Mercer had put up a wall to divide the bedroom in two. In the new little nursery stood a bassinet with cheery lemony bedding. The bureau was a good height for changing diapers, and the drawers were filled with snowy diapers and the tiny shirts and kimonos and drawstring nightgowns she had sewn.

Leah smoothed her hands over her gigantic belly. Dr. Adams had told her to call when the contractions were ten minutes apart, but twelve was close to ten. What if ten minutes came at noon and the nurse was on her lunch hour? What if Leah had to give birth all alone at home?

She couldn’t risk her daughter’s life.

Leah crossed the backyard and knocked on the Bellamys’ back door. No one answered, as expected. Mercer would be at the bank, Rita Sue volunteering at the Camp Forrest hospital, and the children in school.

Leah opened the door. Rita Sue had told Leah to use their phone at any time, but the kitchen felt oddly unfamiliar without the Bellamy family, and the whir of the phone dial under Leah’s finger sounded loud enough to summon every police officer in Coffee County.

“Good morning. Dr. Adams’s office.” Nurse Hutton’s high-pitched voice greeted her.

“This is Mrs. Paxton. I’m in labor. My contractions are twelve minutes apart.”

“I’ll let Dr. Adams know. Go to the hospital when they’re ten minutes apart.”

“Yes—” Leah’s belly went rigid, not painful but very uncomfortable. She glanced at her watch. “That’s . . . now.”

“All right, hon. Go on in. Dr. Adams will meet you at the hospital later.”

In a few minutes, Leah headed down Washington Street with the suitcase Rita Sue had loaned her, feeling small and alone. Another contraction hit, and she braced herself on the trunk of an elm tree.

She knew the Lord was her provider and true Father, but right then, all she wanted was someone to hold her hand and tell her everything would be all right.

If only Clay could be that someone. He was so strong and calm and knowledgeable in that physician-like way of his.

The contraction subsided, and she turned onto Grundy Street and inhaled spring-scented air. With Easter only a few days past, flowers blooming around front porches, and a baby about to be born, everything sang of life.

If only spring didn’t mean death for Clay.

She shuddered and stroked her belly. She wouldn’t think of that today.

Thank goodness she only had one more contraction before she reached the Queen City Hospital. Since Leah was no longer employed at Camp Forrest, she couldn’t go to the familiar hospital on base.

The building was small and simple in the modern streamlined fashion.