Lanie handled all of that while at the same time holding onto River’s hand and talking her through each contraction that hit.

Mark drove, fascinated by this new Lanie. Whatever had happened on their road trip, whatever her personal feelings, she’d pushed through them enough to keep it together for River.

They arrived at the hospital and a nurse helped River into a wheelchair before turning to Mark and Lanie expectantly. “Who’s her coach?”

Mark looked at Lanie, who was looking right back at him.

“One of you needs to come back with us,” the nurse said impatiently. “To keep Mama here comfortable and calm.”

River’s gaze was glued to Lanie with fear and hope and expectation.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Lanie reminded her. “You’d be better off without me.”

“No!” River clutched Lanie’s hand tight enough that the skin went stark white.

Mark felt Lanie brace herself and nod. “Okay,” she said. “Okay, I’ll go with you.” She walked off at River’s side and just before she vanished behind the swinging double doors of the ER, she glanced back at him with a fearful expression.

He smiled with what he hoped was confidence. “I’ll be right here waiting for you,” he said, and he knew that he wasn’t talking about just tonight. Whether she got that or not, he had no idea. But she nodded and vanished.

He headed to the front desk, thinking about how she’d come through for River in spite of how she really felt about her. In fact, she’d come through for all the people he cared about one way or another: his mom, his girls, his sisters, hell, his entire family. He could bury his head in the sand all he wanted, it wouldn’t change the fact.

He wasn’t just falling in love with her, he actually already loved her, every single stubborn, frustrating, gorgeous inch.

Chapter 28

Anxiety: Okay, but what if—

Me: Dude, we went over this a hundred times already.

Anxiety: I know, but hear me out. I’ve found twenty new reasons you should be worried.

Me: Go on.

Lanie stood at River’s hospital bedside, watching her grimace through an internal exam.

“Four centimeters dilated and fifty percent effaced,” the nurse said and gave River a sympathetic smile. “Still a ways to go yet, I’m afraid. We can’t do an epidural until the anesthesiologist gets here.”

Sweaty and flushed, River dropped her head back to her pillow and stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t think I can do this. I’m too tired.” She lifted her head again. “I want to go home. I’ll come back tomorrow instead, okay?”

She asked this with such sweet desperation that Lanie actually felt her heart squeeze.

The nurse looked to Lanie for help.

Lanie screwed up her courage. “You can do this, River.”

“No, I can’t.”

“You can. You’re the strongest person I know.”

The nurse smiled at Lanie and left the room. Some of her fear must have shown in her face because River let out a choked laugh and went back to staring up at the ceiling. “Look, I know how you feel about me but if you could just stay with me through this, I’ll never ask another thing of you.” A contraction hit hard and swift and River nearly broke Lanie’s fingers.

“Whew,” Lanie said, sinking to the chair, swiping her brow.

“Hard on you, is it?” River asked dryly.

“Hey, I don’t know what I’m doing.” Lanie looked at all the various things River was hooked up to. “I know nothing about having a baby.”

“It’s okay,” River said. “I know. I just need to keep breathing through the contractions.” As yet another contraction hit, River squeezed Lanie’s hand and inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her mouth.

Lanie found herself doing the same right along with her, so that when another contraction hit, harder, faster, and stole River’s breath, Lanie was able to guide her through the breathing and slow her down.

“Good job,” River said weakly when the contraction had passed and she flopped back to her pillow.

Lanie had to laugh. “I should be saying that to you.”

And she did. Many, many times over the next two hours as the contractions continued. Nurses came and went, but the only constant in the room was Lanie at River’s side. And then suddenly there was a lot of talk about centimeters and dilation, all of it going over Lanie’s head.

“I think I’m going into transition now,” River translated, panting but somehow sounding shockingly calm.

“Transition?”

“It’s the last, most intensive phase of labor. The baby’s engaged in my pelvis and has dropped close to my cervix, making it soften and become thin.”

“That sounds . . . painful,” Lanie said, more than a little horrified at how barbaric all this seemed. “Where are the drugs?”

“Still waiting on the anesthesiologist,” the nurse said with empathy. “But at this point, you’re past the stage when an epidural would work anyway.”

“I’m okay,” River said, though she didn’t look it. She was breathing heavily and looking pale. “But I really should be breathing much slower,” she said through gritted teeth.

Lanie turned to the door. “This is inhumane. I’m going to go find you some drugs—”

“No, wait.” River grabbed her wrist with shocking strength, digging in too. “I can’t do this without you.”

“But you already know what to do.” And plus, the realization that there was really a baby coming was just hitting her. Kyle’s baby. The man she’d loved and trusted, the man who’d denied her a child but had given River one. Suddenly she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to be strong enough for River.

“I want you here,” River said tightly, getting a grip on the front of Lanie’s shirt with the strength of an Olympian champion. “I need you here, okay? So please, shut the fuck up, hold my hand, and breathe with me, and for Chrissake don’t leave me, or so help me God, I’ll kick your scrawny ass, and trust me, I could do it and hide your body where it will never be found.”

The nurse patted Lanie’s hand. “Don’t worry about it, dear. She doesn’t mean it, it’s the pain talking.”

Lanie was pretty sure River did mean it, every single word. So she didn’t leave. And River was . . . unbelievable. It was really incredible. By the time she was fully effaced—a word Lanie didn’t want described, thank you very much—the room was suddenly filled with nurses and a doctor.

Lanie was there through the whole thing and damn if it wasn’t the most amazing thing she’d ever been a part of.

“What if she looks like Kyle?” River asked during a rare break from the pushing.

“She won’t,” Lanie promised, and hoped to God that was true.

The tiny infant girl who finally made her way into the world and was set on River’s chest was covered in gunk and looked disgusting and . . . she was the most amazing thing Lanie had ever seen. So much so that she found herself frozen in place. The baby was here. Kyle’s baby.

River was both crying and laughing. “Hi, sweetness,” she whispered, stroking a finger along the baby’s cheek. “You made it. We made it. And look at you, you’re so beautiful.”