The Rancher's Baby Surprise

“I’m going to get my poncho from the truck,” he told her. “You’re already chilled. We don’t need you getting soaked to the bones on top of that.”

She eased back against the seat and nodded slowly, another shudder racking her form.

Garrett raced back to his truck, sending up a silent prayer of thanks to the Lord for placing him there when he had. Collecting the oversize poncho, he hurried back to the frightened young woman. Five more weeks. Please let it be false labor pains and nothing more.

Opening the car door, he called out, “Slide out and I’ll cover you with this.” He shook out the folded rain poncho and held it up over himself and the top of the car.

“I... I can’t.”

His brows drew together. “We’re far enough away from the water. It’s safe for you to leave your car.” But not for a whole lot longer, if Bent Creek kept rising the way it was.

“M-my seat belt is stuck.”

“Sit back,” he told her. “I’ll give it a try.”

“Okay,” she managed with a weak nod.

Leaning into the car, he reached around the rounded mound of her stomach and jabbed at the release button. Just as she had said, it wouldn’t budge. Chilly rain seeped into his clothes as he worked at the latch. Finally, he pulled back with an apologetic frown. “It’s not going to give.”

Fear lit her eyes. “Are you going to have to leave me here?”

“Not a chance,” he said, wanting nothing more than to quell the panic he heard in her voice. “I’m going to cut the seat belt away.”

“C-cut it?” she stuttered, the chill she’d taken on seeming to get worse. “Wouldn’t oiling the latch be better?”

“I don’t have any oil handy,” he told her and then with a regretful frown said, “I know you’d rather I didn’t damage your car, but with the bridge out and other possible flash floods hitting the area, there’s no telling how long it would be before 911 could get anyone out here.”

“After having creek water rush through the hood of my car, I think the worst of the damage has already been done.”

He nodded in agreement.

Suddenly, her expression changed, her breath catching as her hand moved to the pale yellow shirt stretched taut across her stomach.

“The baby?” he inquired worriedly.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Cut the belt,” she blurted out. Then, as if suddenly realizing the forcefulness with which she’d made her request, added, “Please.”

Hearing the urgency in her voice, Garrett reached into the front pocket of his jeans and withdrew his pocketknife. “I’m coming in from the other side,” he said as he stepped back and closed the door, wanting to keep her as dry as possible.

He hurried around and slid into the passenger side, yanking the door closed behind him. Shoving the rain poncho aside, he shifted to face the woman trapped behind the wheel. “Do you think you could hold the flashlight for me? It’s heavier than your average household flashlight.”

“Y-yes.” She reached out to take it from him, holding it firm despite the trembling he’d seen in her hand as she’d done so. With a slight adjustment, she centered the beam on the point where the belt and the latch met. It danced around slightly, but she did her best to steady it.

“Thatta girl,” he cooed again, as if talking to a wounded horse. Turning in the seat as much as his long frame would allow, he unfolded the razor-sharp blade. Seeing her tense, he said calmly, “What’s your name?”

“H-Hannah. Hannah Sanders.”

“Just hold real still for me, Hannah. This should only take a second.”

Her gaze dropped to the blade and she swallowed hard. “Y-you didn’t tell me your name.”

“Garrett Wade,” he replied, noting the fear in her eyes as she looked down at his knife. “No need to worry. I grew up on a ranch.” He worked the tip of the knife gently beneath the stubborn strap. “My father taught all three of his sons at an early age how to handle a knife properly.”

Her gaze lifted. “How old are you now?”

“Thirty-four,” he answered as he focused on the troublesome belt, carefully slicing into it.

She exhaled a sigh of relief. “So you’ve had lots of time to p-perfect your knife skills.”

“Enough,” he agreed, her reply causing a grin to tug at his lips.

A scant few moments later, he had freed Hannah Sanders from her restraints. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes.

Garrett stilled. “You okay?”

Opening her eyes, she met his worried gaze. “Yes. It’s just such a relief to be able to breathe fully again.”

He nodded in understanding, and then he folded and put away his pocketknife as his racing heart slowed. To think of what might have happened if he hadn’t gotten there when he had. “Now we just have to get you somewhere warm and safe.”

“Safe?”

He inclined his head toward the creek. “The water’s still rising. Best to clear out, just in case it spills over and tries to sweep your car away again.”

The look of relief he’d seen on her face faded away with his words.

Garrett silently chided himself for not giving more thought to the words he’d spoken. While they’d been truthful, he supposed he could have kept his concerns to himself. Unlike his brothers, he’d never been any good at saying the right thing when it came to women. Most likely because a majority of his time was spent in the company of animals. Not the best learning ground for social interaction.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he said. “And I’m a man of my word. Now just sit tight while I come around to help you out.”

“M-my purse,” she said, shivering. “It fell to the floor.”

Glancing down by his booted feet, he frowned. “I’m afraid I got mud on it.”

“That’s okay,” she assured him with a weak smile. “It’ll wipe clean.”

With a nod, he reached for it and then handed it over to her. “I’ll be around to get you.” Drawing the poncho up over his head, he slipped back out into the storm.

Hannah looked out into the darkness, the flashlight still gripped tightly in her hand. Its beam still directed downward. She watched through the pouring rain outside as her rescuer made his way around the front of her car.

Thank You, Lord, for sending this man to help us. She placed a hand against her stomach, feeling the life stir beneath it. “We’re going to be all right, little one.” While she didn’t know this cowboy who had rescued them, Hannah knew in her heart that he would keep them safe.

Her rescuer stepped up to the driver’s side door and eased it open. He had the poncho draped over his head, one long arm holding the outer edge of it over the Civic’s roof to help shield her from the rain when she slid out.

Clutching her purse in one hand and the weighty flashlight in her other, Hannah turned, easing a foot out the open door.

“Let me get that,” he said, taking the flashlight from her. “Now, careful you don’t lose your footing,” her said, his words nearly drowned out by the loud pulse of rain hitting the poncho he held extended over them.

Nodding, she pushed to her feet. Only it wasn’t the water under her shoes that had her going down. It was her trembling legs which promptly gave way beneath her. The next thing Hannah knew, she was being swept up into a pair of strong arms and carried away from her car and the raging creek beyond.

“I c-can walk,” she protested.

“I can see that,” came his reply, concern lacing his words. “But I’m not taking any chances. Not when you’re having abdominal pains.”

“I’m not having them now,” she told him, closing her eyes, too exhausted to say any more. When they reached his truck, she expected Garrett to set her on her feet, but he held her securely against him as he opened the passenger door and placed her, as if she weighed nothing at all, up into the spacious bucket seat.

“Don’t take the poncho off until I close the door,” he told her. “I’ve got to go unhook the towrope from the truck and then we’ll get going.”

As soon as the heavy door slammed shut beside her, Hannah worked her way out from under the poncho, her gaze searching the curtain of rain coming down outside for the man God had sent in answer to her prayers. She latched on to his shadowy outline, this kindhearted cowboy who had become her lifeline when she’d thought all was lost. By the time he’d climbed into the driver’s seat, Garrett was soaked from his wide-brimmed cowboy hat to his muddied boots. Beneath the fading glow of the truck’s dome light, she could see the beads of water dripping from the damp tips of his wet, wavy hair.

“I’m so s-sorry you had to get out in this storm,” she said as he reached between them to place his wet cowboy hat onto the floor behind her seat.

“Given the alternative outcome, I thank the good Lord above for putting me in the right place at the right time,” he replied as he reached back between the seats to grab a thick woolen blanket. Handing it over to her, he said, “Shove that wet poncho to the floor and wrap up in this. I can hear your teeth chattering from over here.”

Nodding, she draped the blanket over herself, relishing the warmth it provided. “I c-can’t thank you enough for coming to my rescue.” Her hand moved to her swollen belly. “Our rescue.”

His gaze dropped to the rounded, blanket-draped mound and then back up to her face. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to take you to my brother’s place, where you can warm yourself by the fireplace,” he said as he threw the truck into gear. “It’s closer than mine. We’ll hole up there until the storm lets up. You sure you’re all right?”

“I’m alive,” she replied with a grateful smile. “I’d say that’s far better than all right.”

He nodded.

“Do you think your brother will mind?” she asked, the chattering of her teeth easing somewhat as the blanket, along with the heat blasting up from the truck’s floor heater, began to ease the chill from her body.

“Jackson?” Garrett said, glancing her way. “Not a chance. The man is a social butterfly. He always welcomes company.” He turned the vehicle around and started back along the rain-soaked road.

The warmth filling the truck’s cab cocooned her as they drove through the storm. The farther away from the flooding creek they got, the more relaxed she felt. And tired. So very tired. She needed to stay awake. That was her first thought. But, as her eyelids grew heavier, she knew she was fighting a losing battle. While Garrett Wade was little more than a stranger to her, Hannah knew he’d been guided to that washed-out bridge by the Lord in answer to her prayers. He would keep her and the baby she carried inside her safe from the storm outside. Comforted by that knowledge, she closed her eyes and gave in to the exhaustion.

“Are you sure she’s only sleeping?”

“She’s been through a traumatic experience,” a vaguely familiar voice replied. “That sort of thing would wear anyone down.”

Hannah struggled to push away the haze of sleep as arms moved beneath her, lifting her. “Garrett?” she said sleepily, trying not to wince as her abdomen suddenly constricted, the pain slightly more intense than it had been before.

“I’ve got you,” he replied.

“You need me to take her?”

“I’ve got her,” Garrett said as he pivoted away from the truck. “Can you see to the door?”

“She doesn’t look to weigh much more than a bale of hay. I think my bum leg could have handled it.”

“Maybe so, but I promised to see her safely to your place and I intend to do just that.”

The passenger door slammed shut behind them as Garrett carried her toward what she assumed was his brother’s house, rousing Hannah more fully. She forced her eyes open, her gaze first settling on Garrett and then drifting over to the man keeping pace beside her rescuer. He was holding a large umbrella up over her and Garrett, heedless of the rain soaking into his flannel shirt.

As they neared the house, light from the porch spilled out across the man’s face. A face very like the man who held her in his arms. “You must be the butterfly,” Hannah said, trying not to show the worry she felt as the possibility that she might truly be in labor settled in.

He looked down at her in confusion and then cast a worried glance in his brother’s direction as they ascended the wide porch steps. “Are you sure she didn’t hit her head on the steering wheel or something when the bridge dropped out from under her car?”

Garrett hesitated, glancing down at her. “I don’t think so.”

“I didn’t,” Hannah replied with a slight shake of her head.

“But you heard what she just called me, right?” the younger man insisted. “Butterfly.”

“Oh, that,” Garrett said as they stepped beneath the protective covering of the porch roof. “She got that from me,” he explained as they crossed the porch. “I said you were a social butterfly,” Garrett added in clarification and then added impatiently, “Can you get the door?”

His brother yanked the screen door open and then stepped aside, holding it in place until Garrett had her safely inside the house. Then he followed with a frown. “You couldn’t have compared me to something else, like a wolf, for instance?”

Ignoring his brother’s muttered complaint, Garrett carried her into one of the rooms off the entryway, where he lowered her onto a large brown overstuffed sofa. Then he kneeled to slide the rain-soaked sneakers from her feet. “Best get these wet shoes off you.” He glanced back over his shoulder at his brother. “Got a thick pair of socks she could borrow?”

“Be right back,” his brother said.

“I don’t need...” she began, but he was already moving through the entryway in long-legged strides, his gait somewhat off.

“Yes, you do,” Garrett said firmly as he set her wet shoes aside and then adjusted the bottom of the blanket to cover her stockinged feet. Then he stood and took a step back. “You can’t afford to catch a chill.”

Too tired to argue, she said, “No, I suppose not.”

His brother hurried back into the room, a thick pair of wool socks in hand. “These might be a little big on you, but they’ll be plenty warm.”

She reached for them. “Thank you.”

“If you haven’t already figured it out,” Garrett said as she removed her socks and pulled on the pair she’d been given, “this lanky cowboy beside me is my brother Jackson Wade. Jackson—” his introduction was cut off as Hannah let out a soft gasp. His worried gaze shot to her face. “Hannah?”

She sank back into the sofa, a hand pressed to her swollen belly. “It’s okay,” she said shakily. At least, she prayed it was.

“Another pain?” he asked with a frown.

Jackson’s gaze dropped to the blanket covering the rounded swell of her stomach and his thick brows shot upward, clearly noticing her condition for the first time since she’d been carried in. “Is that... I mean is she...?”

“Pregnant?” Garrett finished for him. “Yes. And, despite her reassurance otherwise, I think she might be in labor.” He looked down at her. “Hannah? Should I call 911?”

His brother’s eyes snapped up, some of the color leaving his tanned face. “Labor? As in, having her baby right now?”

Dear Lord, I hope not. Hannah shook her head, refusing to believe that was the case. “I don’t think there’s any need to do that. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately. And then getting caught up in that flood, well, I’m sure they’re just false labor pains. I’m not even close to my due date yet.”

Jackson looked relieved. Garrett, on the other hand, didn’t appear to be as accepting of her reply.

“We should call your husband,” Garrett said. “Let him know you and the baby are safe.”

“I’m not married,” she replied.

“I see,” he said with a quick glance at her rounded abdomen.

Warmth blossomed in her cheeks. “The baby’s not mine.” The second the words left her mouth she realized how untrue they were. The child growing inside her womb was hers now, for as long as the good Lord willed it to be.

The two men exchanged glances. Not that she blamed them. She knew how that last statement had to sound to them.

“The baby was my sister’s,” she explained, tears filling her eyes. “She and her husband had tried for so long to have a child, but she could never carry to term. So, when the doctor suggested they look into finding a gestational surrogate to carry their baby for them, I knew I wanted to do this for her.”

“Was your sister’s?” Garrett replied with a gentle query.

Her hand went protectively to her stomach as she choked out the words, “Heather and Brian died three months ago in a car accident.”

“Hannah,” Garrett groaned. “I’m so sorry.”

She brushed a stray tear from her cheek. “I’ll manage.”

“Alone?”

“Women raise children alone every day.” She ran her hand over her stomach, a knot forming in her throat. “This child is all I have left of my sister. I’ll do whatever it takes to make his life one filled with love and happiness.”

“Is there someone else we could call for you?” Jackson asked.

Her gaze dropped to the floor between them. “No.”

“No one?” Garrett pressed worriedly.

“It’s just my father and me, and he’s been really sick with a virus. Probably brought on by all the stress of dealing with my sister’s recent death,” she said. “It’s been so very hard on him. Especially since we lost my mother a little over a year past. I won’t have him worrying himself even sicker over me when I’m perfectly fine. Just carless.”

Garrett nodded in understanding, yet the worried frown remained fixed on his handsome face. “We’ll see what we can do in the morning about getting your car out of there.”

“If it’s still there,” she said with a shudder.

“Either way,” he agreed, “it’s not going to be drivable. You’ll be needing a rental car to get back to...”

“Steamboat Springs,” she supplied.

“You’re a ways from home,” Jackson said.

Hannah felt another twinge starting. Please, oh, please, make it stop. “There was something I needed to do,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm when she felt the panic washing over her. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to freshen up a little bit.” And take a moment alone to collect herself. Stress wasn’t good for the baby and she’d been under so much of it. Was it any wonder she was experiencing premature labor pains?

Jackson motioned toward the doorway. “Take a left down the hall. The bathroom will be the second door on your right. In the meantime, can I offer you something to drink?”

“I think I might have a few packets of tea left in the cupboard,” Jackson replied. “Can I fix you a cup of chamomile tea?”

“It would help to take the chill off,” she said, another sharp pinch squeezing at her abdomen. Maybe she should ask Garrett if he could drive her to the hospital once the rain slowed, just to be sure she wasn’t in true labor. “But I hate to impose on you any more than I have already.”

“You’re not imposing,” he replied. “I like having company. I’m a social butterfly, remember?” he said with a glance in Garrett’s direction, causing his brother’s mouth to quirk in a barely suppressed grin. Then he turned back to Hannah. “That being the case, I just wish we had been able to meet under better circumstances.”

She nodded. “Agreed.” When the viselike grip took hold of her stomach, Hannah fought the urge to groan aloud. Shoving aside the blanket Garrett had lent her in the truck, she made a quick adjustment to the leather strap of her purse, securing it atop her shoulder as she pushed awkwardly to her feet.

Garrett reached out to steady her.

“Thank you.”

“Do you need me to walk you down the hall?”

Shaking her head, she lifted her gaze to meet his. “There’s no need. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think—” he began, only to be cut off by his brother.

“Why don’t we go fix that tea Hannah said she’d like to help take the chill away?”

“It doesn’t take two of us to make a cup of tea,” Garrett argued with a frown.

His younger brother arched a warning brow.

Reluctantly, Garrett stepped aside, watching worriedly as Hannah made her way past him and out of the room.

“I’ll tell you right now,” she heard him say as she walked away, “The cowboy in me doesn’t like leaving her to fend for herself in her condition. Not one little bit.”

Thank the Lord for cowboys. If not for men like Garrett Wade, she might have lost more than her own life. She would have lost the baby Heather had prayed so long for.

Chapter Two

Garrett glanced up from where he sat at the edge of the sofa, waiting on Hannah’s return, when his brother came back into the room carrying a steaming ceramic mug.

Jackson glanced around. “Not back yet?”

“No,” he muttered with a frown, his gaze moving past his brother to the entryway.

He followed the line of Garrett’s gaze with a deepening frown. “Maybe you should go check on her.”

He wanted to. Would feel a whole lot better if he did. But Hannah had assured him that she was fine. He had to take her word for it. “Best give her a little time,” he told his brother. “She’s been through quite an ordeal. I’m sure she just needs a little extra privacy to sort through all of her emotions.”

“You’re probably right,” Jackson agreed with a nod as he placed the mug onto the coffee table and then settled into a nearby recliner.

Garrett sat staring at the paper tag that dangled over the rim of the stoneware cup as the tea steeped. Rain pinged against the windowpane as the storm continued on outside. Beside him, the clock over the fireplace mantel ticked away the minutes. Too many minutes. What if Hannah’s legs had given out on her again? What if she’d fainted from all the stress she’d been under? Losing her sister and brother-in-law, suddenly finding herself in the role of mother-to-be, nearly dying in a flash flood.

“Maybe I will go check on her,” he announced and was just about to shove to his feet when Hannah, face alarmingly pale, stepped into the doorway.

The sight of her wan complexion and fearful eyes had both men shooting to their feet.

“Hannah?” Garrett inquired as he moved toward her.

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. “I think my water just broke.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in. Dear Lord. “You think?” Maybe she was mistaken.

“I’m pretty sure it did,” she said shakily.

He crossed the room to where she stood trembling. “Everything’s going to be okay.” He prayed he sounded more confident than he felt at that moment.

“I’ll call 911,” his brother said as he pulled his cell phone from his jeans pocket.

“I’ll take her to the guest room,” Garrett replied with a worried frown as he scooped Hannah up into his arms, using the utmost of care. Since her water had broken, he thought it best she not walk around.

She trembled against him as he carried her back down the hall to one of the guest rooms.

“I’m so sorry,” she said against his shirtfront with a hiccupping sob.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he assured her as he lowered her quaking form onto one of the twin beds lining the walls. “Are you in pain?”

“Not at the moment,” she choked out as she curled up on her side.

“But you’re still having contractions?” he deduced.

“Yes,” she confirmed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “And they’re coming closer together.”

He didn’t have the means to stop, or even slow her contractions. And with her water having broken, there was no turning back. Hannah was having her baby whether she was ready for it or not. “Looks like you’re about to bring that little one into the world. We’ll need to start timing them.”

Her hand shot out, grasping at the sleeve of his shirt. “He can’t come yet. It’s too soon.”

“Babies come early sometimes,” he said calmly when he was anything but. Still, he felt the need to say something, anything, to ease the fear he saw in those large, green eyes of hers. “They just need a little extra seeing to. As soon as the ambulance gets here...” he began, the words drifting off as her troubled gaze left his. Garrett turned to see his brother standing in the open doorway, looking nearly as pale as Hannah had only moments before.