"No," she said, shaking her head stubbornly. "You don't understand. My daddy swore that neither I nor Ronnie would ever see our baby after it's born. He's going to give it away."
"I doubt if-"
But Sabra didn't allow Tiel to finish. "He said the baby would mean no more to him than an unwanted puppy he would take to the dog pound. When he says something, he means it. He'll take our baby, and we'll never see it.
He'll keep us apart, too. He said he would, and he will."
She began to sob.
"Oh, my," Gladys murmured. "Poor things."
Tiel glanced over her shoulder at the others. Vern and Gladys were sitting up now, huddled together, his arms protectively around her. Both were looking on sorrowfully.
The two Mexican men were talking softly together, their hostile eyes darting about. Tiel hoped they weren't plotting another attempt to overthrow Ronnie. Donna the cashier was still lying on the floor facedown, but she muttered,
"Poor things, my ass. Almost killed me."
Ronnie, having reached a decision, looked at Doc and said, "Sabra wants you to help her."
He looked as though he were about to argue. Then, maybe because time was a factor, he changed his mind.
"All right. For the time being, I'll do what I can, starting with an internal examination."
"You mean her…"
"Yes. That's what I mean. I need to know how f
ar the labor has progressed. Find something for me to sterilize my hands with."
"I've got some of that waterless hand wash," Tiel told him. "It's antibacterial."
"Good. Thanks."
She made to get up, but Ronnie halted her. "Get it and come right back. Remember, I'm watching."
She returned to the spot where she had dropped her satchel, her soft drinks, and her sunflower seeds. She retrieved the plastic container of hand wash from her satchel. Then, getting Vern's attention, she mimicked holding a video camera up to her eye. At first he looked perplexed, but then Gladys nudged him in the ribs and whispered in his ear. Nodding vigorously, he hitched his chin in the direction of the magazine rack. Tiel remembered they'd been browsing there when the robbery commenced.
She returned with the bottle of hand wash and handed it to Doc. "Shouldn't she have something beneath her?"
"We've got some bed pads in the RV."
"Gladys!" Vern exclaimed, obviously mortified by his wife's admission.
"They would be perfect," Tiel said, remembering the disposable protective pads she'd seen on Uncle Pete's bed in the nursing home. They prevented the staff from having to change the bed linens each time a resident had an accident. "I'll go get them."
"Like hell," Ronnie said, dashing that idea. "Not you.
But the old man can go. She," he added, pointing the pistol at Gladys, "stays here."
Gladys patted Vern's bony knee. "I'll be fine, honey."
"You're sure? If anything happened to you…"
"Nothing is going to happen to me. That boy's got more than me to worry about."
Vern levered his rickety body up off the floor, dusted off the seat of his shorts, and moved to the door. "Well, I can't walk through glass."
Ronnie nudged Donna again, who instantly began imploring him to spare her life. He instructed her to shut up and unlock the door, which she did.