Shelter Mountain (Virgin River #2)(89)

“There’s no heartbeat. No movement. Liz is laboring and she’s going to deliver him soon, and he’s not going to be alive.”

Connie caught it the first time and began to softly weep, her head down, her shoulders shaking. It took Rick a minute. He shook his head, trying to make it not be so. “Why?” he asked. “How?”

“We don’t know, Rick. I talked to Dr. Stone just a few minutes ago—everything was fine when he saw her last. Liz doesn’t seem to have any complications. It’s been a while since she felt movement. It could have been a few hours, a few days…. These things are rare, but it happens. And we’re going to have to tell her.”

“I thought he was just quiet last night. Was he…?” Rick asked. “Last night, when I held her, I didn’t…No,” he said, shaking his head. His eyes watered, though he stood straight. “No,” he said again. Mel took him into her arms, this big, solid boy, a father too young, a grieving father too soon. He leaned against her, shaking his head, saying no, no, no, no, over and over. She thought it might be best if he vented a little first, before going to Liz, but then a cry came from the labor room and he raised his head sharply, as though he heard a gunshot. She could see his brave struggle to try to control his own tears.

“She’s going to need you so much. It doesn’t get any harder than this.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t. Tell her.”

“We have to tell her. It’s her baby. Can you do this with me? Because I really need your help.”

“Yeah,” he said, sucking back the tears and wiping a sleeve across his nose. “Yeah, I think I can. Oh, God,” he said, briefly losing it. “I did this to her!”

“No, Rick—this just happened. It’s cruel and it’s horrible, but it isn’t anyone’s fault. We have to somehow get through this.”

“What if we hurry up and take her to the hospital?” he asked.

“I’m sorry. It wouldn’t help anything. Come on, let’s—”

“But maybe you’re wrong.”

“You’ll never know how much I wish I was wrong. Come with me. She’s getting closer and she has to know.” She took his hand. “You’re going to have to be there for her.” She pulled him into the room and, as they entered, Doc left, leaving Mel to do her job.

“Rick,” Liz cried, reaching for him. She was bathed in sweat, her hair damp and her features twisted.

Rick rushed to her and took her into his arms, holding her against him, silent tears running down his cheeks. Liz was gripped by too much pain to wonder what was wrong with him. When the contraction passed, Mel took her hand and said, “Liz, Rick and I have to tell you something….” Rick lifted his head from her shoulder and looked at her, his expression strong though his cheeks were wet.

“What?” she asked weakly. “What’s the matter?”

Rick brushed the hair back from her brow and barely whispered, “The baby, Liz. He’s not okay.”

“What?” she asked again.

Rick looked at Mel imploringly. “The baby is no longer alive, Liz,” Mel said, struggling against her own tears.

“How do you know?” she asked hotly, scooting up in the bed, suddenly alert and frightened. “How do you know that?”

“There’s no heartbeat, sweetheart. There hasn’t been.”

And then she was gripped by another hard contraction.

“Can’t you give her something?” Rick asked.

Mel put on a pair of gloves so she could check Liz. “I’ll give her something to take the edge off without slowing her down or blacking her out. But we need to keep this moving,” she told them both. “Let me have a look, honey. Knees up. That’s my girl. There you go. Good—we’re getting close. It won’t take too much longer.”

“Why?” she asked through sobs. “Why? What happened?”

“No one knows, baby,” Rick was saying. “A freak of nature—no one knows.”

“Oh, God, Rick!”

“I’m here, baby. I won’t leave you. I love you, Liz. I love you so much. We’ll get through this.”

“Can’t anybody do anything?” she shrieked.

“If they could, they would. I’m here, baby. I won’t let you go.”

As they cried together, held each other through one painful contraction after another, Mel couldn’t help but feel tragic pride in these two kids, helping each other through what had to be the most terrible experience anyone can possibly endure, at any age.

“I’m going to want you to push in a minute, Liz.” She went to the door and opened it, finding Doc there, waiting. “It’s almost time,” she said. “She’s real close to ten centimeters.”

Back in the room, she coached Liz and Rick through pushing, an arduous process. Liz was heroic, and between every hard contraction, she sobbed uncontrollably. Then John Stone stepped into the room. “I thought you could use some help,” he said. “I’m right here if you need me.”

Mel mouthed a thank-you, then looked back to the field of birth. John donned gloves, set up clamps and scissors.

Liz pushed a couple of times and clung to Rick between contractions. Mel met Rick’s eyes a few times and saw that, remarkably, he was holding it together. She briefly thought how like Jack the boy was—his eyes were clear, but his cheeks damp, and he clenched his jaw. But as he lowered his lips to Liz’s brow his expression softened and he murmured sweetly to her, telling her he was there, he loved her.