EPILOGUE

 

 

Three months later…

 

“Bob, I’m telling you, the trail leads back to the mayor.”

You could have slapped me and I wouldn’t have felt it when I made the connection between the fires at the old mine and the new casino proposal. Bob, my editor, gave me an assignment to investigate the new casino proposal after promoting me to Lorraine’s position. He wanted me to find out about other small communities and how it affected them and their economies, as well as their crime rate. In doing so, I called the developers of the casino, and by sheer luck, ended up talking with someone who was chatty; they told me that the land they were looking at for the casino was the land around the old gold mine. As you can imagine, having been attacked there was followed by a mysterious fire caught my attention. My spidey senses kicked in, and I looked into the owner of the mine. I found out that the mayor purchased it from the family who owned it a month after the fire and was now looking to make some serious dough on this deal.

If I was right, he used his position as mayor to not only negotiate this deal, but also to find out what property they wanted. And then he lucked out by a mysterious fire that made it possible to purchase that very land? It smelled of scandal; it reeked of corruption and it screamed of arson for the sole purpose of purchasing the property for a song. Wait until I tell Jack . . .

***

One month later…

 

“You fucking bitch!” the mayor roared in my face. My article about what I’d uncovered had gone to print the night before, and all of Gunnison was waking up to find their mayor a suspect in the arson at the mine, and that he was an opportunist of his own making. By allegedly setting the fire, he was able to take advantage of the owners because the fire had made the mine unsafe, and the owners didn’t have the money to exact repairs.

The story went like this. The casino was interested in the mine, but the owners didn’t want to sell. A mysterious fire destroyed the mine, making it unsafe and expensive to rehab for the owners.

In stepped Mayor Hall: “I’ll buy it from you and preserve the history,” he’d told them, but he had no intention of doing so. I found out through communications with the casino owners, that he intended instead to bulldoze the mine and sell it to them for a song.

That brought us to now and the enraged man in my face.

Everyone at the paper got quiet, and I was so shocked by his anger that, for once, I said nothing.

“I’m suing this paper, I’m suing you, and if you think the sheriff won’t see his termination for investigating this bullshit, you’re sadly mistaken. I will bury you both.”

I heard Lorraine on the phone, whispering, as I kept myself on the other side of my desk, afraid the control he was holding on to might snap.

He leaned into my desk and hissed, “You’re through in this town, Mrs. Gunnison. You, and your brute of a husband.”

Did I mention I’d gotten married? Jack wasn’t kidding when he said “marry me”, and he wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted a baby. It had been four months since Charlie abducted me and, since then, Jack had hauled me to Vegas where we’d gotten married with Bailey, Grady, Mom, Dad, Jack’s mother, and Ben and Lorraine all in attendance. Neither of us wanted any fuss. So one month later, instead of the traditional Thanksgiving, we all flew to Vegas and had a short wedding at Cupid’s Chapel, then had a long weekend of gambling and shows. Well, the rest of our wedding party did. Jack and I surfaced once for a Garth Brooks show, ‘cause honeymoon or not, it was Garth, and I wasn’t missing out on him.

Anyhow, back to our story.

The mayor ended his threat by taking his hand and swiping it across my desk, knocking everything to the floor, and then prowled around the desk. I backed up and put my hands up in front of me to keep him back. I heard running in our direction but kept backing up, tangling my foot with my chair sending me to the floor just as Jack rounded my desk.

And since I’d informed him two days prior that we were having a Halloween baby, he kinda lost his shit when he saw me fall.

Jack grabbed the mayor, threw him to the side, reared back his fist, and nailed him right in the jaw. Then he followed with a leg to his stomach, bringing the mayor to the floor and he was out cold. I was trying to get to my feet to stop him, but he turned to me, picked me up, and put me gently in my chair. He proceeded to look me over, searching for injuries.

“I’m ok, Jack.”

“How hard did you fall?”

“Jack, I’m fine. I took spills with Bailey; my pride is bruised, not my body.”

Jack took a deep breath then leaned his forehead against mine.

“I wanted to kill him when I saw you go down.”

“You may have, because he’s not moving,” I replied as I looked at the mayor lying on the floor.

Moments later, the mayor started moving and then rolled to his back, trying to breathe through the pain. His eyes finally opened, and he turned his head to Jack and sneered, “You’re finished. I’m pressing charges for assault; I have a room full of witnesses, and the council will have no problem with my recommendation after this.”

Lorraine walked up about then, looked down on the mayor with a look of disgust, and informed John how it really was.

“You threatened and advanced on a pregnant woman, causing her to fall. You continued to advance on her, even after she was down. I have no problem telling the council that a man protecting his wife, or a sheriff protecting a defenseless pregnant woman, was well within his right as a husband or a Sheriff.”

When Lorraine finished her speech, Bob stepped up.

“I didn’t see anything. Sorry, Mayor.”

“I don’t have my glasses with me today. Sorry, Mayor. I didn’t see anyone beat the shit out of you with one punch,” our print editor, Thomas, laughed.

Grady, who had come with Jack, was standing to the side with his arms crossed over his chest, scowling at his father. He stepped up and helped John off the floor, and then pulled his arms behind his back and stated, “You have the right to remain silent—”

“What the fuck are you doing, Grady?”

“Reading you your rights. We have a warrant for your arrest. Got it this morning from Judge Thompson. We found the evidence you started the fire at the mine in your barn, you stupid sonofabitch. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” Grady continued as he walked his father out of the newsroom and out the door.

“Wow, that was freaking awesome,” I whispered to my husband who’d been watching the whole thing, scowling with rage.

“Yeah,” was all Jack grunted, then he turned back to me and ordered, “Want you home in bed resting after that spill you took.”

My guy was so cute. I was heading home anyway, so his bossy didn’t bother me; not when it was wrapped up in love and concern for his future son or daughter.

“Ok, Jack.”

“You need me to drive you home?”

“I think I can handle it,” I smiled. This was going to be a long eight months if he reacted like this with every spill or stubbed toe I got.

***

Three months later…

 

“Mamacita, I’m home,” Bailey shouted as she flew through the front door, Grady following in her wake with a huge grin on his face. Did I mention that during my kidnapping, Grady took care of Bailey and they made a connection, one that was still going strong seven months later? You’d have to forgive me—pregnancy hormones—and my memory wasn’t what it used to be. They were adorable together. Grady was a badass in the making; give him eight more years until he hit thirty, and I guaranteed he’d be uttering monosyllabic sentences and he and Jack could sit around grunting “babe, yup” and “babe, nope” to answer every question ever asked of them.

“Oh, my God, look at your cute little Buddha belly,” Bailey squealed, rushing forward. I was three and a half months along but it looked more like six. I was keeping a surprise from Bailey until she was home for the summer. Twins. God had a sense of humor.

For the first time since I’d met him, Jack was speechless when I’d told him. He just looked at my stomach and smiled. We didn’t want to know the sex of the babies, or if they were identical, until they were born, so instead of coming up with a single girl’s or boy’s name like most pregnant couples, we had to come up with two of each to cover our bases.

Bailey got down on her knees and whispered to my stomach, “Hey, little bro. I can’t wait to meet you.”

“What makes you think it’s a boy?”

“Please, would Jack’s loins produce anything but?” She has a point there.

“Well, now that you’re home, you can help us pick out names. I need two of each.”

“Cool, I’ll pull up names on the web, and we can write down what we like, but why two?”

“Because we’re having twins,” I beamed.

Bailey threw her head back and laughed, “Of course you are! Jack got his way with this as well. He wanted two kids, so he got two in one go.”

Jack walked up as she was laughing and wrapped his arms around my belly, kissing my neck, and then whispered, “Your daughter has me figured out. When will her mother accept I get my way in all things?”

“Her mother knows it; she’s just fighting it.”

“Losing battle, just saying,” he replied in my ear. Bailey was watching us, smiling, and then she teared up.

“You guys are so cute together. I just love how much you love my mom, Jack,” she cried. Jack moved to her and wrapped her up in a hug, and she buried her face in his chest.

I knew there would be moments that Doug’s death would hit her hard. Luckily, she had Jack in her life as well, and he took over the role of “head of the house” and “protector of his women” as if he were a seasoned pro. No one had better mess with his girls. Ask Grady: he’d had the “I’m watching you” talk from Jack already. For a man who’d never been married, he was a great stepfather and husband, and most of all, a great best friend. We only fought when I didn’t agree with him, which happened more often now that I was pregnant. Jail time had been threatened if I carried anything heavier than a pillow…Men forgot that before modern medicine came along, women plowed the field and only stopped long enough to push out the baby; then, with baby strapped to their chest, went back to plowing the field. (Ok, a bit of a tall tale, but not by much.) However, like Jack said, he got his way in most things, and since it meant I could sit with my feet up, who was I to complain?

***

Five months later…Halloween

 

“Mom, please try to get along with Jack’s mother.” Mom had flown in from Florida to help me with the babies. My due date was three weeks away and since I was carrying twins, my doctor had put me on bed rest for the last two months of my pregnancy to keep me from going into pre-term labor. Twins liked to come early, and anything beyond thirty-six weeks was considered a bonus. I was in week thirty-seven, and everyone was staring at me, waiting for me to burst. Jack’s mother, living only a county away, drove over every day to help. And since this was her first grandchild, she was anxious and excited and tried to help out as well. My mom being my mom obviously thought that “this is my daughter, I’ll take care of her” and she kept arguing about how Susie, Jack’s mother, was doing things.

“I get along fine with her. She just doesn’t know how we do things, and I didn’t want her to make more work for you, that’s all.”

I lifted an eyebrow at her.

“Mom, it’s just towels. She can fold them any way she wants to.”

“They take up too much space the way she does it,” Mom explained.

I looked at her, then back at my mother-in-law who was sitting on the couch, looking pissed off at being told, “You’re not folding them right, Susie,” and I threw up my hands. I was too exhausted carrying around all this weight; my feet were swollen, my back hurt all day, and I was just plain tired of being pregnant, but it was Halloween, and I wanted to sit on the couch and watch the kids come to the door and get their candy. So out I came from my bedroom to find Susie and Mom sniping at each other about how to fold a towel.

And don’t get me started on mealtime…I hid in my room when it was time to decide what’s for dinner and who’s cooking it. Thank God, there are two babies. Wars have started over who held the baby next and for how long.

I sat down, grabbed the bowl of candy, and started digging through it. There better be my favorite candy in here, or there’d be three angry ladies in this house.

The doorbell rang, and I heard a little girl’s sweet voice saying trick or treat.

Whoops, I have the candy.

I pushed off the couch and waddled my way to the door. When I arrived, I found a cute, blond, blue-eyed girl with an angelic face.

I leaned over and said, “You’re so pretty, are you a princess or a fairy?”

Angelic child moved closer and said, “I’m a princess. Are you dressed up like a pregnant woman or are you pregnant?”

Smiling, I thought back to the year earlier when Jack had asked me to be a pregnant woman for Halloween and here I was, just that.

I leaned in and said, “Pregnant with twins. You want to feel? They’re kicking.” Her eye’s got big when I took her hand and put it to my stomach where baby A was kicking. Her angelic face grew in awe, and she smiled.

“Cool, huh?”

“Way cool,” she replied.

I handed out her candy and waved goodbye as she made her way back to her mother. I turned to the couch and I’d only taken two steps when a sharp pain hit my lower stomach and I felt liquid rush down my leg. I shouted out in pain and bent over as my mother and Susie rushed to me.

“My water just broke.”

“Sweet baby Jesus in a manger,” my mother replied.

“I’ll call Jack,” Susie shouted and then headed for her phone. I breathed through the contraction, still bent over, and when it finished, I stood up and walked down the hall with my mother holding on to me.

Once in the bedroom, I headed to the bathroom and stripped out of my maternity clothes and got in the shower.

I had three more contractions while cleaning up, but the hot water helped relieve the pain. I was just getting out of the shower when Jack burst through the door, looking anxious, so I smiled at him.

“Can you believe it? They’re being born on the night you asked me to marry you?”

“Jesus, what are you doing in the shower?” Jack growled.

“My water broke, Jack, so I wanted to get cleaned up.”

“Christ,” he replied as he grabbed my hand and helped me to the bedroom. Mom was standing, ready to dry me off and help with clothes, and Susie was getting my bag together.

“I’m giving you five minutes to get dressed, then I’m carrying you outside and to the truck.”

“Whatever,” I muttered, feeling more pressure than before. As I got my bra and panties on, another contraction hit me, and I reached for Jack.

He grabbed my hand and whispered in my ear, “Breathe, sweetness, I got you.”

“Jack, we need to go, I feel like I need to push.”

“Is that bad?” he asked as his face paled.

“It’s not bad if you’re in a birthing room with a doctor, but at home with no one to help deliver your babies, it’s not good.” I’d no sooner got that out when another contraction hit.

“Oh, dear, the contractions are right on top of each other; we need to hurry,” Susie implored.

“Too late,” I snapped and sat down on the bed.

“I’ll carry you, let’s go. Get her bag, Mom, we’re leaving now.”

“Oh, God, too late, Jack, I have to push. Mom, call 911.”

“I’ll get you there, baby, just hold on,” Jack bossed.

“Jack, honey, you’re not getting your way on this one. Help me lie down.” Jack just stood there staring at me, working this problem out in his head.

“Jack, I swear to God I’ll find your gun and shoot you if you don’t move and help me,” I hissed and then another contraction hit, and I screamed, “I hate you, I can’t believe you talked me into doing this again.” Deep breath in, let it out slowly, “No, don’t touch me,” deep breath in, let it out, forget this, panting now. “Now’s… oh, God, now’s not the time to be touching me if you want to keep your balls intact.”

“Swear to Christ, Jenn,” Jack growled, then picked me up and laid me on the bed. I’d only got my bra and panties on, so Jack pulled them off and then covered me with a blanket.

“Everything’s always a drama with you!” he shouted.

“What?” I hissed.

“We met during a murder, drama. You get attacked, drama. You get kidnapped, drama. You get assaulted by the mayor, drama. Can we just bring our babies into this world without drama?” he shouted louder.

“Are you seriously shouting at me while I’m in labor having your babies because they decided to come quickly?”

“Yeah, no, yeah… Christ, where’s the fucking ambulance?” he roared at the room and no one in particular. I started laughing, and he looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

“Jack, baby, you need to breathe.”

“I’ll fucking breathe when the fucking ambulance is here and takes my wife to the fucking hospital to have my babies where she fucking belongs and not a fucking minute sooner... Jesus, why’s the room spinning?”

“Jack, sit down, you’re breathing too fast and making yourself dizzy.”

Jack looked at me then looked at the bed and sat down, putting his head between his legs. I grabbed his hand and squeezed when another contraction hit me. The pressure to bear down was so great I had to, because not doing so went against nature.

Panting, and “hee hee who’ing,” I cried out as Jack held my hand, saying, “Just hold on, please Jenn. Don’t push, the ambulance is coming.”

“Jack, you gotta look and see if I’m crowning.”

Jack looked at me, then at my belly, looked back at me, and then something shifted. He went from scared husband to sheriff and trained medical tech. I didn’t know if he’d ever delivered a baby before, but he was quickly gonna find out if he was up for the job.

“Mom, go open the door and wait for the ambulance. Valerie, get me the clips we use on the potato chips and a pair of scissors, towels, baby blanket, and the nose sucker in the baby bag.”

Then he turned to me and said, “Don’t you push unless I say so, do you hear me? If you’re not dilated enough, you’ll rip your cervix.”

I nodded at my take-charge husband and felt calmer already. Experienced or not, he seemed to have it under control.

Jack lifted the blanket and looked between my legs, and I heard him say, “Shit.”

“Don’t cough, sneeze, or breathe.” Then he bellowed, “I need that stuff right fucking now.”

A contraction hit me, and I screamed, “Jack, I gotta push!”

If I wasn’t clear on this already, not pushing was like telling your body not to breathe; it was a reflex, my body pushed, and I kept breathing, trying to stop, but it wasn’t working. I screamed out in pain and frustration as Mom ran into the room and handed the stuff to Jack.

Jack lifted the blanket, and I screamed again, “I can’t Jack, I can’t hold off, oh, God.”

“Push, baby, I got you, I got you, push.”

Mom grabbed my hand and helped me lean forward; she counted to ten while I pushed, then I took a deep breath and pushed to ten again.

Jack shouted, “Stop pushing,” and then grabbed the nose sucker, and I heard him suction. I felt like I was splitting in two when he finally got up in the middle of the bed and with both hands grabbed the baby’s head and said, “Give me one long hard push.”

I drew in a breath and pushed right through the pain, then pushed to bring my baby into this world and finally lay eyes on one of them.

Jack grunted, and I could feel him pulling on the head then turn the shoulders, and with a gush, I felt the baby swim out.

I waited while Jack did whatever he was doing, but I kept chanting, “Is he ok, is she ok?”

I saw Jack clamp the umbilical cord with the potato chip clips and then heard the scissors snipping.

“Jack, why isn’t he crying?” I’d no sooner asked that when I heard a smack and a wail, and then Jack finally looked up.

“Meet Keller, baby… you gave me a son,” he choked out as tears ran down his face.

Mom was standing next to Jack, smiling, as he handed her Keller, and she wrapped him in a blanket, before handing him to me.

Instant love so strong it overwhelms your heart hit me, and when I looked into those baby blues, I prayed they’d be like his father’s. Dark-brown hair, tons of it for a newborn, and he was big. Bigger than I thought for a twin, because he had to be six and a half, maybe seven pounds. Tears ran down my face as I kissed his little head and breathed him in for the first time.

Susie rushed in, screaming, “The ambulance is here,” and she raced over to look at little Keller.

I felt another contraction and cried out, “Take the baby,” as baby B decided it was time to make an entrance. Jack was scowling and ordered, “Jenn, the baby’s turned, don’t push.”

I breathed through the contraction, trying to stop pushing, when an EMT rushed into the room. Jack briefed him on my condition and then moved aside and took my hand.

“Mrs. Gunnison, don’t push, the baby has breached, and we need to get you to the hospital.”

I nodded my understanding, and he stood and started an IV. Another tech brought in a stretcher and transferred me onto it, then took me out to the waiting ambulance. Jack crawled in the back holding Keller, then my hand, as we rushed down the road to the hospital.

I had three more contractions on the way, breathing and cussing at Jack, who grinned while looking worried at the same time. We made it to the hospital in record time where I was unloaded, taken to the ER, and informed that since the baby was breach, they needed to perform a C-section immediately.

Rushed from the room with Jack at my side, and Keller handed off to the nursing staff, who placed bracelets on both Jack and my wrists for identification and security, we had to part company to get me ready for surgery and for Jack to change into scrubs.

“I love you, Jenn. I’ll be in there shortly,” Jack whispered to me.

“I love you too, Jack,” I whispered back, exhaustion finally hitting me. Another contraction came, and I whimpered.

“Time to go, Mrs. Gunnison. Sheriff, you can step in here to change and we’ll be back in a moment to get you.” Jack leaned in and kissed my forehead, holding still for a moment before moving back. He grabbed my hand and held it until he had to let go, and they wheeled me through the birthing room doors.

***

Two hours later…

 

“The doctor thinks they’re identical,” Jack told Bailey over the phone, grinning like the new Dad he was. I could hear Bailey laughing over the phone and smiled down at the two little boys in my arms. There was no doubt in my mind they were identical, and there was no doubt in my mind they looked just like Jack. God help me; I’ll have a long road ahead of me if they’re just as stubborn and bossy as their father.

“Ok, Bailey, love you, Princess. See you soon.”

Jack started to call Bailey Princess after he found out I was pregnant. I wasn’t sure if knowing he was going to be a father kicked in his paternal nature, but as far as Jack was concerned, Bailey was his.

Jack moved from the chair and came to the bed. He looked at his sons, Keller and Kaiden, and leaned down, kissing both their sleeping heads.

“I can’t believe you gave me two sons,” he said with a hard edge to his voice.

“Are you disappointed one wasn’t a daughter?”

“Hell no. I got a daughter already, and now she has two brothers to kick Grady’s ass if he gets out of line,” he announced with conviction. Hearing that, confirming what I already knew in my heart, made tears well in my eyes.

“Thank you, Jack.”

“For what?”

“For loving me, for giving me a family again, and mostly for loving Bailey like your own.”

Jack studied my face, his eyes warm and bright; then he came closer and kissed my forehead, my nose, and my lips.

“Thank you for giving me what I thought I’d never have.”

“A family?”

“A reason to breathe.”