Chapter Twelve
Julia was propped up in bed, wearing her nightgown, leaning into the four pillows plumped behind her. Margaret had just finished taking her blood pressure again as Julia cradled the baby wrapped in a blanket. Logan touched his son’s head and traced his finger over his cheek and his tiny little fist, taking in his tiny little mouth and nose, which he was positive resembled Julia’s.
“Everything looks good, Julia. The baby, too. How do you feel?” Margaret asked as she packed up the equipment in the trauma kit. Olivia had just left with the soiled towels.
“I feel like I had a baby. But good, tired, sore.” She smiled her sweet, bright smile tinged with exhaustion. Her dark hair was sticking up here and there, and her face was blotchy. The skin under her eyes was a little puffy
