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Leaving Enchantment
C.J. Carmichael
Nolan McKinnon is shocked when he's named his niece's guardian. He knows nothing about taking care of a little girl–especially an orphan–but he still would have bet he knew more than Kim Sherman.Kim's a newcomer to Enchantment–one who seems a little too determined not to get involved with anyone. But Nolan can't refuse help, even if it comes from a woman with secrets in her past….
“It’s a mess. Single-vehicle accident about ten miles past Manny Cordova’s place. Looks like the driver lost control.”
Nolan listened to the report coming over the police scanner. Since he was the only one on call at the newspaper, it looked as if that “mess” was his responsibility. He loved most things about owning and managing the local newspaper. But stories like this were never fun.
He took a sharp corner slowly, his tires jostling on the poorly maintained pavement. Ahead he spotted the flashing lights of emergency vehicles. Parking behind the police cars, he had a view of the accident. The vehicle—some kind of SUV—had gone off the road and crashed into a rock outcrop.
He’d have to get a photo. About to uncap his camera, Nolan froze. He could just see the rear license plate of the mangled vehicle. And he’d seen that particular pattern before.
And then it hit him.
The SUV belonged to his sister.
Dear Reader,
In our family my husband, Michael, is the one who is usually taking business trips. I stay at home and look after the kids and the house and shovel all the snow (it always snows when he goes away). When I found out I was going to be working on a series set in New Mexico, though, I knew that this was my chance. I had never been to New Mexico. Clearly a “business trip” was in order.
So I told my husband, “Honey, I’m going on a business trip to New Mexico.” He asked me what I was going to do there. “Oh, go shopping and sightseeing and hang out in the local coffee shops. I’ll probably have to take lots of pictures,” I added, so it would be clear that I would be working very hard. I think he must have felt sorry for me by this point, because that’s when he volunteered to come with me.
Several months after that trip, I sat down at my computer with visions of mountains and deserts and Georgia O’Keeffe paintings filling my imagination. Michael and I had a wonderful time in New Mexico. It’s a beautiful place, an enchanting place. The perfect setting—in my opinion—for THE BIRTH PLACE series.
If you’ve read the earlier BIRTH PLACE books, you’ll already have met my hero and heroine. Kim Sherman is the birth center accountant who has come to town for reasons only she knows. And Nolan McKinnon is the local newspaper editor whose world is about to be torn apart by a family tragedy. I hope you enjoy the adventure of their love story. And come back to Enchantment next month to discover the truth behind the legend of the homecoming baby.
Sincerely,
C.J. Carmichael
P.S. I’d love to hear from you! Write to #1754-246
Stewart Green, S.W., Calgary, Alberta T3H 3C8. E-mail: cj@cjcarmichael.com.
Leaving Enchantment
C.J. Carmichael
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Thanks to all the “Super” authors who made collaborating
on this project so much fun: Darlene Graham,
Brenda Novak, Roxanne Rustand, Kathleen O’Brien,
Marisa Carroll. What a great team of writers to work with!
Special thanks to Anita Cisecki, R.N., ISE,
who works in high-risk obstetrics at the Foothills Hospital
in Calgary, for sharing her amazing experience and
expertise. Lucky for me my brother married your sister!
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER ONE
THE SPACIOUS ROOM FELT tranquil and homey—with dim lighting, soothing classical music and the scent of lavender in the air. Steve Davidson rubbed massage oil through the back opening of his wife’s favorite flannel nightgown, while Mary crouched on her hands and knees panting softly.
She was ten centimeters dilated.
Lydia Kane, midwife and founder of The Birth Place, observed the young woman thoughtfully. Six years ago, Mary’s first delivery had been relatively quick. Lydia had predicted that this second one would be even faster. And yet the baby still hadn’t dropped into position in the birth canal.
Across the room, where she was folding the damp towels Mary had used to towel off from a soak in the whirlpool tub earlier, Gina Vaughn, the assisting midwife, was biting her bottom lip. Lydia caught her gaze and gave her a reassuring smile.
Gina was doing wonderfully. Newly certified, a mother of two herself, Gina’s passion for the calling reminded Lydia of herself decades ago. Oh, she’d been terribly idealistic at that age. A part of her, she knew, still was.
Even after all these years, every birth Lydia attended gave her the same deep sense of wonder and satisfaction. The belief that she was helping mothers savor the full meaning of their childbirth experience had motivated her to establish The Birth Place in the fairly isolated town of Enchantment, New Mexico, and to keep it running—sometimes overcoming incredible hurdles—for over forty years.
“Excuse me.” Steve approached, his eyes creased with concern. “How much longer, do you think? She’s really in a lot of pain.”
“Let’s see how she’s doing.” Lydia performed a quick examination. The baby hadn’t descended into the pelvis yet. Come on, little guy, she urged silently. She checked Mary’s temperature while Gina assessed the fetal heart rate with a handheld Doppler. Steve and Mary both seemed to relax slightly when they heard the steady rhythm.
“It’s 145 to 150 beats per minute,” Gina said.
Lydia nodded. “Temperature is normal.” She turned back to Steve. “It shouldn’t be much longer. Let’s wait for a few more contractions. Mary, do you want to try squatting at the side of the bed?”
Maybe a change in position would help bring the baby down.
Lydia knew the Davidson’s daughter, Sammy, hoped for a sister. But Lydia suspected Mary was carrying a boy, at least one pound heavier than Sammy had been.
“You’re doing beautifully,” she told Mary, stroking the petite woman’s back, containing her own growing unease.
“That last contraction was a killer.” Mary crawled awkwardly from the bed, leaning heavily on Steve for support. She grabbed one of the strong wooden posts, then squatted, pulling hard on the bed as another contraction swept over her.
“Oh, I need to push!” Mary cried.
Lydia understood the other woman’s overwhelming urge to bear down. In second-stage labor, Mary’s entire body was focused on expelling the child from her womb.
“Good work, Mary,” she encouraged.
Gina adjusted Mary’s gown so she could get yet another Doppler reading. Again, the sound of a strong heartbeat filled the room. Mary and Steve’s baby appeared to be coping well.
And yet…
Reserving judgment for a few more minutes, Lydia considered Steve’s worried face. These days, almost all of Lydia’s client’s husbands or partners chose to be present during the birthing experience—sometimes with siblings and other family members, too. Six years ago, Steve had been one of those keen father-to-be’s. But in the last, difficult hour of Sammy’s delivery, when Mary had been alternately crying and whimpering, he had left the room.
Lydia knew he’d been disappointed later, and so had Mary. This time Steve was determined to stick it out—for Mary and for himself. But he already appeared a little woozy.
“This is it!” Mary reached for Lydia’s hand as her body surged in one more powerful contraction. “Oh my God, the baby’s coming!”
But twenty minutes later, the baby still hadn’t descended very much. Lydia checked the time. Almost seven in the evening. More than five hours had passed since the Davidsons had arrived with Mary already in established labor. Lydia didn’t know what was wrong. Mary’s contractions certainly palpitated strong enough. Baby’s heart rate was stable. There was no apparent reason to be concerned and yet Lydia’s sixth sense warned that all was not well.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” she said quietly to Gina.
“Taking a little longer than we expected.”
Yes. But why? Lydia looked at the tiny woman who was now back on the bed, exhausted, disheartened. The disparity in size between Mary and her large-framed husband had caused Lydia concern when she’d first met the couple six years ago. But Mary had a proven pelvis. Sammy had weighed in at just over eight pounds.
However, this second child was bigger than the first. Perhaps even bigger than Lydia had estimated.
She made up her mind. “I’m moving them to the hospital.”
After a second Gina nodded. “Maybe that’s wise.”
“I’ve got the air mattress in the back of my van. Drive it right up to the back door, would you? My keys are in the top drawer of my desk. I’ll talk to the Davidsons.”
“Is there a problem?” Steve had noticed the two midwives conferring quietly.
“Probably not.” Lydia smiled at him, then his wife. “You’re doing wonderfully, Mary, and your baby is a real champ, too. But this delivery is taking longer than I expected, and I always play it safe in situations like this. I want to move you to the hospital.”
Arroyo County Hospital was just minutes away. Nevertheless, delivery in a bright, modern, bustling hospital was not what the Davidsons had wanted. It wasn’t what Lydia wanted for them, either, but she could not take any chances.
“I don’t want— Ohhh…” Another contraction hit Mary, sweeping away her objection. Lydia calmly coached her through the pain. When it was over, Lydia performed a quick reexamination to see if the baby’s head had dropped. Unfortunately, no progress had been made.
“I’m sorry, Mary, but we have to move you. I know it’s going to be uncomfortable, but Gina will ride with you in the back of my van. Steve, do you want to sit up front with me?”
“I’ll drive my own vehicle,” he decided, his voice taut with anxiety.
“Fine. We’ll meet you there. And don’t worry. Dr. Ochoa is on duty tonight. He’ll take good care of Mary.”
DR. OCHOA, AN OBSTETRICIAN at the Arroyo County Hospital, met them in the delivery room. Lydia referred all her high-risk patients to Dr. Ochoa and had unfaltering admiration for the man. His reciprocal respect explained their professional association for over twenty years.
“What’s the problem?” he asked, snapping on a new pair of gloves.
Already positioned on the delivery table, pale, exhausted Mary had no energy to speak. Steve, as well, was quiet and tense. Lydia hoped he wasn’t going to faint. Gina obviously had the same concern. She was at his side, watching him carefully.
Quickly Lydia filled the doctor in on the patient’s case history. “Mary’s been at ten centimeters for almost two hours now. The baby still hasn’t descended.”
The doctor nodded. “Well, let’s take a look. Maybe something happened on the drive over.” He ambled to the delivery bed. “Hello, Mary, Steve. I’m Dr. Ochoa. How are you doing?”
After a quick examination he noted that the baby was now in position. “But—” he gave Lydia a smile of approval “—I’m glad you brought her in. It’s always better to err on the side of caution.” He turned back to the anxious parents-to-be. “Shouldn’t be long now.”
Lydia noticed Steve’s shoulders relax a fraction. Did he feel better now that a real doctor was in charge? Mary, however, seemed stressed. Lydia took her hand.
Mary’s anxious gaze sought hers. “Will you stay until my baby’s born?”
“I will.”
“You won’t leave me?”
“No.” She patted Mary’s shoulder then glanced at the doctor, who nodded in acceptance.
“And my baby’s still okay?”
A nurse had hooked Mary up to an external fetal monitor now and had started an IV, as well. Lydia had only to glance at the machine to see the same fetal heart rate they’d tracked on the Doppler at The Birth Place.
