Page 14 of Her Tempting Protector

4

“Your Mama is going to be fine, Sweets.” Carys looked into the two sets of big brown eyes.

Please God, say I’m not lying.

Another ear-splitting scream pierced the walls of the tin shack, and Carys’ focus switched back to the woman she was ministering to. She saw the agony on her patient’s face, as the cords of her neck stood out, and she screamed again.

“Faizah!” Carys looked over at the nurse who currently had her hands full with a sick, screaming toddler. The child was probably two, but so malnourished he or she looked to be a year old.

“Daughter,” the woman gasped when the pain of the contraction subsided.

Carys had one hand on the woman’s forehead and the other hand on her taut belly as she gasped out a breath to talk to her eldest child. She needed to be focused on giving birth, not worried about her other children.

Carys whipped her head back to look at the two little girls who looked to be under the age of seven, but who really knew? One girl was clearly the eldest. “I need your help. You must go and get more water. You must also go to your neighbor’s and get milk.”

“But—” the girl protested in Arabic.

“Now,” Faizah said. “Go fast.”

The toddler was throwing up. At least the other two didn’t look sick, but they did look like they’d been abused. So did the mother; her face was a mass of bruising. The eldest girl grabbed her younger sister’s spindly arms and pulled in the makeshift door that was barely hanging by one hinge.

Carys cursed the old man who hardly stopped the car long enough for her and Faizah to disembark. Heck, she’d been lucky to pull out her bags.

The old fart! What was his problem?

As soon as the girls were out of the shack, Carys pulled up the blanket covering the woman so that she could assess her progress.

“What’s your name?” she asked gently.

“Shada,” she breathed out.

“Okay, Shada, my name is Carys. I’m a doctor. I’m here to help. Do you know how long you’ve been in labor?”

“Since yesterday morning.”

Over thirty hours, and not enough progress to show for it.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Faizah had started to boil water and had the medical bag open. Somehow, she was doing all this while holding a baby who was sick and in pain. God love the woman.

The situation was bleak. After a woman was dilated like Shada was, the risk was higher for the mother to hemorrhage. That is to say, hemorrhage even more than Shada currently had.

“Faizah, I’m going to need you helping me. Have you assisted on a caesarean before?”

“Yes,” was her succinct reply.

The nurse’s eyes met hers. She knew the outcome was not good. She tucked the child underneath her arm. “Tell me what to do, and I will do it.”

It was time to give the mother-to-be some hope. Because there needed to be hope in this room tonight. They needed to believe that things would work out.

“Shada, I’m from the United States. I have delivered hundreds of babies in my life.”

“You have?” she panted out. Her doubt was clear.

Carys gripped her outstretched hand.

“There is no place for lies between us, we must tell the truth. This is difficult. But I have seen worse and the mother and child are still alive and well.”

Shada took in a deep breath as another contraction began to swell.