sleep.”
“You don’t need to. Just relax.” Ashley opened her MacBook and selected a playlist of soothing music. “Half hour.”
She left the room, Sofie right behind her.
“She needs more nutritious food.” Sofie began to wrap half a dozen muffins into a foil packet.
“She needs two months of bed rest.” Ashley scooped up one of the cats and rubbed her face on its silky orange fur. “I see some puffiness in her face that concerns me.”
Sofie’s eyes widened. “Preeclampsia?”
“I hope not. She doesn’t like doctors much.”
“It’s the expense.” Sofie crossed the room and began to scrub at the soaking pan.
The cat’s warmth and low purr soothed Ashley’s own stress level. “Maybe I can persuade Tim White not to bill her, but me.”
Although she worked independently, Dr. White was the supervising physician all nurse-midwives were required to work with in the event of a patient emergency. He was a good doctor and a kind man, but he carried far more expenses than Ashley did, including staggering medical malpractice insurance costs far above what Ashley was required to carry.
“If her blood pressure is even a little higher than what is acceptable, I can be considered negligent if I don’t refer her.”
“If you refer her and she doesn’t go,” Sofie said, “you aren’t liable for what—”
Ashley’s lips compressed, and her hands tightened on the cat enough that he squeaked and leaped from her arms with an indignant thud on the kitchen floor.
Sofie flushed. “That was a stupid thing to say, wasn’t it?” She shoved her soapy fingers into her mass of curly dark hair held off her face with a beaded stretchy band. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“I think you do.” Ashley tried to meet Sofie’s gaze.
She turned away and reached in her pocket for her cell phone. “I need to call my mother back.”
“What is going on, Sofie? It’s only six thirty in Texas, isn’t it?”
“ Madre was up all night delivering a—” Sofie clamped her hand over her mouth, her dark eyes growing huge.
“Your mother isn’t supposed to be delivering babies, Sofie.” Ashley hated sounding uptight, but midwives without licenses made life difficult for those like her who had hundreds of hours of clinical training and half a decade of education. “What happened?”
“I know she isn’t supposed to.” Sofie’s eyes darted around the room, avoiding Ashley’s. “Something happened. Something bad. Something real bad. I don’t know yet . . . I can’t get any sense from my brother, and she is locked in her room . . .” Trailing off, she darted out the back door on a wave of cold, damp air.
Ashley rubbed her eyes in the hope of removing some of the gritty feel. Instead, she rubbed mascara into them, making the fatigue-borne scratchiness worse.
She peeked in on Mary Kate, who was sleeping, and then went down the hallway to the office. Although her computer was in the exam room, she kept a print calendar on her desk in the event something happened to the computer. She spent several minutes reviewing her scheduled appointments. Nothing else today unless Kelly Fiske’s baby arrived two weeks early. Doubting that would happen from what she had seen in Kelly’s last exam, Ashley thought to leave a message on her voice mail telling people her phone was out of order and to call the cell.
She exited through the front door, iPhone in hand, in the event Sofie was calling from the backyard, and changed her voice-mail message on the landline. By that time, the telephone office was open, so she requested a repair be made.
Now even colder, she shoved her phone into her jeans pocket and returned to the house.
Sofie sat at the table with both hands wrapped around a mug of steaming coffee and tears tracking down her smooth olive-skinned cheeks.
“Hey, what’s this about?” Ashley took one of Sofie’s hands in hers. It trembled beneath her fingers. “Your hands are colder than
“You don’t need to. Just relax.” Ashley opened her MacBook and selected a playlist of soothing music. “Half hour.”
She left the room, Sofie right behind her.
“She needs more nutritious food.” Sofie began to wrap half a dozen muffins into a foil packet.
“She needs two months of bed rest.” Ashley scooped up one of the cats and rubbed her face on its silky orange fur. “I see some puffiness in her face that concerns me.”
Sofie’s eyes widened. “Preeclampsia?”
“I hope not. She doesn’t like doctors much.”
“It’s the expense.” Sofie crossed the room and began to scrub at the soaking pan.
The cat’s warmth and low purr soothed Ashley’s own stress level. “Maybe I can persuade Tim White not to bill her, but me.”
Although she worked independently, Dr. White was the supervising physician all nurse-midwives were required to work with in the event of a patient emergency. He was a good doctor and a kind man, but he carried far more expenses than Ashley did, including staggering medical malpractice insurance costs far above what Ashley was required to carry.
“If her blood pressure is even a little higher than what is acceptable, I can be considered negligent if I don’t refer her.”
“If you refer her and she doesn’t go,” Sofie said, “you aren’t liable for what—”
Ashley’s lips compressed, and her hands tightened on the cat enough that he squeaked and leaped from her arms with an indignant thud on the kitchen floor.
Sofie flushed. “That was a stupid thing to say, wasn’t it?” She shoved her soapy fingers into her mass of curly dark hair held off her face with a beaded stretchy band. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“I think you do.” Ashley tried to meet Sofie’s gaze.
She turned away and reached in her pocket for her cell phone. “I need to call my mother back.”
“What is going on, Sofie? It’s only six thirty in Texas, isn’t it?”
“ Madre was up all night delivering a—” Sofie clamped her hand over her mouth, her dark eyes growing huge.
“Your mother isn’t supposed to be delivering babies, Sofie.” Ashley hated sounding uptight, but midwives without licenses made life difficult for those like her who had hundreds of hours of clinical training and half a decade of education. “What happened?”
“I know she isn’t supposed to.” Sofie’s eyes darted around the room, avoiding Ashley’s. “Something happened. Something bad. Something real bad. I don’t know yet . . . I can’t get any sense from my brother, and she is locked in her room . . .” Trailing off, she darted out the back door on a wave of cold, damp air.
Ashley rubbed her eyes in the hope of removing some of the gritty feel. Instead, she rubbed mascara into them, making the fatigue-borne scratchiness worse.
She peeked in on Mary Kate, who was sleeping, and then went down the hallway to the office. Although her computer was in the exam room, she kept a print calendar on her desk in the event something happened to the computer. She spent several minutes reviewing her scheduled appointments. Nothing else today unless Kelly Fiske’s baby arrived two weeks early. Doubting that would happen from what she had seen in Kelly’s last exam, Ashley thought to leave a message on her voice mail telling people her phone was out of order and to call the cell.
She exited through the front door, iPhone in hand, in the event Sofie was calling from the backyard, and changed her voice-mail message on the landline. By that time, the telephone office was open, so she requested a repair be made.
Now even colder, she shoved her phone into her jeans pocket and returned to the house.
Sofie sat at the table with both hands wrapped around a mug of steaming coffee and tears tracking down her smooth olive-skinned cheeks.
“Hey, what’s this about?” Ashley took one of Sofie’s hands in hers. It trembled beneath her fingers. “Your hands are colder than
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