She’d made that clear that night, too.
He turned her quickly.
Small hands crept up his shoulders. Like they had the last time he’d carried her. Seven weeks and two days ago.
He looked down. The gaping hole in the step was hard to miss. She was lucky it hadn’t broken her leg long before. “Has it been weak?”
“Not that I’ve ever noticed.”
He lifted her over the steps completely. “Use the side steps until this can be fixed.”
“Aye-aye, captain.” She eyed the step, her brow furrowed. “I don’t even have the tools to do it. I’ll ask someone at work if they’ll loan me some. Rafe will know what I need; I’m sure of it.”
His damned twin would not be doing anything for Nikkie Jean if Caine had anything to say about it. She was his responsibility now.
He’d be out there first thing in the morning to fix the step himself.
Her house was older, a bit shabby, but she had mentioned having someone making repairs before she could redecorate completely. He’d check it over himself in a few minutes. Make certain it was safe for a pregnant woman. “No lead paint here, right?”
“Not that I know of. Thanks for your concern, but I’ll take care of making sure my house is safe for the kid, Caine.”
“I’ll do the same at mine. It’s already baby-proofed.”
It was the first time he’d said anything about the baby aloud. He followed her into the house.
She flipped on the light, illuminating the small living room. The kitchen was visible behind it. It wasn’t a large house; he suspected it had once belonged to a ranch hand or something, from its location and proximity to some of the other larger ranches in the county. He thought the W-Deane Ranch was somewhere nearby, too. It would be a nice little house once she finished remodeling.
It already felt like Nikkie Jean. Warm and welcoming and loving. He felt completely out of place now.
He hadn’t before.
She’d decorated with brighter colors. Girl colors, Everett would call them.
And owls. There were owl knickknacks and figurines everywhere. “You like owls.”
“They were gifts. From my friends. Jillian told me I looked like an owl once. The joke continues. I figured just go with it.”
“Jillian.”
“Your sister-in-law. Trauma nurse. She’s pitching in our softball game Saturday. Rafe’s concerned. She’s pregnant, too, you know. A week more than I am. Our babies will be the same age. They’ll grow up knowing each other. I intend for that to happen, so you’d better get used to it. I plan to make no secret with Jillian, Rafe, or Ariella about my baby. The baby will be their family, too.” She shot him a challenging look. Caine ignored it.
“You’re playing softball?” She could barely walk without the crutches. She had no business playing ball anytime soon.
“Short stop. I’m good, too.”
“You should stop.”
She sent him an arch look. One that told him he’d said the wrong thing. Again. “My team is depending on me, Alvaro. I don’t let people down when they are counting on me. It’s part of the whole honesty and commitment thing I got going on. I should be off the crutches by tomorrow. Jillian’s playing.”
“That’s my idiot brother’s fault for not stopping her.” He glared down at her. “What if you get hit by the ball? Or fall when running bases? What if you have to slide into a base?”
“Jillian’s wearing padding. I’ll do the same. And no sliding or diving. Rules have already been given. It’s a simple charity game. Slow-pitch. For W4HAV. And I’ll have a designated runner. Bum knee after everything that’s happened this week, ya know.”
It still wasn’t enough. Caine knew he was being irrational, but…she had a bruise over her eye. There was an abrasion running up her left arm. She looked like anything could blow her over at any moment. “Get a substitute.”
“There isn’t any. We’re holding onto hope that Bailey doesn’t get called in to the TSP. Or Lacy, Fin, or me to FCGH.” She shot him a look as she slipped into the kitchen and started rummaging in a cabinet. “Did you really follow me home to talk about softball? To tell me what to do? Because I don’t know if you missed the memo, but we’ve created a little Alvaro-Netorre here.” She shot him another significant look—that told him she thought he was being deliberately obtuse.
“Netorre-Alvaro.” The baby would have his last name. Caine was a traditionalist in that regard.
“Why follow tradition? We could go with Netorvaro and compromise? What’s in a name will still smell as sweet, right?”
And she was using sarcasm to keep him away.
She was so afraid of him. He saw it every time she looked at him.
Her cell rang and she grabbed it. He shamelessly eavesdropped as she spoke to the caller. A friend calling to check on her. After she disconnected, he faced her. “Do they know?”
“Yes, Jillian knows I’m pregnant. She and Izzie handled the blood draws. But they don’t know about you. No one does. Except Izzie and Annie. They were the ones here with me last night. They headed up the road to Rafe’s brother—his other brother, Travis—and his wife. They’re waiting for me to tell them you behaved. Jillian’s there. She wanted to know if the father of the baby was behaving. But I don’t think she knew it was you exactly. She would have called you by name, then. Or that damned Alvaro. Annie and Izzie aren’t big on gossiping. We can keep it that way if you prefer. There will be gossip, I’m sure. Especially if the baby resembles you. And…well…Rafe. Which the baby most likely will. I thought Jillian and I could really have some fun with that; if Jillian is willing. She might be. Jillian can be a bit wicked at times.”
Some of the chatter was coming back. Caine almost smiled to hear it. Her friend’s call had distracted her, relaxed her.
When Nikkie Jean felt safe, she chattered.
It hadn’t taken him long to figure that out. It was when she went quiet that she was the most afraid. That was when she was trying to do her best to be invisible. To not draw more hurt her way.
“I don’t give a damn about gossip.” And he didn’t. Gossip didn’t matter to him in the least. Truth did. And responsibility.
And like it or not, she’d just became his responsibility in every way that mattered. He’d been trying for weeks to apologize to her because he hadn’t liked having things end the way they had. And because he hadn’t been able to get the woman out of his head. But now? Now he had so much more he wanted to say to her. All of that would have to wait now. They had to deal with the baby first.
This woman mattered to him more than any other had since April. She had even before the baby; that had just tripled. As had his responsibility to her.
Caine did not take that lightly. He brushed a hand over her shoulder, just needing to touch her for a moment. To see if she felt real beneath his hand. He had never expected Nikkie Jean.
She stiffened beneath his hand. The look in her eyes was nothing but wariness.
“Sure about that? You’re the chief of medicine, Caine. And you screwed around with a woman you’re not married to. We know how people can be around here. It doesn’t bother me, but…your position is a bit different.” She slipped away from him. “You have to be aware of how it will look at all times. If you want to continue in hospital admin, anyway. I know how important that is for a man like you.”
Her words trailed off at the end.
He wanted to stalk her around the kitchen until he had her in one spot. Where he could see her eyes. She grabbed a pair of eyeglasses from the kitchen table and turned her back to him. “I need to take out my contacts. My eyes are burning.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He’d already called Henry on his way over and explained an emergency had surfaced. He had hours to spend with this woman.
His greatest wish was that she’d let him hold her through those hours.
He’d spent the last twenty-three hours imagining how badly she’d been hurt. That had had him on edge ev
en before her revelation.
She hobbled into a small half-bath beside the kitchen. When she returned, the glasses were purple-rimmed and twice as thick. She did look like a little cartoon owl when she blinked at him.
“How well can you see me now?” he asked softly.
“Not enough to drive with these, but I have near perfect with the contacts in. I just can’t wear the contacts all day. Don’t worry. It’s only partially hereditary. The rest of it is because of… an old injury. What do you want to do about the baby? Terminating the pregnancy is not an option for me.”
No. He hadn’t even considered suggesting it.
This might very well be the only child Nikkie Jean could ever have. She wouldn’t believe him if he said it, but that mattered to him, too. He would never deprive someone of being a parent for his own selfish reasons. “I have three other children I have to take care of. Their needs have to be put above my own. And they’ve had a few extremely not fair years. I…this will confuse them. It’ll take time to get them transitioned to this change. I need to make sure they have that time. But I’m not leaving you to go through this alone, either.”
She stared at him for a long time. “Would knowing this baby make things worse or better for them? I don’t want to see them hurt by what we did. That’s the last thing I want. I’ve been that kid, and I’ll never do it to another.”
“I don’t know yet. Keller and Everett had a hard time with their mother. She struggled with being a parent. She was in the process of divorcing me for a man almost in his sixties. Leaving the children. And she was pregnant with Dalton at the time. But the twins—Everett especially—equated her leaving with Dalton’s birth. It took them a while to bond with him and to understand that it wasn’t Dalton’s fault. I can’t undo the progress they’ve all made together.” And he didn’t know how to keep that from happening with this baby. He’d only known about the baby for an hour. How was he supposed to have all the answers after only an hour? “You’ve known for days. Did your guard dogs know yesterday?”
“Izzie and Annie. Their names are Izzie and Annie. They’re both ER nurses, but Izzie’s also a student. She wants to be a nurse practitioner. It’s taking her a while because money for her is really tight. They are the best friends I’ve ever had, Caine. In my entire life. They were with me when I had the ultrasounds. To make sure…I was afraid it was going to be cancer again. I was sure that’s what it was. The two weeks before the hit-and-run…I was sure the cancer had come back. Or I had some sort of infection. Then in the hospital I was afraid that the pregnancy wouldn’t be viable. I’d been warned before that could happen. If my eggs had been damaged by the chemo. I needed my friends, and they were there. They stayed with me until I knew. After. I had to chase them away.” She smiled as she said it. Like she hadn’t believed it was possible. “I’ve never had friends like them before. They stayed with me. With me. No one has ever stayed with me. Or for just me. They’ve already promised to help me however I need them. They’re planning to come paint the room I’m going to use as a nursery. To help me.”
“I’ll be doing that.” It was his place to be there. He’d be the one painting, and putting together the crib. Just like he had with Dalton, Everett, and Keller. He wanted to be the one to do it all—with her. For her. He wanted her to want that with him. Just how much he wanted to be a part of this woman’s life was sinking in. Rapidly. “It’s my baby, too.”
“I’m not denying that. But…I’d rather we not get dependent on you. Not long term. It would be easier that way when things go south. You do what you want with your house. But this one is mine, and I…I think it’s best if we draw the appropriate boundaries before the baby comes.”
Nothing had hurt him more since the day April had told him the baby she carried probably wasn’t his. He’d been building fantasies of more with Nikkie Jean, and she’d been thinking of ways to freeze him out. It shoved Caine ruthlessly back into his place. Fast. “Appropriate boundaries? For whom? You? This is my child, too. And I’m not just going to let you have him and not even try to be there when he needs me. Do you know what that would be like, my child being just three miles down the road? I spent six months away from Keller and Everett with the military. It was the hardest six months of my life, not knowing what was happening to them each and every day.”
“Then what do you suggest?” She looked at him and paled, right before his eyes. She trembled and stepped back. Wobbled. Fear coated every inch of her. “You’re not getting full custody. I’ll fight tooth and nail—and it won’t be pretty.”
Horror and panic in hazel eyes stabbed right into him. She shook her head and took another step back. Away from him, wobbling.
“Don’t be afraid of me, Nikkie Jean.” Caine’s hands wrapped around her arms, and he pulled her closer in an instant before she fell. Seeing this woman afraid stabbed him straight in the gut. “I’m not going to take the baby from you. Ever. I wouldn’t do that to you. But I will be a part of this child’s life. I promise you that. We’ll both do what we have to, in order to make this work. Around our careers, and across the three miles between us.”
In that instant, Caine made his decision. By the time the baby came, there would be no miles between them.
Nikkie Jean would be with him—right where she belonged. He just had to figure out how to make it work.
She shook in his arms. He waited for her hands to go around his neck or his waist or something, waited for her to give him permission to hold her. He wanted to just hold her right now. He needed that connection, and he suspected she did, too.
But she didn’t.
Nikkie Jean had drawn into herself. Away from him. Shut him out completely, to protect herself from more hurt.
He didn’t know what to do—or even what had hurt her on so deep a level that she thought having friends to see how special she was inside was such a miracle that she couldn’t fathom why they’d stayed with her in the hospital when she’d needed them most.
42
CHERISE WAS THE ONE who brought the letter. Nikkie Jean heard the car coming down the road and hurried to look out the window. Some part of her had expected it to be Caine.
His parting words the night before had been that he would be back in the morning. Well, it was eight thirty and no sign of him.
Just the little two-door car that Cherise zipped around in everywhere like a madwoman.
Nikkie Jean pushed out a relieved breath.
She wasn’t ready to deal with Caine Alvaro. Not yet.
Couldn’t he just…leave her alone for the next seven months? They could work out the whole shared-parenting details closer to time to actually be parents.
Even as she thought it she knew she was being unreasonable.
“Cheri, what are you doing here?”
“I brought you some food in microwavable containers. I know you tend to live on takeout. And I thought that would be tough right now. And…I brought you a letter.”
“A letter?” The food sounded good—Cherise often brought her some of her own leftovers when they worked the same shift. Cherise had made a giant-sized lasagna and brought it to the hospital—for Nikkie Jean’s birthday.
Jillian and Annie had pitched in for a giant sheet cake.
Lacy and Izzie had provided paper plates and forks. Wanda and Courtney had provided sodas.
It was the first and only birthday party Nikkie Jean could ever remember having.
“From your father.” Cherise didn’t cherry-coat anything. “He left it at the desk. I didn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands.”
She handed Nikkie Jean a plain envelope with the hospital emblem in the corner.
Nikkie Jean’s hand tightened on it.
“I’m not sure I want it.”
“He wasn’t sure you would.”
“What did he say?” Cherise would be the type to appeal to her father. He would feel comfortable with her. Cherise was the exact opposite of Nikkie Jean’s mother. As far as she knew, her father had alwa
ys been faithful to her mother, at least.
“He said you were probably not ready to hear what he had to say. That he was the one who let the monster in. Who hadn’t protected you.” Cherise pulled a white bag from the back of her car. Nikkie Jean limped up the steps—the side ones—aware of her friend behind her. “For what it’s worth, he seemed…tortured. Hurting. The man has some serious demons to work out.”
A wild laugh escaped. “Him and me both.”
“I just promised I’d deliver the letter. But if you want someone to talk to, I’ll listen. And it will never go past my ears.”
“I know. I’m…I can’t talk about him anymore. I already have too much this year, and I’m too raw. Especially after…seeing him again.”
“Understood, but I’m here—”
Both women turned to the drive when a familiar large-man truck pulled in.
Nikkie Jean let out an undignified squeak.
Her hair was still down around her shoulders—brushed, at least—and she was in her pajamas. She had not had time to shower yet.
She’d been waiting to see if her stomach would let her move that much yet.
The stomach in question clenched at the sight of the Roman-god look-alike climbing out of the cab.
“Well.” Cherise shot her a look, one with clear confusion. “That looks like him, but it’s not him.”
“Dr. Caine Alvaro. Rafe’s twin,” Nikkie Jean said, flatly. “Yes. He is. No. Rafe and Jillian don’t know yet. We have some things to work out.”
“I’ll say.” Cherise shot her a look of quiet humor. “At least you have great taste in beautiful men. The tool belt over his shoulder just…yeah. I think Wanda’s right—we need to do a calendar of just hot doctors as a fund-raiser. It would be a hit.”
Nikkie Jean laughed softly. There was no need to ask the other woman to keep this quiet. Cherise was discreet. Nikkie Jean trusted her.
“Thank you. I just have to figure out what I am going to do with him now.”
“I can think of a few things. I’m so glad Vince has the day off today. I think we’re going to stay in tonight…”
Lost in the Wind Page 15
