But Dan had never been the same after Vietnam. For a lot of years, Grace had blamed herself and her own failings for his unhappiness. Dan knew that and had done his best to make things right in the letter he wrote her before his death.

Christmas Eve, however, wasn’t a night for troubled memories. The grandchildren Dan would never know were onstage, giving the performances of their young lives.

Out of the corner of her eye, Grace noticed Angel, the church secretary, rushing down the side aisle and toward the front. She went to the first pew, where Pastor Flemming sat with his wife, Emily.

Angel whispered something in his ear and the pastor nodded. He left with her. Apparently there was some sort of emergency.

“Look, there’s a star in the East,” Leif Gunderson, Olivia’s grandson, shouted. As one of the three Wise Men, he pointed at the church ceiling.

“Let us follow the star,” the second of the Wise Men called out.

It wasn’t until Cliff tapped her arm that she realized Angel was trying to get her attention. She stood in the side aisle and motioned with her finger for Grace to come out.

“What’s that about?” Cliff asked as she picked up her purse.

“I don’t know. I’ll tell you as soon as I find out.”

He nodded.

Grace hurried down the center aisle to the foyer, reaching it just as Angel did. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“It’s a miracle I was even in the office,” Angel said.

This confused Grace. “What do you mean?”

“For the phone call,” she explained. “I went to get a pair of scissors. Mrs. Murphy, the first-grade Sunday School teacher, needed scissors and I thought there was a pair in my desk.”

“The phone call,” Grace reminded her.

“Oh, yes, sorry. It was from some young firefighter.”

“Mack McAfee?” Grace blurted out.

“No, no, Brandon Hutton. At any rate, he wanted to speak to the pastor.”

“Has there been an accident?”

“No…I don’t know. I think it would be best if you talked to Pastor Flemming yourself. He asked me to get you.”

Dave Flemming was on the phone, a worried expression on his face. When he saw Grace, he held out the receiver. “You’d better take this.”

Grace dismissed her first fear, that there’d been an accident. Everyone she loved, everyone who was important to her here in Cedar Cove, was inside the church.

“This is Grace Harding,” she said into the receiver, her voice quavering slightly.

“Ms. Harding, this is EMT Hutton from the Kitsap County Fire District. We received a distress call from a young woman who’s currently at your home.”

Grace gasped. “Mary Jo? She’s still at the house? Is she all right?”

“I believe so, ma’am. However, she’s in labor and asking for you.”

“Won’t you be transporting her to the hospital? Shouldn’t I meet you there?” Grace would notify Cliff and they could leave together.

From the moment she’d left the house, some instinct had told her she should’ve stayed with Mary Jo. Some inner knowledge that said Mary Jo would be having her baby not in two weeks but now. Tonight.

“We won’t be transporting her, Ms. Harding.”

“Good heavens, why not?” Grace demanded, wondering if it was a jurisdictional matter. If so, she’d get Olivia involved.

“It appears Ms. Wyse is going to give birth imminently. We don’t have time to transport her.”

“She’s not alone, is she?”

“No, ma’am. EMT McAfee is with her.”

Mack. Thank goodness. “What about her brothers?” she asked. Surely they’d arrived by now.

“There’s no one else here, ma’am.”

Grace’s heart started to pound. “I’ll get there as quickly as possible.”

“One last thing,” Officer Hutton added. “Do you normally keep camels in your barn?”

“No. But be warned. She bites.”

“She’s already attempted to take a piece out of me. I managed to avoid it, though.”

“Good.”

She set down the receiver and turned to Pastor Flemming. “A young woman who’s staying with us has gone into labor.”

“So I understand.”

“I’ll collect my husband and get going.” Grace hated to miss the pageant but there was nothing she could do about it.

Returning to the pew, she explained to Cliff what was happening. Maryellen twisted around and Grace told her, too.

“She doesn’t have anything for the baby, does she?” Maryellen asked.

Grace hadn’t even thought of that. She had blankets and a few other supplies for her grandchildren, but the disposable diapers would be far too big.

“Jon and I will stop by the house and get some things for Mary Jo and the baby and drop them off. I’m sure I still have a package of newborn-size diapers, too.”

Grace touched her daughter’s shoulder, grateful for Maryellen’s quick thinking.

“We’ll bring Lisa, Rich and April back to the house,” Kelly whispered. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“Me, neither,” Lisa said. “There couldn’t be a more ideal way to celebrate Christmas!”

17

“You’re doing great,” Mack assured Mary Jo.

“No, I’m not,” she cried, exhaling a harsh breath. Giving birth was hard, harder than she’d ever envisioned and the pain…the pain was indescribable.

The second EMT came back into the bedroom. “I talked to your friend and she’s on her way.”

“Thank God.” It was difficult for Mary Jo to speak in the middle of a contraction. The pain was so intense and she panted, imitating Mack who’d shown her a breathing exercise to help deal with it.

Mack held her hand and she squeezed as tight as she could, so tight she was afraid she might be hurting him. If that was the case, he didn’t let on.

“Get a cool damp washcloth,” Mack instructed the other man.

“Got it.” As though thankful for something to do, Brandon Hutton shot out of the room and down the hallway to the bathroom.

“I’m going to check you again,” Mack told her.

“No!” She clung to his hand, gripping it even tighter.

“I need you here. Beside me.”

“Mary Jo, I have to see what position the baby’s in.”

“Okay, okay.” She closed her eyes. Sweat poured off her forehead. Now she knew why giving birth was called labor. This was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Unfortunately there wasn’t time to go to any more classes, or to finish reading the books she’d started…. She’d thought she had two more weeks. If only she hadn’t waited for David, or believed him when he’d said he wanted to attend the birthing classes with her. This was what she got for trusting him.

Suddenly liquid gushed from between her legs. “What was that?” she cried.

“Your water just broke.”

“Oh.” She’d forgotten about that. She had a vague recollection of other women’s stories about their water breaking.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” she asked. What she hoped was that it meant her baby was almost ready to be born and this agony would come to an end.

“It’s good,” he told her.

“It’ll be better now, right?”

Mack hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded. “Tell me.”

“Your labor may intensify.”

This had to be a cruel joke. “Intensify.” She couldn’t imagine how the pains could get any stronger than they were now. “What do you mean…intensify?”

“The contractions will probably last longer….”

“Oh, no,” she moaned.

Although she’d discovered this was Mack’s first birth, he knew so much more than she did. He’d at least studied it and obviously paid attention during class. Mack had joked that he was getting on-the-job training—and so was she, but that part didn’t seem so amusing anymore.

“The baby’s fully in the birth canal. It won’t be long now, Mary Jo. Just a few more pains and you’ll have your baby.”

“Thank God.” Mary Jo didn’t know how much more of this she could take.

“Rest between contractions,” Mack advised.

Brandon Hutton returned with a damp washcloth. Mack took it from him and wiped her face. The cool cloth against her heated skin felt wonderfully refreshing.

At the approach of another pain, she screamed, “Mack! Mack!”

Instantly he was at her side, his hand holding hers. Her fingers tightened around his.

“Count,” she begged.

“One, two, three…”

The numbers droned on and she concentrated on listening to the even cadence of Mack’s voice, knowing that by the time he reached fifty, the contraction would ease.

Halfway through, she started to pant. And then felt the instinctive urge to bear down. Arching her back, Mary Jo pushed with every ounce of her strength.

When the pain passed, she was too exhausted to speak.

Mack wiped her forehead again and brushed the damp hair from her face.

“Water,” she mumbled.

“Got it!” Brandon Hutton tore out of the room, like a man on a quest.

Recovering from the pain, she breathed deeply, her chest heaving. She opened her eyes and looked up at Mack. His gaze was tender.

“How much longer?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Soon.”

“I can’t stand much more of this…I just can’t.” Tears welled in her eyes and rolled down the sides of her face.

Mack dabbed at her cheeks. As their eyes met, he gave her an encouraging smile. “You can do it,” he said. “You’re almost there.”

“I’m glad you’re with me.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he told her. They continued to hold hands.

Brandon came back with the water. “Here,” he said.

Mack took the glass and held it for Mary Jo, supporting her head. “Just a sip or two,” he cautioned.

She nodded and savored each tiny sip.

The sound of a car door slamming echoed in the distance.

“Grace,” Mary Jo said, grateful the other woman had finally arrived.

“I’ll bring her up.” Brandon quickly disappeared from the room.

Another pain approached. “No…no…” she whimpered, gathering her resolve to get through this next contraction. She closed her eyes and clung to Mack, thanking God once more that she wasn’t alone. That Mack was with her…

Mack automatically began to count. Again she felt the urge to push. Gritting her teeth, she bore down, grunting loudly for the first time, straining her entire body.

“Mary Jo.” Grace’s serene voice broke through the haze of pain. “I came as soon as I heard.”

The contraction eased and Mary Jo collapsed onto the mattress, sweat blinding her eyes.

“The baby’s in the birth canal,” Mack told her friend.

“What would you like me to do?” Grace asked.

“Hold on to her hand and count off the seconds when the contractions come.”

“No…don’t leave me.” Mary Jo couldn’t do this without Mack at her side.

“I need to deliver the baby,” he explained, his words so gentle they felt like a warm caress. “Grace will help you.”

“I’m here,” Grace said.

“Okay.” Reluctantly Mary Jo freed Mack’s hand.

Grace slipped into his spot. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Mary Jo said.

“How would you do that?” Grace asked, clasping her hand.

Somehow she found the strength to smile. “I squeeze hard.”

“You aren’t going to hurt me,” Grace said reassuringly. “You squeeze as hard as you need to and don’t worry about me.” She reached for the damp cloth and wiped Mary Jo’s flushed and heated face.

“I…don’t have anything for the baby,” she whispered. That thought suddenly struck Mary Jo and nearly devastated her. Her baby wasn’t even born yet, and already she was a terrible mother. Already she’d failed her child.

“That’s all been taken care of.”

“But…I don’t even have a blanket.”

“Maryellen and Jon are stopping at their house for diapers and baby blankets and clothes for a newborn.”

“But…”

“Maryellen still has all of Drake’s clothes, so that should be the least of your worries, okay?”

“Okay.” A weight lifted from her heart.

Another pain approached. Mary Jo could feel herself pushing the infant from the womb. She gritted her teeth, bearing down with all her strength.

Grace, her voice strong and confident, counted off the seconds. Again, when the pain was over, Mary Jo collapsed on the bed.

In the silence that followed, Mary Jo could hear the sound of her own harsh breathing. Then in the distance she heard the laughter of children.

“The kids…”

“The grandchildren are outside with Cliff,” Grace said.

“Laughing?”

“Do you want me to tell Cliff to keep them quiet?”

“No…no. It’s…joyful.” This was the way it should be on Christmas Eve. Hearing their happiness gave her hope. Her baby, no matter what the future held, would be born surrounded by people who were kind and encouraging.

Giving birth in a barn, the stalls below filled with beasts, children running and laughing outside, celebrating the season, hadn’t been part of Mary Jo’s plan. And yet—it was perfect.