A Stormy Reunion

Nurse-midwife Gloria Rodriguez prides herself on her independence—but right now she needs help. There’s a hurricane approaching and she has one very pregnant patient on her hands. With so many people already evacuated, the only one Gloria can turn to is Rigo Vasquez, chief of the beach patrol in Port Provident. The man she holds responsible for the death of her husband. Rigo needs to make amends for his past mistakes, and Gloria’s desperate phone call opens the door to make things right with his first love. Rigo is honor-bound to keep her and her patient safe, but once the storm passes, will Gloria still need him?

“Vasquez.”

Although she hadn’t spoken to Rodrigo Vasquez in longer than she cared to remember, his short salutation made time stand still, and Gloria realized she knew his voice almost as well as she knew her own.

“Rigo, it’s Gloria. I need your help.” There was no time to catch up, which thankfully meant they wouldn’t have to discuss the night her husband died or why Rigo shut himself out of her life shortly thereafter.

“Gloria.” Rigo paused. “Wow, it’s been a while. What do you need?”

He didn’t hang up on her, so that was a start. Even though merely rediscovering his number in her contacts list made her shake with fear and memories, Gloria knew calling Rigo was the right move. She had to do whatever it took for the health and safety of her patient—even if it affected the safety of her heart.

Quickly, in her mind, she prayed he wouldn’t leave her all alone again, not at this moment when she needed official help so badly.

The writing bug bit KRISTEN ETHRIDGE around the time she first held a pencil. She especially enjoys crafting stories of happily-ever-after combined with God’s love—the greatest happily-ever-after. A Romance Writers of America Golden Heart Award finalist, she lives in Texas with her husband, children and a self-important poodle. She would love for you to visit her online at kristenethridge.com or on Facebook at KristenEthridgeBooks.

Second Chance

Sweethearts

Kristen Ethridge

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;

I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you.

—Isaiah 43:1–2

I couldn’t have written a story about an above-and-beyond midwife if I hadn’t been blessed to have known four of the best. To Melanie Dossey, CNM, Katherine Grimes Read, CNM, Kathleen Mayorga, CNM, and Lisa Black, LM, CPM, thank you for being a part of the days my girls were born. I have nothing but wonderful memories of each of their births and it’s due in large part to your kindness, skill and trust in the process. I wish every mama could be in such caring, compassionate and knowledgeable hands during pregnancy and birth.

And to the first responders of Galveston, Texas, during Hurricane Ike, and my fellow residents who lived through Ike and then rebuilt our island even better than before, this book is for you. Thank you for being the greatest community of caring, generous people who discovered their own strength through adversity. Even though life’s path has taken me off the island now, I’ll always be proud to be B.O.I.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

As a midwife, Gloria Garcia Rodriguez knew all too well how life could change in twenty-four hours, and today was no exception. By tomorrow, Hurricane Hope would be too close for comfort to Gloria’s island home.

On Monday, the Texas Gulf Coast looked in the clear.

On Tuesday, forecasters said the mass of clouds churning in the Gulf of Mexico had wobbled to the west.

And now, on Wednesday, the red line of the hurricane tracker drew a bull’s-eye for Port Provident, Texas. If everything stayed on track, it would be here soon. The swirl of violent weather was too close and moving too fast.

Gloria had tried by phone to reach Tanna DeLong, a midwifery client due to give birth any day now, but there’d been no answer.

With the hurricane bearing down on Provident Island, Gloria knew she wouldn’t be able to rest easy or evacuate herself until she’d ensured all her expectant moms were off the island and had a contingency plan in case they went into labor while evacuated.

Gloria easily reached the other two moms who were close to their due dates. Both planned to shelter with relatives in Houston, which was close enough for safety while traveling, but still far enough away to escape the brunt of the storm. There were plenty of hospitals nearby where either of those mothers-to-be could reasonably expect to be taken care of, should the need arise.

On the other hand, Tanna was younger—only nineteen—and didn’t have family to take care of her. She’d come to Port Provident six months ago after fleeing an abusive boyfriend in Georgia. Apartment L5 was technically leased to a friend who’d offered Tanna a couch to crash on. At her most recent checkup, though, Tanna shared with Gloria that her friend had been picked up by the Port Provident Police Department on a drug charge and hadn’t been home in two weeks.

Tanna was all alone, except for the baby in her belly. Gloria always felt responsible for the safety of the mothers in her care, but somehow she felt unusually protective of young Tanna.

Water was already lapping in the streets, so Gloria had decided to take her bike and stay up on the sidewalk as she made one final attempt, in person, to contact the last patient she had left in town.

Gloria locked her bike to the handrail of the narrow steps that led to the landing in front of apartment L5. As she walked up, she noticed the rust on the railing and the peeling green paint along the wall. The worn-out building depressed Gloria as much as the thought of the impending hurricane. How would a building that appeared to be on its last leg on a sunny day fare when a major storm pounded it? Gloria didn’t hold out much hope for the future of the small dilapidated apartment complex or the residents and possessions inside.

Gloria knocked at the door and waited for it to open, but it never did.

She knocked again, and the thin wood quivered a bit under the force of Gloria’s hand. The door opened slightly, the safety chain still connected at the top of the door. Tanna’s left eye was barely visible, but not much more.

“Gloria? What are you doing here?” The voice from behind the door sounded unsure.

“The hurricane is coming and I need to make sure you’re safe. All my other patients have evacuated. You’re the last pregnant mama on the island and we’ve got to get you out of here. Can you open the door?”

A warm breeze whipped up and slapped Gloria in the face, a small sign of what was to come.

“Get out of here? Where am I supposed to go? I don’t have anywhere to go.” She started to shut the door. Gloria quickly stuck her hand in and gripped the frame.

She reached up for the safety chain and poked it with a finger. “Undo this and let me in so we can talk, Tanna. We’ll figure out something, I promise.”

The crack in the door narrowed a bit. Gloria tried to figure out how she could wedge herself in the small space. She couldn’t let Tanna cut herself off like this, not with her first labor and a hurricane coming together on a collision course.

“Tanna, please. Don’t...” Gloria stuck her hand in the space and prayed Tanna wouldn’t slam the door shut on the now-vulnerable fingers.

A scraping noise came from just above Gloria’s head, and then the chain dropped free. The door opened just enough to allow Gloria a tight passage around her very pregnant patient.

“Oof. I’d really like to just go lay back down, Gloria. My back is killin’ me.”

“Your back? Upper or lower?” The door closed swiftly behind Gloria.

“Lower. Like right here.” Tanna pressed the top of her pelvis with her fingers. “I can’t get comfortable.”

Gloria had seen the start of labor more times than she could count. Normally, it didn’t faze her at all—it was just part of the whole process. But the average first-time mother in her care spent around fourteen hours in labor.

And according to the news reports, fourteen hours from now, Port Provident would be engulfed by Hurricane Hope.

Gloria took Tanna by the hand and led her to the couch. “Come on over here, Tanna. Let’s talk. Tell me more about how you’re feeling.”

The young mother-to-be moved a small cushion behind her back and sat down cautiously. Still holding her hand, Gloria sat next to her and asked a few questions about what Tanna was feeling and for how long.

Tanna’s water hadn’t broken yet, but after observing her and timing things, then doing a quick check of dilation, Gloria made a very certain diagnosis.

“Honey, those aren’t cramps. Those are contractions. You’re in labor. It’s still early and we have some time, but that’s a definite rhythmic and measurable pattern you’ve got going there. I’m getting you out of here.” Gloria reached in her purse for her cell phone.

“So we’re going to the clinic?” Tanna’s eyes darted, quick and catlike.

Gloria felt empathy for her. It was a lot to process.

Gloria did some processing of her own and furrowed her brow. “Well, no. The clinic is closed. It sits close to Gulfview Boulevard and Dr. Shipley was very concerned about flooding later.”

She’d come to Tanna’s on her bike, but clearly, Gloria would not be leaving on two wheels.

She thought about calling the paramedics, but this wasn’t an emergency. And it was far too early to take Tanna to the hospital. Women in this early of a stage of labor were sent home to wait and progress. Thanks to the imminent hurricane, she didn’t know what to do. But she knew she had to do something. Thankfully, she knew people who would know the best options. Maybe instead of going to Provident Medical Center, which would surely be understaffed tonight, someone could get them an escort off the island and she could get a hospital in Houston to admit Tanna a little earlier than usual, in light of the circumstances.

Gloria pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number she knew could bring help. It rang four times before going to voice mail.

“Tanna, go pack a small suitcase with whatever you need. We’re both going.”

She scrolled a little further through her contacts list.

Straight to voice mail.

Three more numbers, three more recorded messages.

Gloria was running out of numbers in her phone to call.

She scrolled through her list again. Maybe she’d overlooked someone.

Well, there was one more number she could call. She just hadn’t planned on ever calling it again. In fact, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t deleted it out of her phone two years ago.

Gloria’s fingers felt shaky as she connected the call. The phone stopped ringing and Gloria’s best hope for helping Tanna and her unborn child answered. “Vasquez.”

Although she hadn’t spoken to Rodrigo Vasquez in longer than she cared to remember, his short salutation made time stand still, and Gloria realized she knew his voice almost as well as she knew her own.

“Rigo, it’s Gloria. I need your help.” There was no time to catch up, which thankfully meant they wouldn’t have to discuss the night her husband died or why Rigo shut himself out of her life shortly thereafter.

“Gloria.” Rigo paused. “Wow, it’s been a while. What do you need?”

He didn’t hang up on her, so that was a start. Even though merely rediscovering his number in her contacts list made her shake with fear and memories, Gloria knew calling Rigo was the right move. She had to do whatever it took for the health and safety of her patient—even if it affected the safety of her heart. Quickly, in her mind, she prayed he wouldn’t leave her all alone again, not at this moment when she needed official help so badly.

“I need an escort off the island. I have a client in labor and I need to get her some place safe before the hurricane gets here.”

“I’m head of the Beach Patrol division now, Gloria, not back on regular patrol with Port Provident PD.”

“Your aunt told me that at church a few weeks ago. But no one else is answering their phones and I can’t call 9-1-1 for this, not with a hurricane on the way. I figure a first-time mom very early in the first stage of labor isn’t an emergency priority.”

“No, you’re right, it’s probably not. I was headed to check on a report of surfers on the east end—no one’s allowed in the water today. But I’ll radio Davis. He can go issue their citation and I can be to you in a few minutes. Where are you?”

“In the Gulf Air Apartments on Avenue R. Apartment L5.”

“On my way, Gloria—I’m close. Those apartments aren’t even safe. You shouldn’t be there to begin with. And they’re not going to make it through the hurricane unscathed. Those units are owned by a slumlord and have been falling apart for years.”

Through the phone, she heard the siren on Rigo’s truck begin to wail. “That’s why I called you.”

“Tanna?” Gloria called down the small hallway of the dingy apartment as she disconnected the call. “Are you ready? It’s time to go.”

* * *

In his years patrolling a beat around the streets of Port Provident, Rigo Vasquez had been through some of the island’s seediest crack houses, had shot criminals and had wound up with a few holes of his own, and ultimately watched as his best friend and patrol partner died.

But he’d never felt the slick, icy fear running through his veins like he did now, knowing Lieutenant Felipe Rodriguez’s widow waited on the other side of the door at the top of the stairs.

Rigo looked around the parking lot. Even as the new head of Port Provident’s Beach Patrol—a division of the police force that wasn’t just responsible for lifeguards and water safety, but also for keeping the island’s beaches safe and mischief-free—Rigo couldn’t keep from always assessing the scene. He was always on patrol. Rigo knew to trust his instincts, and he was thankful to have something small to keep his mind off what he was about to do.

He was about to face Gloria for the first time since the night his carelessness took everything away from her. Rigo knew he could never give her back her husband or her unborn child, and his gut squeezed tightly at the bitter memories.

But if he kept his focus and did his job, maybe he could get her out of here safely.

He owed that much to Felipe.

He owed that much to himself.

“Gloria! Open up.” He knocked on the door with his free hand, still gripping his weapon in the other.

Rigo felt his mouth go dry as he saw Gloria for the first time in almost seven hundred and thirty days. Not that he’d been counting. She’d changed, yet still looked completely the same.

Her hair used to come down to her shoulders, but now it fell in layers just past her chin. It seemed lighter, too, with more honey than mocha. But with the summer days just now beginning to fade away, Rigo figured those highlights were the work of hours spent with sun and sand, not in a salon.

Or maybe it was just the glow of the yellow bug light overhead. He didn’t want to think about it too much.

He looked past her into the small, dark apartment. Noticing her hair was okay, he figured, but Rigo didn’t want to see her eyes, didn’t want to remember all the tears. He wanted to get her and her patient to safety, tell himself it made up for the years of pain he’d caused and go back to his carefully orchestrated plan of quietly making amends while living separate lives on the small island.

“You ready?”

“Yes.” She let out a soft breath, like a feather floating away on the breeze. He wondered if she’d been holding it as she listened to his footsteps come up the stairs.

“Tanna? Come on, honey, we’ve got to go.” Gloria put her arm around a slightly built, very pregnant teenager. A scuffed-up suitcase rested at the girl’s feet. “Felipe will keep us safe.”

She’d called him Felipe.

He didn’t think anything could have hurt more than two years ago when the ER physician came out to tell him that his lifelong best friend, his partner on the force, was dead on arrival at the hospital. But now he knew he’d been wrong.

It was hearing Gloria call him Felipe.

It was hearing the love of his life calling for someone who’d been gone for years.

It was knowing that he couldn’t protect Felipe then, he couldn’t protect Gloria now and he couldn’t protect his heart ever.

“Rigo. I meant Rigo,” Gloria said as they stopped in front of his beach patrol truck. She looked up at him, then just as quickly looked away. “This hurricane has me distracted. Thank you for coming when I called.”

“Gloria, you know I’d do anything for you.”

She stared at him, unblinking.

“Really? So where have you been the last two years?”

She never missed a beat, and she was clearly still as direct as ever.

Rigo took a breath and stared into his cupped hands. He just wanted to get her and the young mother in his truck and get out of there, but he knew he owed her an answer that had already been put off for two years.

“A couple of steps behind, Gloria.”

“What? I had no idea what your answer would be, but I at least expected it to make sense.”

He promised himself a long time ago in a poorly lit, practically bare room that he wouldn’t run from his past anymore. He wanted to break that promise now. Badly. But he’d already broken too many promises where Gloria Garcia Rodriguez was concerned.

“I’ve been around, Gloria. I’ve just tried to stay out of your way since I’ve been back in town.”

“Are you saying you’ve been avoiding me?”

Rigo shrugged. “It hasn’t been coincidence that you didn’t see me, Glo. But it hasn’t been some ulterior motive, either.”

“Then what is it?”

The rain began to fall more steadily from the solid wall of gray overhead.

“It’s complicated, Gloria.” The left corner of his mouth twisted bitterly. “Can we just leave it at that for now? The only thing you need to do is get out of here and off this island. You still have about an hour to get your things and go before they close the causeway. This isn’t the time to conduct an interrogation.”

She started to say something, but Rigo raised a hand and cut her off. “Not that you’re not the best I’ve ever known at it. The CIA should have posted a recruiter at your door before you went to nursing school. They lost out.”

Gloria rolled her eyes. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do. I know a lot about you, remember?”

Rigo’s mind did a quick rewind past recent history and stopped on a sunny day in the late spring almost fifteen years ago. Had it really been that long?

In his mind’s eye, he could see a version of the woman standing in front of him now, with hair teased a few inches higher and lipstick a few shades brighter. She stood at the end of the baseball dugout at Provident High School, just before practice was about to start. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he could almost feel the softness of her curves again under his tight arms, muscular from hours in the weight room and swing after swing that sent baseballs flying over the outfield fence. He remembered her saying something completely serious about where they’d be in the future, and as usual, he’d laughed it off.

“Glo...I’ve told you a thousand times. You’re not going to be happy taking over your parents’ restaurant. You just need to be around babies. Lots of them.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the mouth, teasing her out of her scowl and back into a smile. “Preferably mine. After I make it to the big leagues, you can stay home, knee-deep in being a mom, and we’ll pay someone to take over the restaurant. Just because being a madre is a traditional role, it doesn’t mean what’s in your heart is less valuable than being some big-shot career woman. Just be who God made you to be—and He didn’t make you to be a restaurant owner. Don’t let anyone tell you what’s in your heart is wrong. Trust me. I know you. I know you better than you know yourself, Gloria Garcia.”

“Maybe you do, Rigo. Maybe that’s why we’ll be together forever.”

Rigo pushed the daydream away like the windshield wipers he’d been using all afternoon. He forced himself to gain control of his thoughts, to put them back into the here and now. Gloria had called Rigo today only for Tanna’s protection.

Not her own.

He could only assume she’d been honest about dialing his number because she didn’t have any other options right then. She didn’t call because she needed him in her life.

Felipe’s death was in the past. Felipe and Gloria’s son’s death was in the past.

But in the present, Rigo Vasquez needed do his job, take Gloria and her client back to Gloria’s house so Gloria could collect a few belongings and get off the island.

Then, once he knew they’d be safe, Rigo knew where he needed to go—back to Gloria’s past.

Chapter Two

After dropping Gloria, her bike and her patient off at Gloria’s house to gather some things and then get to safety, Rigo headed back to his office in the Provident Island Beach Patrol headquarters. Located on the top floor of a three-story concrete behemoth of a building that sat directly on the sand about fifty feet back from the shoreline, it looked out on an empty beach today.

He dug through a few piles of papers, looking for a set of ATV keys, but paused and picked up the small framed picture of his mom that was still sitting on the corner of his desk. He’d always loved this picture of the two of them at a baseball tournament in his youth. Cancer took her when he was just eighteen, but it hadn’t robbed him of the memory of her steady, sweet smile.

First Gloria, now his mom. Too many old memories were coming back to his mind today.

Chances were that if Hurricane Hope truly came in as a strong category 3 hurricane, much of the island would be ruined. Storms like that brought feet upon feet of storm surge, and very little on the island would not be touched by it in some way, Rigo feared. The way Provident Island looked today would likely become a bittersweet memory, just like his mother and those carefree high school days when he was in love with Gloria.

He shoved the picture in his pocket, turned off the light and locked the door.

He didn’t know if he’d ever unlock it again.

Taking the ride back down the elevator, Rigo realized it would probably be one of the last rides he’d get to take for a while. He held out absolutely no hope for the squeaky old elevator, which had to basically be overhauled at the end of every season because the saltwater in the air rusted out just about every part and sand wedged in every nook and cranny. No way it would survive this hurricane.

“Goodbye, old girl,” Rigo said as he got out of the elevator and gave the buttons a small tap. He quickly tossed the picture of his mother on the front seat of his truck and headed back to the storage area underneath the Surfside Beach Pavilion to move the ATV.

The wet sand made the ATV’s tires a bit sluggish, but Rigo was able to get some traction and speed as he headed toward the main road leading to Gulfview Boulevard.

At the stoplight, Rigo tightened the hood of his rain jacket around the baseball cap he was wearing to keep the water out of his eyes as much as possible. This particular ATV had a sun cover on it, and while there wasn’t a drop of sunshine in the sky anymore, it did keep some of the rain out. Just not much.

Kind of like Gloria. Now that he’d seen her, had talked to her, the sound of her voice and the look of her face played in his mind like a video loop. He couldn’t shake her from his thoughts, not even with all he needed to do to finish securing the island’s beaches and providing support for water rescues before Hurricane Hope arrived.

As he jammed the ATV in gear as hard as he could, pushing the little green four-wheeler through the rising water, Rigo noticed a small waterspout twisting out of the harbor and hopping easily onto the waterlogged street. Hurricane Hope wasn’t playing games. A gust of wind knocked into the waterspout, shearing the little twister and stopping its momentum.

Thump. Thump.

What on earth?

He felt like he was just one step ahead of being swept away or blown away, but since he hadn’t seen a car on the streets since he’d left the beach, Rigo quickly stopped the ATV, knowing he needed to make sure that whatever fell on him wasn’t going to put him in any further danger.

He stood in the middle of the street, checked the cover above him and saw two sand trout on top of the soaked brown canvas. They’d been sucked up by the waterspout and dropped on top of the ATV when the spout died out.

Wow. It was raining fish.

A fishnado. He didn’t even know what to think about that.

Static crackled and then Rigo heard a voice. “Chief Vasquez, can you give me a 10-8?”

Rigo pulled his radio out of the plastic bag he usually carried it in to protect it from water while out on patrol. Service on the radio frequencies had been spotty all afternoon and was getting worse.

“This is Vasquez. I’m near Fifteenth, heading for the Park Board lot to drop off the last ATV. Can someone pick me up when I get there and take me back to my truck?”

“Not right now, sir.” Rigo could barely pick out enough syllables through the crackling to understand what the dispatcher was saying. “All of our available officers are being directed to the causeway to begin shutting it down.”

“They’re what?”

“Closing the causeway. The winds have come on much stronger sooner than anyone expected, and they are now too strong for cars to be at the top of the bridge.”

Even the pounding of the rain and the static on the radio couldn’t drown out the one thought in Rigo’s mind.

Gloria.

She’d called him to help keep her patient safe. He doubted they’d had enough time since he dropped them off to get Gloria’s things together and subsequently get off the island. With the causeway closing, they’d both be stuck here, and the young woman was in labor. Rigo had to think of something, and fast.

Rigo turned back toward the beach pavilion to get his truck, consigning the four-wheeler to wash away with the eventual tide. As he struggled to drive the little utility vehicle, he bowed his head, not just against the force of the blowing rain, but in a silent prayer that he still had enough time to rescue Gloria and get her off the island.

* * *

Gloria knew she was running out of time. But she couldn’t stop herself from looking out the window and watching the storm clouds roll in. Tanna had the TV on in the living room, and as Gloria walked past, she recognized Rick O’Connell from NWN, the National Weather News channel, reporting live from the barrier wall that ran along the beach at Gulfview Boulevard. Rick O’Connell’s presence was the sign that the storm was going to be massive. He never went anywhere that wasn’t going to be a really big deal.

A heavy mist was falling on Rick and his bright yellow raincoat. He wasn’t wearing the hood, though, and his trendy longer haircut was blowing back and forth with the gusts.

It was weird to think this was all happening right outside her window—literally—and yet, she was watching the ever-heavier lines of rain and buffeting winds on TV, as though it could have been anywhere in the world.

She’d been through a number of hurricanes since her family moved to Port Provident from Mexico when she was a child. They’d lived on the Yucatán Peninsula, so she’d seen a few there, too. Gloria considered herself a hurricane pro at this point. Go to the local big box store. Buy plenty of batteries, bottled water, a new flashlight or two, and load up on the nonperishable food. She had a great mini propane stove that she’d boiled many a pot of water on to make posthurricane ramen noodles. She knew when to fill up the bathtub and had studied the required elevation survey of her lot before making an offer on the house. She had moving things to higher ground down to a science.

But this time, it wasn’t just about her. She had a pregnant teenager in her care—and that girl could go into the next stage of labor and become a mama at any minute.

“Gloria. You’re still here.”

She jumped at the sound of a deep voice as her front door opened.

“Rigo.” Ice caught in her throat at the reappearance of the man who’d kept popping into every thought she’d had for the past half hour.

“They’ve closed the causeway early. The wind is gaining speed fast.” He shut the door behind him with a soft click, then stood near Gloria in front of her only window that wasn’t covered with plywood to guard against flying debris. Tanna got off the couch to take a look, as well. They watched in comfortable silence for a few moments as the sheets of rain beat against the small window and loose palm fronds swirled in the streets below, blowing and tumbling in the wind. Suddenly, Gloria became aware that something was very wrong.

“Rigo! You’re dripping on the floor!” A puddle had begun to collect near the sturdy work boots he was wearing.

He shrugged, a sheepish grin catching the corners of his narrow lips. “I’m soaked to the bone, but that puddle isn’t me.”

“Gloria?” Tanna’s usually soft voice jumped an octave. “I think that’s me. I think my water broke.”

Gloria’s heart sank. A crack of adrenaline to match the lightning bolts outside shot through her body. “Okay, if we can’t get her to a hospital off the island, we’ve got to get her to Provident Medical Center, then. The clinic is closed, obviously.”

Rigo shook his head. “Can’t. I heard it on the radio on my way over here. They’re near the harbor and the water is higher there than anywhere else. Their power is already down and their main generator failed. They have only the absolute bare minimum amount of backup power. It’s a good thing they evacuated all the critical patients this morning and discharged everyone who could be sent home. They’re not accepting any patients right now. I’m afraid it’s going to get more dire before this night is over.”

Gloria settled Tanna back on the sofa, then quickly checked her rate of breathing and the time between the pulse of her contractions. Everything in Tanna’s body was kicking into gear.

So was Hurricane Hope. A gust of wind shook the front windows to the house.

Gloria looked around her little home. She’d never stayed on the island through a storm as big as what the NWN reporters were now saying Hope would evolve to. She thought back to the elevation certificate she and Felipe had to obtain as part of the home’s purchase. The home was behind the barrier wall that ran behind the beach and protected the majority of the residential areas of the city, but a generous storm surge would put several feet of water into her home, without question.

She’d made a career from out-of-hospital deliveries at the birth center. She was confident in her skills, no matter where she needed to use them. She knew Tanna was at low risk of any kind of complications, but even so, Gloria always operated from the vantage point of caution where mamas and babies were concerned.

And right now, caution had been thrown to the wind and blown miles away. The little home on Travis Place was no place for Tanna to labor and give birth.

Gloria paced, three steps forward, followed by three steps back. “But if the causeway is closed, we’re trapped on the island. I don’t want to take her to the shelter of last resort at the high school, either, if I don’t have to. Too many people. She doesn’t need an audience. Stress can slow down labor and complicate it, putting us in an emergency situation. This is stressful enough. I don’t want to add to it.”

Rigo looked out the window. “I’ve got the beach patrol truck. It’s a four-by-four, so we should be able to get back to Tía Inez’s house just fine. But not if we wait too much longer.”

Gloria’s head snapped around. “Your aunt’s house? What do you mean?”

“You said it yourself. The shelter isn’t ideal. But you can’t stay here. I don’t know what kind of night I’m going to have. I figure I’m going to be rescuing some pretty stubborn people who should have already left from their homes.” Rigo smiled. “But there’s no one more stubborn than my aunt, who just so happens to live in a house that survived the Great Storm of 1910 and every storm since.”

Gloria started to shake her head. The whole thing sounded crazy. Rigo held up his hand, wordlessly asking Gloria to hear him out.

“You can stay with her and take care of each other. I don’t expect the water to get up to the second story.” Rigo raked a hand through his wet hair, sending a small stream of water down his shirt and to the floor to join the widening puddle. “You’re not going to have lights or running water anywhere you go, not even at the shelter. I thought about it on the way over here and I think Inez’s house is your best option right now.” Gloria tried to focus on making a decision, but Rigo had on a white Beach Patrol T-shirt, and the water had rendered it practically see-through and as close as a second skin.

Just for a second, Gloria stopped running birthing scenarios in her head and caught herself staring. He clearly still works out as much as he did at eighteen on the baseball team.

Gloria shook her head to clear her derailed train of thought.

“What, you won’t go? You don’t really have a choice, Glo.” Rigo’s voice sounded strained. He looked at her, then Tanna, then the door.

“Gloria, please? Can we go there? Please.” There was no escaping the mix of pleading and rising panic in Tanna’s voice.

“Okay. I need ten minutes to finish gathering my things,” Gloria said to Rigo. Tanna’s shoulders relaxed slightly.

“Five. I don’t think the truck will be able to handle us staying here ten. The water’s already risen two inches up the tires while we’ve been talking. I’m starting to worry about the truck starting again.” He narrowed his eyes and stared at her straight-on. “Felipe would want you to take care of yourself first and get out of here as fast as you can. Stuff can be replaced. People can’t. You know that.”

Ferocity rose in Gloria, like an angry cat who’d been out on the streets too long. “Felipe? You lost all right to speak to me of Felipe when you led him into an ambush, then didn’t even have the decency to show up at his funeral. Believe me, Rigo, I know you can’t replace people.”

Her breath came out in short bursts through flared nostrils. Her jaw muscles clenched together. She knew she was right on this, and she would not back down. Felipe and his memory belonged to her. Not to the so-called best friend who bailed. She would not back down. Not even when she saw what looked like hurt in his eyes.

Rigo turned away and looked back out the window. “It wasn’t an ambush. Gloria, it was a traffic stop gone very, very wrong. You know that. The official investigation told you that.”

She knew every word of that report by heart. “Semantics don’t matter. He should have been there at the hospital. With me. With Mateo. You knew he was on his way to us in the hospital. You should have called someone else for backup.”

“He was nearby and there was no one else I trusted like Felipe. I knew they had drugs in the car. I knew something was going on. What I didn’t know was that they had a guy with a gun in the trunk who was going to pop out and start shooting.” He paused, then looked at her, but his brown eyes were blank. “Felipe was my partner. My best friend.”

Gloria felt her heart drain, as if she’d been shot point-blank in the chest. “No. He was my partner. My best friend. My husband. And now he’s gone.”

She couldn’t control herself. She buried her head in her hands. She would not cry in front of Rigo. “The memories in this house are all I have.”

Tanna laid on the couch and gave a soft moan that jarred Gloria out of the argument and out of the past. “Five minutes. I’m going out to start the truck while you pack and gather what you’ll need for the birth. Then we’ve got to go. I’m not about to leave you here so you can drown and go join him.”

Rigo walked back out in the rain, and Gloria took in one more panoramic view of the main area of the 1930s-era house she and Felipe had loved so much and bought and spent countless hours updating and renovating.

Even years after that terrible night when everything changed, Gloria had never had enough heart to change Mateo’s nursery. So everything had remained neat as a pin, and more or less just how it had been the last time Felipe walked out the door to go on patrol and Gloria had gone out to get a quick check from her OB because her kick counts were off.

Gloria looked out the little window again and saw that her street was now best described as a river. Rigo wasn’t exaggerating about the situation getting more dire by the minute. The water covered the front yard and would most likely continue to rise, then be creeping under the front door sooner rather than later. And when that happened, her orderly little house and orderly little life—the one she managed so tightly and fiercely because the alternative was too much to bear—would change tonight. And just thinking about it made an indescribable heaviness fill her chest, like thick cement reaching slowly to all corners of a mold.

Tanna exhaled deeply from her spot on the couch. “I knew I’d be nervous when labor finally got here. I just never imagined I’d be this nervous.”

“Well, Tanna, there’s a lot going on. It’s understandable that you’re scared. But I’m here and I’m not leaving your side and we’ll get through this together.” Gloria knew she couldn’t show Tanna her own burden about leaving this house and the memories she’d shared here. Tanna had enough worries of her own today.

“Lie down while I gather my things. I’ll check your dilation and other vitals as soon as we get to Inez’s house. You’re going to do great, Mama. Babies have been born in all kinds of conditions, and the vast majority of them throughout history haven’t had electricity, either. Your body knows exactly what to do, and it’s telling us that it’s almost there.”

Gloria opened the door to the storage closet in the hall where she kept the suitcases and pulled one out along with the plastic storage bin of birth supplies she kept packed at all times. Everything she needed—even shots of Pitocin in case of bleeding and a small tank of oxygen for mom or baby—was inside.

She made herself keep going, pulling a few shirts and shorts and pairs of sturdy shoes out of the closet. She grabbed a pair of pajamas and carefully folded them on top of the stack. Then she went into the bathroom and filled her toiletries bag with a few overnight essentials.

Gloria decided to walk through the house to see if there was anything else she needed to bring. As she passed by her desk, she reached in the drawer and grabbed the folder that Felipe had always kept their important papers in. From the bookshelf, she grabbed her own Bible and the family Bible, given to her by her abuela in Mexico. Gloria walked robot-like through each room of the house, not seeing much, until she stepped into the small blue room and stopped. She hardly ever came in this room. Most weeks, she just ran the vacuum across the carpet as quickly as possible.

Some weeks, she still had to stop the vacuum in the hall.

The rocking chair she’d planned to rock her own baby in had never moved from the corner. Without realizing what she was doing, Gloria crossed the room, sat in the chair and started rocking.

She picked up the oversize light brown teddy bear from the floor next to the chair and cradled it in her arms, the same way she’d been able to hold Mateo after he’d been stillborn—just the one time, with his eyes closed and no butterfly whispers of baby breaths in his lungs.

Fire pushed into her throat and collected like lava. Hot, slick, overpowering. The memories burned her mind and her soul.

This room was the last connection she had to her son who had died before he’d ever had a chance to live. Her darling baby. The only baby she would ever have.

What if she woke up tomorrow and this room was gone?

What if she woke up tomorrow and the last place she could feel Mateo’s presence and see Felipe’s labor of love in every stroke of paint on these walls...what if it was all gone?

Gloria hugged the teddy bear fiercely, then leaned over and bit the stuffed ear tightly to muffle the sobs that she couldn’t muster the fight to keep inside.

Tanna waddled into the doorway. “Whose room is this?”

A cottony feeling choked Gloria’s throat and she tried to wipe the tears off her cheeks with the bear’s ear. “It belonged to my son, Mateo.”

“Did he evacuate already?”

Gloria lifted her eyes. “I guess you could say that. He’s in Heaven.” She struggled to hold her emotions inside. Tanna had her own journey to motherhood today. She didn’t need to know the details of the birth of Gloria’s son.

Gloria rose from the chair, walked a few steps and climbed on a nearby box, stretching her arms as far as she could to tuck the bear on the top shelf of the narrow closet.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Tanna frowned and looked around the perfectly arranged room, so clearly at odds with a baby being gone for years. “I just came to tell you that Rigo says we have to go.”

Chapter Three

Rigo considered Gloria and Tanna one more rescue in a long line of them he’d be doing for another couple of hours. The 9-1-1 switchboard was overrun tonight with people who thought they’d throw bravado in the face of Hurricane Hope, then found her might thrown right back at them with wind-whipped fury. He got the two ladies dropped off safely at Tía Inez’s house and then got right back in his truck and out on the streets to do what he could.

He didn’t like that there were still people on the island, and he didn’t know how much longer they’d be able to rescue stranded citizens. At some point, those in charge would call off the rescues because they would start to endanger those conducting them.

But until that call was made, the Provident Island Beach Patrol team was on the front line. As seasoned lifeguards and water-rescue professionals, they were deferred to by even the high-ranking members of the police and sheriff’s departments at times like these.

Still, eight people couldn’t save the world.

But they’d keep trying until they were told to stop.

Conditions around the island were deteriorating rapidly. As he tried to decide where to head next, he looked in the distance to the lights on inside the Grand Provident Hotel, where city officials had set up their command center. As he watched, the lights flickered, blinked twice, then all went out, taking the streetlights and the rest of the electricity with them.

His radio popped once more with static. The command center would be running on generator power now, and like the radio’s reception, it was spotty. Rigo could barely make out the words. “Attention all units. The power grid is now down.” The whole island was now in darkness, just awaiting the full wrath of Hope. “You are mandated to take shelter.”

He’d been working the La Misión neighborhood, checking every home for people staying behind in the community where he’d grown up. Gloria and Inez were alone in a sea of water with a very pregnant woman in a house only four blocks behind him.

The command center, where he was expected to be as the storm blew in, was about twelve blocks ahead.

In his younger days, Rigo knew his reputation had been something of a hothead. And those hasty decisions had impacted Gloria’s life not once, but twice. Once when they were eighteen and he left her behind with a broken heart. And again, two years ago, when her life was shattered and he didn’t have the courage to face her.

Gloria didn’t know he’d changed, and no words he could say would convince her. Only actions and time could make up for the hurt he’d caused. He wasn’t going to leave Gloria to face one more uncertain night by herself.

Rigo knew he’d come back to follow the rules, not to hide anymore.

“This is Vasquez. I can’t make it back to the hotel.”

“10-4, Vasquez. Can you get to the shelter at the high school?” The voice on the radio went in and out as the weather conditions cut at the ties of electronic contact.

“No. I’ll take shelter at my aunt’s house in the La Misión neighborhood. I’m not far from there.”

“10-4. God keep you safe, Vasquez. Get here if you can.”

“Amen.” Rigo agreed out loud into the night and hoped that God could hear him over the howl and thrash all around.

The radio’s crackle went silent and Rigo knew this was it. The fury of nature had been building to an extreme all day, but it was now about to be unleashed in a way that Port Provident hadn’t seen since 1910.

Without streetlights, it was impossible to judge the depth or speed of the water. Rigo hadn’t been lying when he said he couldn’t make it to the Grand Provident. Conditions had been precarious for hours, but now it was definitely not safe to drive.

He pulled his truck into what was left of the closest driveway, climbed into the truck bed, and untied the small boat he carried. A flat-bottomed johnboat, it was convenient for search and rescue because the design meant he could maneuver easily in shallow water. He generally carried it everywhere in the bed of his work truck. He’d hauled it out a few times already tonight when he couldn’t reach someone begging for help. Water and waves slapped at him from the sky and the land and he struggled with the plastic boat in the fiercely whipping wind.

With a growl, he righted the boat on the surface of the water which now stood more than bottom-of-tailgate deep. He got himself inside, powered up the motor and set off in the direction of Tía Inez’s house.

Alone on the waterlogged streets, he had everything to lose.

And everything to prove.

* * *

“Gloria?” Tanna’s shrill voice came from the bedroom. “The contractions. They’re stronger.” Ever since Tanna’s water had broken, all of the telltale physical signs had followed quickly one after another. This baby was coming and it wasn’t waiting for a sunny day.

Tonight, Gloria and Tanna were going to face the greatest storm Port Provident had seen in more than a century and they were going to face the greatest force Tanna had ever known as she brought her baby into this crazy, rain-soaked world.

And they would do it with no power, no modern conveniences and no medical backup.

It would take every ounce of skill and training Gloria had. She knew this test would actually take more than that. It would take every word of prayer Gloria knew to utter.

Except she didn’t know how to utter many anymore.

Since the night she’d lost both Felipe and Mateo, she’d become convinced God had better things to do than to work in her life the way He used to. He’d taken everything and she hadn’t known what to say back to Him in reply.

They were pretty far apart these days, Gloria and God.

And now there stood the wrath and fury of the storm in the gap. There was no bridge that could cross that. She was alone with one pregnant woman and one elderly aunt who went to bed an hour ago saying she “always liked sleeping to the sound of the rain.”

Crazy lady.

Of course, Gloria wondered what was more crazy: Inez’s idea of ideal sleeping weather or Gloria’s idea that she could deliver this baby under these circumstances.

She felt pretty sure the answer was not Inez.

There must have been a lot of cries being lifted from the citizens of Port Provident tonight. Gloria didn’t think it mattered much, but the icy chill in the pit of her stomach and the howl of the wind outside came together and nudged her to add one more request from Port Provident to Heaven.

“Querido Dios, dear God, give us the strength we need to get through tonight.” She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “Please.”

She didn’t have anything more to add. Talking to God for basically the first time in two years was much like placing that call to Rigo earlier. Awkward. And just a reminder of the bad times, when she was all but abandoned by someone she thought would never leave her.

“I’m coming, Tanna. I’ll check you again. You may be getting closer to transition.” Gloria tried to master the fear inside as she walked down the hall. First-time labor brought enough uncertainty to a mama. Tanna at least deserved a midwife who sounded confident, even if the midwife was scared to death on the inside of the conditions all around.

Gloria paused and looked over the railing and down the stairs. On the level below, the water had risen to more than a foot deep. Gloria could no longer see the baseboards. Since the turn-of-the-century home stood on pilings that were about six feet high, plus the slope of the lawn down to the street, Gloria estimated the storm surge was easily already more than ten feet deep outside.

She rummaged through the boxes that had been stowed earlier at the open area at the top of the stairs, both for easy access and the hope they’d remain high and dry. Inez had packed a box with food and some supplies like batteries and candles, and there also was a smaller box. Inez said Rigo had packed it with things like a hammer and a small plastic sheet that could be used like a tarp.

Shortly after arriving at the house, Gloria had pulled together another box with sheets, blankets, a coil of twine, extra scissors and some bottled water, just in case she needed to use it. And she’d also placed her box of midwifery supplies alongside these critical supplies.

As she grabbed a sheet and a new pair of disposable gloves, something crashed into the front door with a thud.

Her breath came short. Surely someone wasn’t trying to break in on a night like this. Was it debris? The thud hit again and rattled the doorknob, then the front door swung partway open. The sky behind it glowed strangely red and a familiar figure stood silhouetted in the frame, water lapping almost to his knees as he stood a step or two down on the stairs at the front door.

“Rigo?” She’d never been more thankful to see him. Not when she was madly in love with him as a teenager. Not even when he showed up at the seedy apartment complex to help get Tanna to safety. The world seemed to be collapsing all around her, but at least she wouldn’t be alone as Tanna’s labor progressed. His presence was better than nothing.

Maybe a lot better than nothing. But she didn’t want to admit that quite yet, not even to herself.

“The power’s out completely now. I couldn’t make it up to the command center at the Grand Provident. The streets are like rivers. I barely made it back here. Is Tanna okay?”

At that moment, Tanna let out a low moan. The guttural noise told Gloria’s trained ears that Tanna was moving toward the next phase of labor, the one where instinct and the body took over and left the thinking, controlling mind behind.

“Yes, she’s been having steady contractions since we got settled and things seem to be picking up. I was just gathering what I needed to check her again.”

Gloria needed to get to Tanna but stood rooted, drinking in the sight of Rigo’s silhouette, dark with untold layers of rain, framed by crimson in the sky behind.

“Rigo?”

“Yes?”

“Why is the sky red? Is that normal?”

“It is if a marina is on fire.” He kicked the door shut with his foot and began to cross the room toward the kitchen as he answered. “Although I’ve been told the sky’s color in hurricanes can range from midnight blue to teal and even shades like pink.”

“The marina is on fire?”

“Yes. The whole thing. The fire department can’t get to it, so they’re just letting it burn. It will be a complete loss.”

She rolled her eyes in disbelief. More destruction, in ways she never imagined. “My sister Gracie’s sister-in-law has a really nice boat down there.”

“I’m sorry, Gloria. I’m afraid that boat is gone. They’re not expecting anything to be left. One of my guys talked to an assistant fire chief about an hour and a half ago and told me.” She needed to stop thinking about the way looking at his silhouette in the fire glow a few minutes ago had made something inside of her spark. She had to remind herself that at age eighteen she’d promised herself she was never going to take notice of him again.

“I’m coming up,” Rigo said. “Is there anything you need?”

Gloria shook her head, not trusting herself to answer with words.

As Rigo waded across the entry and placed his shoe on the first soaked stair, a crackle sounded behind her. She turned around to see water shoot from the nonfunctioning electrical outlets like the jets on a Jacuzzi tub.

“Rigo! The house!” Gloria screamed, terrified she was about to find herself in the same situation as the doomed marina.

“Gloria. I need your help down here.” In that instant, Rigo transformed from civilian to peace officer. There was no questioning or disobeying the tone in his voice. “It’s the pressure. It’s building up in the walls. Those holes are the best way for the water to relieve the pressure.”

“Gloria? Gloria? What’s going on?” Tanna shouted from the bedroom.

“It’s just the water, Tanna.” Gloria couldn’t believe that she had the ability to sound calm. Her throat was full of fear and her veins coursed with adrenaline. “Rigo’s here. We’re coming. Just move into whatever position makes you the most comfortable.”

Gloria skittishly made her way down the stairs, afraid of the fizz of the outlets and the red of the marina fire and the ice in her heart and her stomach and the tips of her fingers.

Rigo grabbed Gloria’s hand as she made it to the bottom of the stairs. Even though he was leading her into who knows what kind of chaos, she felt better just having his hand wrapped around hers. She could feel a callus at the base of his ring finger and vaguely wondered what had caused it. It hadn’t been there before.

Time had changed them all. In ways both big and small.

“Where are we going?”

“My boat. I tied it up on the porch. But I need your help to get it inside. I can’t do it by myself. Things are getting very crazy, very fast. Look at those outlets—you can see what’s happening to the world around us.”

She cocked her head in disbelief. “You want a boat inside the house? You’re crazy.”

He turned and looked straight at her. “Maybe. But that boat may be all we have in a few hours—I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I have a pretty good idea, though, and I can’t afford to lose the boat. It’s small enough that it fits in the bed of my truck and light enough that I can maneuver it myself. If we can get it on its side, it will go through the door. The trolling motor just clamps on. I can unscrew it. I just need you to hold the door and help me guide it through.”

Water pushed in waves, as the Gulf of Mexico had literally come to their door. It was rising more quickly now. Hurricane Hope was being anything but ladylike. She was making her force known.

Rigo untied the rope mooring the small craft to the banister near what had been the front steps. He guided the boat to the door and braced it against the frame, then turned himself, grabbed the edge and heaved the boat onto its side, using the frame of the door for counter leverage.

Gloria had never seen so much strength used at one time. He was probably right that he could easily move the boat to where he needed on an average day. But in these conditions with the water rising and the wind whipping, the strength he needed to pull off the feat she had just witnessed had to be nothing short of superhuman.

Was that God answering her earlier prayer for strength for them all tonight?

Had He really heard her over the howls of the wind and the cries all across the town? Was He really there?

* * *

Gloria ran up the stairs as fast as she could. Rigo stayed behind to tie the boat to the banister inside the foyer and move everything back from the small entryway so the vessel wouldn’t flop into it and cause more damage. Gloria wasn’t sure it mattered. Everything on the first floor of Tía Inez’s house was going to be a total loss, anyway. At the rate Hurricane Hope was growing, Gloria wondered if even the ceiling down there would be safe.

She wondered if any of them would be safe. Or would this be the time the house that made it through the Great Storm of 1910 met its match?

Entering the bedroom, Gloria found Tanna lying on the bed, propped up with some pillows. The room had a warm glow from the candles Inez had lit earlier, and the soft light brought Gloria’s blood pressure down several notches. It wasn’t the birthing center by a long stretch, but as long as there were no complications, everything should work out. She didn’t need to let the panic and what-ifs take over. That wouldn’t do anyone any good.

Inez had apparently woken up. She sat next to the laboring mother, holding her hand.

“Just breathe, niña, breathe.” The calm in the older woman’s voice contrasted sharply with the chaos Gloria had just witnessed below and could still hear from outside.

Inez looked up at Gloria and smiled. “It’s okay. I’ve done this six times before.”

Rigo’s voice came from the doorway. “Six times? I thought you only had five kids, Tía.”

She smiled. “Five kids. Six hurricanes, nephew.” Stroking Tanna’s hand rhythmically, she continued. “Birth and hurricanes are a lot alike. They’re intense and sometimes unpredictable. But they only last for a few hours, and after it’s over, the sun comes out again.”

Tanna moaned and rolled a bit from side to side.

“But you’re so calm, Inez. You even took a nap! I couldn’t sleep if my life depended upon it.” Gloria wished she could have looked out a window, but everything was boarded up.

“Go ahead. Hold my hand. It’s okay.” Inez rubbed Tanna’s back while the young woman grunted through a contraction, a sheen of perspiration bubbling up just below the line of thick, dark hair at the top of her forehead. “Well, it’s what Jesus did. It’s never a bad thing to follow his example.”

“‘Put your hand in the hand of the man who stilled the waters,’ hmm, Tía?” Rigo sang the line of the children’s song but stayed put in the doorway, clearly wanting to be near the light and the company, without coming too close to the action.

“Rodrigo Vasquez.” Inez’s calm voice was replaced with a snap of reprimand for her nephew’s mocking tone. “One of these days, you’ll learn. Every Sunday morning I go to church, and there’s a reason why. I didn’t make it to this age all on my own. And neither will you.”

Gloria would never admit to Rigo’s aunt—or her own family, for that matter—but lately, she found herself more aligned with doubt than the confident faith she saw mirrored around her. She’d known Inez for years. The older woman, as far as Gloria could tell, lived a fairly uneventful life. She always saw her at church and on the occasional trip to the grocery store, and she knew that Inez spent a lot of time with the ladies of the women’s Bible study group Gloria’s own mother attended. A lot of tamale making, knitting and chatting over slices of flan.

If she lived Inez’s life, it would probably bore her to sleep. Even in the midst of a hurricane.

But thankfully, a midwife’s life was far from dull. Babies were never predictable about when they were going to be born. Sometimes they decided to stay and bake for days after their due dates. Sometimes they decided to come in the middle of the night. Sometimes babies decided to come one right after the other and make their midwife sleep deprived.

And sometimes, they decided to come in the middle of a natural disaster.

“Rigo, would you mind stepping out for a minute? I need to check Tanna. I think we’re getting close.”

She turned to her patient. “Unless there’s an emergency, Tanna, I’m going to follow your lead. You do what’s most comfortable for you and I’ll let nature take its course.” As she bent over and did a quick check of Tanna’s progress, Gloria laughed a little.

“Hmm?” Tanna shifted her weight as Gloria stepped back from the bed.

“I was just thinking,” Gloria said. “I’m perfectly comfortable letting Mother Nature take her course with your birth, but to the core of my being, I wish she’d quit taking her course with this storm outside. I just want it to be over. The good news is you’ve progressed more quickly than I expected you to, so Mother Nature will be through with you shortly, in all likelihood. You can push whenever you feel ready, Tanna. I won’t hold you back.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Tanna breathed low and slow through a contraction, then looked up when it passed. “I guess I don’t get my water birth, after all?”

Tanna had wanted to use the deep-water birth tub at the birthing center since her first appointment. “I’m afraid not in that way. We’re surrounded by a totally different type of water, but as for us, Inez filled the upstairs bathtub earlier today and it’s only for drinking and emergencies.”

“Peace.” Inez wiped Tanna’s head with a wet washcloth. “Breathe deeply and think of peace.”

The next contraction started. Tanna bore down, gripping Inez’s bony hand, but Rigo’s aunt never flinched. Gloria was amazed at her strength and her demeanor. She wondered if she could bring Inez to attend all her births.

Tanna made instinctive reaching motions with her hand. The birthing waves were taking over, bringing her closer to motherhood.

Rigo stood just outside the doorway, and Gloria called to him. “Rigo. Grab her hand. She needs something to push against.”

The man, who’d stared down criminals in the line of fire and who’d already saved grown adults and children alike from the clutches of near drowning tonight, hesitated. In addition to being a certified peace officer, she knew he had to be a certified EMT for his job at the beach. Surely he’d had some training for this. Gloria looked up from where she’d been focusing, monitoring the baby’s progress. “Go on. She needs you. Just stand back by her head. You’re not going to see anything from there.”

Gloria hastily threw a towel over Tanna’s knees and belly to preserve her modesty. Rigo stood by the headboard and looked toward the doorway, but reached out his hand and provided more than enough support to give Tanna the leverage she needed.

She’d prayed for strength for everyone earlier tonight, and this was the second time she was seeing it in action. Tanna’s focus amazed Gloria, even as the world ran out of control and the wind battered the house, causing it to sway gently on the pilings. She’d attended more than a thousand births in her career, and thought she’d worked in every kind of condition possible—highly advanced labor-and-delivery suites, standing by in cesarian sections, working the past two years at an independent out-of-hospital birthing center at the edge of Provident Medical Center’s footprint. She’d even been present for a few planned home births.

But until today, she’d never supervised a birth in a candlelit room with not even the most basic of equipment or running water—she’d never been crazy enough to rationally consider such a thing. Tanna, the young nineteen-year-old who, nine months ago, Gloria had initially judged as a good candidate to ask middelivery for a transfer to a hospital to get an epidural, was showing strength through adversity tonight.

With one last forceful push and a punctuating explosion of breath, another refugee from the hurricane’s fury shot into the world. Gloria picked up another towel from her box of supplies with one hand as she held the little squealing baby with the other.

It was a triumphant moment, made all the more incredible not just because of the amazing nature of birth, but because of how amazing it was to have this birth in the middle of this particular storm.

The hurricane may have been merely named Hope, but as Gloria lifted the mewling baby and handed it to the euphoric, exhausted mother on the bed, she knew she was holding in her arms literal hope in the form of brand-new life.

“Congratulations, Tanna. It’s a boy! And a strong one, too. Do you want to cut the cord?”

Tanna shook her head, unable to tear her gaze from the tiny stranger that she already knew so well. “No. I couldn’t have done this without you and Rigo. I’d be alone in that awful apartment if you hadn’t come to check on me, and who knows what would have happened if Rigo wasn’t there to protect us.”

Gloria met Rigo’s eyes and felt something chip at the heavy cement that had poured in her heart hours before when he walked back into her life. Tanna saw Rigo as a hero. And maybe she was right.

She handed Rigo the scissors she’d found in a downstairs drawer upon their arrival. She’d sanitized them in some boiling water before they’d lost all the utilities. They were just common household scissors, but they’d have to do. She had one plastic cord clamp in her box of tools but couldn’t find another at the bottom of the box with the dim half-light. Instead, she tied a length of twine tightly, using it as a makeshift clamp. “Do you want to do the honors?”

It felt so strange to be standing over a baby, sharing in a cord-cutting ceremony with Rigo. All those foolish teenage dreams and plans she’d once had for the future popped in her mind like kernels of corn.

“Sure. Wow.” Rigo took the scissors, and with one steady press, snipped the baby’s last physical tie with Tanna. Rigo stared at the little infant as though he was seeing one for the first time. “I’ve never done that before.”

“Not even with any of your training?” Gloria took the baby and towel-dried him. His hair stuck up in ten different directions.

“No. I don’t think I’ve really done much past treating things like puncture wounds and doing CPR and chest compressions. That’s most of what you see on the street and on the beach. Not a lot of babies being born in the sand dunes.”

He intently watched every move Gloria made. “What are you doing with that? That’s my sock.”

His curiosity was so intense it made Gloria chuckle, a welcome feeling. This day needed some comic relief. It was now almost one in the morning. Today had been too long and too life-changing.

“I don’t have a hat. An old tube sock seemed like the next best thing to keep his head warm. Is this one of your favorites?”

Rigo shook his head. “Not anymore.”

Inez slid off the bed and walked out to the hallway. “I’ll find something for her to eat in that box I packed. There’s some peanut butter and a bottle of coconut water. We need to keep her strength up and the coconut water is full of electrolytes.”

Gloria finished bundling the baby tightly in a blanket. It seemed to have once had Winnie the Pooh scenes all over it, and had probably belonged to one of Inez’s children or grandchildren. Now it was soft and faded from wear and love. The baby settled and made a smacking sound.

“Here, Rigo, hold him while I check Tanna quickly.” Rigo held his arms out. “Not like that. He won’t bite. He doesn’t have teeth. Haven’t you ever held a baby before?”

“Well, no. Not really.” Rigo’s eyebrows raised slightly in a position that seemed to say, What did you expect? without uttering a single word.

“Bend your arms. Here, like mine. You need to cradle him. He’s completely floppy. You have to support his head.”

Gingerly, she laid the baby in Rigo’s arms. It felt strangely powerful.

In just a few minutes, all the stages of labor were completely finished, and Gloria wanted to give Tanna the chance to rest and cuddle with her baby.

Gloria tried to keep the visual of Rigo holding the baby from being burned in her mind. Tanna wasn’t the only one who needed rest. So did Gloria’s swirling mind.

“Rigo, you can hand the little man back to his mama. Tanna, why don’t you start to try and feed him? I’m sure he’ll appreciate the comfort and it’s important to start a good nursing relationship early.”

Inez came back in, peanut butter jar in one hand, a sleeve of crackers in the other and a bottle of coconut water tucked under an arm. This had undoubtedly been the most unconventional birth Gloria had ever attended, but she wasn’t sure she could have asked for a better crew to share it with.

“I’ll help her with that, Gloria, while you clean up. I’ve got some experience with this.” Inez placed the food on the bedside table and got Tanna set up with pillows tucked securely behind her. “You can hand the baby to me, Rigo.”

Slowly, Rigo moved toward his aunt.

“Something wrong?” Gloria looked up and caught Inez studying her nephew’s face. It was as blank as the wall behind the bed.

He continued to stare at the baby, almost tracing the little smacking lips with his gaze.

“No,” he said quietly and flicked a split-second glance at Gloria. “Not at all.” He laid the baby in Tanna’s open arms. She cuddled the little bundle tightly against her chest.

Rigo backed up and headed toward the door, then turned back to the bed. “Tanna, do you have a name for him?”

The baby squirmed, drinking in his mother’s scent.

“No, not really.” She tore her gaze away from the tiny face in her arms for just a second. “Gloria, earlier when we were at your house, what did you say your baby’s name was?”

Sadness pierced Gloria’s heart. She needed that strength she’d prayed for. And she needed it now.

“Mateo,” she said, her tongue stumbling over every syllable. “His name was Mateo.”

A smile crossed Tanna’s face. “I like it. Mateo Rodrigo, for you both.”

White-hot shock pierced her heart. Tanna didn’t know their history. She just thought she was doing them a great honor.

Gloria prayed for the second time today. For the second time in the past two years.

Oh, please, God, don’t let me fall.

Chapter Four

As the immediacy of the birth wore off, Rigo had time to notice the demeanor of everyone around him. There wasn’t really much else to do besides sit and wait. The baby was peaceful. Tanna was euphoric, brushing the baby’s downy hair with the tips of her fingers, over and over again. Tía Inez was in her element, delivering advice and suggestions.

Gloria seemed reflective, quietly tidying things up as best she could, keeping the makeshift birthing center comfortable by relighting the candles when they burned low and writing down details of the birth.

As he’d watched Gloria at work earlier, he’d found himself unable to take his eyes off her. He’d pursued his career in law enforcement and rescue because he liked the thrill, the chase. The constant of never knowing what would come next—and the adrenaline buzz that came along with it.

Gloria was different, though. She had directed Tanna’s birth without lights, without equipment, without conveniences, in a manner that connected strongly to birthing women throughout the ages before hospitals and delivery rooms. In spite of the uncertainty, he never saw fear when Gloria was in that room. She had to have been scared by the hurricane—he knew he was—but even so, he only saw the actions of a woman who was uniquely called to do that very career. Not because she chose it. Because it chose her.

The stubbornness he used to chide her for. The single-minded focus he used to try and break through his teasing. The drive to accomplish exactly the path set in front of her. It was all still there, more than a decade later.

So, too, were the things he’d been attracted to as a teenager. The soft glow that caused her topaz eyes to glitter when she got truly excited about something. The fierce protectiveness that took complete care of and responsibility for anyone in her inner circle. And the petite frame that made her look like a tiny, sweet package, like a dulce de leche candy you could tuck in your pocket and carry with you. Looking at Gloria, people might first disregard her—until they later learned they did so at their own peril.

He’d figured she’d changed over the years, like everyone did, although he hadn’t been close enough in a long time to know for sure.

But now back, face-to-face with the woman who appeared in all of his best memories—and at the center of his worst—Rigo saw nothing had changed.

She was a truly unique mixture of dewdrop soft and hurricane fierce.

The wind seemed to be slowing outside. Rigo left the room and sat at the top of Inez’s staircase, watching the water level bob and shake around the steps below. Swarms of bugs floated on top in little clumps. He checked his watch. It was 2:00 a.m.

Rigo’s ears noticed a change outside. He clicked the switch on the old weather radio he’d brought out of the room with him, hoping it would spring to life and confirm what he thought was about to happen.

“The National Weather Service is reporting that the eye of Hurricane Hope will make landfall soon. Citizens of Port Provident are still encouraged to exercise extreme caution during this time.”

Rigo shut off the radio. He’d heard exactly what he needed to hear.

“Gloria,” he shouted. “Gather up what you need. Everyone needs to put on their sturdiest shoes, quickly. The eye of the storm is almost here. While it’s calm, we’re going to move as fast as we can and take Tanna and the baby to the command center at the Grand Provident Hotel. It’s the safest place on the island for them. For all of us.”

From the bedroom, he heard his aunt’s steady voice. “I told you He’d calm the storm.”

Rigo didn’t want to point out that every hurricane had an eye. It would have been disrespectful to suggest such a thing out loud. Besides, he didn’t have any time to waste.

Wading through the chest-deep water in the front of the house, Rigo tried not to think about the possibility of rats or snakes taking refuge in the living room. He’d already seen the bugs, small armies that had hitched themselves together to float in baseball-sized groups. That was enough. He reached blindly below the surface of the water, trying to grab the doorknobs to the double doors and force them open. The water level was the same outside as inside. Dormer windows and the angles and points of roofs were all that he could see on the smaller one-story craftsman-style homes and cottages. Everything looked like children’s toys in a very dirty bathtub.

“Is everyone ready? We’ve got to go.”

At the top of the stairs, Rigo could make out three dim shadows. Inez stood in front, with Gloria providing a steadying hand behind the older woman’s elbow. “Tanna, stay here. I’ll come back to help you and the baby,” Gloria said.

Rigo stood on the bottom stair and tried to hold the small johnboat steady where it floated, tethered to the banister.

“Gloria, reach out and hold the boat. I’ll come up and lift Tía in.”

He switched places with Gloria. Even though she stood two steps up from where Rigo had been, the water came almost to her chin. But she kept a steady grip on the lip of the boat, pushing it up against a wall for steadiness. Rigo lifted Inez and slowly turned on the step, careful not to slip and fall. He sat her gently on the small platform in the front.

“Ok, Tía, can you make it to that second little bench? Just hold on tight. Crawl if you need to.”

Inez nodded her head and began to inch, crab-like, toward the back of the little craft. “I can do it.”

“Stay there, Gloria. I’ll get Tanna.” Rigo walked to the top of the stairs, water rolling down his back. He’d spent most of his life in the water, surfing and lifeguarding, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever been as thoroughly soaked as he was right now.

Carefully, he picked up the dozing bundle from Tanna’s arms. Her eyes widened with fear—not only for herself, but for her new child. “I’m going to hand him to Tía,” he said.

Step by step, he made it down the slick wooden stairs. “Hola, Mateo,” he whispered. “It’s okay. You’re going to be safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

It scared Rigo to think about the five of them floating in the small boat through what had been the streets of Port Provident, especially if the eye was narrow and closed soon. But he was even more scared to keep a newborn and its mother in a flooded, bug-infested house with half a hurricane still left to go.

As he stretched to meet Tía’s open arms with their most precious cargo, Rigo silently prayed for a wide eye that would give them the time they needed. Little Mateo was on board. Time to get Tanna.

Her feet were unsteady. Placing an arm under her knees and one under her arms, Rigo scooped her up and made his way down the stairs again. Resting her on the front platform, he tried to scoot her as far in as possible. He held her hand as she wobbled toward the seat next to Tía, then took her baby back in her arms.

Only one more passenger to get aboard and then they could leave.

“Let me help you, Gloria.” The boat started to bob once she lifted her hand off the hull.

Rigo put his hands around Gloria’s waist tightly. He remembered picking her up and swinging her around during summers at the beach. There wasn’t anything else similar to those days right now, except confirmation of his earlier train of thought.

In more ways than one, Gloria hadn’t changed a bit.

On the other hand, he sure hoped he had.

He’d been to places he wasn’t proud of and done plenty of things he’d regretted, and one day, he knew he’d need to come clean to Gloria if there was any hope of putting things right between them. But for now, he’d do the next best thing and keep her—and those who depended upon her—safe.

Gloria settled on the small bench seat next to Tanna. Rigo untied the boat from the railing, turned it around and swam behind, pushing it through the oversize frame of the turn-of-the-century door. The edges of the boat brushed the edges of the door. It barely fit, with only a feather’s width to spare.

“Everyone duck.” The women in the boat bent their heads low. Their bodies cleared the top of the door frame by just about a foot.

Tying the boat hastily to the railing of the porch, Rigo climbed up on the rail, then worked his way into the boat, untying it once he was safely inside. He sat in the back next to the trolling motor and fired it up. He was soaked to the bone with sticky, salty brackish water.

“Everyone ready?”

No one replied. The only affirmation was the nodding of heads. Everyone indicated they were ready, but like Rigo, he imagined none of them knew exactly what for.

The sky on the horizon line glowed teal, almost as crisp and shining as the water off the Baja Peninsula on Mexico’s Pacific Coast, where he’d once loved to surf. He’d never seen colors like that in the air before. Above him, he could see stars. A few seagulls squawked and circled overhead, likely as disoriented as he was.

“The eye of the storm. Not many people on earth can say they’ve seen this,” he said to the passengers.

Gloria looked up at the sky, her face showing amazement in the soft moonlight and turquoise glow. Tanna kept her head down, looking at baby Mateo.

They headed south toward the Grand Provident Hotel, where Rigo hoped there would be power from backup generators, some drinking water and a plan.

Inez’s hands were folded serenely in her lap. She didn’t intently stare like Gloria, nor was she avoiding the view like Tanna. She seemed calm, almost like this was an everyday occurrence for her. A gust of wind touched the back of Rigo’s soaked shirt giving him a chill, and he could see Gloria’s short hair ruffling with the breeze.

This respite from the chaos wouldn’t last much longer. They needed something stronger than just himself to get them all to the Grand Provident, but even after Inez’s words to them all earlier, he knew he couldn’t do what his heart was telling him to do. Not in front of Gloria. He didn’t know exactly why. He’d started attending the earliest services at La Iglesia de la Luz del Mundo—that service chosen specifically because he knew Gloria attended the later service, and he hadn’t wanted to cause a scene or be in her way.

“Hey, Tía, I think you’d better pray.”

“I have been all night.” She smiled a knowing smile. “Haven’t you noticed He’s been here?”

Rigo’s hand slipped a bit off the motor’s handle. He hadn’t quite thought of it that way. Mateo broke the night’s temporary stillness with a little wail, a further reminder that he had come into the world with a healthy set of lungs.

Even though he had to navigate through the help of street signs just barely poking their green metal rectangles above the waterline, the trip was relatively uneventful and took less time than Rigo had planned.

They motored up to the parking lot behind the hotel. Rigo hopped overboard and waded to a palm tree, where he tied the boat. He saw others with flashlights standing on the wall surrounding the pool area of the hotel, presumably also watching the once-in-a-lifetime experience of standing inside a hurricane’s eye wall. He waved his own flashlight in signal to the group above. Two men threw their legs over the wall and started down the side of the waterlogged hill to come help.

Maybe Tía Inez was right. Maybe—just maybe—Rigo observed, God really had been with them all night.

* * *

A few emergency doctors from Provident Medical Center had assembled a small clinic inside of one of the meeting rooms in the hotel. They quickly escorted Tanna and the baby up. One doctor insisted on checking Tía Inez out, as well. Gloria handed over her notes from the birth, relieved to have other medical professionals confirm that both baby and mother—and aunt—had checked out fine. Assured that the two women and youngest refugee would be taken care of and transported to a hospital on the mainland for observation as soon as the storm cleared, Gloria let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d even been holding.

The past several hours had all run together. All of her training had kicked in and she’d just done what she needed to do. But now the immediate danger was no longer resting squarely on her shoulders and they were safe, surrounded by local officials, police and doctors in the safest building in town and she could release that burden. Gloria tried, but she couldn’t even feel relief. All she felt was tired.

Inez reached toward Gloria from the couch she had been instructed to lie on. “Gloria, come here.”

Gloria slipped her hand into the older woman’s thin grasp. Her hand felt cold. So much time spent in wind and rain. Gloria wondered if any of them would ever be dry or warm again. Or safe. Would the memories of tonight mark them all forever?

“How are you feeling, Inez?”

“Like a drowned rat.” The older woman shuddered, making her gray hair shake. “I think I saw a few on the boat ride over here, too. Yuck. But they’re bringing me some dry clothes. That should help. I think they’re bringing some for you, too.”

Gloria wondered what kind of dry clothes they had in a hurricane command center. Probably not anything that would show up on a catwalk—in Paris, France, or Paris, Texas. “I’m glad you’re okay, Inez.”

Inez smiled. The deep lines around her face stretched out, and Gloria could see the neighborhood beauty she used to be. “You don’t have to be afraid to be around Rigo, you know.”

“I’m not afraid of him.” Gloria tried not to snap. Just because she didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary around him didn’t mean she was afraid of him.

“You’re afraid of something. You know, God doesn’t give you a spirit of fear. He gives strength to His people.”

The corner of Gloria’s mouth twisted downward. She didn’t want to talk about God and she didn’t want to speak badly about the woman’s favorite nephew, but Inez had to know the history. Everyone in the La Misión neighborhood knew the story behind Gloria and Rigo, from high school until after Felipe’s death.

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