Page 31 of Mama & Pops

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Page 31 of Mama & Pops

“Uh-huh.” I could feel his gaze on me as I studied the outside of the barn.

“Looks sturdy enough.” I said in a cheerful voice. “Been a while since we camped out. I thought it might be fun to do it one more time before the baby was born.”

“Right.” He slowly, deliberately climbed off his bike, moving around it to my side. He put a hand gently on my shoulder. “Mama?”

“Hmm?” I looked up at him innocently, trying to keep my cheerful mien.

“You OK?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?”

He seemed indecisive about what to do. Like he was a hunted animal who’d just walked into a trap and was trying to back his way out without springing it. “Camping? You said you hated camping.”

“You know I was just joking. It’s fun. You know. Getting back to nature. Away from everyone. Out here all alone in the great big Texas sky.”

“Right. How about we get inside out of the heat. Yeah?”

“Sounds wonderful.” I climbed off the bike carefully. My balance wasn’t great with a baby so close to being born, and the last thing I wanted to do was fall and injure myself or my child.

Pops took my elbow gently, probably trying to help without seeming to be helping. I’d berated him for doing that very thing several times in the past. When I didn’t react, he scooped me up and carried me inside the barn.

He managed to get me up a ladder to the loft before setting me on my feet while he moved a small wooden crate next to me against the wall and helped me sit.

“Do not move from this crate, Jo.” He pointed a finger at me. His use of my real name told me he meant business.

“Wanna add ‘young lady’ to the end of that?” I muttered the complaint, trying my best to look angry when that panic in my chest was growing. As was the pain in my abdomen.

“I might.” His gaze didn’t soften. “Stay.”

“Yes, master,” I bit out.

The second Pops was out of my sight, I wanted to call him back. The cramping pain in my abdomen had me gripping my belly and doubling over. I had to spread my legs so my belly could fit between my thighs.

Which was when I saw what I’d been wanting to deny.

“Fuuuuuck…”

Not three minutes later -- I knew because I was counting -- Pops popped his head up over the side and hurried up the ladder. When he fully took in my appearance, he froze.

“Mama?”

“What!” I snapped. Because the first really, really bad pain hit me.

“Maybe I’ll just make you a nest. Seems we might need it soon.”

“Don’t say it!” I snarled. “Do not say it.”

“Ain’t sayin’ nothin’. Not a Goddamned word.” Yeah. Pops got the severity of the situation. He hurried back down the ladder to get the rest of our things. It took him two minutes this time. Again, I was keeping count.

“Still with me, Mama?” Pops’s gaze found mine the second his head was over the ledge on his way back up to the loft.

“Right here.” I groaned, gripping my belly with one hand while the other arm braced my weight on the crate.

“Can you give me two more minutes?” He didn’t stop to see if I had two minutes to give, but set about making me a little nest to use as a bed while I…

“Sure. Take all the time you need.” I tried to be flippant but was pretty sure any humor came out a little maniacal.

“Christ!” Pops swore as he finished. The second he moved me, what I’d been trying to ignore the past ten minutes became impossible to confront. “When did your water break?”




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