His Dry Creek Inheritance

by Janet Tronstad

  “Lord, please,” he mouthed the words. He had never felt so helpless in his life. He wasn’t entitled to ask for divine help, but he knew God cared about Bailey. Everyone cared about her.

  And then Gabe pushed his way through. “I called from inside and the medevac helicopter will be here in ten minutes—maybe sooner.”

  “I didn’t know they had something like that,” Mark said, looking up at his old childhood enemy. Relief poured through him.

  Gabe nodded. “It’s new.”

  “Thanks,” Mark said, silently taking back every bickering word he’d ever said to Gabe.

  “She’s my family, too,” Gabe said as he stood there looking like he felt as useless as Mark. Then he perked up. “I’ll drive Mrs. Hargrove and Rosie in. It’ll take us longer, but they only let one person go in the helicopter.”

  Mark knew that was him. “Me.”

  Gabe nodded. “I think she’d want you with her.”

  “Anyone have any blankets?” Mark asked the collection of people around him. “We need to keep her warm.”

  Mark took his coat off and put it around Bailey. Then several of the other men did the same thing. Finally, a rancher’s wife stepped up then with several blankets. “We keep some in our pickup.”

  Mark put a tower of blankets around Bailey and she stirred, moving slightly and moaning.

  “Bailey? Honey?” Mark murmured, but she didn’t answer.

  Suddenly, he heard the faint sound of helicopter blades and looked up into the sky. Dark clouds were to the west, but he could see the lights of the helicopter flying below them.

  “They’re coming,” Mark said, in relief. Then he looked around. “Get some of these pickups out of here so they can land.”

  A handful of men took off to get to their vehicles and move them.

  The helicopter landed smooth and a medical person of some sort jumped down from the side door and came loping toward where Mark and Bailey were.

  “Her pulse is strong, but she hit her head,” Mark said as the man came close enough to hear. “And she’s very pregnant. I’m worried—”

  By that time, the medic was running his hand over Bailey’s back and examining the gash on her head.

  “It was good that she fell on her side,” the man said with a quick reassuring look at Mark. “You’re the husband?”

  “Friend,” Mark corrected him and saw the medic look at him with a little less friendly eye.

  “One of those ‘significant other’ deals?” the man said as the helicopter pilot joined the group, holding a regular gurney.

  “Let’s get her loaded up,” the pilot said. “This blizzard isn’t getting any better.”

  The medic and the pilot loaded Bailey on the gurney quickly.

  “Coming?” the medic looked back at Mark.

  Mark nodded. “Absolutely.”

  Then he tried to get up from the ground and realized he couldn’t. His cane had been buried under snow someplace close. He wasn’t even sure he could get upright with his cane. He’d crawl to that helicopter if he had to though.

  Gabe must have seen the problem because he stepped close. “Grab my arm.”

  With the other man’s help, he was able to stand upright. Someone else saw his cane and dug it out of the snow.

  “Here,” the man said as he held the cane out.

  “Thanks.” Mark took the cane and turned to go to the helicopter.

  “I’ll be there shortly with Mrs. Hargrove and Rosie,” Gabe called out as Mark moved as fast as he could. The medic gave him a hand to hold on to as Mark climbed into the helicopter. And then they were off.

  * * *

  Bailey felt like she was flying, but that was impossible. Unless she was a butterfly. Maybe that was it. She felt a warm cocoon all around her. Then she heard the sounds of voices and decided that couldn’t be right either. She tried to listen closely, but it sounded like someone was praying. That couldn’t be right either since it was Mark’s voice. It must be a dream she finally concluded. A soft, floating dream.

  And then the pain hit her. Something was wrong. The baby.

  “Dear Lord,” she whispered and felt someone take her hand. It was Mark; she couldn’t see him, but she knew it was him. He was here.

  “Please, Lord,” he whispered, too, and then he kissed the back of her hand.

  She gripped his hand even tighter. And then the blackness claimed her again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  They wouldn’t allow Mark into the examination room where they took Bailey. He wasn’t her husband, they said, and he had no papers showing he was the person she wanted notified of medical issues. They would not take his word for anything. He could sit in the waiting room, they said, and they would give him some information when they could. It suddenly seemed to Mark that it had been a grave oversight on his part not to marry Bailey before something like this could happen.

  How was he supposed to breathe if he didn’t know that she was okay?

  He paced the floor of the waiting room a couple of times, no doubt annoying the only other occupant—an elderly man who kept tapping his fingers against the side of his chair. The one place Mark didn’t go was a portioned-off area for children and he could see it was empty.

  When Mark saw Gabe enter the room from the hall, he walked as fast as he could to his childhood enemy and hugged him.

  “You’re a lawyer, right?” Mark asked after he stepped back. He told himself Gabe had no reason to look so shocked. Men hugged each other from time to time. Maybe not the two of them, but—

  “I am.” Gabe nodded cautiously. “Why?”

  “You can fix it so they’ll tell me all about Bailey’s condition,” Mark said, feeling better already.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Gabe said. “You have to be family. They won’t make an exception.”

  Mark thought a moment. “Tell them I plan to marry her. That should be enough. Don’t you think?”

  “Not really,” Gabe said. “The only one of us that they could even tell would be Rosie.”

  “Rosie?” Mark reared back. “They wouldn’t tell a child.”

  “Probably not,” Gabe agreed. “But legally she is the only family Bailey has. By bloodline, you know. Rosie and Mrs. Hargrove will be here in a minute. They stopped at the restroom.”

  They were silent as they waited. Then Mark started to pace the floor again.

  A nurse came through the door of the waiting room and Mark’s heart leaped, but she directed some comments to the elderly man and he followed her out of the room.

  Mark kept pacing. When he passed Gabe the second time, Gabe spoke. “So, are you going to?”

  “Going to what?” Mark asked.

  “Marry Bailey,” Gabe said.

  “How can you even think about that at a time like this?” Mark asked and continued to pace. “She probably wouldn’t agree anyway.”

  Mark had never felt more useless in his whole life. What good would it do to dream about marrying Bailey when he’d already failed to keep her safe? That was job number one of a family man. He should have never brought that dog home.

  He stopped pacing and the blocks all fell into place. Mrs. Hargrove was right. He had finally reached a problem so big he couldn’t fix it by himself. He needed help. Mark looked around. Gabe couldn’t help him; he’d already found that out. He didn’t know how to be a family man and no one could go back and erase the problems of his childhood. No one could help him.

  Then Mark remembered that he’d slipped that pamphlet into the inside pocket of his suit jacket—the simple brochure about God. He’d read it, but he figured he’d give it back to Mrs. Hargrove this Sunday or maybe just slip it back into the stack she had in her classroom without her knowing. It didn’t seem right to throw the thing away. No, he couldn’t do that.

  Mark had his fingers on the
pamphlet when the door to the waiting room swung open right in front of him.

  “Mrs. Hargrove. Rosie,” Mark said in greeting. He left the pamphlet right where it was in his pocket. Before anyone else could speak, Rosie screwed up her face and took off running toward him, her feet tapping along the tile floor and her petticoats swinging. She launched herself at him, forcing him to fall with her tucked against him right into the nearest chair.

  “Umph,” Mark said as he finished absorbing the hit. By the time they had landed safely, Rosie was in his lap, crying so hard she had the hiccups.

  “Easy now,” Mark murmured as he rubbed the girl’s back. She was curled up against his chest. He felt her gasping sobs and worried she might faint.

  Mrs. Hargrove must have decided to get some coffee, because she had left the room by the time he glanced up.

  “It’ll be okay,” Mark murmured, trying to assure Rosie and him both. He wished he had the hope he was pretending to have for her sake. It suddenly occurred to him that he would have some of that assurance if he had completed the steps in that pamphlet. It was hard to trust God though. He couldn’t just run crying to God like Rosie had come to him. Although, right now, he wished he could. God was the only one who could fix the feelings he had inside from his childhood.

  Not knowing what else to do, he held Rosie with one arm and kept rubbing her back with the other. Finally her sobs quieted.

  He thought the storm had passed. Then she looked up at him and he knew he was wrong.

  “It was my fault,” Rosie whispered in despair and then the words gushed out of her. “I wasn’t supposed to scream for the poor doggie and then I did and Mommy fell. I shouldn’t have done it. I was to blame. I wanted to show Billy Baker what I could do with my guard dog and my mommy fell.” She gulped. “Is my mommy going to die? Like my daddy did?”

  “No, oh no,” Mark said as he pulled her closer. He didn’t care what the truth was; he only knew what his heart told him. “She’ll be better. You’ll see.”

  Rosie caught her breath and collapsed against him again.

  “And it was an accident,” he said to her. “No one was to blame.”

  Rosie took a few ragged breaths and looked up at him.

  “Not even Billy Baker?” Rosie asked. Mark could tell the storm had quieted because she sounded a little prissy and self-righteous. “We’re not supposed to run in the café. He should know that. Maybe it is all his fault. He ran inside before he went outside.”

  Rosie seemed to be more comforted by that thought than she should be, but Mark couldn’t let it stand.

  “Your mother wouldn’t want you to blame yourself or anyone else,” Mark said. “Not even Billy Baker. And you know Billy is fine. The dog is fine.”

  Rosie didn’t answer. She just put her thumb in her mouth. He’d never seen her do that before, but he didn’t say anything. She was exhausted.

  “Josh said to tell you he’s staying on the ranch tonight. Maybe I should drive Rosie home. She’d be fine with Josh,” Gabe suggested. “I can come back and get you and Mrs. Hargrove later.”

  Mark felt Rosie grab on to his shirt like it was a life raft and she was sinking.

  “No,” she whispered. “I want you.”

  “She’s fine here,” Mark said. The truth was he needed her as much as she needed him. “There’s a small couch in that corner.” He nodded with his head toward the section that was labeled for children. “If she wants to sleep, she can stretch out in there. Anyway, they’ll probably come out and tell us something soon. Maybe Bailey will even be okay and we can all go back home tonight.”

  Gabe didn’t answer that. He just lifted his eyebrow and sat down in a side chair.

  Mark sat there holding Rosie and trying not to pray. His sense of fair play told him it was presumptuous to be asking God for anything. Maybe Mrs. Hargrove would come back soon and he could ask her to pray. That was a surer way to do things.

  After some time Gabe left in search of coffee and Mark felt his leg go numb from Rosie’s weight. He didn’t mind. Then he felt Rosie stir and decided he should take her back to that couch. He started to flex his leg so it wouldn’t collapse when he stood. Rosie seemed to settle back into sleep, but he figured he should still move her so he slowly stood up. His leg felt sturdy enough to make it the few yards he’d have to carry the girl. He carefully made their way to the couch.

  Rosie stirred when he laid her down.

  “Easy now,” Mark said as he took off his suit jacket and covered her with it.

  She snuggled into the warmth of the coat for a minute and then she drowsily opened her eyes, looked at him and smiled.

  “Will you be my daddy some day?” she asked.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” he said softly. “I don’t know how to be a daddy, but you’re going to have a good one someday. I’m going to make sure you find him.”

  Rosie’s eyes measured him calmly. “I can help you be a daddy.”

  “You can?” Mark asked, surprised.

  She nodded and held up one finger. “First, you need to check to see if I brushed my teeth. Oh—” She put her hand over her mouth in alarm and then confessed. “I didn’t brush them tonight.”

  “Tonight’s okay,” he assured her.

  “Then you tell me a bedtime story about a princess,” she continued and gave him an admonishing look and put up a second finger. “A good story, not from the newspaper.”

  “I am sorry about doing that,” Mark said.

  He didn’t know what else to say.

  Rosie made room for him on the couch and he sat down.

  “You can forget about me brushing my teeth if that’s too much to do,” she said graciously.

  “A princess needs strong teeth,” he told her.

  Rosie nodded. “I guess.” She was quiet and then added. “A daddy needs to take care of Mommy, too. But, don’t worry, I can help. I’m a good helper.”

  “Yes, you are.” Mark kissed her on the top of her head and her eyelids drifted down. She was asleep again before he could have counted to ten. Mark wondered if she would even remember their conversation when she woke up in the morning. He knew he’d never forget it. It made him want to be a better man than he was.

  He slipped that pamphlet out of his suit jacket and took it back out into the main part of the waiting room. He was going to give it another study. This time when Mark read the words of Jesus, his eyes welled up so that he could hardly see Mrs. Hargrove when she came back into the room, two cups of coffee in her hands.

  She didn’t say anything. She just walked over and set the coffee cups down on the small table. Then she opened her arms and he fell into her embrace like he should have done when he was a child. She sat with him while he said the prayers the pamphlet suggested. Mark asked forgiveness for his sins and welcomed Jesus into his heart.

  “I don’t know what took me so long,” he said to Mrs. Hargrove when he finished. He felt like a new man.

  “You came to Him now,” she answered. “That’s the important thing.”

  Mark felt his heart ease. “Help Bailey, Lord.” It was a relief to be able to ask.

  In a while, Gabe wandered back into the room with his own cup of coffee.

  Almost on his heels, a white-coated doctor came inside.

  “We’re moving Bailey Rosen over to the maternity level,” the doctor announced. “She’s hoping there’s a Mrs. Hargrove here. Her breathing coach.”

  “That’s me,” Mrs. Hargrove stood up. “Is the baby coming?”

  The doctor grinned. “It’ll be a few hours.” She looked at Mark and Gabe. “One of you the father?”

  Mark was tempted, but he couldn’t lie. “I hope to be someday, but I’m her good friend.”

  “I’m her cousin,” Gabe said.

  “Second cousin, once removed,” Mark corrected the man. “To Junior. Almost a stranger
to Bailey.”

  Gabe grinned. “But available.”

  “I’ll stick with Mrs. Hargrove,” the doctor said as she started to leave the room. “But if she wants to see either one of you, I’ll let you know.”

  With that, the women were gone and Gabe and Mark sat there.

  “My house isn’t that far from here,” Gabe finally said. “I think I’ll go get some sleep. You’re welcome to take the bed in my guest room if you want. I have a room for Rosie, too.”

  “Thanks,” Mark said. “But Rosie’s sleeping okay on the couch and I won’t be dozing off. I’m too wired.”

  Gabe nodded. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

  Gabe left and a passing nurse dropped off a couple of blankets. Mark wrapped one around Rosie and took the other one to wrap around his shoulders in one of the chairs in the waiting room. He was meant to be right here with Rosie and Bailey, he told himself. They were the closest thing he had to a family and he wanted to be there for them.

  * * *

  On the other floor in the clinic, Bailey felt the cramps coming. The lights were soft and she heard the sounds of machines and then the footsteps of someone coming.

  “Did you find her?” she asked the nurse who was looking down at her.

  “She’s coming.”

  Bailey felt another pain and gasped.

  Then she saw Mrs. Hargrove’s familiar face and the older woman took her hand.

  “Where’s Rosie?” she asked her friend. “And Mark?”

  Mrs. Hargrove smiled. “Downstairs in the waiting room. Praying for you.”

  Bailey leaned up in surprise. “Mark’s praying?”

  “Especially Mark,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “He’ll tell you all about it later. In the meantime, we have a baby to welcome to this world.”

  Bailey nodded. She was ready now.

  “Father, thank you,” she prayed.

  “Breathe,” Mrs. Hargrove said and Bailey fell into the rhythm they’d practiced.

  It wouldn’t be long and she would have a brand-new baby.