The Good Samaritan

Rain pelted the windshield as Georgia sped down the pitch black road. Between the glare of headlights from oncoming traffic and the water sheeting over the glass, visibility was nil. Her right hand gripped the wheel so tight, her knuckles ached. Still, she didn't dare let go, holding onto the worn leather like a lifeline. Her left stayed on her tight, perfectly round belly, massaging constant circles into the side of it. When a fresh wave of pain swelled through it, she bit her lip and groaned deeply through it.

Two minutes apart. It wouldn't be long now.

This was not how Georgia planned to bring her baby into the world. She'd had it all planned out: a nice, easy birth in a nice, sanitary hospital, surrounded by a slew of doctors and nurses who knew what the hell they were doing. And Doug, of course. He was the most important part of that plan. Having an obstetrician as a husband was supposed to be a bonus, and frankly it was. That is until she caught him five hours ago in his office at the clinic, with his secretary's legs wrapped around his neck.

As she breathed through her contraction, Georgia realized - of course - that Doug was not the soul carrier of the blame. She should've gotten on the road the minute her water broke, and in a perfect world she probably would have. If she hadn't gone to Doug's office first, to tell him what was happening in person (because the bastard wasn't answering his phone), none of this would be happening right now. She was too angry and upset to think clearly. Besides, this was her first baby; it wasn't supposed to happen this fast. Doug always said it would be twelve hours minimum between her water breaking and active labor. On the other hand, Doug also said he'd loved her, and vowed to be faithful until his dying day.

Lousy, cheating bastard.

The next contraction was so strong, Georgia nearly careened off the side of the slippery road, bellowing like a wounded water buffalo. She managed to wrench the wheel back at the last second, keeping her tires from going into a skid. The traffic light up ahead switched in a second from green to red, forcing her to stomp on the brakes. In hindsight, she should've just run the light and kept going; given her circumstances, there wasn't a cop in the world who would've pulled her over and given her a ticket right now if she had. Georgia wasn't thinking about that, though. She was more worried about the divorce lawyer she'd have to pay, and the baby she would have to feed and clothe all on her lonesome. A traffic violation was something she simply could not afford on top of all that.

The hospital was only ten minutes away. She could still make it.

Georgia concentrated on her breathing as she waited for the light to change. In through her nose and out through her mouth, just like Doug had taught her. Thinking about Doug made her angry all over again, but she tried to think about her baby instead. It would all be worth it when she finally had them in her arms.

They purposely kept the baby's sex a surprise; Doug's idea, not hers. He thought it would be more exciting not to know, like having a baby wasn't thrilling enough. At the time, Georgia just went along with it. At the time, she trusted her loving husband - who was also her doctor - and took his word as gospel.

At the time.

When the pain and her frustration grew too great to bear, she punched the horn with all her might. Once, twice, three times. A second horn honking made Georgia look up again suddenly, which was when she realized there was a line of cars queued up behind her. The light was green again, and apparently had been green for a hot minute. Waving a weak apology to the car behind her, she hit the gas and got going again. The second she did, another contraction blindsided her.

By this time, she'd experienced plenty of Braxton-Hicks contractions - false labor pains - but compared to this, it was night and day. Georgia's heart hammered behind her ribs, swelling with a sudden rush of panic. Was it supposed to hurt this much? What if something was wrong? Would her baby be okay?

Georgia took her eye off the road for just a second, glancing at the phone sitting in her cupholder. Doug would know what to do. Maybe she should call him. Would he even pick up if she tried? He didn't last time, after all. That's how she got in this mess in the first place.

A loud, bass droning made Georgia's head snap back up, and her heart leapt into her mouth. Blindingly bright headlights were coming right at her. She shielded her eyes on instinct, squinting, before she put two and two together.

It was a semi-truck. She'd drifted into the wrong lane.

Georgia gasped, but she was too scared to scream. She yanked the wheel back to the right, zooming back into her lane. Her quick thinking saved both their lives, but the bigger vehicle still managed to scrape the entire length of her Prius. Newton's laws were still very much in effect, as the jarring bump knocked her into a violent, sideways skid. She spun the wheel all the way to the left and right, trying to force her tires to grip the wet road again. Not that it did much good.

She was absolutely terrified. Both her life and the life of her unborn baby flashed before her eyes. She didn't have time to think. To breathe. To blame Doug one last time. One second, she was flying down the road in a death spiral. The next, everything just stopped.

Georgia had no idea what happened. Everything hurt. It was hard to breathe. The rain sounded so much louder than before. After a minute, she realized her shoulder was wet. When she managed to pry her eyes open, the road before her looked strangely blurry. Georgia blinked a few times, trying to bring it into focus, but what she saw didn't make any sense.

The road and the sky had switched places.

Her head was killing her, making it hard to think. When she looked down at herself - because looking at the world upside-down made her dizzy - she figured out why she couldn't breathe very well. The dash was suddenly four inches closer than it was a minute ago, pressing the wheel into her belly. Fresh panic washed over her, seeing her pregnant belly crushed in like that. The gentle, sluggish kicks she felt a moment later were a huge - if temporary - relief, but it didn't change the new, extremely dire predicament she found herself in.

Georgia was pinned in place in her seat. She couldn't move, not without causing herself even more pain. Moving her shaky hands all over her contracting abdomen, she found out why. A thick, jagged piece of plastic had broken free, digging into her belly just above her hip every time she tried to wriggle free. Even if she could move, she couldn't get out of the car. Her door was caved in, and no amount of force she exerted could open it.

Tears poured down Georgia's face as another, even stronger contraction gripped her belly. A hoarse cry left her throat, her arms wrapping around her baby bump instinctively. She could feel the baby's head, already inching steadily toward the outside world. Every contraction helped it along its trajectory, worsening her panic and terror by the second.

It was happening. Her baby was about to be born.

Georgia wept without shame, tugging off her seatbelt and slapping the horn. She couldn't give birth like this. She needed help. Surely someone had seen or heard her crash. The hospital was less than five minutes away. If only someone could find her, everything would be okay.

"Help... H-Help me," she begged, sobbing her plea to the universe. Her voice was so weak and choked with pain, it was impossible to hear over the torrential rain. She couldn't give up, though. She wouldn't. This baby was counting on her. Georgia was all they had. What kind of mother would she be if she just rolled over and let them both die?

Her instinct to push kicked in hard, forcing her to bear down with a whimper. As long as she was stuck in her seat, though, pushing didn't do anything except cause more agony. She was on the brink of fainting from the pain, when a man's face suddenly appeared at her shattered window.

"Hey! Hey, are you okay?!" His voice was kind and warm, deeply masculine in all the best ways. He was soaked to the skin, showering Georgia with more droplets as his head poked into the car. His blue eyes scanned her for a moment, their gaze soft but deeply concerned when he seemed to realize how bad the situation was.

"Okay," he puffed, wringing the rainwater out of his full, salt and pepper beard. "Just... Just hang on, okay?! I'm gonna get you outta here!"

He disappeared a second later, despite Georgia's begging for him to stay, but he came back after a minute, armed with a hook and sturdy tow cable from a winch. Within seconds, he had it wrapped around Georgia's door, then ran off again after it was secure. An engine gunned it in the dark, followed by the sound of creaking metal. Georgia yelped in shock when the door suddenly popped right off its hinges, shivering as a wave of ice cold rainwater soaked her as soon as it was gone.

The man carefully dug his strong, calloused hand under Georgia's legs as soon as he returned, his other finding its way around her shoulders. "Here we go," he said, "ready? On three: one... two... three!"

On "three", he gave a quick yet gentle yank, earning a howl of pain from Georgia's lips. Her left hip popped loudly, and that jagged plastic cut the side of her belly deep, but at the very least she was free. She came loose so suddenly, the man who rescued her fell back into the mud, and she landed squarely on his lap.

"Th-Thank you," she wheezed, pressing a hand over the fresh cut on her side with a groan. "I need... h-hospital... I'm... h-having a baby!"

"I can see that," the man huffed, flashing her a crooked grin. Under normal circumstances, Georgia would be tingling all over if a man that handsome smiled at her like that. His eyes widened suddenly, as the hand supporting her thighs twitched toward her rear. "Wait... you mean right now?!"

"No... I was thinking I'd pencil it in... for next Tuesday," Georgia growled. "Yes, right now, Dingus!! Please help me!"

"Okay, sorry," the man muttered. "It's okay; I gotcha. Can you walk?"

Georgia highly doubted it, considering the shooting pain in her hip, but she nodded anyway. The second she got on her feet, she collapsed with a pained yelp because her hip would not bear an ounce of weight. That didn't concern her half as much as the sudden, intense pressure she felt between her legs, however.

"No... N-Not like this!" she gasped. "It's coming... It's coming out right now! P-Put me down! Hurry!"

The good Samaritan stared at Georgia in sheer panic, his face suddenly white as a sheet. Instead of doing as he was told, he grabbed her up in a bridal carry and ran over to the truck parked on the shoulder of the road. The ride was incredibly jarring, not doing Georgia's hip, cut, or baby any favors. By the time he laid her in the back seat, her baby was already halfway into the world.

This was definitely not how she pictured such an important and life-changing event. It was supposed to be beautiful, serene, and handled by the love of her life who was an expert at these things. Never in a million years did she expect to welcome her child on the side of the road, in the middle of the night, in the pouring rain, with a bumbling jackass for a midwife. That's what she thought at first, until she looked in his eyes again.

Although he was clearly nervous, the way his rough hands moved over her belly had some practice to them. He didn't look like a doctor, but maybe he knew what he was doing after all. At least, somewhat. Within a few minutes, Georgia's newborn baby was on her chest, wrapped up in the man's camouflage jacket. As her rescuer cut and tied off the cord with a pocketknife, Georgia smiled and wept at that beautiful little boy, shocked that something so perfect could come out of her.

"Hi, Baby," she whispered, kissing his squalling little head. "You sure know how to make an entrance." When she realized the man was wrapping her in a blanket, watching her with that cute little grin again, Georgia sniffed and tried to sit up. She didn't get far, though, before the pain in her hip made her lie back down.

"Thank you," she said, and she meant it. "It's been a rough night... for both of us... but I'm glad you were here. And I'm sorry I called you a dingus."

"You're welcome," the good Samaritan said, cleaning his knife in the rain before folding it up and putting it away, "and no offense taken. Let's get you guys to the hospital now. Both of you should probably be checked out."

He carried Georgia and Junior into the ER when they arrived, and even waited by her side in the triage bay while the nurses patched up her cut. Her hip turned out to be dislocated, but thankfully it wasn't broken. Instead of waiting for an orderly to help them reset the joint, he volunteered for the job so her pain wouldn't be prolonged. Georgia was amazed for the second time that night, as he popped her hip back in without relying on any help from the nurses.

As they wheeled Georgia and Junior up to the maternity ward to be checked out more thoroughly, she asked her rescuer to come with. She expected him to say no - as she'd already asked too much of him for one night - but surprisingly he agreed. When they were alone in her room, she felt compelled to thank him again.

"You've been my hero all night long," she joked, smiling wearily as she nursed her new baby. "I'm starting to think there's nothing you can't do. We owe you our lives... and I just realized I don't even know your name."

The man blushed and tipped his well-worn cap. "Think nothing of it, Ma'am," he rumbled. "The name's Joel; Joel Potter. And I'm no hero... just a simple farmer, trying to do the right thing."

Georgia's smile brightened as she offered Joel her hand. "It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Potter. I'm Georgia Brown."

Joel accepted her handshake with a nod, glancing toward the hall for the umpteenth time. "Likewise. I'd give my regards to your husband if he was here... but I guess he had something better to do tonight?"

Georgia clenched her jaw, looking away sourly. "Something like that," she muttered, "Hopefully, he'll be my ex-husband by the time I get out of here. Like I said... it's been a rough night."

Joel nodded his understanding, taking a seat beside her bed with a sigh, "I think I understand... and I'm sorry."

A small smile flickered on Georgia's lips as she reached out, taking Joel's hand again. "I'm not," she murmured.