A Baby in the Bunkhouse. Cathy Gillen Thacker

and son exchanged concerned glances she wished she hadn’t seen. “Let us know if you need anything.” Eli directed the cowboys out, and the door shut behind them.

      Jacey and Rafferty were alone, and Rafferty looked about as happy with the situation as she was.

      He punched in a number, stated he was going to be the one delivering the baby, then listened intently. “This your first baby?” he asked Jacey.

      “Yes.”

      “Then we’re probably going to have plenty of time.”

      Rafferty went back to talking on the phone, absorbed what sounded like a slew of in-case-things-do-get-out-of-hand instructions. Promising to call back if he needed further instructions, he hung up and opened the bedroom door. “Get me a stack of clean towels and something to wrap the baby in!” he called.

      The cowboys milling nervously about jumped to attention. Mere seconds later clean linens were shoved into Rafferty’s arms.

      “Boil a pair of scissors and some string. I want ’em sterile,” he barked before shutting the door and striding back to the narrow twin bed. Despite his lack of experience, he carried himself with a gunslinger’s confidence, which, oddly enough, made her want to kick him in the shin. Perverse as it might be, she wanted him to feel as panicked and out of control as she did. She wanted them to be on a level playing field.

      A glint of humor in his blue eyes, he surveyed her mussed hair and flushed cheeks. “Want a bullet to bite on?”

      “Very funny,” she panted.

      “Whiskey to kill the pain?”

      “You’re a laugh riot.” Tears streamed down her face. “All those wonderful delivery-room drugs would probably help just about now.”

      “I’m sure they’ll give you a shot of whatever as soon as the EMS gets here. Meanwhile—” he dragged the ladderback chair over to the end of the bed “—we’re going to have to get you better situated.” He patted the end of the mattress. “So you’re going to have to scoot down to the end.”

      With her whole body wrapped in a vise? Suddenly, she was trembling from head to toe. “I don’t th-th-think I c-can.”

      “I’ll help you.” Gentle, reassuring now, he put his warm, strong hands beneath her, then shifted her bottom to the end of the mattress. He slipped onto the seat of the chair, positioning her legs so her knees were raised, her feet flat on the mattress. He lifted her again, held her there with one hand and spread two clean towels out beneath her.

      Another wave of intense pressure rocked Jacey’s frame. Was it her imagination or could she literally feel the baby bump moving lower…? “I know it doesn’t seem possible…but I r-r-really think I f-f-f-eel the head.”

      “Only one way to find out.” He was so calm and matter-of-fact they might have been talking about the weather. “We’ll take a look, see how far your cervix is dilated.”

      “Guess those veterinary classes are coming in handy.”

      “Now who’s the smart-ass?”

      Grinning, she had a feeling he’d be a fun guy to spar with. Under other circumstances…She sucked in a breath as another contraction gripped her.

      The look on his face as he checked out the situation confirmed her worst suspicions and the reason for her distress.

      “You need to call for help again?”

      All business, Rafferty shook his head. “No time.”

      No time?

      “Hang in there, Jacey.” His voice was as warm as his touch. “We can do this.”

      Suddenly, with him by her side…she felt as if they could.

      He remained focused on the task ahead. “I’m going to have to touch you.” He applied a very gentle counterpressure to her perineum that made her feel as though things were getting back into control, however slightly. “And you’re going to need to pant or blow through the contractions. Just don’t push. Not yet. I’ll tell you when.”

      Marshaling every bit of self-control she had, she fought through the excruciating pain and did as instructed.

      “I can see the head. It’s coming out…nice and slow…which is good. We don’t want to rush anything. Wait! I’ve got to unhook this loop of umbilical cord from around the baby’s neck.”

      Jacey sucked in a breath and went as still as possible, not even daring to breathe.

      “Easy does it,” he murmured as he gently worked the cord over the baby’s head. “Okay, we’re good to go,” he said with a smile. She felt the backs of Rafferty’s hands brush against her spread thighs as he took the baby’s head in both his palms. “Now push! We’ve got a shoulder…an upper arm…! Another shoulder and…a baby!” he declared triumphantly.

      Jacey felt a whoosh as the infant slipped completely free of her body. Another rush of fluid. Incredibly happy and at peace, she watched as Rafferty cleared the mouth of mucus and held the squirming, squalling baby aloft so she could see.

      A LUMP CLOGGED Rafferty’s throat as the baby let out one lusty cry after another. A cheer went up on the other side of the door that paired nicely with Jacey’s exultant cry as she met her infant daughter for the first time. “Hello, Caitlin, my sweet baby girl,” she whispered, happy tears streaming down her face.

      “Congratulations,” he said gruffly, pushing aside memories of another place, another time and life that had been cruelly taken away.

      He wrapped the pink, squalling baby in a towel and handed Caitlin to her mother.

      Too overwhelmed to do more than nod, tears of joy streaming down her face, Jacey cradled the newborn close to her chest. Forcing himself to rein in the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him, too, Rafferty returned to the end of the bed and concentrated on the task still at hand. Tears pricked the back of his eyes. Determinedly, he willed them away. “Anyone you want to call?” he asked in the most impersonal tone he could manage.

      Abruptly, Jacey went very still. “If you’re asking about a…husband…”

      He was.

      As reluctant as he was to imagine her with any other guy, he didn’t want her to be alone, either.

      “I don’t have one.”

      Rafferty should have figured that would be the case, given how independent she was. He checked, saw the afterbirth still attached to the umbilical cord, well on its way.

      He went to the door. Got the sterilized scissors and string from the cowboys on the other side. Shut it again. “Baby daddy then,” he prompted.

      Blissfully entranced with the quieting bundle in her arms, Jacey shook her head, replied softly, “Don’t have one of those either.”

      Rafferty checked out her left hand. Sure enough, it bore no wedding ring.

      Which meant what? The baby’s father had abandoned her? Died? Was around but chose not to be involved? Her expression gave no clue. And in fact, she seemed defiantly determined not to discuss it with him.

      He figured that was her right. He didn’t want to talk about his personal life, either. Still, there had to be somebody who cared, someone to notify.

      “Family then,” he insisted matter-of-factly. With the placenta out, Rafferty was free to tie off and then cut the umbilical cord. Finished, he tucked the towel in around the baby once again, keeping the newborn warm.

      “I’ve got a sister in El Paso whow as supposed to be my labor-and-delivery coach. I’ll call her after we get to the hospital.”

      Without warning, there was a thump thump thump of an approaching chopper.

      “Sounds like the Medevac team is here,” Rafferty said.