Free All Is Bright by Colleen Coble Page B

were all out enjoying the lovely fall day. “I think you’d better get me home before everyone comes back.”
    Tom shook his head. “I don’t think there’s time. Libby!”
    Libby’s footsteps sounded on the hardwood floors, and she burst into the room. “Is it the baby?”
    â€œI think so. Would you call Amy? Where should I put Delilah? She can’t deliver in here.”
    â€œA guest suite just down the hall is empty. You won’t have to get her upstairs.” Libby pulled out her cell phone and continued to direct Tom.
    Delilah wanted to tell them first babies always gave plenty of warning, then another sharp cramp hit her and she couldn’t bite back a tiny whimper. Come to think of it, her back had been bothering her since this morning.
    Tom scooped her up again and rushed down the hall after Libby. Libby unlocked the door to the Tidewater Suite, their most expensive accommodations. Its seafoam-blue walls and calming white linens reached out to embrace her.
    She shook her head and tried to protest. “I don’t want to mess up anything in here.”
    â€œAmy left supplies and instructions. I’ve got this covered.” Libby stripped off the quilt and blankets, then pulled back the sheets. “Hang on.” She returned a few moments later with water-proof pads she spread onto the sheets. “Get her into bed, Tom. I’ve got a delivery nightgown we can get her into if you start getting her undressed.”
    â€œI can take care of myself. Tom, put me down.” Much to her surprise, he grinned and eased her to her feet. Before another cramp could hit, she yanked off her shirt and sat on the edge of the bed to try to get out of her yoga pants, the most comfortable attire for this late in her pregnancy.
    Libby returned with a light-blue cotton nightgown. “Amy is on her way. Fifteen minutes. This is a short one so it will be easy to maneuver during delivery, and you’ll be able to nurse in it.”
    In a jiffy Tom and Libby had her clothed with the nightgown and resting in bed. Just in time, too, because another sharp cramp gripped her back. Tears came to her eyes, and she bit back another groan. She refused to be a screamer.
    Tom sat beside her on the bed and rubbed her lower back. “Remember how to breathe, honey.”
    Of course. This was labor, not some random back pain. She nodded. She was ready for this.
    She and Tom hadn’t wanted to know what gender their baby was, so this little one would be a complete surprise. Her pulse raced. She would soon hold her baby in her arms. Tom’s baby. Our baby.
    By the time Amy arrived, the pains had changed and were encasing Delilah’s entire midsection. Amy had been a nurse midwife for many years and had delivered little Noah as well as many of the island babies in the past two years. Her brisk, competent manner put Delilah at ease, and she did everything she was told to do.
    Two hours later, a tiny red-faced bundle slid into Tom’s arms. Tears tracked down his face as he cradled their tiny child in his arms. “Delilah, it’s a girl. She’s beautiful, just like her mama.” He carried her to the head of the bed to place her in Delilah’s arms.
    A thatch of dark hair topped the red and wrinkled face. The baby screwed up her face and squawked with gusto. Delilah touched her petal-soft skin. “What should we call her, Tom?”
    They’d waited to pick out a name until they’d met their little one. Delilah knew the name she wanted, but Tom had waited a long time for this moment, and it was his fortieth birthday.
    Tom cradled her tiny head in his big hand and smiled. “Hello, Molly.”
    â€œ ‘Star of the sea.’ Perfect.” And she was. Delilah had so wanted to name her daughter after her mother, and Tom had granted her wish.
    So was life, in all its messiness and trials. Life was perfect right now, but Delilah knew there would