Small-Town Midwife

As he drove under the sign welcoming him to Camp Sonrise, a group of high-school and college-age kids crossing the parking lot with mops, buckets and other cleaning items stopped and stared. He rolled to a stop and kicked down the stand. By the time he’d pulled off his helmet, a couple of the boys were beside him.

“Nice ride,” the dark-haired one said.

“Yeah,” his companion echoed.

“I’m Myles Glasser, one of the camp counselors. You need directions or something?”

“I’m looking for Anne Hazard or her father-in-law.”

“Mr. Hazard just left for the store. He probably passed you on the road.”

Jon nodded. A pickup had gone by him.

“I’m not sure where Anne is, but I’ll get Autumn, her stepdaughter. She can probably help you.”

“That’s okay.” He lifted his helmet to put it back on. He didn’t have Mr. Hazard’s phone number, but he could leave Anne a message at the number he’d called this morning. Then he could kill some time at his office in the birthing center preparing for the staff meeting next week. “I’ll catch up with Mr. or Mrs. Hazard later.”

“It’s no problem. Autumn’s right over there on the lodge porch.”

He followed Myles’s outstretched arm to the large log building next to the parking lot, where Autumn was walking down the stairs. Jon weighed which was more asinine, his insisting on not talking to Autumn or his reluctance to tell her he’d locked himself out.

Myles relieved him of the decision. “Hey, Autumn, this guy needs to talk to you.”

Autumn turned quickly, causing her almost-waist-length ponytail to swing over her shoulder. She waved an acknowledgment.

A feeling of protectiveness waved over him as she walked over. He turned to the boys. “I know you’re trying to help, but you don’t know who I am.”

They looked at him blankly. “Should we?” Myles’s friend asked.

Was he that clueless when he was a teen? Probably. “I could be anyone. You don’t know that Autumn knows me.”

“Hi, Jon.”

The teen looked from him to Autumn. “But she does.”

“Never mind, and thanks for the help.”

“What was that about?” Autumn asked.

“I was looking for your grandfather or stepmother, and the dark-haired one, Myles, immediately volunteered to get you, without asking who I was or what I wanted.”

“They’re fifteen. They were probably too interested in your bike to remember their elementary school stranger-danger training.”

Jon didn’t know why her blithely dismissing his concern irritated him. What did it matter?

“You were looking for Grandpa or Anne. Is there a problem at the house?”

“Kind of.” He dropped his gaze and tapped his helmet against his thigh. “I seem to have locked myself out.”

Autumn made a soft choking sound and he looked up to see her lips twitch as she tried to contain her smile.

“I don’t suppose you have a key to my side of the house.”

Her smile broke through. “No, I don’t. Anne probably does at the house. Come on, I’ll take you to her. You can leave your helmet. It’ll be fine. I’ll tell Myles to keep an eye on it and your bike. They’re done cleaning the campers’ cabins.”

He surveyed the forest surrounding the parking lot and the kids milling around the camp and held on to the helmet.

A towheaded boy of about three charged at them when they entered the lodge. “Aunt Autumn. You came back.”

She scooped him up before he collided with Jon. “Silly Sam.” She rubbed noses with the toddler. “Of course I came back. I said I would.”

“Your nephew?” He didn’t know Autumn had any brothers or sisters. Then, why should he?

“No, Sam is my cousin. He belongs to my aunt Jinx and uncle Drew. Drew is the camp director. But Sam decided that, if Anne is Aunt Anne, I should be Aunt Autumn.”

The little boy nodded and pointed to a group of women talking on the other side of the room. “Aunt Anne.”

One of them looked like a slightly older, taller version of Autumn, right down to the long blond ponytail, or in her case, braid. Another was an attractive woman with light brown hair who looked about his age, thirtyish. The third woman was older, probably Anne, Autumn’s stepmother. Numerous children, all too young to be campers, surrounded the women.

“Who are you?” Sam asked.

Jon shoved his free hand into the front pocket of his jeans. Aside from the babies he delivered, children were alien creatures to him. “I’m Doc...Jon.”

“Uncle DocJon?” Sam faced Autumn, waiting for her answer.

A blush spread across her face and Jon noticed a light spattering of freckles on her patrician nose that he hadn’t noticed before.

“No,” she said, “just Jon or Dr. Jon.” She looked at him for confirmation.

He nodded. He’d been taught to address adults by Mr. or Mrs. or Dr. So-and-So, in the case of his parents’ associates. But it wasn’t like he was going to be seeing the kid on a regular basis.

“Sam has also decided that adults should come in pairs—mommies and daddies and grandmas and grandpas and aunts and uncles.”

“Oh.” That sounded brilliant, but he didn’t know what else to say. He looked pointedly at the group of women across the room, who were now moving toward them with a stream of kids behind. He should have just gone to his office at the birthing center.

Autumn waved them on. “Everyone, this is Dr. Jonathan Hanlon, the new director at the birthing center.” She went around the circle introducing the women as her aunt, grandmother—not stepmother—and Anne, and identifying the various children, ending with, “These are my brothers, Ian and Alex, and my sister, Sophia.”

“Call me Jon, please.” He felt a tug on his pant leg.

The little girl Autumn had introduced as her sister stood beside him, hands on hips. “Are you Autumn’s new boyfriend?”

“Sophia,” Anne cautioned.

Autumn seemed to be studying the laces of her sneakers.

“What? I was just asking.” Sophia raised her big blue eyes to him. “Autumn’s old boyfriend had to move somewhere else and she was sad. She needs a new boyfriend.”

Jon coughed. He didn’t think that was a position he was going to step into. When he’d asked Autumn out at Samaritan, she’d shot him down with a terse, “No, thank you.”

“No, Sophia, he’s not my new boyfriend. He works at the birthing center with me. I told you that when I have a new boyfriend, you’ll be the first to know.”

“’Cause we’re sisters.”

“Yep, because we’re sisters.”

“Sorry about that,” Anne said.

Obviously, the Hazard family didn’t subscribe to the tenet of “children should be seen and not heard”—or better yet, not seen and not heard—that he’d been raised with.

“Did you get all moved in?” Close up, Anne looked a little older than he had originally thought, but not old enough to be Autumn’s mother.

Like many of his father’s colleagues, Autumn’s father apparently had gone with a younger wife the second time around and a second family. He attributed his parents’ adherence to their marriage vows to the fact that they rarely saw each other. That and their passion to out-accomplish each other. His father couldn’t be happy sharing his mother’s research breakthroughs. He had to offset them with a new surgical procedure—and vice versa. To avoid anything resembling his parents’ relationship, Jon had made a pact with himself never to date other doctors.

He shook off the memories and answered Anne’s question. “Yes. Thanks for alerting the movers that I was on my way.”

“But he has another problem,” Autumn said. “He’s locked himself out. Dad must have another key at the house.”

He glared at Autumn. She couldn’t have pulled Anne aside and asked?

“We did,” Anne said. “But Alex flushed it down the toilet.”

“Sophie dared me do it,” Alex said as if that explained the matter.

“You tried the realty office?” Anne asked.

“Yes, I left a message there and on the Realtor’s cell phone. I’m surprised I haven’t heard back.”

“He’s probably out showing a property. If you haven’t noticed yet, cell phone coverage can be very spotty here. My father-in-law should have a key. Mary?” She turned to her mother-in-law.

“He does,” Autumn’s grandmother said. “It’s on his key chain. He’ll be back anytime. He went to the hardware store and is going to stop and pick up pizza for everyone. You’re more than welcome to stay and have some with us.”

After spending the day helping the movers, he’d thought he’d take a bike ride, which he had, get some takeout and relax in front of the TV. He glanced around the noisy room. Relax alone.

Autumn locked his gaze with hers. “We may be a little much for Jon.” She motioned around the room. “The kids and all.”

He tensed. She didn’t think he could handle them. Jon imagined eating with the kids. Tomato sauce, spilled drinks, grubby fingers. He pasted a smile on his face. “Sounds good, thanks. While I wait, I think I’ll go check out the lake.” He wasn’t going to let a few kids intimidate him. If his father had taught him anything, it was that a Hanlon never showed weakness.

* * *

Autumn watched Jon stride across the room and out the door. The speed at which he left confirmed her feeling that he’d been uncomfortable with her large, noisy family. She’d been certain he’d go off in a corner to wait for Grandpa, get his key and go back to the duplex. She had no idea why he’d agreed to stay.

A minute later, the screen door to the lodge pushed back open. “Was that who I think it was heading down to the beach?” Jamie’s voice carried across the room. “You had a change of heart?”

Autumn felt her family members’ eyes on her.

“Go ahead down to the lake if you want, honey,” Grandma said. “We really are done.”

Just what she didn’t need. The other women in her family joining in with Sophie and Jamie to try to fix her up with Jon.

“Eli,” Autumn said to the tall man who’d followed Jamie in with her daughters beside him, “can’t you do something with her?”

“No, not a thing. Why, what’s she up to?”

“Matchmaking.”

Jamie shook her head. “I’m encouraging her to get to know the new director of the birthing center better. We passed him on our way in.”

Autumn’s aunt Jinx caught her attention and rolled her eyes. At least someone was on her side. Maybe she should head home and catch the alone time she’d planned on this morning.

“Pizza delivery,” Grandpa’s voice boomed from the lodge porch, taking care of that decision.

“I’ll open the door,” Ian said, racing across the room.

She smiled. Anne was strict about what she let the kids eat, so pizza was a real treat for Ian. That had to have been a change for Dad, who’d pretty much figured in pizza as one of the three major food groups when Autumn was growing up.

“Go let your friend know food is here,” Gram said.

Her friend. As if she was Ian’s age. No, she was being too sensitive. As she passed by Grandpa, the spicy smells of the pizzas made her stomach growl, reminding her that all she’d had to eat today was the coffee with Jon and a granola bar she’d grabbed from the camp kitchen midafternoon. That would explain a lot of her crankiness.

“I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder as the door swung closed behind her. “Save some of the veggie pizza for me.”

“You can have it all,” Ian said, and everyone laughed.

Autumn paused on the porch. Jon could be anywhere along the lakeshore, so she headed to the most obvious spot—the camp swimming dock. The evening sun filtering through the trees made an interesting shadow pattern on the wide gravel path to the lake. When the dock came into view, she raised her hand over her eyes to block the sun and scanned its length for Jon. He wasn’t there. Fabulous. Her stomach growled again.

“Jon, pizza’s here.” Her voice echoed over the still water. She looked up and down the length of the camp’s waterfront as she listened for a response. She didn’t see or hear anything. Maybe he’d gotten tired of waiting and left. Except his bike helmet was up at the lodge, and she didn’t think he’d be that rude. More likely, he’d decided to take a run along the beach. He could be halfway around the lake. And she wasn’t about to hike the circumference looking for him.

Walking toward the dock, she spotted one of the megaphones the camp lifeguards used. She flicked the battery switch. “Jon, pizza.” This time her voice boomed over the lake, and she caught a motion to her right.

Jon jogged over to her. “That’s some voice you’ve got.”

She lifted the megaphone. “Me and AmpliVox. You didn’t hear me the first time?”

He shook his head and gazed out at the water. “It’s so quiet here. I’m surprised I didn’t. But I was a ways up the beach.”

“Quiet for now. Wait until tomorrow when the new campers arrive. That will make the family crew up at the lodge look like nothing.”

He frowned.

“So you admit it. You found the family a little intimidating.”

“I admit to nothing.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You didn’t happen to bring the pizza with you, did you?”

“No, I did not. But my brother Ian is saving some of the veggie one.”

“I’m more of a meat lover’s fan myself.”

Of course he was.

“Autumn, Autumn.” Ian raced up to them. “You have a phone call.”

“Do you know who it is, sweetie?”

“Your friend Kelly. She talked to Opal’s mother, but she wants to talk to you.”

Autumn turned to Jon. “It might be one of our mothers, although we don’t have anyone due for a couple of weeks.” She hurried ahead to the lodge.

Jamie handed her the lodge phone. “Kelly said to call her back on her cell phone.”

Autumn dialed the number and listened while Kelly explained the situation. “Okay, I’ll need to stop by my house. See you in a bit. Bye.”

She placed the phone on the table. “Sorry, Gram, Aunt Jinx. I have to go. Oh, Jon, did you get your key?”

“Yes. Is there a problem with one of your mothers?”

“No, come outside.”

They stepped out onto the porch. “Kelly got a call from one of her friends. The woman’s daughter is in labor and she’s afraid something isn’t right. The couple is free-birth. They were determined to have their baby with no interference from anyone. But the woman has talked them into letting Kelly come.”

“Free-birthers. The mother-to-be hasn’t had any prenatal care?”

“Not that I know of.”

“I’ll go ahead to the birthing center and make sure one of the rooms is ready.”

“Jon, we’re not sure the couple will even let us help with the birth. I doubt we can talk them into coming to the center.”

“Insist. You said the mother thought something was wrong.” Jon crossed his arms.

Autumn mirrored his stance. “We can’t make them go to the center.” She dropped her arms. There was no need to turn this into a standoff. Besides, this wasn’t her birth. It was Kelly’s. Kelly was in charge. Autumn swallowed the guilt that waved over her and didn’t try to distinguish whether it came from her not holding up her end of the practice work or the relief she’d felt because Kelly was in charge. How long would Kelly agree to go on managing all of the deliveries?

He placed his hand on her forearm. “You have to try to get them to the center.”

Kelly’s van rolled into the camp parking lot. Autumn gently pulled away. “No, I have to go help catch a baby.”

“I’ll expect a report on Monday.”

Autumn strode to the vehicle.

“And I’ll pray for an uncomplicated delivery,” Jon said in a less strident voice.

She nodded and climbed into the van.

“Who is that?” Kelly asked.

“Jon Hanlon, the new director of the birthing center.”

“Oh. What does he want you to report?”

“Our business.”

Kelly creased her forehead in question.

“I don’t know why, either. But whatever his reason, I don’t think I’m going to like it.”

Like she didn’t like the way he’d said they had to get the mother to the birthing center, didn’t like him expecting her to report in to him on Monday and didn’t like the way he seemed to think all he had to do was smile and he’d get his way.

Chapter Four

Jon tested the doorknob to the midwifery practice. It had been locked when he’d tried it on his way to his office earlier. This time the knob turned. He hesitated. He’d exercised great restraint yesterday morning by not going over to Autumn’s place to ask about her unexpected delivery on Saturday. Her car hadn’t been in the driveway when he’d left for church, but it had been when he’d returned. After giving her a few hours to catch up on her sleep, he’d glanced out and she’d been gone again.

Today, he had the good excuse of wanting to introduce himself to Kelly, along with finding out how the delivery had gone. He pushed the door open and looked around the empty waiting area. Two warm brown leather couches in the corner framed an oval coffee table, forming an inviting sitting area. Matching leather chairs were positioned a couple of feet away along the wall, one on each side of a combination table-magazine rack. A desk sat on the opposite side of the room, and paintings of a mountain scene and the monthly stages of pregnancy hung on the wall in between. He walked over and checked them out. They were both done by the same artist, probably a local.

“Can I help you?”

Jon turned.

“Dr. Hanlon?”

He nodded.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” the attractive, middle-aged woman with auburn hair said. “I saw you briefly at the lake on Saturday.”

He glanced behind her down the short hall. “You must be Kelly.”

“Yes.” She extended her hand. “Kelly Philips. Good to meet you. I would have introduced myself when I picked up Autumn, but I was kind of in a hurry.”

“Understandable.” He shook her hand. “And call me Jon.”

The office door opened, and Autumn’s voice rang out. “I’ve got coffee.”

Jon tightened his grip on Kelly’s hand, prompting a raised eyebrow from her. He quickly released it.

Autumn backed into the room. “I have your latte, a large regular for Jamie and my mocha.” She turned around, and the cardboard tray dipped dangerously to one side. “Jon.”

“Good morning.”

“Hi.” She righted the tray and handed Kelly her coffee.

“I stopped in to introduce myself to Kelly and see how your delivery went on Saturday.”

“It was really Kelly’s delivery.” Autumn looked to the other midwife. “Is Jamie getting the exam room ready? I’ll take her coffee to her.”

“I’ll take it, although I don’t know if either of us will be able to enjoy the coffee. Our nine-thirty appointment called and asked if she could come at nine.” Kelly checked her watch. “I heard the door open and close and came out to see if she was here and found Jon.”

Autumn lifted her mocha and handed the tray with Jamie’s coffee to Kelly.

“Why don’t you take Jon to your office and fill him in on the birth while I get ready for my appointment?” Kelly said.

Autumn pressed her lips into a pink-tinged slash.

Jon set his jaw. Evidently, talking with him was that distasteful.

“Maybe he’d like to go with you on your home visit with the new mother this morning,” Kelly said.

“Was there a problem?” he asked. Autumn had said Saturday that she didn’t know whether the mother had had any prenatal care.

“No.” Autumn drew out the O. “Why?”

“The home visit. Or do you do that with all of your home births?”

The office door opened, and a visibly pregnant young woman in a calf-length navy blue skirt and three-quarter-length-sleeved white cotton maternity T-shirt walked in, followed by two little girls. Jon guessed they were about two and three. The little girls wore matching sundresses with white T-shirts underneath.

“Hi,” the woman said. “Am I seeing you, Kelly or Autumn today?” She dropped her gaze as soon as she noticed him.

He’d have to ask Autumn if this was a family from the traditional religious sect his delivery nurse had told him about. Apparently, Dr. Ostertag had experienced problems with a couple of the families because they insisted on using only female midwives or doctors. He’d had concerns about an emergency arising when he was the only doctor available. Fortunately for Dr. Ostertag, none had.

“You’ll be seeing me,” Kelly said. “Let’s make sure your information is up to date.” She and the mother-to-be stepped over to the desk.

“Getting back to your question,” Autumn said as she turned on her heel and led Jon down the short hall to her office, “we make a home visit after all of our births, even the ones here at the center.” She halted at the door.

He didn’t know what he’d said to prompt the irritation in her voice. He was interested in the extra degree of care. “That must involve a lot of time. Have you found it cost-effective in the long run?”

She pushed the door open and motioned him to a couch that matched the ones in the waiting room. A coffee table was positioned in front of it. He sat at the far side. She placed her mocha on the table, opened the messenger bag slung over her shoulder to remove her iPad and sat at the opposite end.

“I haven’t done a cost analysis. Kelly may have. It’s her practice.”

Autumn worked for Kelly? That surprised him. He’d assumed she was a partner since Autumn had always said she wanted to practice near her hometown.

“I’m sure she’d be happy to share with you if she has.” Autumn touched the iPad screen to open her notes.

Jon pulled a paper pad and pen from his pocket. He knew digital medical records and notes were the way, but he still preferred pen and paper for his personal notes.

She rattled off the details of the birth while he scribbled on the paper.

He looked up. “The Apgar scores assessing the baby’s physical condition?”

“Seven at birth, eight at five minutes and nine at ten minutes.” Autumn read the results of the test.

* * *

As he recorded the Apgar scores, Autumn couldn’t help feeling he was scoring her, too. On what, she wasn’t sure. She tried to read the rest of his notes, but the combination of reading upside down and his handwriting made them indecipherable.

“I like that you did the third test. Seven isn’t a bad score, but you can’t be too careful with a new life.”

Or a mother’s life, Autumn thought, a flashback to her friend Suzy’s delivery filling her mind.

“You don’t agree?” he asked.

“No.” She cleared her throat. “I mean yes, I agree.” For the first time since he’d arrived in Ticonderoga.

“You frowned.” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

Autumn closed her notes. “That’s it.” She waited for him to stand and leave.

“About that home visit Kelly mentioned—”

“I understand if you have other things to do.”

“Nothing I can’t do later. What time are you leaving?”

She checked her watch. “In about twenty minutes. They live a half hour away, and the visit will take a couple of hours.”

“That long?”

Autumn’s mood lightened. The visit would take up the whole morning. This was his first official day on the job. Surely he couldn’t give up that much time. “More or less.”

Jon pressed his lips together as if trying to come up with a response.

She suppressed a smile waiting to hear how he’d work his way out of going on the home visit with her.

“You’ll have to drive,” he said. “I rode my bike.”

Her thoughts jumped to her clutter-strewn car. As if it mattered. She didn’t need to impress him. But he would need to sit somewhere. “I know. I heard you take off.”

His eyes sparked and the corner of his mouth tugged up.

A tingle started in her stomach and bubbled through her, giving Autumn an inkling of why all of the female staff at Samaritan Hospital had fawned over him. No! She mentally doused the feeling. She was not about to become the newest member of the Jonathan Hanlon fan club.

“I was up getting ready for work. I couldn’t help but hear.” It wasn’t as if she was keeping track of his comings and goings, if that’s what he thought.