His Daughter...Their Child

by Karen Rose Smith

  All at once, he went on alert. He heard Celeste murmuring to Abby, “Sit up, honey. Let me rub your back.”

  Then he heard Abby break into a fit of coughing. He was off his bed and down the hall.

  When he reached Abby’s bedside, Celeste had her cell phone in her hand. “I think we should call 9-1-1. She’s having trouble breathing.”

  Abby’s congested coughing started again.

  He took out his own phone and speed-dialed emergency services.

  Celeste arrived at the Miners Bluff Urgent Care Medical Center five minutes after the ambulance that had transported Abby with Clay riding along. She was scared, her heart pounding madly. Miners Bluff didn’t have a hospital per se, but this twenty-four hour facility was well-staffed. Anyone with an illness that couldn’t be handled here was transported to the hospital in Flagstaff.

  The double glass doors automatically slid open as Celeste rushed toward them. When the paramedics had arrived, they’d given Abby oxygen and hooked her up to an IV line. Was this just a bad chest cold? Could she brew pneumonia that quickly? What would it take to turn this around?

  Spotting Clay, she ran toward him. He looked tortured beyond measure as he retrieved his insurance card from the receptionist. “They took her back. They’re doing a breathing treatment, but I had to check her in.”

  A tall, lean doctor with ocean-blue eyes came from the door behind the desk and stopped when he saw Clay. His name tag read Dr. Adam Cooper.

  “Adam. Thank God, you’re here. Can I go back there and be with her?”

  “Sure you can. She’s scared and you can probably calm her down for us.” He eyed Celeste for a moment, then asked, “You were her surrogate mother?”

  Celeste knew Clay had called Dr. Cooper after his 9-1-1 call. Her own name must be in Abby’s history, and her pediatrician knew all about it. That made everything easier.

  As if Clay just realized how Celeste must be feeling, too, he took a deep breath, then held out his hand to her. “Come on, I’m sure she’d like to see both of us.”

  The warmth of Clay’s hand enveloping hers almost brought tears to Celeste’s eyes. She fought them and walked side by side with him down the hallway.

  As soon as Abby saw Clay, she tried to sit up, but he rushed to her, spoke to her softly and readjusted the oxygen cannula at her nose. “You’re going to be okay, ladybug.” He lifted his gaze to Dr. Cooper.

  “My educated guess is that she has the new strain of flu that’s making the rounds. That means it’s viral, but I want to make sure she isn’t hatching a secondary infection. Her lungs are congested and I ordered a chest X-ray to see just how bad that is. After I have that and results from her blood work, we’ll decide where we go from here.”

  “Is there any reason she should be in Flagstaff instead of here?” Celeste asked.

  “I don’t believe so, but that’s your choice.”

  Clay stroked Abby’s hair. “Let’s see what the tests say first.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Dr. Cooper agreed.

  “C’leste,” Abby cried, reaching her hand up.

  Experiencing all the feelings of a mom, yet knowing she didn’t have those rights yet, Celeste went to Abby and took her hand. “I’m right here. The doctor wants to take some pictures of you. Do you think you can let him do that?”

  She bobbed her head. “Come wif me?”

  Celeste’s gaze went to Clay, and she could see he was struggling with that one. He didn’t want to leave his daughter’s side.

  “This won’t take long,” the pediatrician assured them. “Fifteen minutes, tops.”

  Clay finally responded, “Go ahead. I’ll make some phone calls. But if she wants me, come get me.”

  “Of course,” Celeste said, trying to assure him this wasn’t a competition.

  His eyes held hers for a long time, then he leaned down and kissed Abby’s forehead.

  Celeste spoke to Abby as a technician pushed her gurney down the hall to the X-ray room. She encouraged her to hold her breath as the images were taken. She was by her side again as they returned to the small cubicle, assuring Abby her dad would be waiting for her. As soon as she felt better, they’d all go home.

  Well, Clay would be going home with his daughter. She would be going back to Mikala’s.

  Unless she offered to stay and help…

  “How’d it go?” Clay asked anxiously when they returned.

  “She did terrific. When they took the pictures, she pretended she was holding her breath in a swimming pool with Nemo floating by.”

  Clay pulled two vinyl chairs up to the side of the bed. Celeste sank onto one while he lowered himself into the other. They were shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm, leaning forward to Abby. This time neither of them moved away.

  As Abby’s eyes closed, Clay turned to Celeste. “You’ve been terrific with her. I suppose we’re going to have to look at the situation differently when this is over.”

  “How so?”

  “I guess part of me was hoping you wouldn’t be good at mothering, that you’d be just as flighty as Zoie. But you’re not. So I have to seriously consider you being a part of her life, not just a visitor who comes and goes.”

  The lump in her throat seemed to become larger the longer she looked into Clay’s eyes. She was about to tell him that new hopes and dreams were tied up to a life in Miners Bluff, but she didn’t get the chance.

  Suddenly there was noise in the hall, a man’s loud voice, a woman’s soothing tones, then Harold Sullivan was standing in the doorway, his piercing gaze targeting his granddaughter. He took in Clay and Celeste sitting by the bed, Abby’s IV line and the oxygen.

  Without a hello, without asking how his granddaughter was doing, he proclaimed, “We’re moving her to Phoenix. I’ve ordered a helicopter.”

  Clay rose to his feet. One hand still on his daughter’s arm, he stared at his father for a heavy moment before he said firmly, “You and Mom shouldn’t be here—you could catch the flu. And you can just cancel the helicopter. Abby’s staying right here, Dad, at least for now. I’m her father and I make those decisions.”

  Clay’s father’s face drew tight with anger. He took his wife’s arm, turned and left the cubicle muttering, “We’ll see about that.”

  Celeste wondered if Clay’s adult life had been filled with confrontations like this with his father. She clasped his forearm. “I agree with you. She should stay here.”

  At that moment, complete understanding vibrated between them, along with something deeper and more elemental. But she knew neither of them would acknowledge that until Abby’s crisis was over.

  Maybe not even then.

  Chapter Seven

  “So Clay’s with Abby now?” Jenny asked, as Celeste sat in the waiting room of the urgent care center with her cell phone to her ear.

  “I felt he wanted time alone with her.” Celeste had known Jenny would be up at six caring for the horses. She needed to talk, just as they’d talked back in high school and in the years since.

  “Is Clay making you feel as if you don’t belong there?”

  “I think he was glad I was here. But I know my presence made it harder when his parents arrived.” She told Jenny what had happened.

  “But Clay didn’t back down?”

  “No. His dad just always has this need to feel he has the upper hand. It’s exhausting for me. I can only imagine what it’s been like for Clay dealing with him his whole life.”

  “So tell me again why you feel Clay needed to be alone with Abby.”

  “Sometimes I just feel like I’m intruding, like he doesn’t trust I’m going to stay and he’s afraid Abby will get too attached. He’s been the one constant in her life.”

  “You have every right to be there,” Jenny assured her.

  “Do I? Really?”

  “Yes, really. I think you’re reacting to something else.”

  Celeste kept quiet.

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Last night as we sat in
her room, watching over her, it felt so…intimate.”

  “And you don’t know if you want that?”

  “I don’t know if Clay wants it. I don’t know if either of us are ready for it.”

  “When you two were dancing at the reunion, something was going on.”

  “You saw it?”

  “Don’t sound so horrified. I don’t think just anyone could. It was subtle. But I know you and I know Clay. Mikala saw it, too.” Jenny hesitated. “This time, you have to follow your heart, Celeste.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You gave up Abby and you stayed out of her life. You dated that pilot to try to forget about Abby, because you felt time was passing and you wanted more than a career. And I’m sure that wasn’t what your heart was telling you to do.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Celeste admitted. “This time I will follow my heart where Abby’s concerned.”

  “But not with Clay?”

  “We’ll see.” After the pause that followed, Celeste asked, “Have you heard from Zack yet?”

  “No. He called Silas, though. A lot of good that did. Silas told him he was great, the spring foals were coming along and I was handling a few new clients.” She gave a heavy sigh.

  “And Zack believed him?”

  “Zack wants to believe him so his life in California isn’t disturbed. But Silas is participating in fewer activities around here every day and that worries me on lots of levels.”

  With Jenny’s pensive silence, Celeste asked, “Have you heard from your father?”

  “He called from Wyoming a few weeks ago. I’m really hoping he’ll get back here for the holidays this year.”

  Although Jenny’s father had disappointed her over and over again, her friend always hoped things would be different.

  “I think I’m going to go back in and sit with Abby, too. I feel now that I’m back into her life, I don’t want to waste a minute.”

  “If I had a child, I know that’s the way I’d feel too.” Jenny said the words with such heartfelt sincerity that Celeste wondered what was behind that feeling.

  “Keep me updated,” Jenny told her.

  “I will.”

  Clay’s heart rate sped up as Celeste returned to Abby’s room. Last night he’d believed the wired feeling was strictly from worry about Abby, but now he knew better.

  He’d been awake all night as Celeste had been. They’d talked now and then, sat in the quiet, their thoughts colliding as much as their words when they did speak. It had almost been a relief when she’d left a while ago. He knew she felt his relief and didn’t know what to do about it. Too much was happening at once, and he couldn’t sort the nuances. He didn’t want to sort the nuances.

  “Has the doctor been in?” Celeste asked as she stood by Abby’s bed, looking down at her, stroking her fingers through his daughter’s hair.

  “No, but she seems to be breathing easier. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part.”

  Celeste watched Abby a few more moments as if counting each breath, as if studying every curve and dimple on his child’s face. When she rounded the bed and sat beside him, he noticed she was careful not to let her body lean toward his. They were both being so damn careful.

  “I could use some coffee,” he said gruffly. “I think I’ll go find some.”

  “I could have looked, but—I called Jenny. Talking always helps.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “I say the wrong thing too often with you,” she murmured.

  He leaned forward, set his elbows on his knees and rubbed his eyes. “No, I just pick up the wrong words. I forget you don’t use them as weapons.”

  “Like Zoie? Or your father?” she asked gently.

  “Both. Dad’s just more blunt about it and I can usually see it coming.”

  “Why can’t he let up with you?”

  “I’m not sure. But I think it has to do with his need to control. My mother explained it when he and I butted heads over me not staying in banking. His father had been the great Austin Sullivan. When he’d turned his copper mining shares into real estate holdings, he hopped from one project to the other, making more money with an investment in a mall or a high-rise in Manhattan. My grandmother died when Dad was around twelve, and because his father had so many business interests, he put Dad in a military school. So essentially my father had no control over his life until he was out on his own. Then he made sure he got control. Once I was born, he was determined to be around, not to be an on-the-road dad, so he felt he had to manage every aspect of my life. It’s an explanation, but it doesn’t help when I’m trying to communicate with him, or to remind him his responsibility toward me is over.”

  “But responsibility as a parent is never really over, is it?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I do. I think you mean he never learned how to let go, and that’s a different thing. I mean, for instance, if Abby was thirty and suddenly she lost everything, wouldn’t you still feel responsible for her?”

  “Of course,” he confessed with a sigh. “But that’s not the case here. I do have a life. I have money in the bank I’ve saved, a retirement account, investments, a house and a daughter who makes my life worthwhile. All this in addition to my grandfather’s trust fund. So I have trouble understanding why he can’t just stand back and enjoy my success.”

  “Spoken like a son,” she said with a soft smile that sent heat through his body.

  He pushed himself to his feet. “I’m going to find that coffee.”

  But before he was halfway across the small room, the door opened and Dr. Cooper stepped inside. “Good morning,” he said, crossing to Abby.

  Abby’s eyes popped open. “Daddy. Thirsty,” she mum bled.

  Clay looked toward the doctor, and he nodded, as he came over to check the IV.

  Clay adjusted the straw in Abby’s glass and held it for her so she could drink. She sipped thirstily, then reached up her arms to him for a hug.

  “Good morning, baby. I think the doctor would like to look you over and see how you’re doing. Okay?”

  Instead of agreeing, she reached her arms toward Celeste. Celeste came over and hugged her, too. “Are you feeling better?” she asked softly.

  Abby gave her a little smile and a nod, though Clay knew that was more because she wanted to go home than because she might really be feeling better. He could see from Celeste’s expression, that not-quite-radiant smile, that she knew it, too.

  The doctor took a strip from his pocket and said to Abby, “I’m going to take your temperature again. I’m just going to put this right on your forehead for a little while and then I’ll know how you’re really doing. Okay?”

  She let him place the strip across her forehead. Then he listened to her chest while he waited, checked the glands at her throat, played a game with her with his penlight.

  Reading her temperature, he turned to them. “Her fever’s down. Low-grade now. I want to keep it that way so I suggest we keep her here until midday. I want to keep her hydrated and give her more IV meds. I’ll check her again later. With kids, you never know what’s going to happen next. But I think I can predict with some degree of accuracy that she could be going home before evening. Everybody okay with that?”

  “Home, Daddy.” Those were the words Abby heard.

  “Before the moon comes out tonight, you might be going home. Until then, Celeste and I will read to you, or sing to you, or whatever you want to do. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she agreed. “Can Granny come play?”

  “She’ll play with you after you feel better.”

  Adam Cooper headed toward the door.

  Clay looked at Celeste, and Celeste looked back, and then they were smiling and hugging with the bonding joy only parents can know when their child is on the mend. The joyful embrace soon became something else. Clay leaned away slightly. Celeste tilted her chin up and met his gaze. He would have kissed her right then and there, but for Abby. And the look in her ey
es matched the desire he felt.

  As he broke away, Celeste didn’t try to hold on. But even as she stepped back, he knew they did indeed have a problem.

  They couldn’t deny their attraction any longer. So what were they going to do about it?

  Clay entered Abby’s cubicle to see his daughter sitting on Celeste’s lap, ready to go home. He folded her instruction sheet into quarters and tucked it into his jeans pocket. Taking a seat on the bed across from the two of them, he considered how to approach Celeste about a problem he now faced.

  Abby coughed a little and laid her head against Celeste’s shoulder. If nothing else, her gesture signified that he was doing the right thing.

  He said quietly to Celeste, “Are you busy the next few days?”

  Her gaze lifted to his. “That depends. What’s going on?”

  “Adam said it could be a week until Abby’s feeling up to par again.”

  “I suspected that.”

  “I’m supposed to take a family of three to the Grand Canyon overnight next weekend. Usually when I do that, Mom stays with Abby at the house, but her sister in Tennessee called. Her daughter’s planning a wedding and she wants Mom’s help. Mom said she wouldn’t go but I don’t want her to catch the flu and it will be good for her to get away. So how would you like to stay in my guest bedroom for a few days? I thought you could get used to being around Abby more often, and if everything works out, you could take care of her while I go to the Grand Canyon.”

  Several emotions seemed to pass across Celeste’s face. At first, surprise, then delight, then uncertainty. He knew what that uncertainty was about. There was a reason having Celeste in his house for the next week might not be a good idea.

  “I’d love to take care of Abby, and I want you to see that you can trust me with her. But I don’t want to…complicate our situation, either. Are you sure you want me to stay?”