Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(111)

Jack looked at his watch. “We’re right on time, Preach.”

Paige stood up from the table. “Jack, I’d like you to pour John a shot.”

“No, baby. I want to be alert.”

“John, you’re way beyond alert. And I don’t think I can take another minute. Do as I say!”

Jack went behind the bar. “My man, when a woman is having a baby, you do everything she says, and you do it fast.” He brought down a bottle. “Just a little something to take the edge off.”

“I don’t know,” Preacher said.

“Preach, you’re six-four and weigh at least two-fifty. A shot isn’t going to do nearly enough good. Mel should probably have you on Xanax.” He tipped the bottle of Preacher’s preferred whiskey over a glass. Reluctantly, Preacher picked up the drink and threw it back.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”

“Christopher all tucked in and asleep?” Jack asked.

“He is. He’ll be fine till about seven.”

Jack walked around the bar. He leaned down and kissed Paige on the head. “Have a good delivery, honey,” he said.

She smiled up at him. “I’ll do my best.” Then she dropped back into the chair, holding her tummy as a contraction got her. She started out breathing slowly, then as the pain threshold heightened, she began to pant and her face took on that look. She was starting to struggle. Jack smiled, watching. As the contraction eased, her features relaxed and finally, taking a deep breath, she smiled up at him. “They’re getting pretty good.”

“You’re doing great,” Jack said, putting out a hand to bring her to her feet.

“Aw, man,” Preacher groaned. He walked over to Paige and swept her up in his arms to carry her to Doc’s.

“Ah, Preach, don’t do that,” Jack said. “The minute she gets to Doc’s, I bet Mel is going to have her walking. It helps speed up the baby.”

“Fine,” he said. “Mel will do what Mel will do, I will do what I will do.” And out the door he went, carrying his wife to have their baby.

Jack’s shoulders shook with laughter. He hoped Mel didn’t knock Preacher over the head with a big club before morning.



Paige’s labor was not fast, but it was efficient and perfect in many ways. It took until three in the morning to get to six centimeters, but then the action picked up. Mel broke her water and by 5:00 a.m., she was almost fully dilated. She managed the discomfort very well.

Preacher, however, grew paler and weaker with every contraction. Before letting Paige begin to push, Mel brought a chair into the room. “John,” she said, “I want you to sit, and if you start to feel the least bit light-headed, put your head between your knees. If you faint, there’s nothing I can do for you—I’m busy with Paige.”

“I’m not going to faint,” he insisted. “I’ve been waiting forever for this.”

“John, you don’t have to stay,” Paige told him. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m staying,” he insisted.

For a man like Preacher to see his little wife struggle and have pain was obviously torture. He was much more comfortable in the role of protector. Mel knew immediately that he wasn’t going to be much help.

When Paige finally delivered the baby’s head at 6:00 a.m., Preacher leaned over his wife, took a look and collapsed into the chair with a groan. He put his head between his knees.

“Okay, Paige, pant. Give me just a second, we have a little cord issue. I’m going to be able to handle it fine. There we go—just pant for me, honey.” Mel slipped the cord over the baby’s head easily. “Okay, small push now. We’re there.”

“You sure?” Paige asked.

The baby, not out yet, began to cry. “Hear that? I’m sure. Bring her out, Paige, easy does it.” The baby slid neatly into Mel’s hands and screamed bloody murder. “Oh boy, she’s strong! Listen to those lungs! And big!” She put the baby in her newborn towel, placed her on Paige’s belly to dry her off. That done, she clamped and cut the cord. Preacher stood on shaky legs, watched the cutting of the cord and slid weakly into the chair again, groaning. Mel tried not to laugh.

She rewrapped the baby and passed her to Paige. After a little snuggling, she helped Paige settle her baby to the breast, since Preacher wasn’t going to be able to do it. “John, I want you to keep your eyes up here, on your wife and baby. All right?”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I still have delivery work to do, there will be blood, and I don’t want you to faint.”

“I won’t faint,” he said.

“You do as I say,” Mel told him.

“Here, John,” Paige said softly. “Look at your girl. Isn’t she beautiful?”

Mel was massaging the uterus when she heard a sound. She looked up over Paige’s raised knees and saw a most stunning sight. Big old Preacher was resting his lips against the baby’s head and crying his eyes out. Huge tears ran down his cheeks and dropped onto the newborn’s head. He slipped a meaty arm under his wife’s shoulders, holding her and the baby as one, and sobbed.

Remarkable. Paige just smiled and touched her husband’s face with gentle, loving fingers. Mel was moved almost to tears herself by the big man’s emotion. He worshipped his wife, his little family, and he was so grateful, he was overwhelmed. It was so gratifying to help bring a child into a union of such devotion. It was what she lived for.