Another pinch of pain hits my back, and I wince. I’ve been having them the last couple of hours and accounted them as hunger pains. I haven’t eaten since seven this morning except for a granola bar several hours ago.
I grab my water bottle, and then remember I’ve already finished it off. Looking at my gas gauge, I notice I’m at a quarter of a tank.
“Damn it,” I mutter. “Why did I think driving through Texas was a good idea?”
Sweat dribbles down my temple onto my cheek, tickling the fine hairs. Swiping it away aggravatedly, I lean toward the steering wheel as much as my belly will allow, and look ahead, hoping to see a sign or something that’ll indicate a gas station or nearby town.
The road blurs in the distance, giving off a deceptive mirage of a sheet of water.
My foot jerks on the gas petal, pressing down, when another wave of discomfort slices through me, this one more painful than the others. I let up on the gas and panic starts to set in.
What if I don’t find a place to stop? What if I run out of gas and get stuck on the side of the road? I’ve only passed one car in the last two hours. What if something is wrong with the baby?
I squeeze my eyes shut then jerk them back open to watch the road. My palms are sweaty on the steering wheel, my legs stick to the leather seat, and the pain in my back is getting worse. I take a calming breath and try to push down the anxiety. The last thing I need to do is panic. It’ll distress the baby and muddle my mind.
I try my best to concentrate on the road and not think about the pain. Something off in the distance catches my eye, and I squint to get a better look. I drive for another two minutes before I realize it’s a sign.
Relief leaves my arms feeling heavy and my body sags against the seat. A cross road to the left claims that Malus is twenty miles away. I blow out a long breath as I take the turn then rest my hand back on my stomach.
“We’re going to be okay, Bubba. We’re almost there.”
I speed a little—okay, a lot—down the road. What feels like an hour later, I see a house to the left. It’s old and decrepit-looking, but it’s the first building I’ve seen in what seems like ages. Another house appears, and sudden tears form in my eyes. Farther down the road is an old restaurant, but there’re cars parked in the lot, so it’s obviously open for business.
A moan escapes my lips when another round of pain grips me. I pant as I slow down and pull into the parking lot of the restaurant. Not caring that I’m blocking it, I stop behind a truck and shut off my car. I grip the door handle, but before I open it, I close my eyes for a brief second and take in several deep breaths.
Once the pain has dulled slightly, I open my door and get out. My legs feel like jelly as they wobble, and dizziness has me stumbling. I lean against the side of the car to keep from falling down.
“Miss, are you okay?”
I look up and see an older woman cautiously approaching. Her eyes drift down to my hands over my stomach and they widen.
“Meryl!” she shouts. I wince because the sound reverberates in my head like a wrecking ball has been let loose inside it. I clutch the silver cross I have hanging around my neck. “Get Dr. Trayce!”
I slip farther down my car and the old woman rushes over to me, moving fast for a woman her age.
“Now, now, darlin’, let’s get you down to the ground before you fall. These old bones won’t be able to keep you upright for long.”
Being careful not to put too much weight on her, I use the car and the old woman to help me until I’m sitting on the ground.
“Thank you,” I tell her then close my eyes and rest my head against the door. It’s hot against my back, but at the moment, I can’t move away. My energy is depleted, and my eyes feel like ten-ton weights hang from the lids.
“Whoa there, sugar. Stay up right until doc gets here.”
I crack my eyes open a sliver and see the woman down on her knees in front of me holding me by my shoulders. I lick my lips to wet them, but my mouth is too dry for it to do any good.
Black spots appear in my vision, and when the woman talks again, it’s too muffled for me to understand. I try to ask her what she said, but only a moan leaves my throat. Giving up, I decide to rest my eyes for a few moments.
Voices hit my ears, but again, I can’t understand them. A feeling of weightlessness overcomes me, and I try to open my eyes to see what’s happening, but they’re too heavy to pry them apart.
Maybe if I just sleep for a little while, I’ll feel better. With that thought in mind, I welcome the emptiness that surrounds me.
SOMETHING COOL RUNS across my forehead and it feels heavenly. It moves down my temple to my cheek before moving to the other side to take the same path. I moan and turn my head, trying to press my face closer to the cool sensation. I never want it to go away. It feels so darn good.
“How are you feeling?” a soft voice asks.
My eyes snap open in surprise and they lock on a woman with red hair standing over me. She has her hand extended toward me holding a rag, and I realize that’s what was smoothing over my face. I frown and press myself into the mattress.
“Who are you?” I feel a nudge in my stomach, and my hands fly to the baby bump there. Remnants of pain in my back flash in my mind, and I suck in a breath. “My baby,” I croak.