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June 1st, 2013 Chickadee County
VERITY leaned on the railing and levered herself, step by step, onto the porch and waddled across the wooden planks to unlock the front door. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she’d been staying here two weeks, and every time she had taken a walk outside, she had locked the door behind her. Out here in the middle of nowhere. Hollingsworth had brought her up here himself and given her a key to the property. He’d approved of her coming up here to wait in the hope of finding her husband, or one of the others at least—someone who knew where she’d find Turner. Or could track him down, if that possibility even existed.
Unless things had changed, the Travelers would have left at the end of the previous summer, passing over the past nine months Verity had been slogging through, and could soon be landing here at the start of a new summer. As far as she was aware, they did not set any regular date, but could show up any time vaguely identifiable as early summer. So Verity had taken her maternity leave in the middle of May and come up here to camp out in the Travelers’ house—waiting and hoping. It would be nice if her husband showed up before the baby.
A spasm shook her, and she grabbed at the door frame as she was stepping inside. Her first contraction, but she wasn’t going to panic. Even if this was really the beginning of labor, she would have plenty of time to call Ralph for a ride, or an ambulance if it was an emergency. And she understood labor could last a long time—or a very long time. She also knew that contractions didn’t necessarily mean going into labor right now, or at all, and her due date was still a few days away.
Then she heard the sound of a car coming down the lane and wondered if it was just a coincidence or if someone could have known that she might need a ride soon. She stared as a big black SUV came into view—not Ralph. She considered closing and locking the door. And wondered whether she should do that from the inside or the outside.
Mr. Hollingsworth would’ve called first, and arrived in his luxury sedan—or hers, since he’d insisted on holding on to it until Verity returned to work. She tried to think who else it might be. It certainly wouldn’t be Anya and the others turning up by such conventional means.
She hesitated too long—by the time the inviting coolness from the air-conditioning in the house had made her decision for her, the SUV with tinted windows had stopped in front of the porch, and its door was already opening. She was surprised to see little Nye, of all people, climbing down out of the driver’s seat. Then again, at least a couple of years must’ve gone by from Nye’s perspective, more than enough time for her to learn how to drive.
The girl came and stood at the foot of the porch and stared up at Verity with a keen, unnerving scrutiny. Nye glanced across to the barn and then down at her watch before ascending to the porch. “Where did you come from?”
Was she comparing my size to the barn? Verity smiled. Or is that strange look she’s giving because I’ve been missing. Some things hadn’t changed, like Nye’s manners. “That’s the question I was going to ask you. Shouldn’t you be popping out of thin air?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
With a grin she complied. “I’ve been right here, waiting for you, or rather for any of you, for the past two weeks. Prior to that, I came from Mr. Hollingsworth. Your lawyer.”
The girl cocked her head. “Hollingsworth? But you and Page and Matt and Turner all left from two thousand two. You were supposed to show up here a year ago. What happened to you? Where are the rest? Matt and Page?”
“Don’t forget my husband. I don’t have any idea what became of Turner and the others. I only know that I landed on the eighth of September, three full months later than when we were supposed to arrive, and all on my own.” Verity clutched the door frame as another contraction came. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go inside and sit down now. We can continue this conversation in more comfortable circumstances, can’t we?” Although it was more like an interrogation than a chat.
Nye nodded, following Verity inside and talking to her back as she waddled into the living room. “I think they must’ve just missed you. Anya and Tate, they left on the evening of the eighth.”
Verity eased herself onto the couch. “I must’ve missed them by hours, if not minutes. But what are you doing here instead of there, with them wherever they are?”
“They’re nowhere. In the past, in the future. As for me, I’ve got too much work to do to be skipping nine months out of the year. I’m on the slow path.”
A grunt escaped from Verity. “Like me. You’ve been here, somewhere, all along. While I have been waiting nine months to find one of you.”
Nye took a seat across the coffee table from her and leaned forward with a piercing stare. “Mr. Hollingsworth didn’t tell you I was around?”
“He knew? He didn’t say a word to me.”
The girl nodded to herself and leaned back, but she still seemed intent on Verity. “When the four of you didn’t materialize a year ago today, Anya knew something had gone wrong, but obviously you can’t tell us anything about what that was. Matt or Page should be able to shed some light on it, if they ever turn up.”
Verity wondered if the girl was trying to be considerate, not to mention Turner, or was she jealous? “I hope Anya, at least, shows up soon. I have something to give her. And not only that—” Another contraction cut off her words. The pain was worse this time, and she started her breathing to help with it.
“Not only what?”
Clenching her teeth until the pain subsided, she thought that Nye hadn’t changed as much as it had first appeared. “Which do you want to know about, the watch someone sent to Hollingsworth, or how I am probably in labor and could be ready to deliver this baby before long?” And none too soon—even if Nye was the only one there to help.
Nye squinted at her through her glasses. “If you just started having contractions, we should have the time to discuss the other matter first. And it might help distract you from the pain. Now, what about a watch?”
Verity grabbed her purse and took out the Travel device, holding it up for the girl to peer at. “Some secret admirer of Hollingsworth’s sent him this. In the mail.” Along with something more important in her opinion.
“When did it arrive, exactly?”
“About three months ago. Look, it’s an interesting story, but—”
This time it was Nye who cut her off rather than another contraction. It’s preferable to the pain.
“I need to know the day that Mr. Hollingsworth received that watch. I’m sure you can recall the date if you try.”
Verity glared at the girl, but she wasn’t about to resist the challenge. Even with everything going on it only took her a minute to remember the details—and Nye carefully extracted them all. Everything to do with how it was packaged and sent, to the critical video of a murder on a USB drive, Verity described for the girl—even the file format used and the brand of the memory stick.
Nye reached out to take the watch and examine the back before returning it to Verity. “You probably should keep that. Give it to Anya or not, it’s your decision.”
Verity found herself rolling her eyes. “Alright—but right now I need to go and freshen up, and then call the hospital to see if they want me to come in.”
She pushed until she finally escaped the pull of the sofa and got to her feet. She started toward the hall and the half bath, but another contraction came halfway across the living room, and she reached out and clung to an end table to keep from falling. Then her water broke. It’s happening too fast. The hardwood floor in the living room would at least make it easy to clean up. She was just getting over the pain when a new wave hit, almost before she’d been able to catch her breath. As it began to subside, she tried to grin at Nye.
“I think going to the hospital is definitely called for. Unless you know how to deliver a baby.”
“I have the information, but I doubt it would be a good idea for me to try to perform a delivery.”
Gritting her teeth in a semblance of a smile, she could only be glad of that. “I think I’m the one who will actually be doing the work, but if you could help me sit back down and then call for a ride to the hospital, I’d be grateful.”
“Well, if you really feel you need to go, I’ll drive you there. But shouldn’t you be able to do this all on your own—otherwise why are you out here by yourself? I can see you already know all those breathing techniques.”
Verity had a hard time not shouting at Nye. “I’d come hoping my husband might be here. He ought to be here for this.” She clenched her teeth again as another contraction made her want to howl. “As for doing it on my own—when you’re having a baby you can try that yourself. I want a doctor.”
“Would a nurse do?”
A wave of relief swept over her when she heard Anya’s voice calling from the foyer. Then the woman herself appeared at the living room door. Verity let loose a long sigh. “You’ll certainly be a lot more help than Nye’s being.” She saw Tate hanging back in the hallway.
Anya charged into the room and grabbed Verity by the arm. “Help me get her propped up on the sofa, Nye.” The two women helped her get back to the couch, and Anya stuffed pillows behind her so she’d be half-sitting and half-lying down. But she did not need to be made comfy, she needed the pain to stop.
Verity moaned as another contraction hit, gritting her teeth against the pain. She did her breathing until she could talk again. “It just keeps getting worse.”
“Well, yes. And the worst is yet to come.” Anya turned to Nye. “How far apart are the contractions coming?”
Nye blinked. “The second one was four minutes and sixteen seconds after the first, going by the gritting of her teeth. But they’ve been coming closer to each other. After we finished talking they were less than two minutes apart. It’s hard to tell now.”
Anya gave Verity a gentle smile. “Do you mind if I take a look to see how you’re coming along?”
“Please do. I’m so glad you showed up. I think Nye wanted to drive me into the hospital instead of calling an ambulance.” Verity relaxed and sank into the cushions with a sigh.
“Well. Hopefully there won’t be any need to go to the hospital at all, but if there is, she can drive us there. But now isn’t the time to try moving you if we don’t have to. You’re almost fully dilated. Soon you should start feeling the urge to push. Don’t fight it, just do your breathing and go with that feeling.”
“I’m glad you know what you’re doing.” Verity turned her head to glare at Nye. “You can take that as an official comment on your attitude, if you like.”
Both women ignored her, and Anya looked over her shoulder at Tate who was hovering in the background. “Boil some water and bring me some clean towels. When the water’s boiling, sterilize a couple of clothespins and a sharp pair of scissors.”
Tate took off, and Verity stared intently at Anya to make sure she had the woman’s attention. “You really are going to deliver my child here and now?”
“It’s all really quite straightforward, you know. And it may have been a while, but I’ve had plenty of experience. It’s like riding a bicycle. But if anything does go wrong, we’ll race you to the hospital, where I’m sure they’d be able to take care of you.”
A surge of pain came with the next contraction, and, when Verity could catch her breath again, she made herself smile back at Anya. “Thank you. And later, would you remind me that if I never see Turner again it will be too soon.”
“Now, now. You’ll feel differently about that before long. Have you decided on a name for the baby yet?”
“A name? I never let them tell me if it would be a boy or a girl. And I’ve been too busy to do a lot of research on names.”
Nye piped up from somewhere behind her. “I’d be able to help you with that at least. Are there any criteria I can use to narrow down the results?”
“Like what?”
Anya shook her head. “Surely you’ve given the matter some thought?”
“In idle moments, maybe. But I’m not interested in naming the baby after anyone in my own family, and I don’t know anything about Turner’s. Note that I don’t care about his opinion right now—but I don’t even know his real last name. There are a few people who’ve been so kind to me that—”
She cut herself off as a new contraction brought more pain, and she started huffing and puffing with abandon. “I’m going to have to push now.”
“Then you go right ahead, and don’t try to talk. Just push. Though I should warn you, I think—”
Burning, searing pain tore through Verity’s entire body, and her eyes flooded with tears—and the pain just kept coming.
“—I can already see the baby’s head.” Anya had to raise her voice over the sound of Verity’s screaming. “You’re crowning. The absolute worst pain has almost arrived, when the baby’s shoulders come out—but that’s the last of it. And then you’ll be able to relax.”
Verity felt hysterical laughter begin bubbling up within her. The pain couldn’t get any worse, or she wouldn’t be held responsible for the consequences.