Page 60 of Where the Roses Bloom

“I’m not a doctor,” I said. “I don’t diagnose or prescribe. And I’m not a midwife, so I don’t catch babies or check dilation or anything clinical. But I’m here for you—for your body, your voice, your comfort, your choices. I’ll advocate for what you want if things get intense, especially if you end up transferring to a hospital. I’ll help you manage pain with movement, touch, herbs, and breath. I’ll make sure you eat and drink and rest when you can. I’ll hold your hand or rub your back or curse with you through the worst of it. I’ve sat in a lot of delivery rooms. I know how to keep calm.”

Her mouth pulled into a thoughtful line. “So you’re like…a birth witch.”

I blinked. Then laughed. “Honestly? Yeah. That’s pretty accurate.”

Jasmine smiled, but there was still a pinch of worry at the corners of her eyes. “And if something goes wrong?”

“If something goes wrong,” I said carefully, “I’ll stay with you. I’ll work with whoever else is there and I’ll fight like hell to make sure you’re treated like a princess.”

She studied me for a long moment.

Then: “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I want you there,” she said firmly. “When the time comes. I want you in the room.”

I nodded, heart swelling a little at the certainty in her voice. “Then I’ll be there.”

Jasmine let out a breath. “Good.”

I reached for my bag again, pulling out a small cloth pouch filled with the herb samples I’d brought—nettle, raspberry leaf, cramp bark, a tiny jar of calendula balm. “Here,” I said, laying them out on the nightstand. “This should help with the soreness. Brew the raspberry leaf like tea. If your back acts up tonight, have Caleb massage this balm into the tight spots. It’s not magic, but…close.”

She touched the pouch. “Thank you.”

“I don’t have a contract or anything,” I added, suddenly aware of how informal this all was. “I wasn’t really expecting clients yet. But we can set another visit, and I’ll give you the landline up at the Ward house. Cell service gets spotty sometimes, but that phone always works.”

“Old school,” she said with a smile.

“Old everything,” I said. “But reliable.”

I pulled a pen and scrap of notepaper from my bag and wrote down the number, underlining it twice. “This’ll go straight to the kitchen. If anything happens, or you just want to talk through symptoms, call me. Anytime.”

“Even in the middle of the night?”

I met her gaze. “Especially in the middle of the night.”

She nodded, folding the note carefully and setting it inside her notebook. “You’re different,” she said. “Not just the herbs or the magic stuff. Just…you.”

“I think that’s why I ended up here,” I said. “I think some part of this town was waiting for me.”

“Maybe it was,” Jasmine murmured. “Maybe this baby was, too.”

I helped her get settled back under the covers and promised to come by again in two days to check in. On my way out, Caleb walked me to the car.

“How is she?” he asked.

“She’s okay,” I said. “Not in labor yet. But I gave her someherbs and we talked through next steps. I’ll be back next week for a check-up.”

He nodded. “Thank you. I…don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t answered.”

I smiled, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Well. You’ve got me now.”

As I pulled back onto the road, the Evers house shrinking in the rearview, I felt something inside me shift. Not big. Not loud.

Just…settled.

Like a seed rooting deeper into the soil.