Cassidy lay on the stretcher, awake but pale, dark hair damp against her forehead, an oxygen mask covering half her face. Her nightgown was stained dark across the middle. The instant she saw Harry, tears filled her eyes so quickly it nearly shattered the control he still had left.
“Dad,” she whispered through the mask.
“I’m here.” Harry took her hand, and her fingers felt freezing cold. “Lydia called me.”
The EMT near her feet glanced up. “Are you the father?”
“I am.”
“We need to move fast to Bozeman General. Severe blunt force trauma to the abdomen, possible placental abruption. The baby’s in distress.”
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