Sunlight (Haven River Ranch)

Sasha’s whimper woke me from a dead sleep. “Jax.”

“What?” I pushed up on an elbow, instantly awake. She was sitting up in bed, bent over her stomach. My hands flew to hers, pressed on the sides of her belly.

“Something isn’t right.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “It hurts.”

“We’re going to the hospital.” I was out of bed in a second and racing for the closet. I got dressed faster than I’d ever gotten dressed in my life, then grabbed clothes for Sasha.

She’d shifted to the edge of her bed, her face twisted in agony.

My heart and stomach dropped in free fall. “It’s going to be okay.”

She nodded, but tears glistened in her eyes as I pulled a hoodie over her head, helping get it over the T-shirt of mine she’d worn for bed. Then, leg by leg, I helped her into my sweats, rolling up the ankles twice before helping her stand.

One step and she hissed, curling forward.

Before she could object, I swept her into my arms and carried her out of the bedroom and through the dark house.

I didn’t bother finding her shoes. I’d carry her into the hospital too. So I took her to the truck, setting her in the passenger seat before I ran inside for my own tennis shoes and the overnight bag she’d packed last night after we’d gotten home from that walk.

It was the walk, wasn’t it? I’d let her walk too far. Or maybe it was the stress of those fucking letters from her brother.

Dr. Green had told Sasha at her last appointment that he wanted to monitor her blood pressure. It wasn’t a major risk yet, nothing to indicate preeclampsia. But it had elevated over the past few weeks, and he’d made a note that it was something to keep an eye on.

She’d been working too hard. I’d let her work too hard. Even when we came home from the lodge, she went straight to work on the nursery. Then those letters had arrived, and it was too much stress.

Green had told us to cut back on stress. To slow down.

Why the fuck hadn’t we listened?

I threw Sasha’s bag into the back seat, then climbed in, reversing out of the garage the second the door was open. We flew down the road, the truck’s engine revving as I hit the gas.

“Jax.” Sasha clutched the center console. “Not too—”

She winced again before she could tell me to slow down.

I drove faster, flying through the ranch in the dead of night, guided only by my headlights and the moon. The instant we hit the highway, I floored it, blowing past every speed limit as I hauled ass to town.

With one hand, I kept a firm grip on the wheel. With the other, Sasha’s hand clutched mine, squeezing tight every time it hurt.

“It’s too early for contractions.” Her other hand was in constant motion as she rubbed circles across her belly.

That’s what they were, though, weren’t they? These were contractions.

We still had three weeks. We were supposed to have three more weeks.

We were supposed to go to Bozeman so she could have the baby at a big hospital, with lots of doctors and equipment in case of the worst.

Was this the worst? I shoved that thought out of my head, focusing on the road.

“It’ll be okay.” I brought her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles. Then I kept my eyes on the road, wholly alert because the last fucking thing we needed tonight was to hit a deer.

“It’s too early,” she whispered.

It was too early.

My phone. Shit. I’d forgotten my phone. Why hadn’t I grabbed the damn thing? I should call the hospital first. Let them know we were on our way. But in my rush to leave, I’d forgotten it on the charger beside our bed. Sasha hadn’t brought hers either.

So I drove and said more silent prayers in thirty minutes than I had in a year.

As the lights of town came into view, twinkling beneath the midnight sky, I loosened a breath. But I didn’t let up on the gas. Not until we were in the hospital’s lot.

I parked outside the emergency room, then ran around the truck to carry Sasha inside.

Lily was at the desk in the emergency room. The moment I strode through the doors, she shot out of her chair and jogged across the small lobby. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s having pain. I think it’s contractions.”

“It’s too early.” Sasha’s eyes were wide, and she wiggled for me to set her down, but I kept her cradled close.

“Let’s get you into a room.” Lily waved for us to follow her through the entrance and into the ER.

The beds were empty, every curtain open. Lily walked past the quiet nurse’s station and around a corner. Through another doorway, I recognized the hallway that led to the doctors’ offices where we normally went for Sasha’s checkups, but everything was in reverse, like we’d come through a back entrance. I hadn’t spent enough time in the hospital to memorize the layout.

Lily took us to a large room in a corner. The lights flickered on the moment she crossed the threshold. There were machines against the wall I didn’t recognize. The bed in the center of the room was covered in a simple white sheet and blanket.

“This is our delivery room,” Lily said. “I’m going to get ahold of the doctor on call.”

Sasha nodded as I set her on the bed.

“How often are you having the contractions?” Lily asked.

“Every two minutes,” I answered. I’d kept track on the drive.

“How long do they last?”

“Two minutes,” Sasha said. “Give or take. I had some pain earlier today, but it wasn’t consistent, so I didn’t worry about it. It felt more like a bad side ache. But then it got bad and woke me up.”

“Okay.” Lily gave me a small smile, then walked to a supply closet against the wall. “We’ll get the doctor here to help, okay? Hang tight.”

“My truck is in the loop,” I told her. “I need to move it.”

“I’ll take care of it.” She took a folded, faded green gown from the closet and brought it over for Sasha. “Go ahead and get changed.”

“Okay.” Sasha stood on bare feet.

“Keys.” Lily held out her hand, waiting until I set them in her palm. “I’ll be back soon.”

As she swept out of the room, closing the door as she left, I helped Sasha change out of the sweats and into the gown. Then, after another contraction, my breath lodged in my throat until it passed, I helped her into bed and under the thin white blanket just as a knock came at the door.

Lily entered, Sasha’s bag in hand along with my keys. “Doctor will be here in ten minutes.”

Lily had worked in the ER for years. She made more money on the night shift, and though she’d told West she was ready to retire, our small town was usually fairly quiet. They ran on a skeleton staff this late, calling in doctors and nurses as needed.

At least it wouldn’t take long for Dr. Green to get here. We could make it ten minutes. The air rushed from my lungs. “Okay.”

“Your nurse will be in shortly too. She was just finishing up with another patient.”

“Wait. You’re not our nurse? Why can’t you do it?”

Differences aside, tonight, I needed a mom.

“I’ll be here too.” She took my hand and squeezed. “I’m not going anywhere. But the other nurse has more experience with deliveries. I want you to have the best.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’m glad you’re here tonight.”

“Me too.” She gave my hand one last squeeze, then slipped out of the room.

“What do you need?” I asked Sasha. “Water? Are you thirsty? Are you warm enough?”

She shivered, from terror, not the cold room. The fluorescent overhead lights brought out every bit of fear on her face. They sucked the color from her already pale skin. “It’s too early.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, clasping her freezing hands between mine. “She’ll be okay.”

Please, let her be okay. Both of them.

“Ouch.” Sasha gritted her teeth as the next contraction hit, this one coming even closer on the heels of the last.

Where the fuck was the doctor? It had to have been ten minutes, right?

“Breathe, baby. Just breathe.”

Sasha endured two more contractions before the door finally opened.

Except it wasn’t Dr. Green who stepped inside. It was Robin.

For fuck’s sake. This was not what we needed tonight.

“Hi, Sasha.” Robin came right to the bedside, sitting on the edge opposite mine. “I hear you’re having contractions. We’re going to get you hooked up to a monitor and see what’s happening, okay?”

“All right.” Sasha nodded, her hand clutching mine.

I pushed a lock of hair off her temple, feeling the sweat dampening her skin.

Robin gave her a kind smile, then stood to wash her hands. She was a flurry of movement, working fast and efficiently.

Where was that other nurse? Who was going to help Robin?

Maybe I should have driven Sasha to Bozeman. Maybe we should have raced for a city. But it was too late now. By the time Robin had Sasha hooked up to a monitor that showed the contractions, they were coming less than a minute apart.

“You’re having this baby tonight,” Robin said. “I’m going to go get a few things ready. Call button is on the bed’s remote if you need anything.”

“It’s too early.” The panic in Sasha’s face was like a knife to my heart. “It’s three weeks early.”

“It is early, but you’re on the cusp of full term,” Robin said. “And your labor is progressing very quickly. Give me a few, all right? I’ll be back soon.”

Robin left the room in a hurry. She wasn’t panicking, but she was moving damn fast. Was she a good enough doctor for this?

When I looked to Sasha, she had the same question in her beautiful eyes.

“It’s too early, Jax.” Fat, heavy tears streamed down her cheeks.

“She’ll be okay.” I bent, dropping my forehead to hers. “We’re okay.”

Sasha sniffled. “It was the walk. I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t, darlin’. Don’t second-guess. This stuff happens. It’s not that early. All the checkups have been good. The timing on contractions are normal. It’s going to be okay.”

My voice sounded more confident than I actually felt, but thank fuck I’d read all of those pregnancy books. Otherwise, I’d be coming apart at the seams.

There were still plenty of risks. Complications. Preeclampsia. It was early, but it wasn’t too early. We’d be okay. We had to be okay.

“I’m scared.” Her chin quivered as her voice cracked.

“I got you.” It was a fucking lie.

I was about to come out of my own damn skin, but for Sasha, I kept it together and rubbed her lower back as another contraction ripped through her body.

But she didn’t scream. She didn’t yell. She gritted her teeth through every second of the pain, her hands fisting the scratchy sheets, and endured it all.

When Robin returned, it was with three other nurses, each dressed in a shade of blue scrubs. Fucking finally. They brought a flurry of activity into the room, moving with practiced efficiency.

“Have you delivered a baby before?” I asked Robin.

“One hundred and twenty-three,” she said, rolling a stool to the end of the bed before taking a pair of latex gloves from the rack on the wall. She kept talking as she had Sasha pull up her knees so she could do an exam. “I delivered a lot of babies during my residency. This is my first since I’ve come home. But we’ve got all the equipment necessary, and if needed, I can perform a C-section.”

Sasha’s eyes widened. She didn’t want to have a C-section. She’d told me that at least five times.

“I don’t think we’ll need to,” Robin said, reading the panic on her face. “The baby is in the perfect position. Her heart rate is normal. You’re almost there. She’s almost here.”

Our daughter. Our baby girl.

“It’s too early,” Sasha whispered.

“We’re ready.” I clasped her hand in mine, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

“It hurts.” She sniffled, wiping at her face as more tears fell. “Distract me. Tell me a secret.”

“I love you.”

The words came out in a rush. It was effortless. As automatic as breathing.

It was the easiest thing I’d ever said in my life.

Machines beeped. The nurse in the corner was saying something to Robin—who rolled her stool away.

But they all faded to a blur as I took Sasha’s face in mine. “I love you. I think I loved you the moment you tried to steal that shopping cart.”

“Jax.” Sasha’s eyes searched mine.

She didn’t have to say it back. If she wasn’t ready, that was okay. I was ready.

After everything she’d told me today with her parents, with her brother, maybe what Sasha needed most was the chance to live easy for a change. The chance to fall.

And know that I’d be here to catch her.

She opened her mouth, about to speak, when another contraction hit. It came with a whimper of agony, the first sign she was losing control.

“No one will care if you’re loud. Let it out,” I said as the pain faded and she collapsed onto the bed.

“I don’t want her to hear me scream.”

“Robin?” I hooked my thumb to where she was talking with a nurse. “Who fucking cares?”

“No.” Sasha gave me a sad smile, her gaze dropping to her belly.

Josephine.

She didn’t want to have the baby hear her scream.

Because she remembered sounds. And she didn’t want that sound in this room.

I fucking loved this woman.

I kissed her, hard and fast, then backed away so she could rest before the next contraction. “Tell me a lie.”

“I hate Montana.”

A grin tugged at my mouth. “Mission accomplished.”

“Now a secret,” she murmured, still breathing hard. “Tell me to tell you a secret.”

“Tell me a secret.”

“I love you.”

Three words and I could breathe. For the first time in what felt like my whole life, I could breathe.

I needed nothing else. Not money. Not fame. Not power or influence. Just Sasha.

Tears mingled with our lips as I kissed her, soft this time. But like the last, it was interrupted by another contraction. And another. And another. Like dominoes, falling faster and faster, until Robin had donned a cap and covered her scrubs with a teal long-sleeved gown and was positioned at Sasha’s feet.

“Hold her leg, Jax,” she ordered. “Sasha, when I tell you, you’re going to push. Ready?”

Sasha locked her eyes with mine.

I locked my arm beneath her knee. “I’ve got you.”

She gave me a sure nod. “Ready.”

The room seemed to go silent. Robin kept talking. Sasha was panting. The nurses gave her encouraging words with every push. The blood roaring in my ears drowned out every bit of the noise.

Until a sound cut through the haze.

A screaming baby girl.

My Josephine.