A Mummy For His Baby. Molly Evans

used to be. Nothing.

      Today she was calling on an old friend to help put her life back together, one aching bone at a time.

      The sign for the local medical clinic was a red arrow, pointing to a door. Until a few months ago there had been no medical clinic in Brush Valley. The closest one had been miles away. So it was understandable that this building didn’t quite look like it was a thriving business just yet.

      It looked like the building had once belonged to an animal doctor instead of a people doctor. Faded paint indicated dogs to the left, cats to the right. She didn’t know which one to take, but since she was more of a dog person she entered through the left door. Fortunately both doors opened into the lobby of the clinic, which was nearly deserted.

      “Good morning, can I help you?” A woman in an advanced stage of pregnancy smiled and offered her a clipboard to sign in.

      “Yes. I have an appointment.”

      “Okay, great.” She looked at Aurora’s name, then frowned. “Are you related to Sally Hunt?”

      “Yes, she’s my mother.”

      “Oh, then you must have grown up here!” She held out her hand. “I’m Cathy Carter. I think I went to school just after you.”

      “Oh...great to meet you.”

      Though Aurora didn’t recall everyone who had gone to school around the time she had, the woman did look vaguely familiar, with her big brown eyes and long brown hair.

      “I’m sure you don’t remember me.” She patted her belly. “I looked much different back then.”

      That made Aurora laugh. “Didn’t we all? Nice to see you again.”

      “Have a seat and he’ll be with you in a few minutes. Just one patient ahead of you.” Cathy nodded to a young woman with a sniffling infant, pacing the small waiting room.

      “No problem.”

      “Angie, why don’t you bring Zachary back and we’ll have a look at him now?” Laboriously, Cathy rose from the chair and followed the mom and baby into the first exam room.

      Aurora felt sorry for the woman, who looked like she was carrying a watermelon beneath her clothing. But although Cathy looked uncomfortable, she also looked happy, and there was something to be said about that.

      While Aurora waited she paced the length of the waiting room as sitting caused her too much pain. As she moved back and forth, trying to keep her joints moving, she noticed a bulletin board, with notices for parents, and a table full of retirement magazines. There was a section of toys for little kids, but nothing for anyone else. It was a sparse attempt to keep those who were waiting entertained. These days, with all the electronic devices and people being plugged in, the corner looked lacking, without at least one charger available.

      “Aurora?” Cathy called her to the desk. “I can take you back and get you in a patient room, take your vitals, while Beau—I mean Dr. Gutterman—looks at his other patient.”

      “Oh, you can call him Beau. I know when we’re behind the desk we all go on a first-name basis.”

      “That’s right. You’re a nurse, too, aren’t you?”

      “Well, yes.” At least she had been. She didn’t want to say that she wasn’t a nurse any longer. Just because she was in between jobs at the moment. “I’m not working right now—but I guess once a nurse, always a nurse, right?”

      “Yes, we’re kind of like the Marines that way.”

      Cathy led the way and indicated a nice patient room. After a quick check, she left Aurora waiting for Beau.

      “Leave the door open, please. I get a little claustrophobic.”

      “Oh, sure. He’ll be right here.” Cathy pressed a hand to her back as a twinge of pain crossed her face.

      “Are you okay?”

      “Yes. It’s just pushing on my back more and more the last few days.”

      “Oh, boy. When are you due?” That low back pain was an ominous sign. Labor could commence at any moment.

      “A few more weeks—but I’m feeling like I want to pop right now.” Cathy paused in the doorway and looked like she was about to pass out. “I’ve been having Braxton Hicks for days.”

      Feeling that nurse’s instinct kick in, Aurora quickly moved to Cathy’s side and began to assess the woman. Maternity wasn’t her specialty, but she could see the swelling in the woman’s hands and face, the flushed cheeks and the fine sheen of sweat on her face and neck.

      “Cathy, I’m not so sure they were false contractions. I think you’d better sit down.”

      “I do, too.”

      Without releasing her grip on Cathy’s arm, Aurora dragged one of the wheeled chairs in the room close, right behind the pregnant woman’s legs. “Here’s a chair.”

      “Oh, boy.” Cathy dropped into the chair, then clutched her abdomen and leaned forward with a groan. “I think I’m going into labor right now.”

      She blew out a breath and her face reddened further.

      “Oh. Oh, no! My water just broke.”

      The amniotic fluid housing the baby and adding cushioning splattered onto the floor. This was going to go hard and fast.

      “Let me call for Beau.”

      Aurora left the room for a second to dash across the hall and rap on the patient room door.

      “Dr. Gutterman—there’s an issue out here!”

      Beau jerked the door open with a scowl, then a surprised look raised his brows and a grin lit up his face. “Aurora! What are you—?”

      “Cathy’s going into labor. Now.” Trying not to panic, Aurora released the doorknob.

      “Oh! I knew she was close, but not that close.” Beau turned back to his patient’s mother. “I’m sorry, Angie. I’ll call in a prescription for Zach as soon as I can. Give me a call if he’s not better in a few days.”

      Dispensing with any more pleasantries or greetings, Aurora grabbed his arm and dragged him into the hallway. “I mean right now.”

      “Oh! I see.”

      Beau headed into the other patient room. He looked at his nurse, struggling against pain in the office chair.

      “Oh, boy. I haven’t delivered a baby in a long time.” He offered a quick glance to Aurora, his eyes wide. “Are you sure she’s going to have it right now?”

      “Yes,” Aurora said as Cathy screamed again.

      “We’d better call 911.”

      “Do it—but you may be delivering a baby before they get here. This looks precipitous.”

      Though Aurora had done several rotations in Delivery, she hadn’t attended a birth in some time—and this one was looking like it was going to be a doozy.

      “No! I don’t want to have it here. I can’t!” Cathy huffed her breath in and out, her doe eyes wide in fear as she looked at Aurora for help. “We have plans.”

      “Honey, those plans are about to go up in smoke,” Aurora said. “Where’s your husband?”

      “Home.”

      “You’d better call him,” Aurora said, and watched as Beau called the emergency services to send an ambulance as soon as possible. Out in the country, nothing was “stat”, or “fast,” as they were miles from everywhere.

      “Okay. Okay...” Cathy took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair as the pain obviously eased. She held the phone to her ear. As she looked at Aurora for reassurance another frown crossed her