, and replied, "Maybe three minutes. We're still scheduled to
arrive just after seven aren't we?"

The woman
nodded. "We'll be landing in forty-five minutes. I'll call and have an
ambulance waiting on the tarmac when we arrive."

"That
might be a good idea," Grace replied, feeling sharp pains in her back and
increasing pressure down low. Turning to Jack, she said, "I need to go to
the bathroom. Fast!" She stood. And immediately felt pressure unlike
anything she'd felt before. "Something's wrong," she said. "I
feel like he's about to come out."

"Let's
go." Jack took her arm and they shuffled down the aisle to the restroom.
When Grace opened the door, Jack came in with her and she didn't protest. But
the moment she sat on the toilet, she felt a rush of water.

"Oh
hell," Jack said. "Your water just broke."

Jack helped
Grace back to her seat, but as much as she wanted to rest, she wanted to walk
more. It hurt her back to sit, and walking eased it. Her contractions were less
than three minutes apart now, and it was still ten minutes before touchdown...

By now,
everyone on the plane knew she was about to give birth. And all Grace could
think of was getting through the next contraction. Jack put the armrest up
between the seats, and each time a contraction came, Grace moved between
sitting, and laying curled on her side, and getting up and walking the length
of the aisle with Jack holding onto her. She was at the far end of the aisle, and
feeling increasing pressure, when the
fasten
seat belts
light flashed on.

"Hold on,
honey," Jack said. He picked Grace up and carried her back to her seat.

"I can
hold onto you," Grace replied, "but I don't know about Adam."

"There's
an ambulance on the tarmac," Jack said. "They can deliver him there."

"If I make
it to the ambulance," Grace muttered then gripped the armrest as another
contraction began to build. While she clenched her jaws, and gripped Jack's
hand, and moaned, and even let out a little expletive, the plane made a wide
circle, and when it banked before making the approach, Grace could see the
parallel lights of the runway in the distance. Moments later, she heard the
welcoming squeal of tires on the runway, and knew the plane had touched down.
It taxied to the gate and the engines died.

The instant the
seat belt light blinked off, Jack unfastened Grace's belt, lifted her out of
the seat and carried her down the aisle to the cheers of overjoyed passengers,
then waited with her in his arms for what seemed like hours until the door finally
ground open. Attendants with a wheelchair were waiting, and moments later, they
whisked her and their carryon bags to an ambulance waiting with lights flashing.
As soon as Grace was strapped to a stretcher, with Jack beside her holding her
hand, sirens pulsated and the ambulance sped off.

At the hospital,
although pre-registered, Grace still had to sign for the cord blood collection
kit that had been delivered by the lab. Between contractions she read about the
procedure then signed several papers and was rushed to a triage room to be
checked. When a nurse announced she was dilated three centimeters, Grace said,
with shock and annoyance, "After twelve hours of labor, that's it? Three
lousy centimeters?"

"Twelve
hours?" Jack looked at Grace. "I thought the contractions started on
the plane."

"Actually,
they started this morning," Grace admitted then grimaced as a contraction
began to build. After the pain passed, the nurse drew blood and wheeled Grace,
with Jack trailing behind, to a labor room, where the nurse helped Grace into a
gown and hooked her up to a fetal heart rate monitor, which showed the baby was
doing well.

"You'll be
here a while," the nurse said, and left.

"Twelve
hours," Jack said, pedantically. "Why didn't you tell me you were in
labor?"

"You
wouldn't have let me fly," Grace replied.

Jack looked at
her, his face sober, and said, "Is this going to be a pattern in our
marriage?"

"Well, not
a pattern," Grace replied, "but I didn't know what you'd do, and I
wanted to have the baby here for Ricky." She also knew Jack was setting
the first parameters for their marriage.

Jack took her
hand, and said, while looking down at her, "Honey, this is about trust and
honesty. You have to have some faith in me now. I'm your husband, and I'll be
with you for the rest of our lives." And Grace knew Jack truly meant it.

It hit her then
that she was really married to Jack, husband and wife, for better or for worse,
in sickness and in health, and when Jack made his vows, he'd meant every word
of them, except perhaps the
to love
part, which she was certain he planned to work on until it was a reality.

"I'm
sorry," she said, looking up at him through a mist of tears. Tears of joy
that she had Jack as her husband and he intended to stay by her, and tears of
anger with herself for not putting her faith in a man she knew innately would
be devoted to his family. "I guess I should have said something. But I was
afraid you wouldn't let me come here."

"I
wouldn't have," Jack said. "Your welfare and the welfare of our son
is more important. But it's done now. I just want us to get off on the right
foot." He bent over and went to kiss her on the cheek, but she turned
quickly and her lips met his.

She put her
arms around his neck and started to steal a second kiss when a contraction hit.
Hard. Removing her arms from around him, she gripped his hand and held her
breath...

"Breathe,
honey," Jack reminded her. He started breathing with her, as he'd been
instructed in class, and for some reason it seemed to help, that and having
Jack's hand to hold onto, and his other hand stroking her hair, and his dark
eyes, intense with concern, looking down at her.

For the next
two hours she became so focused on breathing through contractions, while
gripping Jack's hand, she couldn't concentrate on anything else. But with each
contraction, she knew she was that much closer to seeing the baby who'd been
growing inside her for nine months. Jack's son. Their little Adam, who she
hoped would be a clone of his dad in every way.

Sometime later,
the nurse asked Jack to time contractions, which he did. But after a while,
Jack said to Grace, "Instead of your contractions starting farther apart
and getting closer, they're coming at odd intervals. I'm calling the
nurse."
Which he did.

"The
baby's heartbeat's strong and steady," the nurse announced, when she
checked the fetal monitor. "A healthy baby who doesn't seem to mind at all
staying where he is."

Grace braced
for the next contraction and clutched Jack's hand, knowing the crushing
pressure in her pelvis would be worse. After bearing through it, certain she
must finally be at ten, the nurse checked her, and said, "Yup, you're at
four," and walked out.

Two hours
later, when she'd still made little progress, the nurse came in, rolling an IV
bag, and said, "His heart rate's a little low. The doctor wants to put
more fluid in you."

Jack looked at
the nurse in alarm. "What do you mean his heart rate's low?"

"Nothing
to be concerned about," the nurse assured them. "Fluids help
dilation."

Until then,
Grace had been in drug-free labor, but she was exhausted, and even though she'd
made it through six hours of hard labor she'd made no progress, and she was
getting discouraged.

"We're not
sure why your wife isn't dilating," Grace heard the doctor tell Jack, a
little later. "I suspect the baby's stuck because of his size and your
wife's small pelvic opening, and maybe he's face up. We'll wait a little
longer, but then we'll either have to go for a C-section or give her an
epidural so she can relax, get some sleep, and try pushing harder." The
doctor gave Grace's arm a comforting pat and left the room.

Grace closed
her eyes, and when she did, tears collected and emerged beneath her lashes. She
felt Jack's hand on her face, and she looked up at him through a mist of tears,
and said, "I don't want an epidural. It's bad for the baby."

"Honey,
you're exhausted, you're in pain, and you're scaring the hell out of me,"
Jack said. "The doctor told me the epidural would let you relax enough so
your cervix could finish dilating. Right now you're too tense during
contractions for it to happen."

"But I
wanted to do this all natural. No drugs. No epidural. No episiotomy. And
now..."

"Now you
need something to relax you so Adam can have a smooth ride home," Jack
said. "Do it for him. Do it for our son."

For some
reason, Jack's words made it seem right. Grace gave him a faltering smile, and
said, "I guess you can tell the nurse that—" Another contraction hit.

Forty-five
minutes later, when Grace finally reached nine centimeters, the
anesthesiologist came in to administer the epidural, and after that the pains
gradually decreased. Within an hour, a nurse came in to check, and said, "You're
at ten and ninety percent effaced. It's time to go to the delivery room and
have a baby."

In the delivery
room the doctor told Grace to start pushing, which made her very anxious. She'd
failed at pushing before. If it didn't work this time, she'd have to have the
C-section.

Seeing her
worry, Jack took her hand, raised it to his mouth and kissed it, and said,
"We're going to have our baby, one way or another, honey. You're doing
fine."

And she started
pushing again...

But now, when
the contractions came, she felt no pain.

Jack kept
looking from her to what the doctor was doing, and Grace knew he was uncertain
whether to stay where he could hold her hand and look at her, or watch the
progress below. She relieved his mind by saying, "I'm fine, no pain. Go
watch your son come into the world."

Jack squeezed
her hand and replied, "You sure, honey?"

"Very
sure," Grace said. Then she looked over her belly and said to the doctor,
"Would it be possible for my husband to catch our son when he comes? He's
was planning on doing it when I was going to have him at the birthing center at
home. It would mean a lot to both of us."

The doctor
looked at her, and replied, "We'll have to wait and see."

"But
there's a chance he could?" Grace ventured.

The doctor
smiled. "If your son doesn't pull any surprises, yes."

Feeling a sense
of relief, Grace started pushing... And pushing... And pushing. But the baby
still seemed to be stuck. She heard the doctor mumbling something to Jack about
the head being positioned at an odd angle, but she didn't have time to dwell on
that because the contractions were coming fast, and there wasn't much break
between pushes...

And then she
heard the doctor announce, "He's coming."

And Jack say,
"He's got hair!"

Which made
Grace laugh. Most of the babies in her family were born bald.

"He's
okay," the doctor said. "Normal. Face down. Move on over, Dad,"
he said to Jack, "and get ready to receive your son." Grace saw the
doctor glide over on his stool and Jack move in place, and although she wanted
to rest, the doctor said to her, "Keep pushing, he's almost out... one
more push..." And then it was over...

"Oh, my
God," she heard Jack say. "He's perfect." And when he looked at
Grace, she saw tears streaming down Jack's face.

And then she
heard her baby cry... One of the most incredible moments of her life...

The nurse took
him from Jack's hands and placed him on Grace's chest, while the doctor clamped
the cord and removed the cord blood with a syringe for placing it in the blood
bag for the lab. After the doctor was through, he said to Grace, "One more
push. You still have a placenta to get rid of..."

But Grace
barely remembered pushing because Jack was back holding her hand and saying to
her, "He's perfect, honey. Just like you said. A perfect baby Adam. And
he's definitely well hung." He smiled broadly.

"Men!"
Grace said, and grinned up at Jack.

While the
doctor stitched her up—Grace never knew when he did the episiotomy—the nurse
suctioned and cleaned the baby, then weighed and measured him, announcing,
"Ten pounds, four ounces... twenty-two inches long. And his name?"
The nurse looked at Grace and waited.

Grace hoped
Jack wouldn't object to the middle name she'd added, as she said, "Adam
Jackson Hansen," then smiled at Jack, who gave a little wink of approval.

A few minutes
later, when the nurse handed Grace a baby wrapped in a warm flannel blanket,
beautiful and alert, and with a full head of dark hair, and Grace saw the
expression on Jack's face as he smiled down at his newborn son, Grace knew it
was all worthwhile, that she'd do it again in a heartbeat.