Deep in the Valley by Robyn Carr Page B

docs!” His glassy-eyed look suggested he wondered just who was crazy. And he hung on for dear life while June rounded the curves.
    June pulled off the road and headed down what appeared to be an overgrown path, the space between the trees narrow and dark. “There’s a back way into their orchard. I called Mike Dickson two weeks ago and told him he’d better make sure it’s cleared, what with his wife being pregnant.” They bounced over a deep rut and John hit his head on the roof of the Jeep.
    “Ouch! And this is cleared?”
    “Ah!” she said, breaking through the forest into the orchard, then maneuvering wildly among the trees. “Here we go! The Dicksons are the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Big, happy family, hard-working folks, and their orchard’s been in the money since the first treegave fruit, I think. If you ever need anything, for any reason, you can count on Mike and Julianna Dickson.” June came around the back of the house and pulled in front, stopping suddenly behind a tractor. “You understand, you’re on your own.”
    Before he could reply, she was gone—out of the Jeep, up the porch steps, kicking off her muddy boots and running into the house at breakneck speed in her stocking feet. John was stranded up to his ankles in mud. Wet spring, she had said.
    Mike Dickson’s mother was quietly tending small children in the front room, but June whizzed past without even the formality of a hello. She knew where to find Julianna—in the downstairs bedroom with her young husband at her side.
    “Sometimes I feel so left out,” June complained as she snapped on rubber gloves. Julianna’s knees were raised under the bedsheet and Mike sat beside her, holding her hand. Fresh towels had been laid out; Mike had delivered all his own children—though not by plan—and knew what to expect.
    “I tried to wait,” Julianna breathlessly replied.
    June threw back the sheet and took her place between Julianna’s raised knees. “There’s a doctor with me, Julianna. He’s an OB, so don’t get nervous when you see him. Thinking of coming here to— Oh my! Hello, baby. Please don’t push, darling. Please, please, please.” She ran her gloved fingers around the crowning head. “Let’s see if we can let him come slowly, so I can watch that cord….”
    John Stone was suddenly beside her, helping himself to gloves from her bag, snapping them on and looking atthe crowning head with an expression that could only be described as satisfaction. The first thing he said was, “John Stone, how do you do.” The second thing was, “Ah, yes.”
    John plucked a clamp out of June’s bag, draped a clean towel over one arm, leaned into the field of birth and said, “Let’s do it!”
    Before June could concur, Julianna brought out the baby. First came the head, after which June yelled, “Stop!” When she’d checked the neck for a cord and uttered a quiet, “Okay,” the baby was born in one swoosh. John clamped the cord and held out the towel. June wrapped the baby and turned him over, gently rubbing his back. Cries filled the room at once; no suction was necessary.
    “I’ll be a son of a gun!” John said. He made eye contact with Julianna, grinned his biggest grin and said, “You’re almost as good at this as me! Big, fat boy!”
    He actually nudged June back a bit so he could have a better look at the birth canal. He massaged Julianna’s lower abdomen. “You’re doing great,” he said. “Excellent. You’re in such fabulous condition. With such a fast birth, you’d expect slack muscle tone, but you’re fit as a boxer.”
    “Floor scrubbing,” she said. “My mama said floor scrubbing on your hands and knees brought babies easier.”
    “Are you about ready to stop scrubbing floors, Julianna?” June asked.
    Mike laughed and kissed his wife’s hand. “I don’t know that you can complain anymore, June. You finally got invited to the party.”
    “June, let’s put that baby to the breast. It’ll