LITMIR.BIZ

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      “It’s something a woman’s body does when she’s almost ready to have a baby,” Tricia explained.

      “Are you having the babies tonight?” she asked, big blue eyes wide. “I thought they weren’t supposed to be here until after Christmas.”

      “I hope not,” Tricia answered. “Sometimes I guess you have practice contractions. I’m sure that’s what these are.”

      For the first time, she started to look uneasy and Devin knew she needed to take control of the situation.

      “I don’t want to send you up to Obstetrics until we take a look at the ankle. We can hook up all the fetal monitoring equipment down here in the emergency department to see what’s going on and put your minds at ease.”

      “Thanks. I’m sure everything’s fine. I’m going to be embarrassed for worrying everyone.”

      “Never worry about that,” Devin assured her.

      “I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to get some information so we can enter it into the computer and make an ID band.” Brittney Calloway, the receptionist, stepped forward, clipboard in hand.

      “My insurance information is in my purse,” Tricia said. “Cole, can you find it and give her what she needs?”

      He looked as if he didn’t want to leave his sister’s side but the little boy was already looking bored.

      Whose were they? The girl looked to be about eight, blonde and ethereal like Tricia but with Cole’s blue eyes, and the boy was a few years younger with darker coloring and big brown eyes.

      She hadn’t heard the man had kids—in fact, as far as she knew, he had lived alone at Evergreen Springs the past two years since his grandmother died.

      “You can come back to the examination room after you’re done out here, or you can stay out in the waiting room.”

      He looked at the children and then back at his sister, obviously torn. “We’ll wait out here, if you think you’ll be okay.”

      “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’m sorry to be such a pain.”

      He gave his sister a soft, affectionate smile that would have made Devin’s knees go weak, if she weren’t made of sterner stuff. “You’re not a pain. You’re just stubborn,” he said gruffly. “You should have called me the minute you fell instead of waiting until I came back to the house and you definitely should have said something about the contractions.”

      “We’ll take care of her and try to keep you posted.”

      “Thanks.” He nodded and shepherded the two children to the small waiting room, with his sister’s purse in hand.

      Devin forced herself to put him out of her mind and focus on her patient.

      Normally, the nurses and aides would take a patient into a room and start a chart but since she knew Tricia and the night was slow, Devin didn’t mind coming into her care from the beginning.

      “You’re thirty-three weeks?” she asked as she pushed her into the largest exam room in the department.

      “Almost thirty-four. Tuesday.”

      “With twins. Congratulations. Are they fraternal or identical?”

      “Fraternal. A boy and a girl. The girl is measuring bigger, according to my ob-gyn back in California.”

      “Did your OB clear you for travel this close to your due date?”

      “Yes. Everything has been uncomplicated. A textbook pregnancy, Dr. Adams said.”

      “When was your last appointment?”

      “I saw my regular doctor the morning before Thanksgiving. She knew I was flying out to spend the holiday with Cole and the kids. I was supposed to be back the next Sunday, but, well, I decided to stay.”

      She paused and her chin started to quiver. “Everything is such a mess and I can’t go home and now I’ve sprained my ankle. How am I going to get around on crutches when I’m as big as a barn?”

      Something else was going on here, something that had nothing to do with sprained ankles. Why couldn’t she go home? Devin squeezed her hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

      “No. You’re right.” Tricia drew a breath. When she spoke her voice only wobbled a little. “I have an appointment Monday for a checkup with a local doctor. Randall or Crandall or something like that. I can’t remember. I just know my records have been transferred there.”

      “Randall. Jim Randall.”

      He was one of her favorite colleagues in the area, compassionate and kind and more than competent. Whenever she had a complicated obstetrics patient in her family medicine practice, she sent her to Jim.

      As Devin guided Tricia from the wheelchair to the narrow bed in the room, the pregnant woman paused on the edge, her hand curved around her abdomen and her face contorted with pain. She drew in a sharp breath and let it out slowly. “Ow. That was a big one.”

      And not far apart from the first contraction she’d had a few minutes earlier, Devin thought in concern, her priorities shifting as Callie came in. “Here we are. This is Callie. She’s an amazing nurse and right now she’s going to gather some basic information and help you into a gown. I’ll be back when she’s done to take a look at things.”

      Tricia grabbed her hand. “You’ll be back?”

      “In just a moment, I promise. I’m going to write orders for the X-ray and the fetal heartbeat monitoring and put a call in to Dr. Randall. I’ll also order some basic urine and blood tests, too, then I’ll be right back.”

      “Okay. Okay.” Tricia gave a wobbly smile. “Thanks. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re here.”

      “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

      * * *

      HE TRULY DETESTED HOSPITALS.

      Cole shifted in the uncomfortable chair, his gaze on the little Christmas tree in the corner with its colorful lights and garland made out of rolled bandages.

      Given the setting and the time of year, it was hard not to flash back to that miserable Christmas he was eleven, when his mother lay dying. That last week of her life, Stan had taken him and Tricia to the hospital just about every evening. They would sit in the waiting room near a pitiful little Christmas tree like this one and do homework or read or just gaze out the window at the falling snow in the moonlight, scared and sad and a little numb after months of their mother’s chemotherapy and radiation.

      He pushed away the memory, especially of all that came after, choosing instead to focus on the two good things that had come from hospitals: his kids, though he had only been there for Jazmyn’s birth.

      He could still remember walking through the halls and wanting to stop everybody there and share a drink with them and tell them about his beautiful new baby girl.

      Emphasis on the part about sharing a drink. He sighed. By the time Sharla went into labor with Ty, things had been so terrible between them that she hadn’t even told him the kid was on the way.

      “I’m bored,” the kid in question announced. “There’s nothing to do.”

      Cole pointed to the small flat-screen TV hanging on the wall, showing some kind of talking heads on a muted news program. “Want to watch something? I’m sure we could find the remote somewhere. I can ask at the desk.”

      “I bet there’s nothing on.” Jazmyn slumped in her seat.

      “Let’s take a look. Maybe we could find a Christmas special or something.”

      Neither kid looked particularly enthusiastic but he headed over to the reception desk in search of a remote.

      The

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