“Don’t worry about me, Millie,” Faith called out from her spot in the crowd. Wedged between her Aunt Orla and Mack’s mother, Joy, she had a front row seat to the miracle of childbirth. “You’re doing great!” she yelled out supportively.
Groaning, Millie met Mack’s eyes. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”
“Probably not,” Mack agreed, easing Millie’s drenched panties down her legs. “Just hang on, baby. None of this will matter once we’re looking at our new son.” Glancing over his shoulder at Zeke, he asked, “You got an ambulance in route to us?”
“Should be here real soon,” Zeke said with a nod, his eyes avoiding the prone woman on the ground as he motioned for his deputies to move the rest of the crowd away.
“I need to push, Mack,” Millie moaned, breathing rapidly as she drew in the cold winter air. “Can I push?”
Mack quickly checked his wife’s progress. Damn! She was already dilated to the requisite ten centimeters and fully effaced. “You’re ready, baby. You know the drill. On the next contraction, I’m gonna count to ten, and you’re gonna push with everything you’ve got.” Looking around rapidly, his eyes landed on Honor McKinnon’s concerned face in the crowd. “Honor!” he shouted, jerking his head to indicate he wanted her to come to him. Waiting until the young friend of Millie’s reached his side to speak, he ordered, “Honor, go around behind Millie and get behind her back. Help prop her up while she pushes.”
Honor quickly complied with his directions while he and Cain helped hold Millie’s legs up to aide in the birth. Feeling his wife’s abdomen begin to tense, Mack ordered, “Push, Millie. One, two, three…” he began to count, watching as the crown of his son’s wet head began to appear. His voice suddenly faded off into nothingness.
“Four, Five, Six,” Cain took up counting for Mack when the other man could only stare at his approaching son, barely aware that the supplies he’d asked the Wise Men to find were arriving and being stacked beside him.
Snapping out of his stupor, Mack continued counting, “Seven, eight, nine, and ten. Okay, baby, take a little rest,” he told his panting, sweaty wife. “You’re doing great,” he praised as Honor dabbed Millie’s sweating forehead with a handkerchief Zeke passed her. “I’m so proud of you. Take a deep breath for me. Another contraction is going to start any second now.”
Whimpering as another labor pain began, Millie heard Mack repeating the process, counting to ten as she felt him delivering their son’s head, “I’ve got his head, Millie. He’s gorgeous. One more big push to deliver his shoulders, honey. You can do it!”
They went on like this for another two or three minutes until suddenly a broken wail erupted from the red-faced, wrinkled squalling infant that was his son.
“Oh, God! That’s him, isn’t it?” Mille sobbed, lifting her head to stare down her body where Mack placed the angry infant on her belly for a brief moment.
“We’ve got our boy,” Mack announced proudly as a cheer went up from the small crowd behind him.
Quickly cleaning off his son and clamping the umbilical cord, he wrapped his child in a soft, warm blanket and passed him into his mother’s outstretched arms. Covering Millie’s legs with another blanket the men had brought him, Mack saw Zeke motion for the paramedics out of the corner of his eye.
Moving to her side, he took the baby while the EMS crew efficiently moved his wife from the ground to a gurney and quickly transported her to the ambulance. Looking over his shoulder, he winked at his daughter where she stood beside Bree. “Bring Paisley to the hospital for me, okay, Bree?” Seeing his sister’s quick nod, he climbed into the ambulance after Millie. Sliding onto the bench seat, he cradled his son protectively against his chest and smiled at his wife. “I’m so in awe of you right now,” he confessed. “You just gave birth to our son in the middle of winter, on the ground, without a single painkiller.”
“It all happened so fast,” Millie replied, shaking her head as she tried to comprehend the shock of the entire situation. “Honest to goodness, Mack. I wasn’t even sure I was having contractions for the longest time. By the time I realized what was happening, my water broke. Thank God that I’m married to an obstetrician. Are you sure he’s okay?” she asked worriedly, staring in amazement at her slumbering son.
“He’s perfect, baby. Ten fingers, ten toes, and a healthy set of lungs. You just rest now. We’re going to be at the hospital in no time.”
And as Millie closed her exhausted eyes, she knew that for the second year in a row, Paisley had gotten her Christmas wish, and this year’s wish was currently resting safe in his daddy’s arms.
THE END
If you enjoyed this little visit to Paradise, check out the other books in the Passion in Paradise series at Sarah O’Rourke’s Amazon page! Read a free sample and you’ll be hooked!
Acknowledgments
No book would be complete without a “big thank you” to our wonderful Crazy Crew Street Team. These chickadees dedicate hours to reading, critiquing, improving, and sharing about our work...because they are honestly just as crazy as we are. Thank you SO MUCH: Jane, Tabitha, Nicole, Renee, Ashley, Joann, Joanne, Danielle, and Crystal. You all are absolutely amazing and we are blessed to have you in our lives!
Thank you to Crazy One’s Momma, who is our chief editor. She often bemoans the amount of funding that was spent on our collective college educations, because apparently we both forgot every grammatical rule that was ever drilled into our little brains. We blame our children for that. We love you, Crazy One’s Momma!
Thank you to our amazing blogging friends who have gone above and beyond to share about our work. We stand amazed at your patience, your willingness to help, your dedication to all things books...you are the rock stars in our world.
Thank you to our amazing PA, Crystal Marie. Honestly, we weren’t ever quite certain we’d find someone just as crazy as us to fit into our little world, but you are perfect! Thank you for your hard work, sister. We appreciate you so much!
THANK YOU to our awesome readers. You have no idea how much we agonize over the words we publish, hoping that you will enjoy them. Thank you for continuing to buy our books, for sharing about our little world of Paradise, and for your wonderful support. We love you all dearly.
And...thank you to our families. Both of our husbands get a look of pure horror on their faces when we say those fateful words: “Honey, I’m starting a new book.” Thank you, M & G, for not smothering us in our sleep. (Not that we actually sleep anymore...night time is when the characters usually want to talk the most, after all.) We love you. Even during book release month. Maybe.
Playlist
It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas
Do You Hear What I Hear?
You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch
Little St. Nick
Angels From the Realms of Glory
Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree
Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer
What Child is This?
Please Christmas, Don’t Be Late
Santa Claus is Watching You
Kissin’ by the Mistletoe
I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus
Away in a Manager
The Homespun Holiday Page 16
