Righteous Lies (Book 1: Dancing Moon Ranch Series)

by Patricia Watters

  "Honey, you're exhausted, you're in pain, and you're scaring the hell out of me," Jack said. "The doctor told me the epidural would let you relax enough so your cervix could finish dilating. Right now you're too tense during contractions for it to happen."

  "But I wanted to do this all natural. No drugs. No epidural. No episiotomy. And now..."

  "Now you need something to relax you so Adam can have a smooth ride home," Jack said. "Do it for him. Do it for our son."

  For some reason, Jack's words made it seem right. Grace gave him a faltering smile, and said, "I guess you can tell the nurse that—" Another contraction hit.

  Forty-five minutes later, when Grace finally reached nine centimeters, the anesthesiologist came in to administer the epidural, and after that the pains gradually decreased. Within an hour, a nurse came in to check, and said, "You're at ten and ninety percent effaced. It's time to go to the delivery room and have a baby."

  In the delivery room the doctor told Grace to start pushing, which made her very anxious. She'd failed at pushing before. If it didn't work this time, she'd have to have the C-section.

  Seeing her worry, Jack took her hand, raised it to his mouth and kissed it, and said, "We're going to have our baby, one way or another, honey. You're doing fine."

  And she started pushing again...

  But now, when the contractions came, she felt no pain.

  Jack kept looking from her to what the doctor was doing, and Grace knew he was uncertain whether to stay where he could hold her hand and look at her, or watch the progress below. She relieved his mind by saying, "I'm fine, no pain. Go watch your son come into the world."

  Jack squeezed her hand and replied, "You sure, honey?"

  "Very sure," Grace said. Then she looked over her belly and said to the doctor, "Would it be possible for my husband to catch our son when he comes? He's was planning on doing it when I was going to have him at the birthing center at home. It would mean a lot to both of us."

  The doctor looked at her, and replied, "We'll have to wait and see."

  "But there's a chance he could?" Grace ventured.

  The doctor smiled. "If your son doesn't pull any surprises, yes."

  Feeling a sense of relief, Grace started pushing... And pushing... And pushing. But the baby still seemed to be stuck. She heard the doctor mumbling something to Jack about the head being positioned at an odd angle, but she didn't have time to dwell on that because the contractions were coming fast, and there wasn't much break between pushes...

  And then she heard the doctor announce, "He's coming."

  And Jack say, "He's got hair!"

  Which made Grace laugh. Most of the babies in her family were born bald.

  "He's okay," the doctor said. "Normal. Face down. Move on over, Dad," he said to Jack, "and get ready to receive your son." Grace saw the doctor glide over on his stool and Jack move in place, and although she wanted to rest, the doctor said to her, "Keep pushing, he's almost out... one more push..." And then it was over...

  "Oh, my God," she heard Jack say. "He's perfect." And when he looked at Grace, she saw tears streaming down Jack's face.

  And then she heard her baby cry... One of the most incredible moments of her life...

  The nurse took him from Jack's hands and placed him on Grace's chest, while the doctor clamped the cord and removed the cord blood with a syringe for placing it in the blood bag for the lab. After the doctor was through, he said to Grace, "One more push. You still have a placenta to get rid of..."

  But Grace barely remembered pushing because Jack was back holding her hand and saying to her, "He's perfect, honey. Just like you said. A perfect baby Adam. And he's definitely well hung." He smiled broadly.

  "Men!" Grace said, and grinned up at Jack.

  While the doctor stitched her up—Grace never knew when he did the episiotomy—the nurse suctioned and cleaned the baby, then weighed and measured him, announcing, "Ten pounds, four ounces... twenty-two inches long. And his name?" The nurse looked at Grace and waited.

  Grace hoped Jack wouldn't object to the middle name she'd added, as she said, "Adam Jackson Hansen," then smiled at Jack, who gave a little wink of approval.

  A few minutes later, when the nurse handed Grace a baby wrapped in a warm flannel blanket, beautiful and alert, and with a full head of dark hair, and Grace saw the expression on Jack's face as he smiled down at his newborn son, Grace knew it was all worthwhile, that she'd do it again in a heartbeat.

  ***

  With Adam latched onto Grace's breast and Jack sitting by the bed, Grace pressed the speaker button on her hospital phone so Jack could hear her sister, Justine's, response when she learned about the baby, and that she and Jack were married. She hadn't told anyone about that. She'd explained about the sperm mix-up six weeks before, but told Justine nothing about Jack. Justine didn't need to know that he was drop-dead gorgeous...

  "An immaculate conception," Justine mused. "You always did do everything right, Gracie. Some women wait until they're married before having sex, but you waited until you had the baby. What's he like?"

  "He's perfect," Grace exclaimed, gazing down at Adam. "Black hair, big eyes, the sweetest little face you'll ever see."

  "I'm not talking about the baby, Gracie. I'm talking about his father."

  Grace looked at Jack, still wearing blue scrubs, hair mussed, two-day old beard, looking much as he had the first day she'd seen him at the fertility clinic, except now his fingernails were scrupulously clean, and said, with an ironic smile, "He's okay, I guess. You know how I'm attracted to nerds. I doubt you'd give him a second glance."

  "Which means horn-rimmed glasses and a book tucked under his arm. I get the picture," Justine said, amusement in her voice.

  "Something like that," Grace replied, imagining Jack in boots with spurs, and wearing a snug-fitting western shirt and faded jeans, and chaps buckled around his hips, and that pouch of denim poking out to remind her he was, without doubt, very well-hung...

  "I'll be down to check him out next week," Justine said. "And the baby too. And I'm glad for you, Gracie. If you're happy with the man, that's fine with me."

  Grace hung up, feeling a little smug that she had a husband who would knock the socks off Justine. That, followed by growing apprehension that Justine might turn Jack's head, not in a threatening way, but one of appreciation, and maybe comparison. Justine was every bit as beautiful as Lauren. But even though Grace had known Jack for less than two months, she knew he'd never break his wedding vows.

  She had to brace herself before calling her parents though. They'd managed to adjust to the sperm switch, and the uproar of her having the baby of a dead man was a moot point. But now they'd have to come to terms with the fact that she was married to the seedy-looking cowboy they'd met at the ranch.

  "Okay, here goes," she said. "Just don't be offended by anything they say. Anything my mother says, that is. My father will be in the background as usual. But you'll understand why I didn't want my mother staying with me after my baby was born the first time... when he was still my baby... and Marc's, that is... before he became your baby and everything got too complicated to explain to them—"

  "Honey, just call."

  "Yes... well... here goes..."

  Grace's mother picked up the phone on the second ring. "Hi Mom," Grace said. "I just wanted to let you and Dad know that I had the baby and married the father. Well, I married the father first then had the baby. His name is Adam, the baby's name that is. The father is Jack. And the baby weighs ten-pounds-four-ounces and is twenty-two inches long and has big hands and big feet and a head of dark hair." There, it was done.

  After total silence, while Grace waited for her mother to digest what she'd heard, her mother said, in a cautious voice, "Grace, did you say you married the baby's father?"

  "Yes, just before we left for New Jersey," Grace replied. "Jack suggested it and I agreed. So your grandson is legitimate."

  "Did you say New Jersey, Grace?"

&n
bsp; "I told you about the umbilical cord blood transplant, Mom," Grace said. "I'll explain later. Right now I'm nursing the baby."

  "Is the father there with you... now, while you're doing that?"

  "Of course, Mom. He's my husband."

  "But he's a cowboy."

  "Yes."

  "You don't ride," her mother stated the obvious.

  "I did at camp," Grace replied.

  "Does he... do all that rodeo stuff?" Definitely negative vibes coming through.

  Grace looked at Jack, who smiled and nodded, enjoying the exchange. "Yes. Bull riding, calf roping. The works. He's a cowboy, Mom."

  "Oh." Silence.

  "Mom?"

  "Well... yes, this is all very sudden, Grace. I really don't know what to say."

  "That's a first. But it's all okay. He's good to me. Talk to you later, Mom. My son needs another quart of milk" She hung up before more questions could get through.

  She moved Adam to the other breast. After he clamped on, Adam let out a little soft moan, and soon he closed his eyes and smacking sounds could be heard.

  Jack smiled. "He's a real chow hound," he said, eyes on his son. "You doing okay with this?"

  "Not exactly," Grace said. "Every time he latches on he acts like it's his last meal."

  Jack stroked Adam's soft hair as he nursed, then moved his hand to Grace's breast and held it there, and said, "I'm proud of you, honey, proud of everything you did in there. And now seeing you like this." His hand remained on her breast.

  "You mean like Dolly Parton?" Grace said, more aware of Jack's hand on her breast than the baby on her nipple.

  "No, like Adam's mother. Your breast feels hard so you must be uncomfortable with so much milk, and you could let the doctor give you something to dry you up, but you're not." He removed his hand from her breast.

  Grace looked up at Jack, and said, "What I need is another baby. I still want Marc's baby. Susan doesn't want him and there's this little empty place in my heart for the baby I set out to have." She brushed her finger over Adam's soft round cheek and he stopped sucking and looked up at her. She smiled and said to Jack, "You're right. He's absolutely perfect, and he's going to look just like you, which makes me very happy." She looked at Jack then, and added, "And if you say he's well hung, I guess that's good too."

  "It is. He'll appreciate it later," Jack said. "And speaking of that... I read the book on circumcision and watched the DVD."

  "And?"

  "Maybe we'll wait some," Jack said. "I want to find out more."

  "Everything was pretty much laid out in the book and on the DVD," Grace said. "What more do you need to know?"

  "If it really makes a difference in bed."

  And there was only one way he could find out, Grace realized. But that was still a few weeks away. And she was becoming increasingly anxious to prove the survey wrong.

  ***

  After Susan and Sam finished at the cord blood bank, where they took Ricky to have his blood drawn for testing, they stopped by the hospital to see Adam, who was asleep in a hospital infant crib beside Grace's bed. Sam patted Jack on the back, as Jack sat looking into the crib, and said, "You have your boy now, bro. He's a fine little guy."

  Jack reached over and touched Adam's cheek, and Adam gave a little sleepy smirk, which brought a smile to Jack's lips. "Grace did all the work," he said. "All I did was deposit sperm in a cup." He smiled at Grace and winked.

  Grace looked beyond Jack and saw a nurse standing in the doorway, with a very curious look on her face. "Well, you may have gotten off easy up to this point," Grace said, "but your job is just beginning. You get to tell him all about boy things... the facts of life and all that stuff."

  Until now, Susan hadn't said anything. Then she went up to stand by the bed, and said to Grace, "You're so lucky it's all over. He's a real sweet baby."

  "Yes, he is," Grace said, looking through the clear plastic walls of the crib at her son. "He already reminds me of Jack, with that mop of dark hair. And look at the size of those hands. And five perfect little fingers on each." Grace reached inside the crib and lifted Adam's little hand and held it, and her heart filled with love. And when she looked at Jack and saw him watching her, she felt as if he might be starting to love her a little too...

  A light knocking in the doorway caught their attention. A man, with an emblem on his gray shirt, with the insignia of the lab that would be preparing the cord blood for transplant, stepped into the room. Already knowing who Sam and Susan were, he introduced himself to Grace and Jack as a representative from the blood bank, and said, "Your son's blood kit is at the lab and technicians are running tests for viability and to determine if there's a close enough match for a transplant. If there is, the cord blood cells will be processed for transplantation. We believe there's an excellent chance since you men are identical twins."

  Susan looked at the man, her fingers laced together above, but not touching, her belly, and said, "When will we know?"

  "We'll know by tomorrow," the man said. "But there's also a chance there won't be enough stem cells in the cord blood to engraft. We can manipulate the stem-progenitor cells in the lab with a goal of increasing their numbers, but it has to match up with your son's blood first."

  "What about this baby?" Susan said, pointing to her belly with a stiff finger. "Is there any chance at all with him?"

  "A remote one," the man said. "It's your brother-in-law's DNA we're looking to for a match. But we'll check your baby's blood too, on the unlikely chance he's a match."

  Susan clasped her hands together and started to rest them on her belly then snapped them away and dropped them to her sides. Tears filled her eyes and she started shaking.

  Sam put his arm around her and pulled her against him. "Honey, it's going to be okay." He looked at the man from the lab. "Assuming there's a match with my brother's son, how soon before we can start our son on chemo?"

  "Right away," the man said, "but you do understand that stem cell transplantation carries a ten percent mortality risk for the recipient due to infection. Chemotherapy will empty your son's bone marrow and suppress his immune system so he'll have to be in isolation for a month. But even after cord cells have been injected into his bloodstream and begin to create healthy marrow, recovery will still take three to four months, if all goes well."

  "We understand," Sam said. He looked at Susan, who was shaking and sobbing, and said to the man," I need to get her back to the hotel so she can rest. It's been a tough two days. Call us at the hotel as soon as you know." Sam tightened his arm around Susan, and left.

  After the man from the lab had gone, Grace said to Jack, who was reaching over the infant crib to stroke Adam's cheek, "Susan doesn't want her baby. You saw the way she reacted. Before Adam was born I couldn't keep my hands off my stomach. Sometimes I held them beneath, like cradling him in my hands, and other times I rested them on top, but Susan never touched her stomach. Not once. In fact she made a conscious effort to avoid touching it. Please talk to Sam. At least tell him we'll take the baby."

  The look of affection on Jack's face of moments before, as he gazed at Adam, changed to discontent. More than discontent. Protectiveness... And Jealousy. And it came to Grace that Jack was afraid if she had Marc's son she'd love him more than she did Adam, because Jack assumed she loved Marc more than she loved him.

  She put her hand out for Jack to take, and when he did, she said, "I didn't make empty vows to you, Jack. I vowed to love and honor you in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, and I intend to stand by that. Marc and I had five wonderful years to get to know and love each other, and I hope the same for us. And I could never love Marc's son more than I love Adam. I want both babies. I can love them both."

  Jack released her hand and went to stand at the window. "You feel that way now, when you have help here and Adam's sleeping most of the time," he said, looking out, "but when we're back at the ranch and he's older and demanding your time, and you're exhausted because you can't
sleep at night because he's keeping you awake, and he starts fussing and crying to be fed or changed or just being held, things will change. And if you had another one also demanding your full attention—"

  "I am not Lauren," Grace said, cutting Jack short. "I will not kill your son, and it makes me angry that you're comparing me to her. You can compare me in any other way—Lauren's beautiful, she's a champion rider, she can probably knit and paint and cross-stitch and do all the things I can't—but I will never kill your son. Now, if you don't mind, I'm tired. It's been a very long day." She clamped her jaws shut.

  Jack turned from the window, stared into the crib for an inordinate amount of time, then kissed Grace on the forehead, and said, "Thank you for my son." And left.

  ...we don't want to rush into something we might have to undo...

  Which was exactly what Jack did when he made a snap decision to marry her. But now, Grace had the sinking feeling that Jack wanted to start undoing it.

  The rest of the evening was a blur of nurses coming in to check Grace, and hand her Adam to nurse, and make sure everything was functioning as it should be. But she was so exhausted from the stress of the flight, and the difficult birth, that she managed to drift back to sleep each time. But during those short periods of wakefulness in between, she wondered if she should simply ask Jack for an annulment and set him free...

  But the next morning, in the light of a new day, seeing the gold band on her finger, and feeling the warm weight of her baby in her arms, and knowing she had a man in her life who was worth loving, she allowed herself to feel a certain amount of satisfaction...

  ...we'll take things one step at a time...

  Which was exactly what she intended to do. Starting with red wool socks to keep Jack's feet warm, and a fire burning on the hearth when he came in from the cold, and the smell of bread baking in the oven. And now, as his wife, a whole lot of lovemaking...

  Even Jack seemed to be in a better frame of mind by morning, arriving with a dozen red roses for her and a smile on his face, and even giving her a little kiss on the lips.

  "You look better this morning," he said. "How's my boy?"