Their kids were deciding to make their entrance into this world early, a fact that Bishop knew could happen. (Or so the doc had said) and yet he couldn’t help all the ‘what if’ scenarios that raced through his head. Or the fact that he wished the doctor could get here sooner. He was not qualified to be handling this, not even a little bit. Making moonshine, sure, he could do that in his sleep. Or blowing things up without blowing himself up in the process, again, a cakewalk. Delivering babies, he didn’t even have the slightest clue.
Yet, he could remember one thing from all the times his sisters (two of them at least) had been in labor. Having a kid took a long ass time. And Teagan was having two of them. He focused on that fact and kept telling himself by the time it got critical the Doc would be there and would take over.
Until that point Bishop just had to make sure nothing happened, or pray that nothing happened. His mama would be so proud that all those Sunday's spent in church had had a small affect on him. Because he was praying to the big man upstairs like it was his job or like he really was some kinda Chaplain.
After a rushed explanation to Cheney, who’d been working on his truck with him. Bishop made a mad dash for his trailer and burst through the door like a man on fire. “Alright, what the hell do we need to do?” Teagan had done this before, she knew more about having a kid than he did. “Did the doc give you any instructions until he could get here?”