“I tried to get to thirty-six weeks. I tried, but—”

“Hey.” Taking her hand, he waited until her teary eyes met his. “You’re right on the edge of thirty-five. Damn good job. Give me two minutes, all right? Don’t push, Katie. Breathe through it if you have another before I get back. Don’t push.”

“Hurry. Please.”

“Promise.”

He stepped out, then ran.

He didn’t know this wing, had only been in it a handful of times, and only as far as the desk. He tried to take heart when he saw three infants behind the glass in their nursery cribs. Somebody had to be on the floor. Somebody had to be caring for the babies.

He hit a pair of double doors, stepped into an OR. A doctor—he hoped—gowned, gloved, holding a scalpel. A nurse, and a pregnant woman on the table, eyes closed.

“I’ve got a woman in labor with twins. I—”

“And I’m trying to save the life of this woman and fetus. Get out!”

“I need— She needs a doctor.”

“I said get out! I’m it. I’m what’s left, and I’m fucking busy here. Nurse!”

“Go!” She ordered as the doctor made the incision.

“Page Dr. Hopman. Just do that. Page her.”

Jonah rushed out, grabbed two warming trays, pushed them back to the room where Katie panted through a contraction.

“Keep breathing, keep breathing. I’m going to set these up so they’ll be ready.”

“Doctor,” she managed.

He turned on the trays, shed his coat, rolled up his sleeves. “It’s going to be you, me, and the twins. We’re going to be fine.”

“Oh God. Oh God. Have you ever delivered a baby?”

“Yeah, a few times.”

“Would you say that even if you hadn’t?”

“No. I’ve even delivered a preemie. It’s my first multiple, but hey, if you can do one, you can do two. I’m going to wash my hands, get gloved. Then we’ll see where we’re at, okay?”

“I’m out of choices.” She stared up at the ceiling, as she’d done when her mother had been dying. “If it goes wrong for me, promise me you’ll take care of them. You’ll take care of my babies.”

“It’s not going to go wrong, and I’m going to take care of them. And you. Solemn oath.” He crossed his heart, stepped into the bath to scrub his hands.

“What are you naming them?” he called out.

“The girl’s Antonia. My husband … he wanted a girl especially. Before we knew we were having twins, he hoped for a girl. The boy’s Duncan for my father’s father.”

“Nice. Good, strong names.” He pulled on gloves, took one deep, long breath. “One of each, huh? Best of the best.”

“He died here. My Tony. My parents, too, and my brother. Four people I loved died in this hospital, but I didn’t know where else to go.”

“I’m sorry. But your babies aren’t going to die, and neither are you. Ah, I gotta get your underwear off, and take a look at things.”

“Modesty isn’t anywhere on my list.”

He rolled the panties away. “I need you to scoot up a little.”

“‘Scoot,’ my ass.”

“Yeah, it’s your ass I need you to scoot.”

He smiled when she laughed. “Funny guy.”

“You should hear my full stand-up routine. I gotta get personal, and I know it’s uncomfortable. Breathe through.”

He inserted fingers to measure her while she blew at the ceiling.

“You’re fully dilated, Katie. I’ll apologize to Antonia when she gets here. I poked her head.”

“Duncan. He’s first. His head?”

“Yeah.” And thank God it was his head, not his ass.

“One’s coming.”

“Ride it out. You’re really close. You—there she blows. Water broke.”

“It hurts. Oh, Christ Jesus, Mother of Mary, it hurts!”

“I know.”

“What do you know? You’re a man.” She turned her head, closed her eyes, let out a long, cleansing breath. “We were going to have Adele playing during delivery. And Tony and I were going to have both our moms in with us. His mom’s dead now, and his father. My brother, Tony’s brother and sister. The babies only have me.”

“Duncan’s crowning, Katie. I can see his head. He’s got hair! It’s dark. Do you want the mirror?”

She let out a sob, covered her eyes, and held up a hand for him to wait. “I loved him, so much. Tony. My parents, my brother, his family. My family. They’re all gone. The babies. The babies are all I have left of my family. I’m all they’ll have.” She wiped her eyes. “I want the mirror, please. I want to see them born.”

He adjusted it until she nodded. Coached her through the next contractions, then through the pushing.

She didn’t speak of loss again, but bore down like a warrior in battle.

Duncan, with his dark hair and waving fists, came into the world yelling. His mother laughed, held out her arms.

“He’s got good color, and damn good lungs.” Jonah wiped off the down, laid the baby in Katie’s arms. “I’m clamping off the cord.”

“He’s beautiful. He’s perfect. Is he perfect? Please.”

“We’re going to weigh him and get him in the warming tray. He sure looks perfect.”

“He … He’s going for the breast!”

“Well, he’s a guy.”

“The books say, especially with preemies … He’s latched right on! He’s hungry. And— Oh God, she’s coming. She’s coming.”

“Antonia doesn’t want to get left behind. Let me put him in the tray.”

“No, no. I’ve got him. He’s hungry. I need to push!”

“Okay, a good one now. You can do better.”

“I’m trying!”

“Okay, hold it. Relax, relax, breathe. I’m going to need one more. One good, strong one. She’s ready. Look at the mirror, Katie. Push her out.”

She sucked in her breath, let it out in a low, keening wail. Jonah cupped the head, turned the shoulders, and Antonia slipped into his hands.

“There she is.”

“She’s not crying, she’s not crying. What’s wrong?”

“Give her a second.” Jonah cleared out the baby’s nose, mouth, rubbed the tiny chest. “Come on, Antonia. We know you’re no crybaby, but your mom wants to hear from you. She’s just taking her time. She’s fine. The light’s in her, not the dark. I see life, not death.”

“What—”

“And there.” Jonah grinned as the baby let out a high wail, an insulted, annoyed little sound. “She’s pinking right up. Just wanted to take stock first, that’s all. She’s a beauty, Mom.”

Katie cuddled her. “Look at her sweet little head.”

“Yeah, her brother hogged all the hair. Give her some time, she’ll outdo him there. Cutting the cords. If he’s finished his snack, I want to clean him up, weigh him, check a couple of things. You’ve got another round with the placenta.”

“It’s got to be easier than delivering twins.”

Jonah took Duncan, carefully cleaned him, checked his heart rate and reflexes, weighed him. “He comes in at six pounds, two ounces. That’s a solid weight, even for a full-term single. Good job, Katie.”

“She’s watching me. I know that’s probably not true, but it’s like she’s looking at me. Like she knows me.”

“Sure she does.” Staring at the baby in his hands, Jonah felt … triumph, and a quiet, steady love.

“I want to put Duncan in the warmer for a bit. I need your girl, too. I’m going to hunt you up something cold to drink,” he told Katie as he cleaned Antonia. “Some food if I can find it. And your girl weighs in at five pounds, ten ounces. Good for her.”

“Contraction.”

“Okay, let’s get it all out. Nice and clean. Got a pail here. Just shove it out, champ.”