Faith, Honor & Freedom (2 page)

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Authors: Shannon Callahan

Tags: #Fighting for Freedom#2, #Romance

BOOK: Faith, Honor & Freedom
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We continue on for the next hour, each contraction getting closer and closer together. I keep glancing at the clock nervously, praying Sadie will get here in time.

“Sadie still isn’t here, love, and I think you’re close to having that baby. I can call an ambulance to come and bring you to the hospital, or I can try calling another midwife,” I offer, hoping she’ll accept either, but knowing it’s highly improbable.

“You really are bat shit crazy if you think I’m moving out of this tub,” she says before crying out in pain again. “Your grams taught you well. You’ll do fine.” She closes her eyes. “Um, holy shit, I think I need to use the washroom.” She tries to stand up, before sinking back down into the water as her stomach tenses up.

“Why does it hurt so much? I’m never having sex again!” she screams out. “I just need to poop!”

I watch a disturbed look wash over Jack’s face, and he moves to jump out of the pool. “Violet, no!” he cries.

“Jack, sit down,” I instruct. He still looks horrified, scanning the water, but he obeys. Vi’s body is being ravaged yet again, and I know her time is close, so I grab my cell phone from my pocket to check the time. Sadie has to be here soon.

“The pressure you’re feeling isn’t to use the washroom, it’s to push. I think it’s time,” I say calmly, attempting to put them both at ease.

“It’s not time yet, it hurts too much, push it back up there. I can wait!” she yells, panicking.

“Violet Walters, you are tougher than that. If she’s not here in the next …” I stop mid-sentence because I hear the door open and Sadie calmly saunter in. Looks like I won’t be calling 9-1-1 after all.

“You can tell there’s a full moon out there tonight,” she calls out from the front entry way in her singsong voice. I don’t bother telling her to hurry. Sadie doesn’t rush, not for anything or anyone in the world. It’s one of the main reasons she makes a great midwife. She’s calm, collected, and Sadie Sanford never panics. It’s hard not to feel like everything in the world is going to be all right when she’s near.

She makes her way into the living room, looking graceful as always. Her thinning gray hair is pulled back into a bun, and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses rest on her nose. She’s the stereotypical old granny, and I love her all the more for it. She doesn’t appear to be tired, but if I had to hazard a guess, she probably hasn’t slept in close to twenty-four hours. She should have retired years ago, but this community is hurting for homebirth midwives, and she doesn’t like for a woman’s choice to be taken away from her.

“Looks like it’s time for a baby,” she says, looking Violet over.

“I need to push,” Vi squeals.

“Don’t let me stop you child. Take a deep breath, and do what God put you on this green Earth to do,” Sadie says serenely. She grabs a fetoscope from her bag and brings it to Violet’s tummy, moving it down low until she seems to find what she’s looking for. That thump, thump, thump that tells us everything is going to be just fine.

“I’m still saying that’s a boy heartbeat right there,” she says.

“She’s having a girl, Sadie; someone to pay her back for all the hell she put her mother through growing up,” I snicker. Violet gives me the stink eye before resuming her cave woman cries. Jack remains silent, rubbing her back. He looks weak, and I’m worried he’s going to pass out. I grab him some juice from the fridge, and have him take a sip.

I let Sadie do her check-up and help Violet through the first stage of her pushing, which involves a whole string of
holy fucking shits
and
pissfuckshitdamns
.

“All right girl, it’s time to push that baby out. Now who’s catching, Jack or me?” Sadie asks. I watch as Jack’s face turns a whole new level of pale at the thought.

“I’m not going to do it right. I’ll hurt the baby!” he says quickly.

“You’ll do no such thing, child. Now, Violet I need a good strong push out of you with every contraction.” She does as she’s told, and I watch as Violet’s face turns red with push after push. I always hate the beginning stage of pushing with first-time moms. It’s hard to watch them in so much pain, with such little progress, sometimes for hours. Luckily for Vi, she’s got Sadie and me on her team, maneuvering her into positions to get the baby to turn properly and descend into the birth canal.

Finally, it’s time. I practically squeal with excitement.

“Violet, I can see a head. She’s got black hair, just like you,” I say excitedly. Finally time to see if she really is a girl! I watch as Violet’s eyes light up with a newfound determination and her pushes become longer and stronger. Jack has tears in his eyes as he whispers words of encouragement, stroking her back with dedication.

Vi lets out a loud cry, and I watch as a small little head makes its way into the water.

“Quick, the baby is going to drown!” Jack shrieks.

“What do you think the baby was doing inside her belly, child? Keep on pushing, Violet; you’re giving that baby everything they need through the umbilical cord. You just push when you feel the need to,” Sadie says tranquilly as she bends over farther into the tub. I encourage her to push with her next contraction, and sweep the hair out of her face. She’s pushing in the same position I had her laboring in, bent over the side of the tub.

Violet lets out another cry, and I watch as a squishy, cone headed baby slips into Jack’s hands. Tears spring to my eyes as I watch my lifelong friend and her husband become parents for the first time. She sinks down into the water, and Jack settles the baby into her arms, still attached to the umbilical cord. Sadie rubs the sweet little newborn’s foot, and they turn a beautiful shade of pink.

Vi doesn’t look away from her precious miracle as she announces, “It’s a boy,” with such pride. I watch with adoration … and a little bit of envy. Don’t get me wrong, she deserves this more than anyone I know, and I couldn’t be happier for her, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting it for myself, as well. I’m twenty-eight years old, and my childbearing years are quickly slipping by. It’s been ages since I’ve been with someone who I even thought marriage was a possibility with, and I can’t help but feel like maybe I’ll never have what Jack and Violet do.

Violet’s been my best friend since kindergarten. She stole my lunch on the first day of school, and somehow we ended up best friends. We’re both the no-nonsense type of girls, and there hasn’t been a fight between us yet that hasn’t worked itself out in record time. We have never gone more than a day without speaking, not even on their honeymoon. When she got married, she made Jack buy the house two down from mine. He may be a stubborn man, but he would move Heaven and Earth to make her happy, and that’s the kind of love I dream of.

She’s tried, unsuccessfully, to set me up on many blind dates, but Violet is actually terrible at picking out men. She dated a long string of losers before Jack pushed his way into her life and demanded she go on a date with him. It took a lot of convincing, but after that first date, she was putty in his hands.

I come out of my reverie and watch the two of them with their new baby boy.

“He’s perfect Vi. You did incredible.” She looks up at me and smiles genuinely. I don’t think she’s ever looked so happy, or so beautiful, in all her life.

“Did you want to cut the cord?” Sadie asks Jack.

“Ahh …” he stutters, turning off color again.

“Lana?” Vi asks.

“It’d be a great privilege,” I say, tears now threatening to form. Sadie passes me the scissors, and I wait for the cord to stop pulsing before I gently make the cut. I kiss his forehead softly and watch as he starts to root for his mother’s breast.

The wild, crazy, party girl, who could once outdrink any man in town and who could regularly be found cutting up the dance floor at our favorite club, Smash, brings him to her breast, and starts to feed him like she’s been doing it every day of her life. I watch in awe—the change motherhood has on women never ceases to amaze me.

“So what are you going to name him?” I ask.

“We were thinking Gavin Rhett,” Jack says, never breaking eye contact with his newborn son. My heart swells and shatters all in the same moment.

Rhett
. My brother.

He died three years ago during a drug bust he was working. Shot six times. We were all close growing up. He was four years older, and he and his best friend, Weston Hoss, used to protect Vi and me from anyone and anything. It used to drive us crazy when we were younger. Boys were too scared to date us, and girls only wanted to be our friends to get closer to them. Now, I would give anything to have that back again.

“Is that all right?” Vi asks cautiously.

“He would be honored,” I say, wiping the tears that are now streaming down my cheeks. I’m truly blessed with the best job and the best friends in the world. I should be thankful for that, it
should
be enough.

Chapter 2

 

 

The week after Gavin’s birth passes in a sleep deprived blur. I stay at Vi and Jack’s, cooking their meals, cleaning, and fixing sweet little Gavin’s latch issues while he learns to breastfeed. I’m heading back to my own house tonight, and it’s going to be tough. I try not to get attached to my client’s children, but honestly, she’s my best friend, and Gavin is adorable. It’s going to be hard as hell to go back to my quiet little house. My cell phone beeps, and I pull it out of my purse to read the message. It’s from my other best friend, Hoss.

Hoss – I have girly shit to do. I need your help. Can I swing by and pick you up?

Lana – Sure, I’m at Vi’s. Give me fifteen
.

Weston Hoss was my brother’s best friend since he was in diapers. Our parents have always been best friends, and I guess it just transferred over to the younger generation. Hoss is a detective now, but my brother and Hoss were police officers together before he died. I know that he still carries a lot of guilt around about that, and he feels like he owes it to my brother to protect me. We were never especially close, but since Rhett died, we have formed a special kind of bond. We both adored Rhett, and it just felt right to carry on that friendship. I know that’s what my brother would have wanted, and to be honest, it wasn’t all that hard. Hoss is a wonderful friend … when he isn’t being an asshole.

I saunter into the bathroom and check myself in the mirror. No makeup, black circles under my eyes, and my hair’s a mess. I swear, I really do love my job, but it can do a number on me some days. I throw my hair up in a ponytail, and dab a bit of concealer under my eyes. I apply a sheer coat of lip-gloss and a stroke of mascara. I’d like to do more, but I still need to check on Violet and Gavin, and there’s not much time left. Hoss has seen me in a worse state than this anyway. Hopefully he doesn’t take me anywhere public.

I tiptoe into Violet’s room where she and Gavin are curled around each other, sleeping peacefully. I give them both a once over to make sure everyone’s breathing before making my way into the kitchen where Jack is making coffee. It smells enticing.

“Hey, would you like a cup?” he asks sleepily.

“I’m actually on my way out. Hoss needs me for ‘girly shit,’ whatever that means,” I say, using air quotes. “Last time he said that, it was to buy a new stove. I swear the man still thinks he’s living among his fellow cavemen.”

“I remember that. You wouldn’t tell him a thing until he promised to cook for you.” He chuckles as he pours coffee into a travel mug for me.

“I swear he burnt the water before the mac and cheese even entered the equation. That man is the worst cook ever. The stove is there for his many girlfriends to cook for him.”

Jack laughs a beautiful, hearty laugh as I hear Hoss pull into the driveway.

“Thanks for the coffee. They’re still sound asleep in there; you should join them,” I say, giving him a concerned look. He’s been staying up most of the night with Vi and the baby, and while it’s sweet, he hasn’t been getting enough sleep since he doesn’t nap with them during the day.

“I need to get some work done. I start back tomorrow so I’ll try and get a better sleep tonight. Anyway, have a good day, and I can’t thank you enough for the past week, Lana. You’ve been amazing,” he says, handing me the travel mug. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face; nothing in the world makes me prouder than my job does.

“Thanks, Jack. That wife of yours is going to cost you double though,” I joke, and hear his throaty chuckle. I grab my purse and make my way outside to where Hoss is waiting impatiently. I climb into his black Chevy Avalanche, giving him a raised eyebrow.

“That has to be record time, Sunshine. Took less than five minutes to get you out the door,” Hoss says sarcastically.

“Whatever. You’re lucky I came on one of your sexist escapades anyway. Need help picking out household cleaners, or you couldn’t sucker a woman into cooking you dinner tonight, and you need me to do the honors?” I ask, pulling on my seatbelt.

“Oh, no. Maya’s coming over later,” he says with a wink as he pulls out onto the road. I make a noise of disgust. Hoss laughs again, running a hand through his thick, brown hair.

“So, what am I doing here? I was excited to get home today and take a nice hot bath.”

“Jack said I can come over and see the baby this afternoon. Need to buy some baby shit, and I have no idea what a baby needs. Figured you’d know,” he says matter of factly.

“You must be a genius,” I respond mockingly.

“Missed you too,” he laughs. “So where am I going?”

“Nature’s Children on Eighth Street,” I huff. In truth, I love baby shopping. I just like to be an asshole to Hoss. After growing up together, it comes naturally.

I glance over at him. He’s a little over six feet tall with dark brown hair, deep blue eyes, and at this moment, his chiseled chin is full of stubble. He hates shaving on his days off, and I love that about him. He’s handsome in a rugged kind of way, which I suppose is why he can bring home a new girl every night if he wants to, and usually does. He’s wearing a green and blue plaid button up shirt, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and dark wash jeans.

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