“The diner that Polish guy runs?”
“Hungarian. Laszlo’s place.”
“Blond waitress,” Bill said, frowning into the eyepiece. “You don’t mean the one that’s pregnant, do you?”
“Yeah. Maggie.”
“I didn’t know you went in for pregnant women.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it? You’ve been eating there practically every day since we started this gig. What happened? Didn’t she like the tip you left her?”
“She had her baby tonight.”
Now Bill did lift his head, peering at Del over the telescope. “You’re kidding.”
“She went into labor right there at the coffee shop. She held my hand during the contractions. I doubt if she realized how hard she was gripping.”
“So you were there?”
“That’s right.”
“Geez, what a place to have that happen. The ambulance would have needed to use the sidewalk to get through the traffic.”
“The ambulance got there too late. I delivered the baby.”
“Holy—” Bill removed his pipe and pointed the stem toward Del. “You delivered a baby?”
“Yes. It was a girl.” He paused. “She has blond hair and blue eyes just like her mother.”
“Are they all right?”
“They’re both doing fine.”
“Good God, what do you know about delivering babies?”
“There wasn’t that much I needed to know. It was Maggie who did the work. All I really did was catch.” He thought about the look of sheer wonder that had lit up Maggie’s face when she’d gazed at her daughter for the first time. He cleared his throat, surprised at the sudden thickness he felt there. “Bill, it was incredible.”
“If you say so.”
“I was the first person to touch that child. She took her first breath while I held her in my hands.” He turned his palms upward. “I actually saw the exact moment when she filled her lungs with air.”
“And you said she’s all right? She’s healthy?”
“That’s what the paramedics said. She has all her fingers and toes. And she’s not too small, either. She felt like she weighs about the same as a nine-millimeter Colt submachine gun with a thirty-two round clip.” He smiled with satisfaction. “That would put her at over six pounds. Not bad for a few weeks early.”
Bill shook his head. “I just can’t believe this.”
“Did I mention her eyes were blue? She looked right at me, and her eyes hardly crossed at all.”
“Maggie?”
“The baby. That’s pretty smart for a newborn. She’s going to be a bright kid.”
“Listen to yourself,” Bill said, chuckling. “This really got to you, didn’t it?”
“It was an experience I’ll never forget. I felt…privileged to be there.”
“Privileged? I would have been scared spitless.”
That made Del laugh. Bill might look like a harmless middle-aged professor, but he was as stolidly fearless as a bulletproof vest. Del couldn’t think of anyone else he’d rather have covering his back in a tight situation. “Yeah, right.”
“You think I jest?” Bill asked. “I’d rather juggle six pounds of Semtex with a nitro fuse than take on an infant.”
“You’d like this infant,” Del said. “She’s a feisty little thing, just like her mother.”
“Spoken just like a proud papa.” Still chuckling, Bill put his pipe in his mouth and returned to the telescope.
The shaft of pain took Del off guard. Papa? No, not him. Holding Maggie’s child would be as close as he would ever get to that. His grin faded.
“And speaking of the papa, where is the bastard?” Bill asked.
“From what I heard around the coffee shop, Maggie hasn’t seen him since last Christmas.”
“She’s going after him for child support, isn’t she?”
“Not that I know of. She seems determined to manage on her own.”
“Poor kid. She’s going to have a rough time, raising that baby by herself.”
That was true. Maggie had been working double shifts in order to save up money for the baby. It was going to be a struggle for her to cope. Ideally, a child should have two parents, a mother and a father, a team.
Maggie was intelligent enough to be aware of the problems she faced. Her persistent good humor wasn’t from ignorance of what lay ahead, it was from determination to make the best of it. She was a remarkable woman.
Scowling, Del went over to pick up the metal case he’d left on the equipment shelf. There was no point dwelling on Maggie. He had already gotten more involved in her life than he should have. And he shouldn’t let himself get carried away by those feelings her baby had stirred. He’d left all that behind when he’d joined SPEAR.
He opened the case and gazed at the gleaming pieces of wood and metal that were nestled in the pockets of foam rubber. With an ease of motion that was as practiced as breathing, Del assembled the components into his custom-made sniper’s rifle. When it was done, he held the weapon in his hands, his fingers fitting themselves around the familiar shape.
Like all the other operatives in the top-secret government agency of SPEAR, he accepted whatever assignment he was given and went wherever he was posted. It made no difference whether it was deep infiltration or simple surveillance, he did his job. But his specialty, the real talent that had brought him to the attention of SPEAR in the first place, was his uncanny ability with a rifle. He was the agency’s best sharpshooter, the one they called in for the impossible shot.
This was who he was, Del thought. This was what he did. He was proud of his skill. With this rifle and the right setup, he could shoot the weapon out of a terrorist’s hand or disable any getaway vehicle. He knew all the vulnerable spots on everything from a Learjet to a so-called bulletproof limo, and for those special occasions when no other option was open to him, he knew, too, within a millimeter how closely a bullet had to graze a man’s skull in order to knock him out.
He had a perfect record—in his eight years with the agency, he hadn’t taken a single life.
Yet even as he felt the familiar weight of the rifle in his hands, he remembered how these same hands had cradled Maggie’s baby. Instead of smooth wood and cold metal, he felt the slippery, shaved-velvet softness of the newborn’s skin. And as he settled himself at his post to one side of the window, his mind kept returning to the back room of the diner and the sight of Maggie’s tears as he’d placed her daughter in her arms.
His presence at the birth had been nothing but a fluke. He shouldn’t want to see them again, or worry about how they were doing, or wonder how Maggie was going to manage on her own. He had no business thinking about either Maggie or her baby.
That’s what he told himself, anyway. Yet over the next few hours, he failed to get his thoughts of her out of his head.
After what he and Maggie had shared, how could he shrug the whole thing off and go on as if nothing had happened? That’s what the baby’s father had done, turning his back on Maggie at the time she needed him most. Granted, it wouldn’t be wise for Del to get further involved, but it was only natural for him to feel a certain amount of responsibility for Maggie and her baby’s welfare.
It wouldn’t do any harm to check on them. That would be the decent thing to do, wouldn’t it?
“‘Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace.’”
At Bill’s murmured comment, Del swallowed a sigh.
From Milton to Shakespeare’s Macbeth? It was going to be a long night.
Maggie ran her index finger over the back of her baby’s hand, marveling yet again at the tiny perfection of her daughter. Perfect little nails, perfect pink dimpled knuckles, absolutely perfect. Not even one day old, yet already her presence filled the room. Heck, more than the room, it filled Maggie’s entire life.
“I love you, sweetheart,” she whispered, moving her hand to the baby’s head. She ran her fingertips o
ver the wispy blond curls, inhaling deeply as she absorbed the warm, fresh baby scent that rose from her scalp. “I love you so much. Every day, for the rest of my life, I want you to know that.”
The baby’s mouth pursed in her sleep. Maggie didn’t even consider putting her down in the plastic-sided bassinet that rested beside the hospital bed. After those long months of anticipation, she didn’t want to squander one minute of the chance to hold her baby in her arms.
For what had to be the hundredth time that day, Maggie felt her eyes brim with tears. Had she thought the mood swings of pregnancy were bad? Now her body was bubbling with postpartum hormones. All she had to do was look at her child and the happiness simply overflowed.
“My child,” she said, marveling at the way the word tasted on her tongue. She’d had months to prepare for this, but she was still trying to wrap her mind around the concept. Nothing she had read or heard could possibly have prepared her for this feeling that was growing in her heart.
Maternal love was no myth. Her child was no longer connected physically to her, but another, far stronger bond had already formed. It was an emotional tie that no doctor’s shears could cut.
Loving Alan had been a mistake. She had been seduced by his smooth talk and clever hands and her own dreams of a husband and family. When she had discovered she was pregnant, she’d been overjoyed. He hadn’t. That’s when she discovered he already had children…and a wife.
Yes, Alan had been a mistake, but Maggie could never regard her baby as one. This child was a gift.
Sniffing hard, Maggie turned her head to wipe her eyes against the pillowcase, stirring up the boiled cotton smell of the bedding. Normally, she hated hospitals. She did her best to avoid them after spending so much time in them as a young girl. Strangely enough, though, she didn’t feel a breath of uneasiness now. The bad memories had been swept away by a tidal wave of good ones.
The other bed in the double room was empty. The woman who had occupied it had gone home this morning, along with her new son. Her husband and their other two children had come to fetch them—it had been a giddy, noisy celebration as they’d needed to take two trips to carry all the flowers and gifts to their car. They had all waved to Maggie and wished her well, then disappeared into the corridor, a cloud of bright foil balloons bobbing behind them.
Someday, it would be nice to belong to a family like that. A houseful of children to lavish with love, a husband to share her hopes and dreams…deep in her heart, that’s what Maggie really wanted.
Someday. But not today. Today—right now—was what mattered. That was Maggie’s approach to life. It was how she had learned to cope. As the old proverb went, the longest journey begins with a single step. And at this moment, Maggie had never been happier.
“You and me, sweetheart,” she murmured. “We’ll have more love between the two of us than a family of ten, you’ll see.” She dried her cheek against the pillow again, then focused on her baby’s features one by one. Sweetheart. Pumpkin. Darling. Her daughter was almost a day old. She really should settle on a name.
“Who do you look like?” she mused. “You have a mouth like a rosebud. Shall I call you Rose? Rose Rice?”
The baby waved her fist in a jerky movement, bumping herself in the nose. Her forehead wrinkled briefly.
“Okay, not Rose,” Maggie said. “Maybe I should call you Buttercup, because of your hair. It’s a beautiful color.” She tilted her head and smiled. “No, don’t worry, I wouldn’t saddle you with a name like that. How about…Angel. My little gift from heaven. Angel. Angela.” She sighed. “No, that makes me think of the Angela who lived next door when I was six. She used to trap cats in the garbage cans.”
Yawning widely, the baby relaxed into the crook of Maggie’s arm.
“Maybe I should call you Jewel,” she said. “Because you’re so precious.”
There was a quiet rap on the door. Maggie glanced up. When she saw who it was, she felt another spurt of tears.
This was crazy. It didn’t seem to take much to set her off, but the mere glimpse of the man in the doorway made her heart turn over.
But maybe it wasn’t that crazy. After all, he’d been the one who had shared the most incredible experience of her life. He’d held her daughter even before she had. Until yesterday, when he’d been nothing more than an attractive face and a good tipper, she had been uncomfortable with her reaction to him. Today she couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather see.
Smiling, Maggie motioned him into the room with a nod. “Hi, Del.”
“Hello, Maggie.” He paused in the doorway, pushing his hands into the pockets of his navy windbreaker. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“No, not at all.”
“I was in the neighborhood and I just wanted to check on how you were doing.”
“I’m fine. Great, in fact.”
His gaze went over her features, missing nothing. Apparently satisfied, he moved his gaze to the baby. “How is your daughter?”
“Wonderful. Perfect. Amazing.” She tipped her head again. “Come and see.”
He wavered. For a man who normally appeared so sure of himself, his hesitancy was…appealing. “She’s asleep,” he said.
“She’s beautiful when she’s asleep, isn’t she?”
“I wouldn’t want to wake her up.”
“I wish you would. Then you’d be able to see how beautiful she is when she’s awake.”
The skin around his eyes crinkled into the beginnings of a smile. “And that’s a completely objective opinion, right?”
“Of course. Anyone can see that she’s the most beautiful baby ever born.”
He moved to the side of the bed. He hesitated again, then looked at the child in her arms. “You’re right,” he said softly. “She’s something else.”
“She has lots of hair for a newborn, too. Isn’t it a gorgeous color?”
“Outstanding. Definitely outstanding.”
“She’s six pounds, seven ounces. That’s a good weight for being early. She doesn’t need to stay in an incubator or anything.”
“That’s great.”
“Actually, she might not have been all that early. My doctor suspects I might have miscalculated my dates.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Laszlo was right. I should have quit working earlier. It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble.”
“You had no control over that, Maggie. Your baby decided it was time to be born.”
“Del?”
He glanced up. “Yes?”
She swallowed hard, determined not to be a watering pot. “Thank you. For helping me. I know we’re practically strangers, and it must have been an awful shock for you, and I’m sorry for putting you through all of that, but…” She took a deep breath, knowing no words were adequate but needing to express her gratitude anyway. “Del, I want you to know I appreciate everything you did. The way you delivered my baby, the way you stayed with me until the ambulance came. You went way past being a Good Samaritan. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.”
He regarded her in silence. Gradually, the lean lines of his face relaxed. The smile that played around the corners of his eyes spread to his lips. “Maggie, I should be the one thanking you. It was a privilege to share in your daughter’s birth. I’ll never forget it.”
“Oh, Del,” she said, her chin trembling.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. That was such a lovely thing to say.”
“You’re crying.”
“It’s the hormones. I can’t seem to stop.”
He took his hands from his pockets and grabbed a fistful of tissues from the box on the tray table. As matter-of-factly as he helped her the day before, he dabbed the tears from her cheeks. “The tears are nothing to worry about. I heard that every time my sister went through this, my brother-in-law ordered tissues by the case.”
“I’m just so—” Her voice caught on a sob. “So happy.”
“I have to confe
ss the whole business left me a little choked up myself.”
“Crazy, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” They smiled at each other for a moment. Then he pushed his hand into his windbreaker pocket and withdrew a black and white object. “Here. I brought this for the baby.”
“What…” She looked at the toy on his palm, then picked it up with her free hand. It was a velveteen panda bear with big blue embroidered eyes, a black velvet nose and a pink satin bow tied around its neck. “Oh, it’s adorable!”
“The lady in the store said it would be safe for an infant if you removed the bow. There aren’t any other parts that could come off, and the bear’s washable, too.”
“She’ll love it. I love it. Thank you, Del. That was so sweet.” Her chin trembled again.
Before the tears could fall, he had a tissue poised and waiting.
Sniffing, she set the toy on the tray table and took the tissue from Del. “Thanks again. You must think I’m an idiot.”
“No, I think you’re a mother who loves her daughter very much.”
Shaking her head, she gave a watery laugh. “If you keep saying things like that, I’ll never stop crying.”
“Sorry.”
“No, no. I don’t mind. I’m savoring every second of this. Honest.” She wadded up the tissue and tossed it toward the wastebasket. “But you really didn’t have to bring anything—”
She drew in her breath as she caught sight of the back of his hand. The skin from his knuckles to his wrist was an angry, shiny red scattered with painful-looking gouges. “Oh, my gosh. What happened? Oh, no. Did I do that?”
“It’s nothing. I burned myself last week, that’s all.”
“How?”
He waited half a beat before he answered. “An accident at work.”
“An accident?”
He lifted one shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “A coffeepot broke.”
“I’m sorry, I hadn’t noticed yesterday,” she said, her gaze on the injured skin. “And you let me hold your hand. I’m so sorry, Del. That must have hurt.”
“Maggie, compared to what you went through, I barely noticed,” he said easily.
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