"Hey, wait! Mister, you gotta help us!"
Mick O'Callaghan stopped at the sound of the frantic
shout. He turned to see a grubby, bearded derelict emerge
from the doorway of an abandoned building, one of many
that lined the narrow Chicago street. As the man stumbled
down the dilapidated steps, Mick recognized Eddy Todd.
Eddy, in his stained and tattered overcoat, was a frequent
flyer at the Mercy House Shelter where Mick volunteered
two days a week.
Staggering up to Mick, Eddy grabbed the front of his brown
leather jacket. "Please. You gotta help. She's havin' a
baby! I don't know what to do. You gotta help her."
"Take it easy, Eddy. Slow down and tell me what's wrong."
Eddy squinted up at Mick's face, and some of the panic
left his watery, gray eyes. "That you, Mick?"
"Yeah, it's me." He kept the old fellow from falling by
catching his elbows. The sour odors of an unwashed body
and cheap whiskey assaulted Mick. No doubt Eddy had been
out panhandling, and some well-meaning Samaritan had given
him money for a meal, but he had spent it on a bottle
instead.
Eddy regained his balance and tugged at Mick's arm. "Come
on. You're a fireman. You can deliver a baby, can't ya?"
Mick cast a doubtful eye at the old tenement. What would a
pregnant woman be doing in there? Only broken shards of
glass remained in the few windows that weren't boarded
over. A section of the roof had collapsed, and debris
littered the area. The only signs of life were a few weeds
that had sprouted in the sidewalk cracks and struggled to
survive in the weakApril sunshine. It wasn't the kind of
place he wanted to go searching through โ especially for
an old drunk's hallucinations.
With a gentle tug, Mick tried to coax Eddy away. "Why
don't you come down to the mission. Pastor Frank can get
you a hot meal. It's meat loaf tonight. You like meat
loaf, don't you?"
"Sure, sure, I like meat loaf." Eddy allowed himself to be
led for a few steps, then he stopped. "But what about the
girl? She shouldn't have her baby in there. It ain't
clean, or nothing. Come on, I'll show ya where she is."
Mick studied the building again. What if Eddy wasn't
imagining things? He glanced at his watch. Normally, it
didn't matter how he spent his days off, but since his
mother had moved in for an extended stay after her
accident, he tried to make sure she didn't spend much time
alone. Tonight was the nurse's night off. Naomi would be
leaving in an hour. Perhaps if he hurried, he could check
the place out, take Eddy over to the mission and get home
before she left.
He turned back to the old man. "I'll take a look, but I
want you to stay here," he insisted.
"Sure, sure. I'll stay ri-right here." Eddy nodded, lost
his balance and staggered back a step. He wavered on his
feet but stayed upright. "You want I should call an
ambulance?"
Mick shook his head and hid a smile. "I'll do that if we
need one. You just stay put."
Walking carefully up the broken steps, he ducked under
crisscrossed boards someone had nailed over the doorway in
a vain attempt to keep people out. It took a few moments
for his eyes to adjust in the gloomy interior. He faced a
long hall with a dozen doors down its length. The first
one stood open, and he looked in.
A tattered mattress surrounded by heaps of cardboard boxes
lay in one corner. Old clothes, tin cans and trash covered
the floor. The place reeked of stale sweat and rancid
garbage. As he stepped back, his foot struck an empty
bottle of whiskey and sent it rolling across the warped
floorboards. Apparently, Eddy had been holed up in there
for some time. At least there was no sign of a pregnant
woman. Mick turned to leave, but the sound of a low moan
stopped him.
It came again, and he moved down the hall to investigate,
skirting a pile of broken furniture and fallen ceiling
plaster that all but blocked the dark hall. The last door
on the left stood open a crack. He hesitated beside it.
Four years as a firefighter had taught him caution. Plenty
of unsavory characters inhabited these slums, and some of
them could be very unpleasant if he'd stumbled onto a meth
lab or another equally illegal operation.
Another moan, louder this time, issued from the room.
Someone was in pain. He couldn't ignore that. Standing
with his back to the wall, he stretched out his arm and
eased open the door. From behind, a hand clamped down on
his shoulder, and Mick's breath froze in his chest.
"What ya doin'?" a slurred voice wheezed.
Relief surged through Mick as his heart began beating
again. He turned and whispered, "Eddy, you scared the life
out of me! Didn't I tell you to stay put?"
"Yeah โ yeah, you told me, but she's in here. I found some
help," he announced and barged through the door.
Mick followed with more caution. Light poured in from a
large, broken window on the back wall. It showed a room
surprisingly neat and free of the stench that permeated
Eddy's lair. It contained little more than a bare mattress
where a young woman with short blond hair lay on her side.
She wore a simple black skirt and a pale pink sweater with
long sleeves. Her splayed fingers covered her small,
rounded belly beneath the sweater. A thin wail escaped her
clenched lips. This was definitely not a hallucination.
At the sound of voices, Caitlin Williams lifted her head
and sighed in relief. Eddy had managed to bring help. She
was sorry she had doubted the old guy. The young man with
him crossed the room and dropped to one knee beside her.
"Can you tell me what's wrong?" he asked.
Scared out of her wits but determined not to show it,
Caitlin said, "I think my baby's coming."
His fingers closed around her wrist, and he stared at his
watch. "How far apart are your contractions?"
"Right on top of each other," she panted, trying to stifle
a groan as another one gripped her. "You a doctor?"
"No, I'm an EMT. Don't worry, I know what to do." He
sounded so calm, so confident. Maybe it would be okay.
Peering up at him, she realized with a jolt that she knew
him.
She'd seen him at the nearby homeless shelter where she
got some of her meals. Only last week, she had watched him
playing football with some of the kids there. He'd caught
a wobbling pass and staggered toward the makeshift
goalposts with half a dozen of them hanging on and trying
to pull him down. His muscular frame had made light work
of the load, but it was his hearty laughter that had truly
drawn her interest. His rugged good looks and dark auburn
hair made him easy on the eyes. At the time, she had
thought his face was more interesting than handsome. It
had character.
"I know you. At the shelter they called you Mickey O." A
warm smile curved his lips and deepened the crinkles at
the corners of his bright, blue eyes. "Mick O'Callaghan at
your service. And you are?" A vague trace of Irish brogue
lilted through his deep baritone voice.
"Caitlin Williams," she supplied through gritted teeth.
"Pleased to meet you." He laid a gentle hand on her
stomach. "When is your baby due?"
"Not till โ" Pressing her lips together, Caitlin waited
for the pains to pass. "August," she finished.
His startled gaze flew to her face, and her fears came
rushing back to choke her. "My baby will be okay, won't
it?"
"I'll do everything I can." He reached into his pocket and
pulled out a cell phone. He flipped open the lid, then
muttered, "Not now."
Caitlin saw the worried look in his eyes. "What's wrong?"
"The battery is dead. Eddy?" he called over his
shoulder. "I need you to go get that ambulance, now. And
hurry!"
"Ri-right, Mick, sure thing. Umโฆwhere should I go?"
"Go to Pastor Frank. Tell him Mick O'Callaghan says to
call an ambulance, then bring him here. Can you do that?"
Taking off his jacket, Mick spread it over Caitlin and
tucked it around her shoulders.
Eddy nodded. "Sure, I can do that."
Mick saw the old man stagger as he hurried out the door.
Torn between the need to stay with the woman or make sure
that help was called he looked at her and said, "Maybe I
should go."
She grabbed his arm. "No, stay, please. Eddy can do it.
Stay and take care of my baby."
"Okay, I'll stay." He composed his face, determined to
keep her calm. He knew a baby born three months early
wouldn't survive unless it waited to be born in a hospital.
Please, Heavenly Father, guide me in making the right
decisions here.
Her face tightened into a grimace as she curled forward
again. "Something's wrong. It hurts."
"You need to breathe through your contractions, like
this." He demonstrated. "Come on, breathe, breathe."
"You breathe. I'm going to scream."
She didn't and he admired her control. "Tell you what,
we'll take turns. Every other contraction, I get to
scream, and you breathe."
She uncurled and relaxed back onto the mattress. "What
have you got to yell about?"
He gave a pointed glance to where she gripped his
arm. "You're doing a bit of acupuncture with those
fingernails."
She jerked away. "I'm sorry."
"Why don't you hold my hand?" He offered it, but she
ignored him and gripped the edge of the mattress instead,
and he regretted saying anything.
He had seen this young woman occasionally at Pastor
Frank's shelter in the last month. She would show up for
the evening meal, but she never stayed long. Like many of
the women at Mercy House, she kept to herself. He'd never
spoken to her, yet something in her eyes had captured his
attention the first time he saw her.
The women who came to Mercy House were mostly single
mothers with ragged children in tow or old women alone and
without families. Their eyes were dull with hopelessness,
desperation and sadness, but life hadn't emptied this
girl's eyes โ they blazed with defiance.
Up close, their unusual color intrigued him. A light
golden brown, they held flecks of green that made them
seem to change with the light. They reminded him of the
eyes of a cougar he had seen in the zoo. Aloof, watchful,
wary. Only now, raw fear lurked in their depths.
Come on, Eddy, don't let me down. Get that ambulance here.
Struggling to hide his concerns, Mick searched for a way
to establish a rapport and put her at ease. "Have you got
a name picked out for your baby?"
"No. I thought I had plenty of time."
He gave her a wry smile. "I've got names picked out for my
kids, and I'm not even married yet."
She arched an eyebrow. "Goody for you."
"A kid's name is important. It's something you should give
a lot of thought. Not that you haven't โ or wouldn't โ I
mean," he murmured as he ducked his head.
Caitlin couldn't believe it. This grown man, as big as a
house, and probably twenty-five years old was blushing.
His neck grew almost as red as his hair. It was sweet,
really.
What could she say to someone about to deliver her baby?
Things were going to get intimate. Maybe soon. She felt
the beginnings of another contraction and reached for his
hand. His large fingers engulfed her small ones. Strength
and reassurance seem to flow from him into her, easing her
fear. Focusing on his face, she followed his instructions
to breathe in and blow out. The pain did seem more
bearable.
As the contraction faded, she realized he still held her
hand. She pulled away and drew his jacket close, relishing
the warmth and comforting scent of leather and masculine
cologne. The quiet of the old building pressed in around
them. "So, tell me what names you got picked out," she
said at last. "Maybe I'll use one."
He smiled. "For a boy, it'll be William Perry."
"Willie Perry Williams." She tried the name out but shook
her head. "Not a chance. Why would you do that to a kid?"
"Are you joking? William 'The Refrigerator'Perry was the
greatest football player in the history of the Chicago
Bears."
Her husband had liked football. The thought of Vinnie sent
a stab of regret through her heart. He would never see his
son or daughter. How she had hoped that he would give up
his wild ways once he knew they were having a baby. He
hadn't. A high-speed chase while trying to outrun the
police ended his life when his car veered off the highway
and struck a tree. His death that night had started her
down the painful path that led to her current desperate
situation.
Within days she had discovered that Vinnie had been
gambling away the rent money she worked so hard to earn.
The landlord didn't want to hear her sob story. He wanted
his money. Three months of unpaid rent was more than she
could come up with. She was evicted the day after her
husband's funeral. With no money and nowhere to go, she
soon found herself living on the streets. The one place
she swore she'd never go back to.
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