Labour Day brought quiet to the peninsula. Cottagers and day-trippers from Toronto disappeared, and in their place came a weekly parade of fall festivals that thrilled Jenna. Apple picking, pumpkin celebrations, and everyone broke out the plaid shirts.

Not Sean, though.

“You know that I love you,” she said slowly as she followed him from the bedroom into the kitchen early one morning.

“Yes.”

“So I’m not saying this is a relationship deal breaker now, but—”

He stopped in front of the coffee maker and grabbed the fresh grinds he’d just measured out. “If you’d known that I didn’t wear plaid flannel shirts, you wouldn’t have married me?”

She tried to sound as serious as possible. “It’s a possibility.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

She gave him an appreciative once over. There was nothing wrong with his tight black t-shirt and cargo pants that hung perfectly from his hips.

Nothing at all. “You know you look good. That’s not the point. There’s just something in the air.”

He pressed the power button on the coffee maker and turned around, leaning back against the counter. “I think it’s called frost. Go get me the shirt.”

She pumped her fists in the air and did a happy dance all the way back to their bedroom.

When she got back to the kitchen, he had her travel mug filled and her bagel toasted. “I love you,” she whispered as he fisted his hand around the red and black fabric. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Was that for the coffee or the shirt?”

“For both. For the way you take care of me. For getting up with me so early in the morning too.”

It was early, too. She wanted to make morning rounds at the hospital.

He walked her to the front door, grabbing his cane on the way. “I’ve got a busy day today too. I’m heading out with the search and rescue team. We’re going to talk about endurance and cross country movement, and then they’re going to do some timed exercises I planned for them in the woods.”

And tomorrow was his last official day in the Canadian Forces, but they weren’t talking about that just yet. He’d been studiously avoiding the topic, other than to tell her he’d be gone in the evening for the unit’s regular training night and the official “mug out” send-off from the officer’s mess.

“Good luck with the training. And stay warm in that super-handsome shirt!” She kissed him again, then grabbed her bags and her breakfast and headed into the still-dark morning.

Dawn broke as she drove out of town.

She put on a top 40 station and rolled down her window. There was frost in the air, Sean was right. She drank her coffee and thought about her case load as the cool morning air pinked up her cheeks.

Her first intake client, Brenda, was five days past her due date. Jenna would have to touch base with her after rounds. And she needed to follow up with her newest intake, too—a Syrian refugee, recently arrived in Canada, and terrified about navigating an unfamiliar health care system.

Jenna’s limited Arabic had never felt so useful as in that first meeting.

But it wasn’t enough. She’d have to help the mother find a native speaker translator who she would be comfortable having at her delivery. Maybe Jenna could put the word out in the midwifery forums and see if there were any Arabic speaking students who wanted to do a spring placement with her. As welcoming as Jenna could be, she was no replacement for someone who shared more of a client’s culture and background.

She liked being this busy, though. It was no hardship. And while a small town practice offered its own unique challenges—like the hour-plus drive into work four or five days a week, and being a significant distance from a delivering hospital much of the time—she wouldn’t give up its benefits.

Like being surrounded by friends.

Waking up to her husband’s kisses each morning.

Having a close-knit support group at the end of an exhausting day.

The pies at Mac’s.

And the chance to make a real difference in an underserved community.

It’s why she’d flown halfway around the world, but she was needed here, too.

The day flew by, and then in the late afternoon, it got exciting.

After a no-news phone call with Brenda at lunch time, she called back at three and said she was having contractions. “They’re not close together yet, but they’re pretty intense. I think. I don’t know.”

“If you aren’t sure yet, then it’s probably still early, but you’re on my way home. How about I stop in and see you in about an hour? And call me again if anything changes.”

She wrapped up the rest of her clinic work, checked her calendar for the next day—which was wide open, as it wasn’t one of her two clinic days for patient appointments. A good day to help a couple deliver a baby, for sure.

She updated her partners about the contraction news then headed for her car. Brenda lived on a farm halfway to Pine Harbour, and when Jenna got there, she found her client hanging laundry on the line.

“Last minute nesting?” she asked with a smile.

“Something like that.” Brenda gave her a nervous look. “The first one wasn’t so bad, but some of them have taken my breath away.”

“That’s a good sign, it might mean that they’re productive contractions. I’ll watch you through a few of them. Maybe we can adjust your breathing a bit to make them more manageable too.”

The first one came as Brenda was hanging the last of the laundry. She stopped and leaned forward, bracing her hands on her knees.

Jenna kept an eye on her watch. Only thirty seconds, although she was sure it felt longer than that for Brenda. And when it ended, Brenda slid right back into the conversation.

“They’re definitely stronger like that when I’m standing or walking.”

“Let’s go for a little walk, then, and see how long it takes for the next one to come. But then I want you to go inside and get some rest.”

It was almost ten minutes until the next contraction. In that time, they talked about breathing, and eating, and sleep. All the things a labouring woman needed to maintain her strength.

Inside the farm house, Brenda’s husband was working on his computer, but he came to her side right away.

Jenna patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s get her onto the couch. Your job is going to be enforcing a nap at the very least.”

She took Brenda’s vitals while they waited for the next contraction, and then she sat on the floor next to the couch and watched her client.

There was no magic ball when it came to estimating labour. But as a first-time mom, with weak contractions that lengthened with rest… Jenna didn’t want Brenda to get too excited about having a baby tonight. “Maybe tomorrow,” she said. “But it is possible for this early labour stuff to go on for a few days. Your uterus is figuring out the contractions. It’s a waiting game now.”

“Can you check me? Inside?”

Jenna furrowed her brow. She wasn’t one to offer an internal exam, but if a client asked for it… there were pros and cons, and she explained them to Brenda.

“I think if I knew what my cervix was doing, if I was dilated at all, that would help calm me.”

Jenna nodded. “And if you aren’t dilated at all, don’t be disappointed.”

They waited for the next contraction to pass, and then Jenna pulled out what she’d need from her travel bag.

Sure enough, the first-time mom’s cervix was maybe one centimetre dilated, just a fingertip, and quite firm. Jenna discarded her medical gloves into a biohazard bag then covered Brenda back up with the blanket her husband had brought for her to rest under.

“Your cervix is still pretty high and firm. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything—our bodies are amazing, and things can change quickly, but what we usually see with first time moms is that it takes a while. I do like the look of your contractions, though. Those are nice and regular. This is definitely early labour, but I’d expect it to come and go over the next twenty-four hours. So I recommend you get some sleep.” She glanced at Brenda’s husband, including him in that. “Both of you. And I’ll come and check on you again first thing, or whenever you page me. Okay?”

She made sure her numbers were programmed in their phones.

“Get some sleep,” she repeated. “Tomorrow you’re having a baby.”

After she stowed her bag in the trunk of her car, she called Sean.

He answered on the third ring, and from the background noise, she could tell he was still outside. “How goes the baby delivering?”

“Slowly. It’ll probably be tomorrow, so I’m heading home to sleep. Are you still out with the search and rescue team?”

“No, I’m at the meadow.”

Again. He’d been spending a lot of time there lately. She smiled. “Okay. I’ll see you when you get home, then.”

“I…” He laughed. “I could use a ride home, if you want to stop and pick me up. I walked here.”

“From where?”

“Home.”

“Sean, that’s five kilometres!”

“I made it, though.”

She shook her head even as she smiled with secret pride. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

He met her at the access lane, but when she pulled to a stop, he didn’t get in the car. Turning it off, she hopped out and went around to him.

He kissed her quickly. “How tired are you?”

She shook her head. “I’ve got lots of energy.”

“I want to show you something.”

Even though he’d been going since early morning, he was pretty steady on his feet. She didn’t miss that he was using his cane, though. Sometimes it was just a safety net now, but other times—like toward the end of the day, or when he was suffering from a migraine—he used it with every step.

Tonight was one of those times.

But he wanted to show her something, and she wasn’t going to rain on that parade. He was a big boy. Her shock over him walking all the way to the meadow was enough doubt for one day.

Besides, he was wearing her shirt and holding her hand as they walked through a forest. It was pretty much her fall fantasy come to life. If there was making out up against a tree, her already great day would be made perfect.

She checked the signal on her pager and her cell phone, because sometimes reception on the peninsula was spotty, but she was fine.

Once they were across the snowmobile trail Sean slowed down. “Right here.”

So they weren’t walking all the way in to the meadow.

She turned in a slow circle.

But when she returned her gaze to where Sean had been standing, he was gone, moving around some scrubby brush.

“Careful,” he called out over his shoulder. “Don’t trip over the kitchen.”

She pulled up short. In front of her was a thin rope stretching across the pine needles covering the forest floor. She followed it to a wooden stake in the ground then took the ninety degree turn to the next stake. Here there were two ropes, one extending forwards, more external wall, and the other cutting in again. “Big kitchen,” she said quietly, her heart thudding in her chest.

“It’s become a tradition in my family to build a house for the women we love.” She jerked her head up and found Sean had returned. He had a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand, late summer blooms. Hardy flowers that had withstood the crazy heat waves and heavy summer storms. Bright orange, pale yellow, the odd purple dotting here and there.

He stopped in front of her and lowered himself to one knee as he held out the flowers. “I want to build you a house, Jenna.”

She already had everything she needed. And he wanted to give her more?

They had a little house. She’d brought up buying it from Dean, but Sean had always been vague about when they might do that.

“I already asked you to marry me, and I thank God every day you said yes. I fell in love with you in a heartbeat, and my entire life changed. And when my life changed again, you never wavered.”

That wasn’t true, though. She’d wavered plenty. Second-guessed her crazy plan to follow him, worried she wasn’t enough… She wanted to fall to her knees and kiss him. Tell him he didn’t need to do this.

But she couldn’t move, and the look on his face was one she’d never forget. He wanted to do this. He gazed up at her, his eyes bright and filled with promise, and it was like they were back in Spain.

Heady feelings and endless dreams.

He pressed the flowers into her hands, covering her fingers with his own. Strong, solid hands, attached to a strong, solid body. A quiet, solid man, made stronger still by all he had survived.

“I want to build you a house big enough for all our dreams,” he said, squeezing her fingers. “A threshold I can carry you over.”

Her heart flipped and she nodded. “Yes.”

“Yes?” He grinned and stood again, using his cane to get up. He wrapped his arm around her waist, hooking his fingers into the back pocket of her jeans as he pulled her against him.

“Show me our future home,” she said as he curved over her, as he leaned in for a kiss she already knew was going to steal her heart. His kisses always did. Soft, sweet plundering embraces that turned dirty on a dime.

This was no different. His lips coaxed and his tongue teased, until she was up on her toes and he had to widen his stance to hold her as he kissed her with his entire body.

“Right, the house,” he finally said with a quiet laugh as he held her close. “Got distracted.”

“Yes. Show me before we lose the light.”

He turned her around and pointed at the lines. From this angle, she could see them more clearly, and there were orange paint marks on the wooden stakes. “This is the kitchen. Big enough for a farmhouse table so we can have dinner parties, just the way you like them. Everyone helping with the prep. A wine rack here, and around the corner, a butler’s pantry. Behind that…” He gestured with his cane, and she followed. “A mudroom that leads into a garage. A place to store hockey gear and your medical bags.”

“Hockey gear?” She gave him a wide-eyed look. “Are you going to start skating again?”

He shrugged. “I was thinking about trying sled hockey. A lot of injured vets play it. But not right now. Either way, our kids will have stuff. Need to plan ahead.”

“Kids?”

He pointed into the tree-studded sky above them. “Four bedrooms upstairs, with a library off the master bedroom that can be a nursery.”

How many kids was he planning for them to have? “Fancy.”

“You’re a hard woman to please,” he murmured, but his eyes were on fire now, and she loved it. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

Him wanting to make babies with her was definitely the good part, but she wasn’t letting on just yet that she was sold, all in, whatever he wanted.

The forest floor here wasn’t level, and he took her hand, tugging her to the top of the rise, where their tent was erected. How had she missed that? “This,” he murmured as he moved around her. “This will be the view from our bedroom window. Even better, really, because we’ll be up another storey.”

There was a gap in the trees ahead of them, and through it, she could see their meadow.

“Oh, Sean—”

Brrrt. Her pager vibrated.

She tugged it off the strap of her cross body bag and read the text message from the answering service. Brenda’s water had broken and they were heading to the hospital. “I have to go,” she said, regret lancing each word. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”

He cupped her face and kissed her. “I’ll call someone else to come get me. Go.”

“But—”

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life right here. Sending you off to bring babies into the world. Hearing the phone ring and knowing that our plans will need to change. And that’s okay. That’s more than okay. That’s wonderful. I love you. Go. I’ll be at home when you’re done. Wake me up and tell me all about it.”