The Mountain Midwife

The Mountain Midwife Read Online Free PDF

Book: The Mountain Midwife Read Online Free PDF
Author: Laurie Alice Eakes
when you left to call the hospital?” Jason asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Why did you leave her?” Jason asked as he had earlier. “Don’t you have a phone in your exam room?”
    “I do, but my landline wasn’t working. Maybe the rain we had yesterday got to the cables belowground or something.”
    Over her head, Jason exchanged a glance with the techs, then he turned back to her. “The cable going into the house was cut.”

C HAPTER 4

    H UNTER LET HIMSELF into his parents’ Great Falls house with the key he had carried with him since he was twelve and came home from boarding school for breaks. If he hadn’t wanted to avoid disturbing his parents, he would have gone straight to their house from the airport to avoid reporters. Either no one knew where the McDermotts lived, or reporters didn’t dare bother the residents of Great Falls behind their fences for something so trivial.
    He wouldn’t have bothered the residents behind the iron gates if not for that odd message and his parents’ reaction to it. They hadn’t laughed it off; in fact, they had suggested he make the forty-five-minute drive right then and there.
    The front of the house had been bright with lights, but the kitchen Hunter entered was dark save for a light over the stove, a bulb bright enough to show him an apple pie still steaming from the oven. Mom might have moved into the realms of the one-percenters after law school, but she was still a homemaker beneath the corporate sophistication. Rarely had they gone without homemade pies or cakes or cookies she had somehow found the time to craft herself. Hunter smiled and broke off a bite of crust.
    “I should slap your hand for that, Hunter McDermott.” Mom herself strode into the kitchen in three-inch wedge slippers, some velvety loungewear emphasizing her tall, athletic build. “If you want a piece, cut a slice. There’s coffee in the den.”
    “Thanks.” He kissed her smooth cheek. “A new hair color?”
    “Don’t try to flatter me. My hair is the same color it’s been since I was born.” She grinned and fluffed the shoulder-length fall. “Even if it comes from a bottle now. Now go into the den and I’ll bring in some pie. You’re probably starving.”
    “I don’t remember when I last ate.” He cast a longing glance at a fridge he knew would be stuffed with all sorts of delicacies.
    “You need a wife to feed you properly.” As she made her usual plea for him to marry and settle, she moved to the refrigerator and began to pull containers off the shelves. “Fruit? Cheese? Fresh vegetables?”
    “Give the man some real food, Virginia.” Dad appeared in the kitchen doorway, his face drawn, his dark hair looking more gray than Hunter remembered. “A roast beef sandwich at the least.” He held out his hand. “How are you besides hungry . . . son?”
    Hunter didn’t think he imagined the hesitation before the last word.
    He shook hands with his father. “Hungry.”
    Or maybe not. The cramping in his gut felt more like anxiety than starvation. But Mom would prepare a feast and he would eat every bite to please her. Feeding people was Mom’s way of showing she cared.
    Dad took those he cared about golfing. Unable to do that at one o’clock in the morning, he led Hunter into the den, a room full of overstuffed sofas and chairs and a sixty-inch plasma TV. From the fridge inside the wall-hung TV, Dad withdrew a can of soda and gave it to Hunter. “Or would you prefer coffee?”
    “This is fine.” Hunter popped the top on the Coke and settled onto one of the chairs.
    Dad took the one opposite him. For several minutes they didn’t look at each other, nor did they speak. The house was too large for them to hear Mom busying herself in the kitchen. Though the TV was on a twenty-four-hour news station, the sound was turned down. The room lay so quiet Hunter heard the crackling of the soda inside its can. He looked at his father, wanting to say something to break the awkward silence, but no
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