Chapter 22 #2
“In this weather?” Emily gestured toward the window, where snow whipped horizontally across the glass. “We can’t even see the driveway.”
Evan had called 911, his hands shaking as he explained the situation. The dispatcher was calm and professional, assuring him that help was on the way, but the reality was stark. In weather like this, they might be on their own.
“The baby’s not supposed to come for another week,” Emily said between contractions, her face pale with pain and fear.
“Babies don’t read calendars,” Evan replied, trying to sound confident while his heart hammered against his ribs. He’d read every pregnancy book, attended every class, but nothing had prepared him for this—his wife in labor during a blizzard, too far away from the nearest hospital.
His phone rang. His mother.
“Evan? It’s really coming down out there. I just heard the weather report. Are you—”
“Mom, Emily’s in labor.” The words tumbled out. “We can’t get to the hospital. The roads are closed.”
“How far apart are the contractions?” Her calm voice immediately took his heart rate down by ten points.
“Five minutes. Maybe less.” He watched Emily grip the bedpost, her knuckles white as another wave hit. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You’re going to be fine,” Tara said, her voice steady and sure. “Both of you. I just got a text. The sheriff is on his way, and Dr. Winters is standing by. Women have been having babies for thousands of years, sweetheart. Your daughter is going to be just fine.”
She kept talking to him, her voice calming, and by the time he thought he could breathe again, he heard the sound.
The sirens grew louder, and Evan saw red and blue lights flashing through the storm. Relief flooded through him as he recognized Sheriff Cooper’s SUV pulling into their driveway.
“They’re here,” he told his mother.
“I’ll be right over,” she said. “Tell Emily I love her.”
The next hour passed in a blur of medical instructions over the radio, Dr. Winters’ calm voice guiding them through each step. Sheriff Cooper proved to be surprisingly knowledgeable about emergency births, his steady presence keeping Evan grounded when panic threatened to take over.
“I can see her head,” the sheriff announced, his voice filled with wonder. “One more push, Emily.”
Emily’s scream echoed through the house, primal and powerful, and then suddenly there was silence. Evan held his breath, terror gripping his chest.
Then came the cry—tiny, indignant, perfect.
“She’s here,” Bo said, his professional composure cracking as he gently placed the baby on Emily’s chest. “She’s beautiful.”
Grace Tara Singleton entered the world at 4:17 AM on February 12th, during the worst blizzard Blueberry Hill had seen in twenty years. She was perfect, tiny fists waving, dark hair plastered to her head, lungs powerful enough to wake the neighbors if they’d had any.
“She’s so small,” Evan whispered, touching one impossibly tiny finger, his shirt plastered to his back.
“She’s perfect,” his wife said, tears streaming down her face as she looked at their daughter. “Look what we made.”
His mother was crying and laughing and smiling. “You’re going to be the best parents. This little girl is going to be the most spoiled baby ever.”
By the time the ambulance arrived, the storm had begun to ease. They transported Emily and the baby to the hospital for observation, but it was a formality. Grace was healthy, Emily was recovering well, and the emergency delivery had gone textbook perfect.
Tara and Will arrived at the hospital a while later. She took one look at her granddaughter and burst into tears. Again.
“She’s beautiful,” she whispered, settling into the chair beside Emily’s bed. “Absolutely perfect.”
Will clapped Evan on the shoulder. “Two women in the house to take care of now.” He gave them a wooden rattle he’d carved himself.
Evan went pale, making Will laugh even harder.
“Mom sent flowers,” Emily said, gesturing toward a massive arrangement that had been delivered twenty minutes ago. “From Spain. She said she’s sorry she couldn’t be here, but they’re sailing around the Mediterranean and won’t be back until April.”
Tara’s jaw tightened, but she kept her voice neutral. “Well, Grace has all the family she needs right here.”
And it was true. By noon, the hospital room was full. Christina and Ryan arrived with balloons and cookies from Spilled Milk, Ally with violets, and Sam and Mrs. Collier with a hand-knitted blanket.
Even Bo stopped by, looking exhausted but happy. “Wanted to check on our Valentine’s baby,” he said, though technically Grace had arrived two days before the holiday.
“She couldn’t wait to meet everyone,” Emily said, watching her daughter sleep in Tara’s arms.
“Smart girl,” Tara murmured, her voice thick with love. “Life’s too short to wait for perfect timing.”
As afternoon faded to evening and their visitors gradually departed, Evan found himself sitting beside the hospital bed, watching his wife and daughter sleep. The storm had passed, leaving behind a world covered in pristine white snow that sparkled in the late sunlight.
His phone buzzed with messages. Congratulations from old friends in Seattle, work colleagues he hadn’t heard from in ages, neighbors from their old life who’d seen the photos he’d posted. But none of it felt real compared to this moment, this quiet room where his family slept peacefully.
Grace stirred in her bassinet, making the tiny mewing sounds that had already become familiar. Evan reached down to stroke her cheek, marveling at how soft her skin felt, like velvet.
“Hey there, little one,” he whispered. “Welcome to the world. You picked quite a night to make your entrance.”
She opened her eyes, dark blue, like all newborns, but something in their depths reminded him of Emily’s steady gaze. His heart expanded in ways he hadn’t known were possible, love rushing through him with such force it left him breathless.
This was what mattered. Not titles or promotions or salaries that impressed people at cocktail parties.
This. This tiny person who would call him Daddy, who would look to him for protection and guidance and love.
This woman, who had chosen to build a life with him in a place that had seemed unthinkable six months ago.