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Texas Bride

Page 14

by Kate Thomas


  His baby needed treatment and, by God, this hospital would treat him.

  He’d driven Dani’s old clunker like an Indy car through the predawn deserted streets. Just so this smug bureaucrat could turn them away? No freaking way.

  Michael was trying to cry and couldn’t...couldn’t get his breath. His face was red and bear-streaked; he struggled weakly in his mother’s arms.

  Dammit! What was wrong with this woman? With a growl, Josh thrust frustrated fingers through his hair again.

  Dani slipped between him and the admissions desk. Her scent filled his nostrils. Her hair streamed loose down her back and spilled over his arm as she handed Michael to him.

  “We’d like to see your supervisor, Ms.—” Dani leaned forward to read the ID badge clipped to the woman’s smock “—Sapperstein. Now!”

  With a disdainful sniff, the clerk disappeared through a door behind her.

  Josh’s tension level dropped half a point. “What are you planning to say to the border guard’s supervisor?” he asked with a wry, only semiforced smile. His Texas angel had bedeviled Bubba. She’d whip this hospital, too.

  “I’m not going to say anything if I can help it,” Dani replied, reclaiming Michael. “You’re the legal expert. I’m counting on you to start muttering about lawsuits and...”

  What was left of his composure threatened to disappear at her act of trust. Misplaced thrust, it appeared. He felt like David taking on Goliath—without his slingshot.

  But Dani needed him.

  And she was looking at him with her green angel eyes wide and clear. Shadowless.

  His heart swelled, exploded in his chest. Lordy, bring back the dragon in the lavender smock. He was ready to do some serious slaying.

  With one trembling finger, he touched Dani’s cheek. “I won’t let you down,” he promised when he could get words past his tonsils.

  Ms. Sapperstein appeared in the doorway behind the admissions desk. A bespectacled, bow-tied man followed her.

  “Okay, darlin’, watch this,” Josh said in quiet, firm tones as the bureaucrats approached. He gave Dani a reassuring smile. Whatever it took, Michael would get the treatment he needed. He couldn’t put another shadow in her forest eyes.

  As she eyed the bow tie-wearer, Dani placed a restraining hand on his arm. “Josh? Don’t yell—unless you have to.”

  “Spoilsport.” He touched her cheek again, rubbed his thumb lightly across her lush lower lip. Then turned to the smug little admissions clerk and her boss. “I’m Josh Walker,” he stated grimly, turning his fear for Michael’s welfare into icy resolve. “And I hope I misunderstood Ms. Sapperstein when she attempted to refuse emergency treatment to a child.”

  “Edgar Beldon,” the bow tie replied, adding primly, “And I hope you understand that All Saints is not a charity hospital.”

  Josh ran a hand through his hair as he counted to ten. By God, after he got the environment cleaned up, he was going to fix the medical services delivery system in this country.

  “That infant—” Josh said, pointed toward Dani, who now held Michael upright in front of her “—suffered smoke inhalation last night and began experiencing breathing difficulties about forty-five minutes ago.”

  Beldon touched the bridge of his eyeglasses. “He doesn’t appear to be in imminent danger. Without insurance, the—”

  “That’s it,” Josh declared, and reached across the counter to grab Beldon by his bow tie. Pulled the weasely paperpusher forward until their faces were only inches apart.

  Using his free hand to pull out his wallet, Josh tossed it on the counter. “I may still sue your as—institution, but in the interest of saving time, I am prepared to offer you unfeeling vultures something better than insurance,” he said with a wolfish smile that had the bureaucrat squirming. “Money.”

  Finally. He’d found the magic word.

  Within minutes the lavender-smocked bat was summoning a pediatric care nurse from the respiratory unit.

  “Here.” She shoved a clipboard holding a sheaf of forms at him just as the nurse arrived. “These forms must be filled out completely and returned to the cashier’s office before the patient can be discharged.”

  “I’ll fill them out later,” Josh said, trying to shove the clipboard back at the admissions clerk. “Right now, I’m going with them.” He motioned toward Dani, who’d handed Michael to the nurse in fuchsia and was following her back down the corridor.

  “I don’t care where you fill them out,” Ms. Sapperstein retorted. Then she smiled. “And I’m glad you insisted on seeing Mr. Beldon. I hate to turn away babies, but...my hands are tied.”

  As Josh accepted her apology with a mumbled thanks and headed after Dani, the woman called, “Good luck with your son.”

  He is mine—in all the ways that count.

  Josh hurried down the hall after Dani. Her shoulders were drawn in—as if bracing for a blow. Her fingers were curled into fists, but that didn’t stop their trembling. He knew without seeing it that her teeth were chewing on her lip.

  He caught up just in time to hear the nurse say, “Exposure to certain chemical emissions can cause permanent brain damage in infants this young if their respiratory systems are immature. Do you know if there were any hazardous materials in the fire? Asbestos or—”

  “How soon will we see the doctor?” Josh interrupted the doomsayer. Capturing Dani’s hand, he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  Now more than ever, she needed him. But not the gutknotting fear or panicky helplessness raging through him.

  So he shoved them behind a wall of ice. The way he had imprisoned himself in his anger for six years. At last, his suffering served a useful purpose—helping the living survive one more frightful experience.

  “We’ve already paged him,” the nurse said, pointing them to a waiting area before whirling Michael away to a room filled with high-tech gizmos.

  The waiting area, empty of people at this predawn hour, contained a blaring television, some ancient reading material, and a narrow window letting in bronzy parking lot light.

  They waited silently. Holding hands.

  Shortly after sunrise an energetic young doctor burst into their alcove, dragged them off to a torture chamber—he called it a neonatal respiratory treatment unit—and fired a couple thousand questions at first Dani, then Josh. After refusing to answer any of their questions, the young quack dismissed them abruptly and bent over Michael’s chart, muttering to himself. The baby lay on his side in a Plexiglas box, fussing and bewildered—but alive.

  They waited some more. Josh kept his sanity—barely—by focusing on the one meaningful thing he could do: take care of Dani. He found some vending machines and brought her a juice drink, made her eat something purported to be a breakfast burrito. Bullied the nursing staff into cooperating when Dani’s milk...well, overflowed.

  Hours crawled by. The shift changed. The aides, orderlies and floor clerks bustling past wore different colored uniforms, at least.

  Josh didn’t know. Didn’t care. He just wanted news of Michael. Good news.

  It didn’t come and Josh realized this was hell. Really hell.

  Because he couldn’t fix whatever was wrong. Couldn’t stop loving Michael and walk away, either. Simply had to sit here, helplessly suffering through this.

  But not alone.

  He couldn’t have done this alone.

  He wouldn’t do it for anyone but Michael. And Dani.

  Not even Carrie and the child lost to him six years ago.

  It hit him then. First like lightning striking a tree, blasting the bark off it in great strips. Then...after that initial shock of recognition, the knowledge seemed more like a deep layer of rock—solid, immutable, eons old.

  He loved Dani. His beautiful Texas angel, who brought out the best in him. He loved Michael, too. Wanted to be his father for life—even if the price was endless rounds of this debilitating worry and fear, years of lost sleep over the nameless perils of daily living....

&nb
sp; He wouldn’t go through fatherhood for anyone else. Or with anyone but Dani.

  She and Michael were his second chance. He needed them to heal his heart, to give his life meaning.

  They were his.

  Until they leave.

  No! Josh leaped from his chair, the sports section of yesterday’s newspaper that he’d been pretending to read falling from his hand. They had to stay. And not just for a few more weeks.

  “What?” Dani cried, alarmed by his sudden movement. “What is it?”

  “Oh, uh...I—I thought I saw the doc,” he said.

  “No.” She shook her head as a sigh escaped. “I’ve been watching. He hasn’t come back from the other wing yet.”

  Josh looked as if he wanted to say something more, but after a moment he shrugged those broad shoulders and subsided onto the padded vinyl seat again.

  Nothing happened for another interminable hour.

  The waiting—with cold dread knotting her stomach and helpless fear immobilizing every muscle—became familiar. Was familiar. She’d lived with similar terror gripping her like a tiger’s talons during Jimmy’s final hours in the hospital.

  She wanted to scream and throw things, of course, but she knew how useless that would be. So, instead, she folded her hands in her lap and kept waiting.

  “How can you be so calm?” Josh growled suddenly.

  Because you’re with me. She would never have survived these hours of helpless waiting without Josh’s solid strength and steadfast care.

  Right after the doctor had dismissed them, Josh had even let her press her face to the shirt covering his hard, muscular chest and cry tears that didn’t change anything—although getting them out made her feel better.

  Dani glanced at Josh. Holding each other didn’t seem to make him feel better, though.

  His jaw was granite again, his handsome features darkened into a scowling mask—he didn’t look exactly comforted.

  “As long as he’s alive, there’s hope,” she insisted.

  “I... God help me,” he whispered brokenly, running his hand over his unshaven jaw. His golden hair was disheveled, his turquoise eyes suspiciously moist. “I want to be strong for you, Dani. For you and Michael, but I...I don’t know how much more I can take!”

  He stood and began pacing the waiting area, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his rumpled dress slacks. “All those years I lived with the pain of losing the child Carrie denied me and it was...only an idea that never got a chance to become real.

  “But, Michael... I’ve held him, bathed him, played with him. I know how he smells. I’ve rocked him to sleep.... Oh, Dani, what if—I mean—God, Dani, how do people survive this? Even if he’s okay this time, kids just keep...”

  “Being kids,” Dani finished for him with a rueful smile. “That’s the problem with life. It’s dangerous.” And always too short.

  And only love made it worth the struggle.

  She looked into the depths of her companion’s tired, concerned turquoise eyes and couldn’t sugarcoat reality for him. Or for herself, either. “But bad things can happen, Josh. Dreams die. P-people die. Even chil—”

  “Shh.” Josh pressed her head into the angle between his neck and his shoulder, held her while she soaked his shirt again. “Whatever happens,” he promised, “we’ll handle it together.”

  And that was all anyone could ask for. Someone to share the joy and the pain, the hope and the fear that measure life.

  The only someone she wanted was the man she’d fallen in love with, the man she couldn’t have. Josh Walker.

  “Are you Michael Caldwell’s parents?” A youngster in a labcoat stood before them.

  “Yes.” They both stood and Dani clasped Josh’s hand.

  “How...how is he?” Josh asked, his fingers squeezing hers.

  The kid fiddled with her stethoscope. “I’m Dr. Davila,” she announced, then smiled. “And Michael is hungry.”

  Josh almost fainted with relief. Dani hugged the doctor—who grinned. “We also think he’s lactose intolerant,” she said, leading them out of the waiting area. “The smoke exposure makes it difficult to be absolutely sure without additional tests, but—”

  “You mean, he’s allergic to milk?” Josh asked as he halted both women in front of the crowded central nursing station.

  “Cow’s milk,” Dr. Davila amended, still grinning. “Seems to be flourishing on mother’s. We suggest you have him tested at a later—”

  Josh quit listening. Michael was okay.

  He picked Dani up and kissed her. Soared to heaven as usual—right there with an All Saints audience.

  Chapter Nine

  “You have to stop doing that,” Dani said shakily some forty minutes later as they drove away from the hospital.

  “What?” Josh grinned. He couldn’t help himself. A gloriously healthy Michael slept in his car seat. And Michael’s mother had participated enthusiastically in their embrace, at least for a while.

  “Kissing me.” Dani answered. “Especially in public. It—People might get the wrong idea.”

  “Whatever you say, honey,” Josh agreed absently as his favorite fantasy floated across his consciousness. Dam, above him, her magnificent hair tumbling free, brushing over his...

  She’s not going to marry you to fulfill your fantasies, doofus, he reminded himself sternly.

  “I’m not your honey, either, Josh.”

  Her protest sounded more tired than angry, and he wasn’t ready to argue the issue now, anyway.

  Soon, though. Very soon. When the right moment came along, Josh intended to propose.

  Meanwhile he mumbled something placatory, then dropped her and Michael off at the bed-and-breakfast with orders to rest, and headed for the office to grab the extra set of court-appearance clothes he kept there. Got caught again by phone calls from Cleveland.

  After supporting the telecom industry for a couple of hours, Josh returned to the Colonial mansion and caught a nap while Dani and the owners sat on the front porch, schmoozing about breakfast casseroles. That evening, he took Dani and the miraculous Michael shopping for a few necessities, since they were still barred from the town house.

  The B and B owners agreed to let them stay another night—in separate rooms, dammit. The following day was spent supervising the professional cleaning crew provided by the town homes’ management. Even Josh knew that wasn’t the right time or place for a proposal.

  And the next damned day, he was summoned to court on some stupid landmark case.

  Damn these federal judges with their sweeping powers and their lousy timing. He needed to propose! To offer...

  What, big shot? Josh asked himself as he sat in his office brooding the afternoon away. Reinholdt had called an indefinite recess so he could research a citation the defendant’s mouthpiece had tossed in to support some spurious objection.

  He wanted Dani and Michael in his life. Permanently.

  That left just one little, tiny problem, though. How to make them want him around full-time.

  Hey—persuasion’s my game, he reminded himself as his excitement—and its male corollary—began rising. As usual. I just have to put together an offer she can’t refuse.

  Josh rubbed a hand thoughtfully over his jaw. He needed something more than promises as an enticement, though. Dani certainly knew that promises could be broken.

  He’d better offer something other than love, too. She’d had that. And after all these years of stupid, bitter refusal to feel anything, maybe he wouldn’t be very good at loving—even a woman as special as Dani. His experience with Carrie had certainly taught him that willingness wasn’t enough.

  Stick to tangibles, then.

  Let’s see... He had a house and furnishings that still reeked of smoke. A postage-stamp backyard that wasn’t big enough for a toddler, let alone a kid—who’d soon need a decent-size dog, too. And he drove an old car that, even though it ran like a top now, was, well...cosmetically challenged.

  Josh looked aro
und the office, vainly hoping to see something, anything, that indicated he had a quality or two that Dani might value.

  His spirits sank. Nothing but debris.

  Picking up the nearest coffee cup, he peered inside. Jeez—there was gray-green fuzz growing on the bottom of it. Grimacing, he put it down, wondering if the second chance Dani’s rescue had given him had any chance at all.

  Face it, Walker, you’re not much of a bargain as a husband. You can’t blame Dani if her current interests revolve around Michael and cooking for strangers.

  Well, okay, he’d do the best he could and hope it was good enough.

  He’d try to be neater and he’d find a house with a big yard for Michael and a big kitchen for her. He’d trade the clunker for a van and do whatever else he could to help Dani get that feed-the-workaholics business off the ground.

  Or stay home and raise Michael. Whatever she wanted.

  Of course, he wanted as many of Dani’s kids as she’d give him and the very concept of conceiving them with her made him hard. But he wouldn’t ask for another baby. He didn’t need one. Not as long as he could be around—with Dani—while Michael grew up.

  Dammit, he needed Dani. To give his life meaning. To flavor his days. To heat his nights.

  He’d do everything in his power to make her happy. And he’d love her with every beat of the heart she and Michael had healed—

  Josh sighed. He just didn’t think it would be enough. Most women wanted some romance with their marriage and he didn’t have the slightest idea how to be romantic. Maybe he could call his sister-in-law for some pointers. Annie would help him out—once she stopped laughing herself silly:...

  With a frustrated growl, Josh moved a pile of articles on grassland reclamation costs so he could drum his fingers on the cleared desktop space. What he really needed was some... leverage.

  How about a trip to Paris for our honeymoon, so she can enroll in that world-famous blue cooking school?

  Marletta appeared in the doorway, wearing her school principal’s frown.

  “What?” he asked, frowning back. Dammit, he’d asked not to be disturbed for anything short of a judicial summons, which he really didn’t expect until tomorrow. Cases in Reinholdt’s court always dragged.

 

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