Dawn giggled. “Granny sounds like my nursing instructor at San Luis Obispo. Bossy!”
“Thank God!” Smiling, Carolyn rushed out again. She set everything up. “I put some of your new towels on a kitchen chair in front of the fire. They’ll be warm enough for the baby.”
“Not too close, I hope,” Granny muttered. “The last thing we need right now is a fire.”
They all laughed a little wildly.
Five minutes later, they knew the baby wasn’t going to wait for the helicopter.
“Wash your hands carefully, Carolyn, but hurry up about it.” Hildie knew she didn’t have the physical strength to finish the job. Dawn’s body shook through transition. Her granddaughter had no break now, one contraction rolling right over into another, crushing her with pain.
Now that she knew it wasn’t just childbirth racking Dawn’s frail body, Hildie had to will herself not to weep. All her knowledge and training kicked into overdrive, but her legs had begun to ache so much she could barely stand. “I need that vanity chair, Carolyn.”
Carolyn set it where she pointed.
“Stand there. You’re going to deliver your granddaughter.”
“What?”
“I’m going to tell you what to do. Don’t argue or say you can’t. You can.”
Carolyn obeyed. Hildie put her hand on Dawn’s arm and talked them both through it. She told Dawn to let nature take its course. “Don’t hold back. Push!” She gave Carolyn instructions and watched her do exactly as told. Dawn’s daughter broke into the world, red-faced and screaming.
Carolyn laughed joyously. “She’s beautiful, Dawn. She’s perfect, just like you were.”
“Put the baby on Dawn’s abdomen. Tie the cord, Carolyn. That’s it. You can cut it now. I’ll get the towels.”
The womp-womp of a helicopter went over the house.
Hildie took the warm towels draped over the chair in front of the fireplace and brought them back to her girls. “Early bird or not, her lungs are in great condition.” Dawn and Carolyn laughed in relief. Carolyn wrapped the baby and placed her in Dawn’s arms.
Dawn drew the soft toweling down and gazed into her daughter’s face. Smiling, she kissed her. “Your name is Faith.” She looked up at her mother and sorrow mingled with joy. “Sit here close to me, Mom. You, too, Granny. I have to tell you something.”
Hildie already knew. When Dawn finished, Carolyn was white. “No.” Hildie reached for her hand and held it tightly, her own heart breaking.
“I didn’t want it to be true either, Mom. But we can’t hide from the truth. You and Granny will need to work together. Jason’s life isn’t his own. You’ll be Faith’s guardian, Mom. Granny, you’re going to help her. So will Georgia. God is going to give back all the years the locusts ate, Mom.”
“May Flower Dawn.” Carolyn crumbled, head against Dawn’s side.
Dawn put her hand on her mother’s head as though offering a blessing. “You’re stronger than anyone I know. Keep Faith, Mom.” She smiled at Hildie. “Promise me you’ll share.”
When the paramedics arrived, they worked quickly, efficiently. They said they had room for only one more in the helicopter. Hildie almost said she’d go, but stopped herself. “You go.” She cupped Carolyn’s face. “You’re her mother.”
“Mitch and I will come out and get you as soon as we can.”
Hildie kissed Dawn and the baby. “I’ll see you both soon.” She tucked a strand of golden hair away from Dawn’s cheek. “You hold on to faith, honey. Don’t you dare give up.”
When they left, Hildie went back inside. She sat in her recliner and cried. Then she prayed. She kept praying until dusk came. She forgot to stoke the fire, and it went out. She took the blanket off the couch and bundled up in it. She had weathered other winters without fire or light. She could weather this one. The darkness fit her despair.
She awakened to someone calling her name. She saw a flash of light. The back door opened, and the beam caught and blinded her. “Who…?”
“Sorry it took so long to get out here, Hildie.” Mitch. “I had to come around through Sebastopol and Bodega. The river’s gone down enough to come across from Bridgehaven.”
Her son-in-law had come to her rescue. God had already sent him to rescue her daughter years ago.
“You want to pack a few things?”
“I think I should, don’t you?” She was still in her pajamas.
Mitch helped her around the tree roots and buckled road. He’d driven the Jaguar. It roared to life. He told her Dawn and the baby were both doing well. The baby weighed almost six pounds. Hildie asked him if he knew the reason May Flower Dawn had driven across country in the dead of winter.
“Yes. I know. The only one who doesn’t know yet is Jason, and I’ve got a few friends in high places moving heaven and earth to get him home.”
Hildie didn’t learn until later how many had been praying for the restorative miracle that had taken place at Jenner-and went on praying Dawn wouldn’t be called home. Not yet.
Epilogue
Carolyn put her shoulder bag and two tote bags into the compartment beside her seat in the mammoth Lufthansa 747 aircraft. Mitch had made the arrangements and, as usual, spared no expense to make sure she was comfortable. Her husband had put her, Faith, and Georgia in business class for the long flight to Frankfurt. Faith, blonde hair in pigtails, sat on the big leather seat, jean-clad legs straight out, feet dangling, Puppy Brown hugged in a protective embrace. She looked so much like May Flower Dawn at six years of age, it pierced Carolyn’s heart. She buckled Faith’s seat belt before her own and brushed her knuckles down her granddaughter’s satiny cheek. “Excited to see Daddy, sweetheart?”
Faith nodded. Carolyn leaned forward and looked across the aisle. “How’s GeeGee doing over there?”
Georgia sat across the aisle, face pale and strained. She gave a nervous smile. “I’m fine.” She looked anything but fine, but Carolyn understood all too well. Learning Jason had been seriously wounded in Afghanistan and flown to Landstuhl had them all on their knees.
They’d gotten the news two weeks ago that Jason had been wounded, but didn’t know until a few days later the extent of his injuries and where he had been transferred. Eventually, Jason would end up in the States, but how long before that happened? weeks? a month? two? Just as he’d done in the days following Faith’s birth, Mitch had moved mountains to get family members together during this time of crisis. He had gotten Jason home from Iraq within five days of Faith’s birth at Jenner. May Flower Dawn had spent a week in the hospital after Faith was born. Tests confirmed what she already knew: she didn’t have much time. The doctor ordered palliative radiation to control the pain. Dawn came home, and hospice was called in. Christopher withdrew from classes at Stanford and came home to spend as much time with his big sister as possible.
Everyone had worried about Jason. He’d been strong through Dawn’s last weeks, but grieved hard when she died. He lost weight, couldn’t sleep, wouldn’t talk. Pastor Daniel took him away for a few days, and Jason seemed better when they returned, less lost and broken. He held Faith close. When called back to duty, he went with God before him and as his rear guard.
Carolyn looked at the beautiful little girl sitting in the big, cushy leather seat next to her. If not for this adorable little munchkin, they all would have fallen to pieces.
“Champagne, madame?” A pretty, dark-haired flight attendant carried a tray of tulip glasses filled with juice or champagne. Georgia took orange juice.
Faith looked eagerly at Carolyn. “Can I have some juice, Grammy?” Carolyn said yes and declined anything for herself. She felt a little queasy with nerves. The last time she’d traveled any distance on her own was driving Chel across country after Woodstock, and that didn’t offer the best of memories. Dawn would have told her not to worry. God would be flying with them. She smiled as she imagined Jesus in uniform, sitting in the cockpit.