Patricia Knoll - Drive-By Daddy - Drive-By Daddy / Calamity Jo

Darcy shook her head, and licked at her dry lips. “No. Can’t move. My baby. She’s—”

“I have to move you. There’s no room here. My truck’s brand-new. It’s clean. And I’ll have more room to operate there.”

Operate? A doctor word. The pain was subsiding. Darcy caught a quick breath. Thank God…a doctor. The world was, after all, a good place. “Are you a doctor?” she managed to say past her panting breaths.

“Relax,” he told her. “Save your strength for the next pain. And no, ma’am, I’m not a doctor. I’m a rancher. Okay, here we go. One. Two.…”

A rancher? He’s a rancher who’s going to operate? Why operate? What’s wrong? My baby. Is something wrong with my baby?

“Three.” He tugged her backwards…gently but firmly. Gasping, Darcy crabbed her feet along the seat as she reached up behind herself and grabbed at the rock-solid support of his arms. “Hurry. Faster. The pains…”

“Yes, ma’am. Let me get a hold of you. I’ve got to get my arm under your legs now so I can carry you. Like that. That’s good. Okay, sweetheart, here we go. Ready?”

No. She wasn’t ready. Not for any of this. Not labor. Not delivery. Not motherhood. “Yes,” she cried out. Anything to get this ordeal over with. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t, honey. I won’t leave you.”

“Darcy. My name is Darcy. Not…honey.”

His blue-eyed gaze met hers. He nodded his head. “Yes, ma’am. No disrespect meant…Darcy.”

And then he had her in his arms and was carrying her as easily as if her pregnant weight were of no consequence to him. In only a matter of seconds—with Darcy realizing that her bare bottom was exposed to the world at large, should it care to pass by at this moment—he was settling her into his white truck’s bed. He was so tall, he managed to reach in right over the fender that covered the wheel well and laid her down like a mother…okay, like a father…putting a baby in its crib.

Darcy exhaled her relief at being lain down and instantly clutched at the blanket under her, concentrating on taking deep breaths and on watching him sprint to the tailgate. In one quick movement, he hauled himself up into the grooved bed with her. Then, with his boots thudding dully against the metal of the truck deck, he stepped around her, positioning himself at her head and shoulders. “I’m going to pull you up more,” he warned. “Keep your hold on that blanket.”

Darcy did. Sure enough, he tugged on the brightly patterned Indian blanket’s hem and effortlessly slid her farther into the bed until her head was resting against the bulkhead, at the cab’s back. “This is the best I can do for you, Darcy,” he told her, looking concerned. “I just wish there was some shade out here to make things easier for you.”

“While I…” Darcy rasped, “just wished…there were…some drugs out here…to make things easier for me.”

He chuckled. “I expect you do. Here. Raise up some.” With that he levered her up and wedged another rolled blanket under her shoulders. “That ought to give you something to lean against.” He stepped around her, and squatted down, all denim-covered muscle, at her feet. Lowering his gaze, he put a hand on her knee. “Bend your knees more…as far as you can. There. That’s good. Now hold on to them. And keep them bent like that.” He glanced up, looking into her eyes. “How’re we doing?”

“Great,” Darcy gasped out, feeling the onset of the next pain. “Want to…trade places?”

“Not for all the blue sky in Montana, ma’am. Easy now. Just take it as it comes.” He reached up, smoothing his hand up under her maternity top and rubbing her belly. “You’re doing fine, Darcy. Just breathe through it, make it easier for your baby. You say it’s a girl?”

Biting at her bottom lip, with her eyes squeezed shut, Darcy nodded.

“Good for you. A daughter. But how do you know? Ultrasound? Or woman’s intuition?”

The pain lessened. Darcy cried out, wanting to give up. It hurt so bad. But her body and her baby wouldn’t let her. “Ultrasound,” she finally sighed. “I don’t…have…woman’s intuition. If I did…I wouldn’t…be in…this position.”

The cowboy nodded. “I see. All men are slime, right?”

Darcy shook her head. “Not all. Just some.” Then she remembered something. “A minute ago…in my car. You said ‘operate.’ Is…is everything okay? Can you tell?”

His expression clouded. “Operate?” Then it cleared. “Oh. No. I mean, yeah, everything’s fine. Well, as far as I can tell. I just meant operate as in move around better.”

Relieved beyond measure, Darcy exhaled. Then she thought of something else. “Have you…ever done this before?”

“More times than I care to count,” he said with easy confidence. “But of course, I was helping to birth calves. I raise beef cattle.”

Great. Beef cattle. And now me. Darcy’s chin began quivering.

Which the cowboy obviously noticed because he changed the subject. “How’d you end up in this mess, Darcy? I mean out here on this road all alone. I figure the rest of it isn’t any of my business.”

Another pain began. Darcy gasped, her eyes widened, she tightened her grip on her knees. “Car trouble. Lunch. With my mother. Baby…not due…for two weeks.”

The cowboy grew alert, quietly looking from Darcy’s face to the place where the action was. “Well, someone forgot to tell your daughter, I reckon. Okay, here we go. Ride it out, Darcy. That’s good. Breathe. You’re doing fine. You need to push?”

Her eyes now squeezed shut, her neck muscles corded with her effort, Darcy nodded and shrieked, “Yes. I need to push, dammit. That’s what I’m doing. My back! My back is killing me.”

Suddenly her eyes popped open. The cowboy had grabbed her arms and was—she couldn’t believe it—literally pulling her to her feet, to a squatting position. “I’ve obviously never had a baby before, Darcy—”

“Well, neither have I, you…man, you!” It was the worst thing she could think to call him at this moment.

He blinked but otherwise ignored her outburst. “But I know what the Crow women say. It doesn’t hurt so bad if you’re squatting. It relieves some of the pain.” Then, holding her steady he reached around her with his other hand and rubbed her lower back.

Blessedly, unbelievably, she did feel better in this position. But weak, tired, certain she couldn’t keep this up, and wanting to be anywhere but here, Darcy leaned her weight into him, resting her forehead on his shoulder and clutching at his shirt. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m not usually this mean.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “I’m not usually this helpful.”

Darcy sniffled into his shoulder. Something else, something totally inconsequential, occurred to her. “Where’s your white hat?”

“In the cab.”

She nodded, breathing in the clean scent of warm man and aftershave. “Like the Lone Ranger.”

His hand on her back stilled. “What?”

“Your white hat. The white truck. Your being here to help me. Like the Lone Ranger.”

“I’m hardly the Lone Ranger. I don’t make it a habit to go around looking for damsels who need rescuing.”

“Well, I’m glad you did today. You got a cell phone? Need to call my mother.”

“Your mother? How about an ambulance?”

“My mother’s a volunteer at the hospital. She’d get an ambulance out here.”

“Makes sense. Yeah, I’ve got one, but not with me. Can you believe it? It’s back at the hotel.”

“Mine, too. At the house. Forgot it.” Then Darcy felt the surging pain again and clutched at him. “Oh, no. Here comes another one. Hold me.”

And he did. As her pain escalated, as it ate at the fringes of her consciousness, he talked to her…and rubbed her lower back. Darcy could only capture a few words, but she clung to them as if they were the keys to her sanity. Montana…means mountainous regions…land of blue sky…and cattle…beautiful country, Darcy…you ever been there…that’s good, you’re doing fine…lots of good grazing land…just here on business…can’t believe he came down this road…he’d been turned around, going the wrong way, otherwise—