Her Best Christmas Ever. Judy Duarte

hoped the handsome singer was up for the task.

      As Greg prepared to deliver Connie’s baby, his movements grew stiff and awkward. The sweat beaded upon his brow, and he used his arm to wipe it away.

      Damn. The guys in the band were never going to believe this. Hell, he didn’t believe it. If his hands weren’t busy, he’d pinch himself.

      His cell phone was lying beside him, set on speaker, as Doc Graham talked him through the scariest, most nerve-racking night of his life.

      He glanced at Connie, her expression set in a grimace, her face red as she did her best to push her baby into the world.

      Was this how Father Gregorio felt when Greg’s mother had been giving birth? Scared spitless? Completely out of his league?

      The fact that his mom had died in childbirth was enough to spike his spinal fluid with ice water, but he shook off the nervous fear and focused on the task at hand. He had to help Connie have her baby whether he wanted to or not.

      “The head is out,” Greg told both Doc and Connie, as he followed the directions of the experienced country doctor.

      Moments later, the baby slid into his hands. His own breath held as he waited for it to cry, to breathe. As the tiny little girl let out a wail that pierced the silence and announced her arrival, he blew out a huge sigh of relief.

      His movements were almost robotic, but he did everything Doc told him to do, step by scary step. And as the minutes ticked away, as everything proceeded the way Doc said that it would, wonder overcame the fear that had been dogging him since Connie’s labor had started and the birth became imminent.

      After he cleaned up the screaming, flailing baby girl, he bundled her in flannel like a little burrito and handed her to her mother.

      Connie, with tears streaming down her face, took the baby from him and cooed at her. “Hello, sweetheart.Welcome to the world.”

      Asense of awewashed over Greg, and he found himself experiencing an unprecedented high, a mind-boggling sense of wonder.

      “Oh, my God.” Connie looked up from the newborn long enough to latch onto Greg’s gaze. “Look at her.”

      He had been looking. And while the tiny little newborn was scrawny and wrinkly and gooey and had an uncanny resemblance to E.T., the extra-terrestrial, he couldn’t help thinking she was the cutest little alien he’d ever seen.

      “She’s beautiful,” he told Connie. “Are you still going to call her Amanda?”

      “I don’t know. Does she look like an Isabella to you?”

      She was asking him for an opinion? “It sounds like an awfully big name for a little baby, but I guess she’ll grow into it.”

      “I could nickname her Bella. Or Izzy.”

      Greg looked at the little flannel-wrapped cherub, at the rosebud mouth, the wispy dark hair.

      “Not Izzy,” he said, thinking of a ton of rhyming words that kids might use to tease her, Dizzy or Frizzy or Lizzy Lizard. Kids could be thoughtless, he’d learned. And cruel. “But Belle or Bella suits her. Either one would make a good name for a little princess.”

      Then he tore his gaze away from the mother and child, doing whatever he could to make Connie more comfortable.

      Yet even when his job appeared to be nearly over, when he finally had an excuse to close the door and leave them to rest, he hadn’t been able to do so. Instead, he kept looking for reasons to stick around.

      Had he really been the first human to touch that baby girl? The one to cut and tie the cord?

      He sat in silence for the longest time, basking in a slew of emotions he couldn’t quite peg. Feelings he’d never experienced, never expected to.

      As he got to his feet, he continued to watch them like some kind of voyeur. Or maybe he’d taken on a protector role. Either way, he couldn’t help feeling a bit envious.

      Not that he expected to bond with the new little family of two; he’d done his part and could now go on his way. But as Connie whispered loving words to her new daughter, he found her voice soft and mesmerizing, the sight warm and touching.

      When the baby looked at her with eyes that crossed, Greg damn near choked up. Again, he wondered if he really ought to be privy to this special moment, yet he was unable to move.

      Awed by what he’d just seen, he was also caught up in admiration for thewoman who’d bravely fought pain and fear to bring her newborn daughter into the world, a woman who now bore a maternal glow and a mesmerizing beauty he couldn’t explain.

      Connie, who cuddled her infant daughter in her arms, looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you, Greg. I don’t know what I would have done without you here.”

      “It was no big deal,” he said.

      But it had been bigger than big. It had been huge.

      He didn’t think he’d ever forget this moment. He’d witnessed a miracle, and what had once seemed like the worst night of his life had somehow become one of the best.

      The kind of night that made a musician want to grab his guitar and sit up until dawn, trying to re-create a memory in song.

       Chapter Three

      The telephone rang shortly before daybreak, and Greg snatched it from its cradle so the noise wouldn’t wake Connie or the baby.

      They were both resting now, and he wanted to keep it that way. Connie had been through hell the past couple of hours and a peaceful rest had been well earned.

      “Hello?” he whispered into the receiver.

      The age-worn voice boomed over the line. “It’s Doc Graham. How’s our patient doing?”

      “Okay. She and the baby are both asleep.”

      Of course, that in itself didn’t mean that everything was fine, which was why Greg kept checking in on them every few minutes. He wanted to make sure they were still breathing and that their coloring was good.

      “But I’ll sure feel better when you get here,” he told the doctor. “Then you can validate my diagnosis.”

      “Itwon’t be long,” Doc said. “I’ve just driven past that lowspot in the road and should be at the ranch in about five or ten minutes.”

      “Good.” Knowing Doc the way he did, Greg figured he’d been parked near the flooded area and had driven through the moment he believed it was safe.

      “By the way,” Doc added, “you did a great job.”

      Greg didn’t know about that. Connie and the baby had done all the work, so he didn’t feel right taking credit for the minor role he played. “I didn’t do all that much. I’m just thankful there weren’t any complications.”

      “Me, too. How are you holding up, son?”

      “All right.” Especially now that it was all over.

      “I’m sure it’s been a long night, so you’ve got to be tired. As soon as I get there, you can go to bed.”

      Actually, Greg didn’t feel the least bit sleepy. Ever since the baby’s birth, he’d had a head-in-the-clouds buzz, one that didn’t appear to be fading in the least.

      “Well,” Doc said over the slightly static telephone line, “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

      “All right.” Greg hung up, but his hand remained on the receiver. For the first time since Connie’s water had broken, he finally felt a sense of relief, and it dogged him into the kitchen, where he put on a pot of coffee.

      Yet instead of taking a seat or watching out the window for Doc to arrive,