Baby Blessed
Page 18
“Would you mind a daughter?” he asked.
Molly hadn’t given the subject much consideration. She had no preference, she’d believed, but now she wasn’t so sure. Was she looking for a son to replace the one she’d lost? A son to ease the ache of her loss?
As soon as the thought went through her mind, Molly knew that wasn’t true. No child could ever replace Jeffrey. He held his own distinct place in her heart.
“All I want is a healthy baby,” she answered.
“That’s what I want, too,” Jordan assured her.
Molly turned her head to one side so she could look up at him. “Do you want this child?”
“Yes, Molly, I want this baby as much or possibly even more than I wanted Jeffrey.”
His words confused her and she wondered if she could trust him. “I want to believe you so badly,” she whispered, “but I don’t know if I dare.”
“Dare,” he whispered, kissing her temple.
When it came time for Molly to be moved into the delivery room, Jordan left her. She tried to hide how disappointed she was that he’d decided to stay away for the final stage of their child’s birth, but couldn’t.
“Don’t look so depressed,” Barbara said, patting her hand. “Your husband will be right back as soon as he’s changed his clothes.”
Molly all but wept when Jordan reappeared a few minutes later, wearing a green surgical top and pants. She didn’t realize she was crying until he wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“It won’t be long now,” Doug Anderson said.
Once everyone was in place, Molly heard Jordan and Doug chatting again. She hadn’t realized they were such good friends. Leave it to Jordan to talk golf scores with her physician. Both men were so involved in their conversation they seemed to have forgotten all about her and the baby.
“Push,” Doug urged Molly.
“What do you think I’m doing?” she snapped, then gritted her teeth and strained for all she was worth.
“I wouldn’t advise you to cross her just now,” Jordan said to his friend, and Doug laughed.
“You’re doing great,” he told her, and Jordan squeezed her hand.
This was hard, so much more difficult than she remembered.
“Molly, look, you can see the top of her head.” Jordan sounded as excited as if he’d won the lottery.
“It could be a boy,” she reminded him.
“No way,” Jordan said confidently, “that’s the hair of a beautiful baby girl. No boy would be caught with soft blond curls.”
“You don’t know that she’s going to be blonde.”
“Ah, but I do,” he said, bending forward and whispering close to her ear. “Just like her mommy.”
“Not long now,” Doug told them both.
“You said that an hour ago,” Molly reminded him waspishly.
“It just seems like an hour.”
Molly glared up at her husband. “Do you want to trade places?”
Jordan’s smile was wide. “Not on your life. I’m quite happy with my contribution to this effort.”
“This isn’t the time to joke.” No sooner had the words escaped Molly’s lips than she felt a tremendous release, followed by the husky cry of her newborn baby.
“Welcome to our world, Bethany Marie,” Doug said.
“A girl. We have a girl,” Molly whispered. She felt overwhelmed by joy. Her breathing went shallow and unrestrained tears flooded her eyes, running down her face.
“Come here, daddy, and meet your little girl,” Doug told Jordan.
Molly watched as her husband left her side. Bethany, who didn’t appear to be the least bit delighted with her new surroundings, squalled lustily while being weighed and measured. Her tiny face was a bright red as she kicked her arms and legs.
The nurse wrapped Bethany in a warm blanket and handed her to Jordan, who was sitting down. Molly watched her husband’s face as his daughter was positioned in his arms. Jordan looked down on Bethany for several seconds and then, as if he was aware of Molly’s scrutiny, looked up.
It was at that moment that Molly saw the tears rolling down Jordan’s cheeks.
Jordan crying. It must be an illusion, Molly decided. She’d never seen Jordan weep. Not even when they’d buried Jeffrey.
The tears seemed to embarrass him as the nurse lifted Bethany from his arms and carried her over to Molly. Apparently worn out by the ordeal, Bethany nestled comfortably into Molly’s embrace.
“She’s perfect,” Molly whispered when Jordan came over to stand by her bedside.
“So’s her mother.” Jordan bent to kiss her on the forehead.
Molly didn’t feel perfect. She felt exhausted. Time had lost meaning and she had no idea whether it was afternoon or evening. For all she knew, Monday could have turned into Tuesday. It was Monday when her water broke, wasn’t it?
“You were so confident we’d have a girl,” Molly said to Jordan.
He raised the back of her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I have a confession to make.” He paused. “I’ve known for weeks we were having a daughter.”
“How?” she demanded.
Jordan grinned. “Doug told me. You said you didn’t want to know, but I felt no such restraint.” He paused. “Do you mind?”
“No.” She yawned, barely able to stay awake.
“I love you, Molly. I love you more at this moment than I believed it was possible to love anyone.”
“I love you, too.”
He stroked her hair. “Go ahead and sleep—you’re exhausted. We’ll have plenty of time to talk later.”
Molly nodded. Then she sighed, completely and utterly content.
* * *
Molly might be exhausted, but Jordan had never been more wide-eyed and excited in his life. Ian was pacing the waiting-room floor when Jordan dashed through the swinging doors, still in his surgical greens.
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense!” Ian said impatiently. “I haven’t been this nervous since Molly’s mother went into labor.”
“Mother and child are doing fine.” It was payback time. For once, Jordan had the information Ian wanted—but it wasn’t in him to keep the older man guessing for long. Not when it was all Jordan could do not to shout out the wonderful news.
“Boy or girl?” Ian barked.
“You have a beautiful granddaughter.”
“A little girl.” Ian slumped down into a chair as if his legs had suddenly turned to rubber. “By heaven, a girl.
“Molly’s fine?” he asked, looking up at Jordan.
“Sleeping. You can see her for a moment, if you want.”
Recovering quickly, Ian stood and rubbed his face. “I don’t know about you, young man, but I can’t remember a more wretched night.”
Jordan disagreed. This had to be one of the most fantastic nights of his life.
“I’m headed home, and the minute I get there I’m pouring myself a stiff Scotch.” He threw his arm companionably over Jordan’s shoulders. “Care to join me?”
Jordan was sorely tempted. “Give me a rain check. I think I’ll stick around here for a while. I want to watch Bethany have her first bath. The nurse said she’d let me hold her again when they’re finished.”
Ian slapped his back affectionately. “What about you and Molly? Are you going to be all right?”
“I think so.”
“Good.” With a farewell nod, Ian left the hospital.
Jordan spent the next hour with his newborn daughter, then slipped into Molly’s room. As he suspected, his wife was still asleep. He’d intended only to stay long enough to be sure she was resting comfortably. They could talk in the morning. But he soon discovered he couldn’t make himself leave.
He felt extraordinarily happy. Tired, too, but unlike any other tiredness he’d ever experienced. Sitting beside her, he studied the face of the woman he loved, his heart full of wonder.
He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew Molly’s hand was on his head.
He’d closed his eyes, he recalled, crossed his arms against the side of the bed and leaned forward, but he hadn’t intended to rest more than five minutes.
“It seems to me,” he said, yawning, “this was where the conversation got started sometime yesterday afternoon. You asked me what I was doing here then, too.”
Her smile was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, with only one exception—when she’d held Bethany immediately following her birth.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
She didn’t answer him. “You were crying.”
The display of tears embarrassed him, but he didn’t regret them. They’d come of their own accord; he hadn’t even realized what was happening. His emotions had taken control more than once in the past few weeks.
“I’ve never seen you cry before,” she continued.
His male image had been too important for that. “I’ve done my fair share of weeping lately,” he confessed, “sitting in Jeffrey’s nursery.…”
Molly looked about to break into tears herself. They should be celebrating instead of crying, he thought, but this acknowledgment, these tears, were a necessary thing.
“I’m sorry, Molly, for being such a jerk,” he said in a low voice. “Can you forgive me?”
“Yes,” she said. “It’s past and forgotten.”
“I’ll find a way of making it all up to you. I have a lot of ground to cover, starting from the moment you found Jeffrey’s body until a few months ago.”
She smiled through her tears. “I hope you’re aware that could take some doing.”
“You could sentence me to a life term—with you.”
“Consider yourself sentenced.” She raised her arms and Jordan wrapped her in his embrace.
“You never tried to call me,” she whispered, “not even once.”
“When?”
“These past few months. I needed you the most then.”
“But you said you didn’t want to see me!” Staying away had been torment, but he’d felt he had no choice other than to abide by her wishes. Now she was telling him she’d wanted him.
Before she could explain, he reassured her. “You won’t have to worry about that happening again,” he said. “I’ve got a life sentence—of the best kind—and I’m not about to be cheated out of a single day.”
Molly smiled softly and directed his mouth to hers. “The penalty should begin soon, don’t you think?”
Jordan laughed and then his lips met hers. Being with this woman for the rest of his life wasn’t a penalty, it was a gift. The greatest gift of all.
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Debbie Macomber is a number one New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author. Her books include 1225 Christmas Tree Lane, 1105 Yakima Street, A Turn in the Road, Hannah’s List and Debbie Macomber’s Christmas Cookbook, as well as Twenty Wishes, Summer on Blossom Street and Call Me Mrs. Miracle. She has become a leading voice in women’s fiction worldwide and her work has appeared on every major bestseller list, including those of the New York Times, USA TODAY, Publishers Weekly and Entertainment Weekly. She is a multiple award winner, and won the 2005 Quill Award for Best Romance. There are more than 100 million copies of her books in print. Two of her MIRA Christmas titles have been made into Hallmark Channel Original Movies, and the Hallmark Channel has recently launched a series based on her bestselling Cedar Cove series. For more information on Debbie and her books, visit her website, www.DebbieMacomber.com.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-3905-0
Baby Blessed
Copyright © 1994 by Debbie Macomber
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