Texas Miracle

Jacqueline raised her hand to her mouth. “Oh, no! How far along is she?”

“Thirty-two weeks.”

“Oh, Mac, I hope everything will be okay. What can I do for you—and them?”

“Joiner asked us to pray so you can do that. I can’t stay here, though. I need to go and be with them.”

“Yes, go. I can take care of the office.”

“Thank you, Jacqueline.” He stared at her for a long moment, warmth washing over him. “I am so glad you are here.”

She smiled and then rose from her chair, coming around the counter to where he was putting on his coat. Taking him by complete and sweet surprise, she pulled him into her arms. She hugged him tightly around the waist. He smelled jasmine in her hair, which felt like satin against his cheek. For a moment, he closed his eyes and breathed in the comfort of her affection. Then he raised his hand to her face, touching it gently, and whispered, “Thanks,” before going out the door.

He reached Tyler Memorial in record time. Finding the Labor and Delivery area quickly, he parked his truck and ran up the stairs two at a time to the third floor. “Stella Temple?” he inquired at the front desk, and a nurse showed him to observation room number two.

Joiner sat beside Stella, who was lying on a gurney hooked up to several machines. She opened her eyes lazily and greeted Mac. “He needs some lunch.” She motioned at Joiner, her speech a drunken slur. “And Pops.” Then she dozed back off. Joiner, whose face was drawn with worry, broke into a smile at this and released her hand, rising out of his chair to embrace Mac.

“Hey, buddy.” Mac squeezed him hard.

“Thanks for coming. You sure got here fast.”

“Where’s Buster?”

“Gone to the bathroom.” Joiner sat back down beside the gurney, taking Stella’s hand again. Mac sat down in the seat beside him.

“What’s going on?”

“They’ve ruled out the gallbladder. Now they’re saying it could be reflux or possibly something to do with her liver.”

“And the baby?”

Joiner pointed to a screen hooked to one of the monitors. “That’s her. See the heartbeat and oxygen levels? Everything’s great right now. No problems.”

“That’s good news.”

“Yeah. We were really worried when we got here.” Joiner sighed. “It’s a big relief that the baby is fine. But we’ve got to get this pain figured out with Stella.”

“Looks like she’s feeling pretty good right now.” Mac smiled wickedly, nodding at the snoring Stella.

Joiner kissed her hand. “They’ve got her doped up pretty strong. She was in terrible pain when we got here.”

“Poor thing.” Mac smoothed Stella’s hair.

Buster appeared in the doorway with a cup of coffee for himself and Joiner. “Hey there, Mac. You want a cup? It’s right around the corner.” The older man’s overalls were worn in the knees and his boots caked with mud.

“No, thanks, Buster. But I’ve had instructions to go get you men a bite to eat.”

“Stella?” He looked lovingly at his daughter.

“Yes. She doesn’t want you going hungry. Woke up just long enough to give me orders.”

“Ha, ha. That sounds like ’er.”

Stella opened her eyes and stuck out her tongue at them, then recommenced snoring.

“What are you in the mood for, Joiner? Buster? I’ll go pick something up.”

* * *

MAC RETURNED WITH two sandwiches and jalapeno-flavored potato chips, along with lemonades. Joiner and Buster devoured their food like starving men. Buster looked up at Mac between bites and explained, “We eat breakfast early on the ranch.”

Mac took the chair opposite them and waited. It seemed as if the room had a revolving door of nurses, phlebotomists, ultrasound technicians and doctors. Cullen and Hunt arrived just in time after Cullen’s afternoon class to hear the news: blood work confirmed that Stella had HELLP syndrome, a form of preeclampsia. She would need to deliver the baby early. In fact, she’d be admitted, moved to a room and prepped to induce labor—the baby would be born the following morning.

While Joiner and Stella asked the doctor questions, the brothers got on their phones and let wives and families know. Mac called Alma, who, in excited Spanglish, instructed him to text her a list of things Joiner and Stella needed so she could go to their house to pack a bag for them. Then he called Jacqueline.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I think I’ll stay here all evening and then come home, but I’ll need to come back in the morning. I want to be here when the baby is born.”

“Sure. Of course.”

She seemed to understand all he wasn’t saying. “Would you like to have the day off?”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do, Mac. We’ve had several people bring in their tax stuff today and I imagine it could be that way all week. I kind of hate to close the office.”

Mac smiled. She hated to close the office.

“But I understand if you want me to. I mean, if you want it closed without you here.”

“You are spoiling me, Jacqueline. Not closing never would have been an option before. But your skills have rendered my presence a lot less valuable.”

She snorted. “Not less valuable. Just a little less required.”

He grinned. “Well, thanks a lot. I think.”

She laughed, that musical sound again.

“Don’t work too hard,” he said.

“Keep me posted when you can.” Her voice turned tender with concern.

“I will.” As Mac hung up the phone he felt warm, content. It was nice to have someone to call, to share his news.

* * *

THE ROOM STELLA moved to was sumptuous by regular hospital standards. It seemed pains were taken to make Labor and Delivery friendlier, more comfortable. “It’s the happiest wing of the hospital!” a chipper Certified Nursing Assistant sang out as he brought in extra chairs to accommodate the family. The expression on Joiner’s face, however, was not happy.

“Superman,” as the brothers had dubbed him since the movie Man of Steel featured Joiner’s look-alike in the role, was drawn up as tight as a bowstring. When Gillian and Sarah arrived, the brothers suggested they take him and Buster out for a bite to eat. But Buster, assessing the situation, said, “Joiner, you go on and get outside for a minute. You’ve got a long night ahead of you. I’ll stay here till you get back, then I’m going home to my own bed. I’ll tend the animals and be back in the morning.”

Stella nodded. “I’ll be out of it in a few minutes, anyway. They just gave me another dose of pain medicine. Go eat. Get out of here.” She shooed him with her IV-laden hands, smiling bravely.

“We’ll be here, too,” Sarah said.

Finally, Joiner agreed. “I guess I’ll go since Mac’s buying.” He managed a grin in Mac’s direction.

They piled in Mac’s truck, which had front and backseats, and he drove just a few blocks away to a steak house. Although he was the most conservative spender of his brothers, he also believed there was a time for extravagant gestures, and he ordered a blooming onion, Aussie fries and beers with limes for everyone. He watched as Joiner’s shoulders visibly relaxed.

“So tell us everything,” Hunt implored Joiner.

“Everything went fast there at the end, didn’t it, Mac?” Joiner began. “All day they’ve run tests, thinking it could be gallbladder, acid reflux, different stuff. But that last blood work came back with wacky liver enzymes and I guess that’s when they knew it was this HELLP syndrome.” Joiner rubbed his eyes. “You heard what the doctor said. The only way to stop it is to get the baby out.”

“I didn’t hear everything you asked him, though,” Cullen said. “Did you ask something about the timing? Like why the baby has to come now?”

“I did. You know the baby looked good all day on the monitor. So Stella and I were both wondering if she could stay in there awhile longer, you know, like maybe two more weeks, if they could just control Stella’s pain.”

“Yeah, makes sense.” Hunt said. “Give those lungs a little longer to develop.”

“That’s exactly what we were thinking,” said Joiner. “But the doctor said absolutely not. He said if they didn’t take the baby out, both she and Stella would be dead in two weeks.”

“That’s terrifying!” Cullen’s eyes were as big as Texas.

Joiner nodded gravely.

Mac adjusted his glasses with shaking hands. “I’m just thankful you brought her when you did, and they caught everything quickly. From what I heard, the prognosis sounds very hopeful.”

“Yes. Yes it does.” Joiner nodded. “Dr. Laws seems to think babies are pretty safe to be born after twenty-eight weeks and we are in the thirty-second.”

“That’s great,” said Hunt.

“It’s not ideal.” Joiner squeezed his hands into fists. “But probably—surely—everything will be okay.”

Mac patted Joiner on the back. “I believe it will. Stella is a strong woman.”

Joiner sighed. “It’s not how we planned it, but I have to trust God has a plan.”

They ate their steaks in relative silence compared with the usual brotherhood meetings back in Kilgore. It seemed there was everything and nothing to say. The gravity of the situation—its danger as well as its potential joy—hung in the air around their table.

Joiner didn’t hurry them, but Mac knew he wanted to get back to the hospital. He tried to pay the bill in secret. Mac saw and stopped him. “This one’s on me. It’s not every day a guy becomes an uncle.”

* * *

THEY ALL HUNG out in Stella’s room for a few hours after Buster left. Alma and her husband, Felix, arrived with a bag of clothes and toiletries for Joiner and Stella, along with hot sopaipillas and honey. Thirty minutes or so after they left, Hunt and Cullen drove back to Kilgore with their wives. Mac stayed till bedtime.

“I’ll see you in the morning. Try to get some rest.” He kissed Stella on the cheek.

She squeezed his hand. “Thanks for taking care of us.”

“Love you, girl,” Mac said.

“Love you back.”

As he and Joiner walked toward the door, his brother said, “The plan is to start Pitocin about seven o’clock.”

“I’ll be here at eight—that good?”

“How will you manage that with work?”

“It’s already managed. New assistant, Jacqueline, remember?”

“That’s good.” Joiner hugged him hard. “Thanks for everything.”

On the way home, Mac decided to call Jacqueline, not because he had any new news to report or even because he was curious about what might have happened at the office. He wouldn’t admit this to her, and most certainly not to himself, but he decided to call simply because he wanted to hear the sound of her voice.

CHAPTER NINE

NEMESIS PURRED IN her lap as Jacqueline read and highlighted pertinent sections of the Texas tax code. Sixteen people had brought bundles of tax information by the office that day and she wanted to have them in order for Mac to begin processing when he returned to work, which she presumed would be Wednesday. Wearing her midnight blue velvet-fleece robe that tied at the waist with a rope tassel, she lounged on her couch across from the lit fireplace. She was fresh from the shower, hair wet and falling forward, tickling Nemesis’s ears when she bent her head a certain way. The kitten alternated between batting it and fussing over her robe’s tassel. Jacqueline’s long legs stretched the length of the couch and she wore slippers to keep her feet toasty.

The phone on the table beside the pecans flashed on. She had turned the ringer off, but had kept the phone in her vision all evening in case Mac called.

“Hello?”

“Hey there. I hope it’s not too late to call.” His voice was as smooth as a chocolate truffle. But he sounded tired. It was ten o’clock.

“Well, I do have this mean boss who makes me get up early.”

Mac chuckled. “That’s not what I heard. I heard you were running the place.”

“Ha! Right.”

“I guess you can make up your own hours tomorrow.”

Jacqueline stroked the kitten’s fur. “Nemesis and I were just thinking about you.”

“Nemesis? And what were you and Nemesis thinking?”

“We were wondering if you were in the vicinity.”

“I’m actually on the road back from Tyler.”

“Hmm. I’m in my robe, but I would gladly put on my best sweats if you’d like to stop by for tea and sympathy.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’d love some sympathy.”

Jacqueline’s heart warmed toward him even more. “Rough day?”

“Not near as rough for me as Joiner and Stella. But yeah. I’m beat.”

“You don’t have to stop by—”

“It’s too late, you temptress. I’ve already exited. Put the kettle on.”

“Will do, boss.”

Jacqueline changed from her robe into gray sweats and a KARIS T-shirt. The kettle was just beginning to whistle when Mac’s headlights shone in the driveway. She flipped on the front porch light, as well as the light above the side door, where he knocked.

“Come on in!”

He opened the door and stepped inside.

He removed his hat and coat. “You want me to take off my boots, too?” He motioned to a metal boot rack where she kept her rain boots and a pair of running shoes.

“Suit yourself,” she said. “It’s kind of ‘anything goes’ around this house.” Jacqueline took his coat and hung it on a hook. He set his hat on the table with the lamp and followed her, bootless, into the kitchen.

“Don’t bother sitting on the doll furniture.” Jacqueline grinned. “Just let me get the tea and we’ll go into the living room.”

Mac went ahead of her and warmed himself by the fire. A few minutes later, she followed him, shuffling along in her slippers. She set a wooden tray on the coffee table. It held two mugs, a thermal carafe of water and an assortment of teas. There was also a salad plate with oatmeal cookies. “I made these tonight. My grandma’s recipe.”

They sat together on the couch. “I like your glasses,” Mac said. “I didn’t know you wore them.”

“I only wear them at home.” She raised her hand self-consciously to straighten them. With their silver metal horn-rims, they took her back to Nerdville in no time flat. But she liked them, too. “Tell me how today was.”

“The hospital is just draining, you know?”

She nodded.

“I felt so sorry for Stella. She was either in excruciating pain or pretty much drugged the whole time. And Joiner is trying to be so strong—but it’s a scary deal.”

“I’m so thankful we have the care we have in this country. This situation would mean death for mom and baby in many of the places I’ve been.”

Mac raised his eyebrows. “You know, that’s true. I didn’t even think about that today. We have much to be thankful for. It is a difficult situation, but the doctor believes everything will be okay.”

“I’m sure it will. They can do amazing things now.”

“So tell me about you. How were things at the office?”

“We had sixteen tax bundles dropped off. All of them your regular customers. I’m going to try to have them processed for you but a few of them are complicated.”

“Who?”

“Clint Cavender, Buddy King, a couple of big farmers.”

Mac nodded. “Thank you for taking care of that. And don’t worry about getting it all processed. We’ll see where we are when I know everything’s all right with Joiner’s baby.”

“Peppermint again?” She reached for a mug and dropped a peppermint tea bag into it, and then poured steaming water from the carafe.

He took a bite of a cookie. “Mmm. These are delicious.”

“Thanks. They’re my favorite comfort food.”

“I can see why.” Mac set the remainder of his cookie down. “I’ve been eating all day.”

He told her about taking Joiner for dinner with his brothers and Alma’s hot sopaipillas.

“It’s so awesome how you all rallied around them,” she said. “That must mean so much to Joiner, and to Stella.”

Mac nodded. “It’s just what we do. But I thought about you today, and what you said about our roots and being there for each other, and you are right. It is a pretty beautiful thing.”

“You’re very lucky.”

Mac removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“Does your head hurt?”

“It’s starting to. I think I’m just tired.”

He moved to replace his glasses, but she took them from his hand and folded them, then set them on the table. “Here. Lean back.” She got up, lifted his legs and propped his feet on the edge of the couch on a throw pillow. Then she grabbed another cushion, and after sliding back into her seat, placed his head on the cushion on her lap. She closed his eyes gently with her fingertips.

Mac fidgeted, folding and unfolding his hands across his chest.

“Relax.”

He opened one eye and she looked into it sternly. He clamped it shut. Then she began to massage his temples, moving to his forehead, cheekbones and jawline, and finally his neck and shoulders. Muscle by muscle she worked the tension out of him till he seemed totally relaxed. In fact, he went to sleep.

As Mac dozed with his head in her lap, Jacqueline studied his features. His face was even handsomer up close, and the firelight glimmered on his skin so that it seemed to glow from within. She brushed her fingertips across his high forehead, lifting his hair to see that he had a widow’s peak. Long, lush lashes framed his closed eyes, and she traced her fingers across his Roman nose and high cheekbones. The strong, square jaw she saw so often set in concentration was softened by the firelight and by his expression of peace. Jacqueline had a strong desire to kiss him.

As if reading her mind, Mac opened his eyes. He reached up and took off her glasses, setting them on the table, and raised himself slowly to a sitting position, pulling her into his lap. He smiled, then cupped her face with his hands—she could feel the calluses—and kissed her. He smelled like leather. Jacqueline drank him in, thirstier than she knew. His hands found their way into her damp hair and he tilted her head back, caressing her neck with kisses before finding his way back to her lips.

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