The Cowboy is a Daddy

by Mindy Neff

  ‘‘Doc will be here soon.” And the vet, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate hearing that bit of information. “Lie back.”

  “I can’t!” Madison clutched at her stomach and doubled over. The books on childbirth hadn’t prepared her for this horrible pain. It was huge, all encompassing, clawing at her like a savage beast, wiping all thought from her head. Panting, praying, trying not to humiliate herself by screaming, she became aware a moment later of the gentle hand cupping her chin. Lifting her head, she met concerned, deep navy eyes bare inches from her own.

  Maddie pulled back, embarrassed that he was witnessing her indignity.

  “Easy, sunshine,” he soothed. “Breathe with me now. Slow and easy.” She did. “That’s a girl.”

  Sunshine? His words were soft, his voice hypnotic. She wondered if confusion went hand in hand with labor, because she hadn’t realized a man could speak with such tenderness. Especially a man as big as Brice DeWitt—and one who wasn’t averse to shouting when he was off balance.

  Well, he certainly seemed centered now, or maybe that’s because she felt so uncentered. With his fingers tunneled through her hair, his palms gentle against the sides of her face, he held her gaze, taking slow, deep breaths, then releasing them, encouraging her to do the same.

  She knew the drill; she’d gone through the childbirth classes, but somehow in the midst of the mind-numbing pain, she’d forgotten every lesson she’d learned.

  But Brice’s patience, his sturdy presence, was bringing it back to her. Their breaths mingled, in and out in unison.

  Finally Maddie realized the contraction had stopped.

  “Okay now?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I’m really sorry about this.”

  He waved away her apology and opened her suitcase that he’d brought into the room. She might have objected to him rooting though her stuff, but right now she simply didn’t have the energy. “You got in touch with the doctor?”

  “Yeah. He’s on his way.”

  “Oh, thank goodness.”

  “Don’t be too hasty with your thanks. The fog’s rolling in pretty thick. It might take him a while to get here.”

  “But that’s not a problem is it?”

  He held up a flannel nightgown, frowned at it, then walked back toward the bed. “Maybe you should change or something,” he said, instead of answering her question, making her nervous. “The bathroom’s right through there.”

  Maddie felt her face flame. She’d applied for this job, desperate to get away. In the past few weeks, her life had literally fallen apart, and she was basically on the run, with only her car and its contents to her name. Now, on top of all that, her new employer, a stranger, a tall cowboy with a tough frown and gentle hands, was advising her to get undressed.

  It was the sensible thing to do. She certainly wasn’t about to chance a two-hour ride to a hospital. Still, she felt weird. “Um...isn’t there a woman, uh, here?”

  He pinned her with a look that was mildly accusing. “Nope. Just a bunch of cowboys. That’s why I hired you.”

  “Oh.” She stood and reached for the gown, just as another pain slammed though her abdomen.

  Brice automatically reached out to her, supporting her. Man, she was so small, it was a wonder she could even stand with the weight of her pregnancy. He hated to see anyone in pain, and he felt so helpless.

  Where was this baby’s father? And what kind of man would let the mother of his child go off on a cross-country trek at a time like this?

  Well, not exactly cross-country, but still, his daddy had taught him that a man’s supposed to take care of his woman. Provided you could get the woman to stay, that was.

  Shutting his mind to that line of thought, he gazed at the tiny woman in front of him. He couldn’t believe she’d actually walked a mile in labor—and in freezing temperatures. It said something about her character, and he imagined she’d need every bit of that stubbornness to get her through this night.

  He knew she was making an attempt at bravery when she tried to wave him away, but he could still see the fear. And he could identify with it, because he felt it himself.

  He also felt light-headed and wondered at the strange sensation. Why was he dizzy? The sound of his own breathing gave him his answer. He was inhaling and exhaling through Madison’s contraction, and doing a much better job of it than she, he realized.

  Ignoring her attempt to ride this one out on her own, he pried her fingers from the bedpost and stuck his face directly in her line of vision. “You’re not concentrating, sunshine, and I’m about to hyperventilate trying to do it for you.”

  She gave him the barest hint of a smile and suddenly he felt ten feet tall.

  “We can do this,” he coached. “Doc says to find a focal point, and relax and concentrate on it.”

  In between pants, she rolled her eyes.

  “Ah-ah, you’re not following the program.”

  This time her gaze locked directly with his, defiance fairly screaming. The power of that look nearly turned his knees to water. He wanted to break the eye contact, but didn’t dare for fear of spoiling her concentration. Evidently she was using him as her focal point. He didn’t think he’d ever been anybody’s lifeline like this, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it.

  “Over?” he asked when he felt her muscles relax.

  “For the moment.’’

  “Think you can make it to the bathroom to change? Or do you need help?”

  “I can manage, thanks.”

  He felt like an idiot hovering this way, but he didn’t know what else to do. The door closed with a soft click, and for a moment, Brice stood in the middle of the room, wishing he was anywhere but here. It was ten degrees outside and the bedroom held a slight chill, but Brice felt a line of sweat dampen his spine. If somebody didn’t get here soon—be he animal doctor or people doctor—Brice had the uneasy feeling he was going to have to deliver his first baby. He was out of his element and flat-out scared silly.

  But he was a man of action and normally fairly adept at hiding his emotions.

  He’d do what had to be done.

  Resigning himself to the inevitable, he gathered up extra sheets, scissors, alcohol and an impressive first aid chest he kept in the kitchen. With the ranch being so remote, he and the men did a lot of their own doctoring.

  But delivering a baby was a far cry from putting on a bandage!

  Madison stepped out of the bathroom, and if she hadn’t been so darn scared, she would have wanted to die from embarrassment. Brice DeWitt stood by the bedside, his gaze glued to the bathroom door as though he’d been impatient for her to come out.

  Lord, the guy had to be at least six foot five if he was an inch.

  “You ever go out for basketball?” Oh, what an inane thing to ask! But, dear heaven, she was standing in a stranger’s bedroom in a threadbare flannel nightgown.

  “I played some in school.”

  “And the pros didn’t snap you up?”

  There was the barest curve to his sexy lips. “Wasn’t interested. I’m a cattleman, not a jock.”

  Cattleman as in cowboy, she thought. Tall and in excellent physical condition. She noticed the breadth of his chest, the silver buckle at his waist, the scuffed, well-worn boots. It surprised her that the hem of his jeans bunched that way on his boots, nearly dragging the ground. For a man his size, she would have thought he’d have trouble finding a hem long enough.

  Another rending pain put an end to any thoughts of sexy cowboys. In an instant, he was by her side, scooping her in his arms, settling her in the bed.

  “They’re getting closer, aren’t they?”

  “Yes. I’m scared.”

  He smoothed the hair back from her damp forehead. “Everything will be fine.” His gaze wouldn’t quite meet hers when he said softly, “I’ve, uh, got to look.”

  Madison stiffened. There were several heartbeats of dead silence. She understood what he meant, but she couldn’t bring herself to a
gree. Logic warred with emotion. Then another fierce contraction made up her mind, squeezing the breath out of her.

  Fighting the pain, heart beating double time, face flaming, she nodded, slid down in the bed and raised her knees. Feeling utterly self-conscious and terrified beyond words, she stared at the blue and yellow tulips on the wallpaper, unable to look at him as he slowly lifted the hem of her gown—and encountered her cotton panties.

  His frustrated groan brought her head whipping around. Well, darn it, parading around in her nightclothes was bad enough. She’d stupidly kept the underwear on to at least preserve a shred of modesty.

  Now she realized what a big mistake that had been. Thankfully Brice turned his head as she slipped them off.

  Gently he squeezed her knee in reassurance, then draped a blanket over her bent legs.

  Tears of pain and embarrassment and gratitude over his thoughtfulness leaked from the corners of her eyes. She felt his tentative touch on her thigh and moaned.

  His hand jerked. “Am I hurting you?”

  “Everything’s hurting me.” She tried to think of anything except what he was doing...what he was seeing. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  “Probably just enough to be dangerous. No, don’t stiffen up on me. Relax.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  He heard the fear in her voice and prayed his own wouldn’t show through. “If you want to cast aspersions on the character of all men, feel free. I won’t be insulted.”

  Maddie thought of doing just that, but another pain slammed into her like a sucker punch. Intuition told her this one meant business. Brice’s muttered curse lent strength to the intuition.

  “Ready or not, here we go. I think you should push with this one, Madison.”

  She tried, she really did. It felt as though her insides and everything along with them were ripping.

  She screamed.

  Brice gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. Either she’d been in labor longer than she’d suspected, or she was one of the lucky ones who went from start to finish in record time.

  In either case, this baby was in a big hurry.

  “Come on, sunshine. We’re almost there.” He spoke in a quiet, calm voice when all the while he wanted to scream right along with her. God Almighty, he was scared spitless. “You’re doing just fine, darlin’.”

  “No!” She panted and gripped at the sheets until they ripped. “Briccccce!” His name tore from her on a rasping cry as the contraction peaked.

  Brice watched in horror and fascination as her swollen belly shifted. He wanted to soothe her, give her focus, but his eyes remained riveted on the crowning of the baby’s head. He swore to God right then and there that if the possibility existed, he’d never make a woman pregnant. No woman should have to go through this!

  “Where the hell is the doctor?” he muttered.

  “What’s wrong?” She panted. “Is there something wrong with the baby?”

  He heard the hysterical note in her voice and cursed his loose tongue. “Everything’s fine. Calm down, love,” he said softly.

  “If you say that one more time, I’m going to hit you!”

  He would have smiled if he hadn’t been so preoccupied. “When this is over, I’ll stand still and let you take your best shot. In the meantime...”

  The grandfather clock began to chime. The noise from Dick Clark’s annual New Year’s Eve countdown escalated as the apple undoubtedly began its descent in Time’s Square.

  The baby’s head was fully crowned now.

  Brice began to sweat in earnest.

  Voices on the television screamed, “Ten...nine... ”

  “Oh, man. Push, darlin’. Once more. I see the head. Oh, help!”

  ‘‘You’re doing just fine, son.”

  He nearly jumped out of his skin. Doc stood in the doorway, as did Jared Simmons, the vet. Brice wanted nothing more than to turn over the whole operation into Doc’s capable hands, but at the moment his own hands were cradling the head of a tiny child, facedown.

  “Turn it gently,” Doc coached, both he and Simmons right by Brice’s shoulder. “Pretend it’s a calf.”

  Madison’s groan mingled with the television revelers—as did Simmons’s. Calves generally dropped on their own.

  “Six...five...”

  And this was definitely no calf! He turned the baby gently as instructed, his heart pounding, and felt a tiny shoulder.

  “Three... two...”

  Cheers erupted from the TV.

  The grandfather clock drew out its twelfth chime.

  A second shoulder now, tiny, slick, incredibly soft.

  And before his astonished, stinging eyes, the baby slid right into his waiting hands.

  Brice stared in awe as the little girl let out a lusty wail.

  Looking up at Madison Carlyle, he felt a smile bathe him from the inside out, felt as though, somehow, his life would never be the same again. Powerful, possessive feelings surged through him, filling him, making him want to laugh and cry at the same time.

  “Happy New Year,” he said softly, emotion roughening his voice. “You’ve got a fine baby girl.”

  He tried to hand the squalling baby to Doc Adams, but the older man shook his head.

  “Put her on her momma’s tummy.”

  When Brice stood to obey the directive, Doc took his place at the end of the bed.

  “Glad I was here to witness the first baby of the new year,” Doc commented as Jared Simmons clapped Brice on the back. “Too bad you couldn’t make it to the hospital, missy. Would have been famous—picture in the paper and all.”

  Madison was trembling all over from the exertion of giving birth, but the doctor’s words made her shake even worse.

  The last thing she needed was publicity focused on her and her baby.

  Especially this baby.

  2

  Brice saw a hint of sadness mixed with obvious love come over Madison’s face as she stared at her baby. Something wasn’t quite right here, and he wondered about it.

  Her hair hung in limp, wet strands around a face pale with exhaustion. As he watched her tenderly stroke her tiny daughter’s downy head, his vision blurred. Was sweat dripping in his eyes? It had to be, because he sure wasn’t the emotional type.

  He started to turn away, then stopped when he felt a light touch on his hand. Madison’s eyes were shadowed with both pain and elation.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, then looked back down at her child, clearly awed, her fingers trembling as she stroked the baby’s wet cheek.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded.

  “All right you two,” Doc Adams said. “You can be patting each other on the back later. Right now we got ourselves just a bit more work to do. What’s your name, sweet pea?”

  “Madison,” Brice answered for her.

  “Maddie, if you like,” Madison said.

  “Okay, Maddie, you’re gonna feel a needle prick now. Just a little something to numb the pain. Hold on to that cowboy’s hand if you’re of a mind to. This is probably gonna smart some.”

  Brice looked down at his hands. They were a mess. He glanced around helplessly and spotted Nancy Adams hovering by her husband’s shoulder. He hadn’t seen her behind Doc and Jared. Of course he’d been a little preoccupied.

  “Uh...Nancy, maybe you could...”

  The older woman smiled and winked at him. “I never thought I’d see the day that Brice DeWitt was speechless. You go ahead and wash up. I’ll get over here and act like I’m doing my job, shall I? There now, dear,” she said, turning her attention to Madison. “We’ll have you fixed up in no time at all, then we’ll get this little daughter of yours bathed and presentable, how does that sound?”

  “Good. I wouldn’t turn down a healthy dose of morphine if you offered it.”

  Nancy laughed and expertly wrapped the baby in a blanket, then gripped Madison’s hand.

  Brice felt the need for flight. His bedroom had turned into a so
cial gathering with the doctor, nurse and vet all congratulating one another, appearing to forget about him.

  And in his bed was a strange woman.

  No, not a stranger anymore.

  After what they’d just been through together, he felt as though he’d known her for years, felt as though a bond had been forged.

  Ridiculous. He barely knew her name—or anything else about her except that she wore prissy, inadequate coats and was from the city.

  He nearly groaned. He wanted to be alone, wanted his life back to the way it was before Madison Carlyle and her baby daughter had interrupted it and turned everything upside down.

  And he didn’t particularly care for the way Jared Simmons was hovering and making jokes. Jared was a good-looking son of a gun, the most eligible bachelor in these parts—aside from Brice.

  And Brice didn’t consider himself eligible at all.

  A sour marriage had cured him from ever wanting back in that trap.

  As if in a daze, Brice made his way to the kitchen, squirted liquid soap into his callused palms and began the process of washing up. The slippery feeling of the soap reminded him of that tiny being he’d just held it his hands.

  Good God, he couldn’t believe he’d delivered a baby!

  It was a miracle, plain and simple, and it had shaken him down to his toes.

  Drying his hands on a dish towel, Brice stepped aside and made room for Nancy, who came bustling in, cooing nonsense to the crying infant in her arms.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Concern had him peering over the nurse’s shoulder. In his opinion that little baby was too darned tiny to suffer any upsets that would produce such wails of agony.

  “Not a thing in the world,” Nancy said happily. “Except this little girl is madder than all get-out. She’ll be even more so when I douse her with water.”

  Even as she said the words, the nurse put action to them, sticking that impossibly small head beneath the running faucet, lathering soap around the baby’s hair and scrubbing it with a soft brush.

  Brice felt the need to object. For God’s sake, she was tossing that infant around like it was a football or something. And wasn’t there a tender spot on the head someplace? An area you were supposed to be real careful about?