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said, loud enough to carry through the door.
    "Hell, you ain't got nothing I ain't already had. Open up. All I need is ten dollars' worth o' gas and a six-pack o'
    Miller Lite."
    "I cain't," she called out tearfully.
    "Come on, Donna. Won't take two shakes, and I'll be on my way. It ain't quite 'leven yet. Open the door."
    "I cain't." She unraveled at the same time her voice rose to a full-fledged scream. "He's gotta gun and he's gonna kill us all." She dropped down behind the counter.
    "Shit!"
    Tiel didn't know from which man the expletive had come, but it echoed exactly what she was thinking. She was also thinking that if Ronnie Davison didn't shoot
    Donna the cashier, she just might.
    The man at the door backed away, then stumbled as he turned and ran for his car. Tires screeched as the vehicle shot backward, then spun around and pulled onto the highway.
    The old man was chanting, "Don't hurt my wife. I beg you, please don't hurt Gladys. Don't hurt my Gladys."
    "Hush, Vern. I'm all right."
    Ronnie was angrily yelling at Donna for being so stupid.
    "Why'd you do that? Why? That guy will call the police.
    We'll be trapped here. Oh, hell, why'd you do that?"
    His voice was tearing with frustration and fear. Tiel thought that he was probably as scared as the rest of them.
    Maybe more so. Because no matter how this situation was ultimately resolved, he would be faced not only with legal
    consequences, but with the wrath of Russell Dendy. God help him.
    The young man ordered the cashier to come from behind the counter to where he could see her.
    Tiel didn't know whether or not she obeyed him. All her attention was centered on the girl, who was in the grip of another contraction. "Squeeze my hand, Sabra.
    Breathe." Isn't that what women in labor were supposed to do? Breathe? That's what they did in the movies. They huffed and they puffed and… and they screamed the house down. "Breathe, Sabra."
    "Hey! Hey!" Ronnie shouted suddenly. "Where do you think you're going? Get back over there and lie down.
    Hey, I mean it!"
    Now wasn't the time to be provoking the rattled young man, and Tiel intended to tell whoever was doing so to cut it out. She glanced up, but the reproach died unspoken when the cowboy knelt down on the other side of Sabra.
    "Get away from her!" Ronnie jammed the barrel of the pistol against the cowboy's temple, but it was ignored and so were the young man's shouted threats.
    Hands that looked accustomed to handling tack and fence posts were placed on the girl's abdomen. They kneaded it gently.
    "I can help her." His voice was scratchy, like he hadn't spoken in a long time, like West Texas dust had collected on his vocal cords. He looked up at Ronnie. "They call me
    Doc."
    "You're a doctor?" Tiel asked.
    His calm gaze moved to her, and he repeated, "I can help her."
    CHAPTER 3
    You're not touching her," Ronnie said fiercely. "Take your lousy hands off her."
    The man called Doc continued to press the girl's abdomen.
    "She's in either the first or second stage of labor.
    Without knowing how much she's dilated, it's hard to gauge how close she is to delivering. But her pains are coming frequently, so I'm guessing—"
    "Guessing?"
    Ignoring Ronnie, Doc patted Sabra's shoulder reassuringly.
    "Is this your first baby?"
    "Yes, sir."
    "You can call me Doc."
    "Okay."
    "How long since you first started noticing the pains?"
    "At first I just felt funny, you know? Well, I guess you don't."
    He smiled. "I have no personal experience of it, no. Describe to me how it felt."
    "Like right before a period. Sort of."
    "Pressure down there? And twinges like a bad case of cramps?"
    "Yes. Real bad. And a backache. I thought I was just tired from riding in the pickup so long, but it got worse. I
    didn't want to say anything." Her eyes moved to Ronnie, who was hovering over Doc's broad shoulders. He was hanging on every word, but he kept the pistol trained on the people who were lined up like matchsticks on the floor.
    "When did these