Chapter 58
Chapter fifty-eight
Growin’ Up Raisin’ You
Cheyenne
I’d been wrong. So damn wrong. I’d been foolish enough to think this would be a breeze… After all, the rest of my pregnancy was. I’d dealt with pain. I’d broken bones. Torn ligaments. But this…
Holy shit, this was on a whole new level.
The contractions were so frequent sometimes I didn’t know when one started and the other ended. I’d taken a bath, I’d paced the house, Cash had even convinced me to line dance at one point.
But now… Well, now it was all I could do to catch my fucking breath.
Bad and Cash made a surprisingly good support team, though. Bad seemed to have hands meant for gripping tight. They were firm and calloused and rough as leather, but they didn’t budge or falter as I held his hand through some of the nastier waves.
I sat in the arm chair in mine and Mav’s room, perched on the edge, while gripping Bad’s hand like my life depended on it.
Maverick still wasn’t here. Not that it seemed likely for him to be with this storm.
It was just as bad out, if not worse. The wind whipped around the house, rain and hail pelting against the roof and windows.
But the idea of him not being here… No. I couldn’t think of that. I had to hold out hope. He’d be here.
He’ll be here.
A groan of pain fell from my lips, tears welling in my eyes as I rode through another contraction. But this one was different. I can’t even properly explain it, aside from just…pressure. So much pressure that I thought I might drown in it if it didn’t go away.
“Um…Somethin’s happenin’. It feels different…” My voice was little more than a squeak as I tried to speak through the pain. “What’s happenin’?”
Cash hurried to the left side of the armchair, a wet rag to wipe the sweat from my brow hanging over his arm, while Bad remained holding my hand on my right. “Shit. You think it’s time, Dad?”
Bad’s hazel gaze held a laser-sharp focus. “Only one way to find out.”
Cash frowned, tilting his head to the side for a moment until realization finally dawned on him. His mouth dropped open before snapping shut. His Adam’s apple bobbed once as his pleading stare flicked from me to his dad. “I…I can’t,” he stammered out.
“Someone’s gotta check how dilated she is. You ain’t got your hand in a vice-grip right now. You do it.”
Cash looked at me, and I almost—almost—laughed. I’d never seen Cash Mooney embarrassed or bashful since meeting him. Didn’t even know it was possible.
Another contraction swept through me. Another relentless wave of blinding, white-hot pain and pressure. Shit.
“Cash, you’ve made a fuckin’ art of lookin’ at pussy. Don’t tell me you can’t do it now,” I growled out.
Bad snorted at my side, and despite the pain, the barest hint of a smirk tugged on my lips. Cash’s shocked, mortified expression was just too good to behold.
He gulped, chewing his lip for a minute. “It ain’t the same,” he pleaded.
“If you ain’t gonna help, then get out,” I snapped, another swell of pressure pummeling into me. “Fu—” My head fell back as I slammed my eyes closed and tried to just breathe through it all. Tears slipped down my cheeks.
“I’ll do it.” Cash’s words were genuine, soft, and earnest. Not a shred of the cocky cowboy I’d come to know.
My eyes shot open, gaze snapping to his.
He nodded, saying the words again. “I’ll do it.” Then, nodding and repeating himself over and over, as if it had become a mantra, he knelt before the armchair. “Okay, just um…just lean back. You sure you’re okay with this?”
If another pulse of blinding pain didn’t ripple through me just then, I’d have offered him some sort of form of encouragement, but the pained groan that came out of my mouth was the best I could do as I fisted the hem of the silky nightdress Aunt Violet had gotten me, bunching it up towards my stomach.
Cash’s gaze left mine for but a moment, but the way it snapped up to me only a blink later, complete astonishment and a trickle of fear shining in his green-gold gaze told me everything I needed to know.
“Holy. Fuckin’. Shit.” His voice boomed over the storm. “Well, I ain’t no doctor, but I’d say start fuckin’ pushin’.”
I thought the contractions were bad, but the fear and panic that bubbled to life in my chest and pumped through my veins with each labored breath I took was worse. Far worse. I couldn’t do this. I just… I couldn’t.
Not without Maverick here.
My breathing—or whatever you could call the shallow gasps I managed to suck down my throat—hitched, making my lungs burn at the realization I was going to be doing this without him.
My body trembled, and I couldn’t stop shaking my head back and forth.
No. No. No. No.
“No. I can’t! I can’t do it!” I was up and out of the seat quicker than should have been possible, all but shoving Cash out of the way as I moved to brush past him—a bad idea as the pressure weighing down on me, urging me to push, brought me down to my hands and knees.
“Holy shit! Chey!” Cash’s shout sounded far away as the worst contraction yet tore its way through me, forcing my entire body to shake.
The pressure was too much. Too unbearable. I sucked in sharp, shallow breaths, my gaze trained on the floor as I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood. Anything to take away from the overwhelming pain and pressure building, building, building.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t—
Cash’s face materialized before me, his hands cupping my cheeks. “Breathe, Chey. You got this.”
“I can’t, Cash. I—”
“Damn it, Chey. You can.”
I shook my head, tears leaking down my cheeks and blurring my vision. “I can’t. Not without Mav.”
“You can and you will. I ain’t Mav, but I’m here. Now I need you to buck up and push.”
An ember of anger sparked in me at his words. Buck up? I’d like to see him do this. Push a fucking baby out with no medication. No doctor. Just a couple cowboys whose only birthing experience was with fucking livestock.
“Fuck you,” I growled through another grueling contraction.
And damn him, but he flashed one of those bright, shit-eating grins of his. Like he knew and was depending on my anger to push me through. “Come on, trouble. You got this.”
He glanced beyond me, and I followed his gaze to find Bad settling a thick layer of towels and anything soft for the delivery. He offered me a single, determined nod.
Well, damn. This was happening.
My heart thumped so hard and wildly I wasn’t sure how it hadn’t come out of my chest, but a rush of determination surged to life in me, mingling with the fear and panic.
“Okay,” I whispered, blowing out a breath as I turned forward to meet Cash’s gaze once more.
“Let’s do th—” My words fell away, a groan tearing from my lips as the overwhelming urge to push rippled through me.
I didn’t fight through the wave this time, I embraced it, let it flow and just…
pushed, letting the air whoosh from my lungs as I bore down and let it out.
“Good. Chey. Good,” Bad urged, calmly.
I sucked in a string of deep breaths, letting Cash wipe the sweat off my face with the towel. “You got this,” he murmured.
With a deep breath in, another contraction pulsated through me and I pushed and pushed and pushed, expelling the air from my lungs in a slow whoosh once more.
Bad and Cash walked me through each contraction, each push, each breath, in tandem.
Cash knelt before me, holding me as I clamped my arms around his shoulders and used his support to push down through the waves of unrelenting, agonizing contractions.
He whispered soft words of encouragement, rubbing my back, trying anything to ease my fears and worries.
My entire body shook with exhaustion, my breath sawing in and out of my chest. The adrenaline and determination I’d felt moments ago dwindled and fizzled out like a firework. God, it hurt. And burned. I felt like I was on fire. It was fucking painful. Brutal.
“I…c-can’t…” I sobbed after another round of pushing.
Cash pulled back enough to cup my face once more. “You can’t stop now. You’re almost there.”
“One more push, Chey.” Bad’s deep, gravelly voice soothed some of the fear. “Come on. You got this. One more.”
One more. I met Cash’s determined stare.
He pressed his forehead to mine. “One more, Chey.”
I swear, the shout that tore from lungs as I pushed through that final contraction damn near shook the house. Or maybe it was just me shaking so hard.
“Yes. Good. Good girl, Chey,” Bad’s words were like a balm as the pressure began to lessen and ease until…
A cry pierced through the room, rising above a clap of thunder. Lightning flickered, casting the room in a white glow for a moment. I sagged against Cash, my entire body trembling as tears fell from my eyes. And then Bad placed a little piece of heaven in my arms.
She cried and cried and cried, more like a banshee than an angel, but she was beautiful no less. Even covered in blood and amniotic fluid and God knew what else. But I wiped at it gently, so gently, with the swaddling blanket Bad had waiting for her arrival.
I’d done it… I’d actually done it. She was here.
And every fear and doubt and worry I’d had since finding out I was having her vanished in that moment.
The road leading here had been hard, and the road going forward would be full of dips and turns and highs and lows, but none of that mattered.
All that mattered, right here and right now, was this precious little being I cupped to my chest.
“She’s gorgeous, Chey,” Cash said, still kneeling beside me.
“He’s right. I ain’t seen many gorgeous babies, and that’s includin’ my own.” Bad chuckled as he sat himself in the armchair and pulled the rubber gloves off his hands.
“Hey! Mama said I was the best damn lookin’ baby she’d ever seen.”
“She was lyin’, boy.” He nodded toward my baby, who still fussed and whined, but had begun to settle as I held her against me. “That right there is.”
A smile curved my lips as I met each of their gazes before looking back down at the being I’d created. “Welcome to the world, my little storm cloud. This here’s your Uncle Cash and your Grandpa Bad.”
As I glanced up at them once more, I found both men’s eyes lined with silver.