Free Before She Dies (Slaughter Creek) by Rita Herron Page A

dwindling.
    And complications with her pregnancy had kept her from working.
    She gripped the steering wheel tighter, twisting her head to avoid looking at how steep the drop-off was as she made the curve, her Honda chugging as she climbed the mountain. The car needed repairs, and with these hills and weather, would never last the winter. Another problem to face.
    Snowflakes drifted down from the desolate skies, dotting the trees and ridges, making the idyllic scenery look like a Christmas postcard.
    She passed pastures and farmland, signs for cabin rentals and camping spots then crossed into the tiny town. A flower shop, barbeque joint, diner, library, city hall and Five-and-Dime store were situated around the town square with a small grassy area complete with park benches and a playground for children in the center. She imagined herself pushing the babies in the stroller while she met with other young mothers to chat. She and her parents would meet there for coffee and watch the kids play as they got older.
    Another sharp pain tightened her stomach, and she tried to massage it away. It had to be one of those Braxton Hicks contractions. It was too early to have the babies.
    Eight weeks too early.
    She had too much to do to go into labor. Unload the clothes and household items she’d been able to fit in to her car. Set up the house she’d rented.
    Put the baby clothes the local church had collected for her in the nursery.
    Make it look like a home before Ben showed up tomorrow with the pitiful little bit of furniture they’d accumulated in the last eight months.
    But the pain in her stomach intensified instead of passing. She gritted her teeth and breathed through it, noting a sign for a free clinic on the corner. Her daddy said the doctors in town were so kind-hearted they let people pay when they could. Other times they just donated their time and gave free services to the needy.
    A blessing for her and Ben and the twins.
    Another pain ripped through her, and she moaned. Her legs were cramping, her back throbbing. As soon as she reached the house, she had to lie down. If she propped her feet up and rested, surely the contractions would stop.
    And Ben would be here tomorrow.
    Once he saw the town and realized they had support from her parents, that when she recovered from the birth and the babies got bigger, she could get a job, he’d feel better. Her mama had already agreed to babysit the girls.
    She’d worked as a dental assistant in Harrogate, and in a doctor’s office back in Nashville, so hopefully she’d find a job here once the babies were a little bigger. Her daddy said they were building a new development on the other side of the mountain, and he’d talked to the foreman. He’d agreed to hire Ben.
    Ben wouldn’t be running the project, but it would provide a paycheck, and he liked construction.
    She passed the clinic, then turned onto the road leading out of town toward her new home, anxious to get there. Tall trees towered above her, shading the road and casting an almost eerie feel to the isolated area. She’d seen cars in town, but no other cars were on the mountain road tonight. The small town probably turned in early.
    She slowed as she rounded the curve and maneuvered the switchback.
    Another contraction gripped her, this one so hard and painful that she gasped and ran off the road onto the shoulder.
    She braked, panicking as she hugged the curve, the drop off below making her lungs claw for air as she envisioned flying into the ravine. Tires screeched as she struggled to maintain control, surviving that curve only to run up on another. She downshifted, the pain in her belly intensifying as she searched for a place to turn around.
    She wasn’t going to make it to the house.
    She had to go back to town. Call her mama to come and get her. Maybe stop at that clinic and let the doctors examine her.
    But a truck raced toward her, taking the curve too fast and crossing the line. She jerked the car to the