Chapter Two
“You’re kidding, right?” Jim asked desperately, not wanting to believe what he’d heard. This couldn’t be happening. Not to either of them. He did not want to be trapped in an elevator with a woman about to give birth, and he knew she wanted to be stuck with him even less.
The damp stain on the carpet grew as another fierce contraction gripped her. Heather blanched as she squeezed her eyes closed and gasped for breath.
“I’m sorry,” she said when the pain faded. She looked at him and tried to smile. “I wish I was kidding, but as you can probably tell, my water broke, and from the pain, I’m assuming this is the real thing.”
Her face was thin and pale, just like her arms and legs. She wore a short-sleeved green dress that billowed out around her, making her look like a small child dressed up in her mother’s clothing. Except there was nothing childlike about her discomfort or her large belly.
Jim swore silently, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do. All he wanted was to walk away. He shifted uneasily. “Are you all right?” he asked awkwardly, then waved his hand. “Stupid question. Don’t bother answering it.”
“And here I promised you I wouldn’t go into labor before reaching the parking level.”
Her words were light, as was her tone, but he saw the fear lurking in her green eyes.
She rubbed her forehead; the action left her bangs mussed and spiky.
Her hair was the color of corn silk and fell past her shoulders.
She wore it tied back in a ribbon. He’d noticed that completely feminine adornment the minute she’d walked into the elevator.
He hadn’t known that women still wore ribbons in their hair.
“I don’t suppose that in addition to flying helicopters you have a weekend hobby of delivering babies?” she asked.
She was half teasing, half hoping. He read the truth in her pinched face.
He was all she had. If nothing else, he had to make her believe everything would be all right.
He moved across the small space and crouched beside her.
Perspiration dotted her forehead and her upper lip.
Her eyes were wide, her mouth trembling.
He wanted to make her feel better, but there was little he could do except reassure her.
“No training at delivering babies, but I’m a real quick study.” He took her hand in his and squeezed. “You have my complete attention, Heather.” He gave her a quick smile. “You don’t know me from a rock, but I promise that I’m great in a crisis. Together we’ll get through this. Okay?”
She nodded. “Do you mind if I scream?”
“Do you need to?”
“Not right now, but I might later.”
“Then go for it.” He gave her fingers another squeeze to reassure her, then reached for the phone. “I’m going to check on their progress. With a little luck, they’ll get the elevator fixed long before you’re ready to have your baby.”
“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to ask them to hurry,” she said, then folded in on herself with a wave of pain.
Jim forced himself to look calm. He’d had a little bit of first-aid training when he’d been in the navy, but none of his classes had dealt with childbirth.
Sure, he’d seen it on television, but he had a feeling that the programs hadn’t been totally forthcoming about all that took place during a delivery.
He swore silently as he picked up the phone. The line connected instantly with the maintenance room. A man answered.
“I know,” he began hastily. “You two are ready to get out of there, but it’s going to be a little bit longer. It’s not the fuse like we first thought. That number two elevator is a temperamental girl, and we don’t want to rush this.”
“I don’t give a damn what kind of problems you’re having,” Jim said, his voice low. “The woman with me has gone into labor. She’s in a lot of pain, and we need to get her to a hospital before she has her baby right here.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, followed by an explosion of cursing. Jim held the phone away from his ear.
Heather smiled. “Wow. You got his attention.”
“Are you surprised?”
She shook her head. “I just hope he can do something.”
Jim did, too. Heather had shifted herself into the corner of the elevator.
Her feet were flat on the carpet, so she could brace herself against the wall.
He didn’t want to think for what. Weren’t first babies always late and very slow in coming?
He could only hope that was true and that this would prove to be one of those long, drawn-out labors.
Not that he wanted Heather to be in pain, but there was no way he could deliver her child.
“Okay,” the maintenance guy said into the phone. “We’re going to try a couple of things to get the elevator down to the ground floor so that we can pry open the doors. In the meantime, we’re calling an ambulance. How’s she doing?”
“I don’t know,” Jim said. He glanced at Heather. “Didn’t you say that you’d just seen your doctor? Is she still in the building?”
She nodded. “Dr. Sharon Moreno. She’s on the top floor.”
“Her doctor is in this building. Sharon Moreno. Top floor. Please notify her. We’re going to need help here.”
“Will do.”
There were a couple of clicks, then silence. A second later, the maintenance guy was back. “She’ll be down in five minutes to talk to you.”
Jim turned to Heather. “They’re getting your doctor. Can you scoot over this way so you can talk to her? The receiver won’t reach to where you’re sitting.”
Heather pushed a strand of blond hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her right ear. “You talk to her. I don’t want to move. Everything hurts.” She breathed slowly and steadily, her eyes closed.
Again, she tensed in pain. She was so thin he would have sworn he could see her belly rippling with the force of her contraction. He ached to do something to help her. Instead, he could only sit there, waiting for the doctor.
She groaned softly and wrapped her arms around her belly. “It hurts,” she breathed shakily. “I’m scared, Jim. I know you don’t want to hear that, but I am.”
“I understand.” He reached down and took her hand in his. “It’s okay to be scared. I’m right here with you. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her mouth twitched. “You couldn’t even if you wanted to.”
“I know, but even if I could, I wouldn’t leave.”
“Really?” Her startled gaze met his. “You swear?”
He nodded. “You don’t have to be alone through this. I give you my word.”
“Thank you.”
Just then, a woman’s voice came on the line. “This is Dr. Moreno. Is that you, Heather?”
“No, Doctor. My name is Jim Dyer. I’m in the elevator with Heather. She’s in labor.”
“Can I talk to her?”
Jim looked at Heather and knew she wasn’t moving on her own. “Yeah. Give me a second.” He let the receiver dangle. “Heather, the doctor wants to talk to you. Let me help you shift closer so you can reach the receiver.”
She was shaking her head in refusal even as she began to inch toward him. He knelt beside her and eased one arm under her legs and the other behind her back.
“Are you having a labor pain?” he asked.
“Not right now.”
“On the count of three.” He counted, then drew her against him and moved her next to the phone.
She took a couple of breaths before she picked up the receiver. “So much for waiting a few more days. I guess you were wrong, Dr. Moreno,” she said with a touch of humor. “First time ever?”
There was a pause while she listened to her doctor.
“They’re about three minutes apart,” she said. “The pain is intense. It feels like—” She gasped and thrust the phone at Jim, then panted as her body twisted.
“She’s tough,” Jim said to the doctor as he held on to Heather’s hand, “but this is hard for her.”
“For both of you,” the doctor said. “Do you have any medical training?”
He told her about his first-aid classes in the service.
“First babies are notoriously tardy,” Dr. Moreno told him.
“However, based on the fact that Heather’s water has already broken and the duration and frequency of her labor pains, we’ll have to assume she might not wait for the elevator to be fixed.
I want to explain a few things to you in case you have to deliver the child. Have you ever seen a baby born before?”
“Not really,” he muttered.
Jim felt as if someone had kicked him in the gut.
Watching Heather in labor was one thing, but having her doctor say he might have to help her deliver her baby was another.
He wanted to insist that Dr. Moreno call the words back, but he couldn’t.
He was all Heather had. It was up to him to get her through this.
She explained about the stages of labor and what was probably happening to Heather and the baby.
She had him lower Heather onto her back and help her with her breathing.
The contractions continued. He breathed as the doctor told him, setting a pace for Heather to follow as the pains got longer and came closer and closer together.
“It hurts,” Heather moaned after a particularly long and intense set of contractions.
“I know. You can do this.”
Jim mouthed the words because they were all he had. He kept holding her hand and breathing with her, all the while wondering why something as wonderful as childbirth had to be so damn hard on the mother.
The small room seemed to close in around him. He couldn’t tell if it was getting hot or just his reaction to the stress. Even as he urged Heather to hang on, he kept listening for a sound or waiting for a gentle lurch that would tell him the elevator was back in working order.
“I want to push,” Heather gasped.
“Don’t!” Jim instructed as he squeezed her fingers with one hand and wiped the sweat from her face with the other. He had the receiver cradled between his shoulder and ear. “She wants to push,” he told the doctor.
“Tell her not to. You’re going to have to check and see if the baby has crowned. If it has, you’ll be able to see the top of the head. That means she’s ready to deliver.”