Under the Covers by Rita Herron Page B
Authors: Rita Herron
Tags: Fiction, General, Family & Relationships, Romance, Historical, Contemporary, Psychology, Adult, Love Stories, Authors, Marriage, Psychotherapy, counseling, Sex Therapists, Marriage Counselors, Marriage Counseling
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broken shoe, then realized the woman was driving the pickup, so she moved away.
"Thanks." Rain splattered the woman's pale face, and she suddenly clutched her stomach in pain. "Oh, my God."
Abby froze. Was the lady going into labor?
"Get in," Abby said. "I'll put your things in the truck for you."
The woman offered a weak smile. "Thank you. I don't feel so good."
Abby's heart raced. "Can you drive yourself?"
The woman fought with the door against the wind, but eventually climbed inside the cab awkwardly. "I only have a block to go."
And where was her husband when she needed him?
Cursing men in general, Abby stuffed the diapers into the other side of the truck, slammed the passenger door, and waved. But suddenly the woman clutched the steering wheel, doubled over, rested her head on top of it, and let out a loud screech.
Abby shivered and ran around to the driver's side. Dear heavens. The woman was having her baby right here in the middle of the Wal-Mart parking lot.
"Help!" The woman turned a panicked look Abby's way, then pointed to her stomach. "It's coming!"
Abby swallowed, momentarily paralyzed. She didn't know anything about delivering a baby, but the woman swung open the truck door, bellowed again, and clawed at Abby's arm, jerking her out of her stupor. She jumped on the lower step of the cab and tried to calm the woman. "Are you sure?"
"My water just broke."
Abby glanced down at the seat and saw the evidence. "I'll get an ambulance."
"Don't leave me!" The young girl flopped backward, grabbed her belly, and howled. "I have to push!"
Sweet Jesus, no. Not yet. Didn't deliveries take time, long hours of waiting at the hospital?
"Just hold on," Abby said. "I'm sure you've got—"
"It hurts!" The woman panted and heaved. "I feel the head!"
Abby grabbed her cell phone, punched in 911, and grimaced when the woman screamed again, scooted backward on the seat, and began shoving at her clothes. Abby told the dispatch officer where to come, then hung up and tried to think.
"I've got to push!"
She couldn't have the baby on the seat of the truck!
Frantic, Abby searched the woman's bags for something sterile to place under her. She certainly couldn't boil water! Toothpaste, cosmetics, a toilet brush, rubber gloves—she tore open the plastic gloves and pulled them onto her hands.
The lady bucked up off the seat with a yowl, grabbed the steering wheel, and hit the horn. It blared along with her howl.
"Hang on, honey; the ambulance is on its way," Abby murmured. She ripped open the diapers and spread them on the seat for a makeshift blanket just as the baby's head made its appearance.
* * *
Hunter stared in amazement as an ambulance rolled to a stop in the downpour and the paramedics jumped out and rushed to a pickup truck. Abby Jensen had climbed into the truck only minutes earlier with a very young, very pregnant woman. To do what?
Deliver her baby?
An 11-Alive truck screeched in next and a camera crew jumped out, a newscaster fumbling with her rain hat as they ran to the scene. Seconds later, he gaped as the paramedics loaded a woman and a newborn onto a gurney and transferred them to the ambulance. The woman clung to Abby Jensen's hand. Abby looked shaken but relieved.
The newscaster shoved a microphone toward the good doctor. Hunter couldn't hear, but he suspected the reporter had just gotten the scoop on a Wal-Mart delivery by Abby Jensen.
A hero story if he'd ever heard one.
Hunter gripped the steering wheel. Dammit. Here he was sitting on a great story and he couldn't move forward and interview Abby himself or he'd blow his cover. Although her heroic act didn't quite fit the angle he had planned....
* * *
Abby hobbled toward the store, her hair plastered to her head, her clothes soaked, her emotions riding a rocky roller coaster. After that delivery, she should just go home, but she was here anyway and the traffic still wasn't moving, so she might as well stock up. Besides, what did she have to
"Thanks." Rain splattered the woman's pale face, and she suddenly clutched her stomach in pain. "Oh, my God."
Abby froze. Was the lady going into labor?
"Get in," Abby said. "I'll put your things in the truck for you."
The woman offered a weak smile. "Thank you. I don't feel so good."
Abby's heart raced. "Can you drive yourself?"
The woman fought with the door against the wind, but eventually climbed inside the cab awkwardly. "I only have a block to go."
And where was her husband when she needed him?
Cursing men in general, Abby stuffed the diapers into the other side of the truck, slammed the passenger door, and waved. But suddenly the woman clutched the steering wheel, doubled over, rested her head on top of it, and let out a loud screech.
Abby shivered and ran around to the driver's side. Dear heavens. The woman was having her baby right here in the middle of the Wal-Mart parking lot.
"Help!" The woman turned a panicked look Abby's way, then pointed to her stomach. "It's coming!"
Abby swallowed, momentarily paralyzed. She didn't know anything about delivering a baby, but the woman swung open the truck door, bellowed again, and clawed at Abby's arm, jerking her out of her stupor. She jumped on the lower step of the cab and tried to calm the woman. "Are you sure?"
"My water just broke."
Abby glanced down at the seat and saw the evidence. "I'll get an ambulance."
"Don't leave me!" The young girl flopped backward, grabbed her belly, and howled. "I have to push!"
Sweet Jesus, no. Not yet. Didn't deliveries take time, long hours of waiting at the hospital?
"Just hold on," Abby said. "I'm sure you've got—"
"It hurts!" The woman panted and heaved. "I feel the head!"
Abby grabbed her cell phone, punched in 911, and grimaced when the woman screamed again, scooted backward on the seat, and began shoving at her clothes. Abby told the dispatch officer where to come, then hung up and tried to think.
"I've got to push!"
She couldn't have the baby on the seat of the truck!
Frantic, Abby searched the woman's bags for something sterile to place under her. She certainly couldn't boil water! Toothpaste, cosmetics, a toilet brush, rubber gloves—she tore open the plastic gloves and pulled them onto her hands.
The lady bucked up off the seat with a yowl, grabbed the steering wheel, and hit the horn. It blared along with her howl.
"Hang on, honey; the ambulance is on its way," Abby murmured. She ripped open the diapers and spread them on the seat for a makeshift blanket just as the baby's head made its appearance.
* * *
Hunter stared in amazement as an ambulance rolled to a stop in the downpour and the paramedics jumped out and rushed to a pickup truck. Abby Jensen had climbed into the truck only minutes earlier with a very young, very pregnant woman. To do what?
Deliver her baby?
An 11-Alive truck screeched in next and a camera crew jumped out, a newscaster fumbling with her rain hat as they ran to the scene. Seconds later, he gaped as the paramedics loaded a woman and a newborn onto a gurney and transferred them to the ambulance. The woman clung to Abby Jensen's hand. Abby looked shaken but relieved.
The newscaster shoved a microphone toward the good doctor. Hunter couldn't hear, but he suspected the reporter had just gotten the scoop on a Wal-Mart delivery by Abby Jensen.
A hero story if he'd ever heard one.
Hunter gripped the steering wheel. Dammit. Here he was sitting on a great story and he couldn't move forward and interview Abby himself or he'd blow his cover. Although her heroic act didn't quite fit the angle he had planned....
* * *
Abby hobbled toward the store, her hair plastered to her head, her clothes soaked, her emotions riding a rocky roller coaster. After that delivery, she should just go home, but she was here anyway and the traffic still wasn't moving, so she might as well stock up. Besides, what did she have to
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