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Parker, the youngest Beckett sibling, hovered uncertainly near the door. “What should I do?” he asked, his impatience evident in his clipped tone.

Grayson, still supporting Jolene, shot his brother a stern look. “Stay calm and be ready to help if we need you.”

Jolene let out another pained groan, her fingers digging into Grayson’s arm. “I don’t care who does what,” she managed through gritted teeth. “Just get this baby out of me!”

The tension in the room was palpable as Lilian returned, carefully balancing a basin of steaming water. Molly followed close behind, her arms laden with soft cloths.

Annalee’s voice was steady and reassuring. “All right, let’s get Jolene comfortable on the bed. Grayson, help her lie down.”

As they maneuvered Jolene onto the bed, she locked eyes with her husband. “Grayson,” she whispered, a hint of fear creeping into her voice, “what if something goes wrong?”

His face softened. “Nothing’s going to go wrong, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You’re the strongest woman I know. This is just another adventure for us.”

Jolene managed a weak smile, drawing strength from his words and the love shining in his eyes. As another contraction seized her, she couldn’t help but wonder if this would be an adventure with a happy ending.

Chapter Eight

Annalee surveyed the room, her gaze sharp and determined. She squared her shoulders, channeling the same resolve she used when facing down a stubborn steer.

“Grayson and Parker. I need you both to head downstairs now. We’ve got things under control here.”

Grayson hesitated, his broad frame tensing as he looked from Annalee to Jolene. “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave her—”

“She’ll be fine,” Annalee interrupted, her tone softening. “We’ll take good care of her, I promise. We need space to work, and you’ll only be in the way.”

Parker, already inching toward the door, nodded with vigor. “Come on, Gray. Annie knows what she’s doing.” He tugged at his older brother’s arm, eager to escape the tense atmosphere.

Grayson leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Jolene’s forehead. “I’ll be right downstairs if you need me,” he murmured, his clipped tone filled with tenderness.

As the men left the room, Molly stepped forward, her eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Annalee’s confidence faltered for a moment as she met Molly’s inquiring gaze. She took a deep breath, her slim frame straightening.

“Ma was supposed to be here for this.” Her eyes flickered with quiet resolve. “But she’s still gone, and we can’t very well ask this little one to wait, can we?”

Jolene let out a pained groan, her gaze locking onto Annalee’s. “I trust you, Annie,” she managed through gritted teeth, her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat.

Annalee nodded. “All right, ladies, we may not have experience, but we’re going to bring this baby into the world. That’s the Beckett way, after all.” She glanced at Lilian and Molly. “We’ll do this just like women have been doing since time began.”

Lilian, her face somewhat pale, stepped forward. “I’ve helped birth calves. Can’t be too different, right?”

Annalee couldn’t help chuckling. “All right, Jolene. You’re strong and brave. You left behind a life of luxury in Savannah to build a home here with Grayson. If you can do that, you can do this.”

Jolene nodded, a ghost of a smile flickering across her face despite the pain. “I wouldn’t trade this life for anything.”

As another contraction hit, Annalee looked at Molly. “Support her head and shoulders. Lilian, get ready with those cloths.” She positioned herself at the foot of the bed, her heart thundering but her voice steady. “All right, Jolene. When I say push, you give it everything you’ve got.”

The next hour passed in a blur of activity, punctuated by Jolene’s screams and the encouraging words of the women around her. Annalee found herself drawing on every ounce of knowledge she possessed, guiding Jolene through each push with a calm she didn’t entirely feel.

Finally, with one last monumental effort from Jolene, a new cry filled the room. Annalee’s hands trembled slightly as she cradled the squalling infant, a boy with a shock of dark hair, just like his father’s.

“You did it, Jolene,” Annalee said, her voice thick with emotion as she wrapped the baby in a clean cloth. “He’s perfect.”

As she placed the newborn in Jolene’s arms, Annalee felt a surge of pride and love wash over her. This was what it meant to be part of the Beckett family, to face challenges and emerge victorious.

Annalee opened her mouth to ask Jolene about a name for the baby when the door burst open. Naomi Beckett, her graying brown hair windswept, strode into the room with the energy of a woman half her age.

“I’m not too late, am I?” Naomi’s voice, direct as ever, filled the space.