Another Man's Baby

by Kay Stockham

  “You’re a doctor?”

  He saw hope flare in her eyes and hated to disappoint her. “No, but—” A firm little whack hit his arm where his coat had pulled back from his wrist. He glanced down in surprise. “Whoa.”

  Darcy snorted. “Kicks like a soccer player,” she informed him, her expression sad and proud at the same time. “But it’s too soon. I can’t have the baby now because it’s too soon.”

  He stomped down his own fears of what the next hour or so might bring and tried to adopt a reassuring expression. “Hey, stress is only going to make things worse, right? So you can’t stress,” he ordered gently. “Try to relax and let me get you to the hospital. Concentrate on staying calm.”

  She sniffled but nodded, then took a deep, shuddering breath. “Hear that, Cameron? We need to destress. Garret is going to take us to the hospital, and you’re going to stay put—that’s an order.”

  He noted the way her stroking hands had slowed their frantic pace. “Good job.” Once more he leaned over her, pressed the release on the seat belt and then pulled it loose. “Grab your purse and I’ll help you. Be careful of the ice.”

  Darcy gripped his arm and held, her face a scant inch away from his. “My suitcase. Will you get it? I want my things, the baby’s things. Just in case. It’s in the trunk. Please?”

  Garret bit back his impatience, but if he’d learned nothing else in his years working at the hospital, it was to not mess with hormonal, expectant mothers. “I’ll take care of it. But let’s get you settled first and strapped in, okay?” He braced himself while she shifted to get out. “Careful. That’s it, I’ve got you.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and held on while she walked the few steps it took to get her to the Escalade. Her foot slipped on the running board getting in.

  Time slowed in that split second. Her foot slipped, Darcy gasped, and he wrapped his arms around her so that her weight fell against him, praying she’d land on him and not the ice. Somehow he managed to keep them both on their feet, his nose landing in her hair from where it spilled beneath a knit cap. Heart thumping wildly, they stood frozen for several long seconds. Finally Garret squeezed her gently to let her know she was safe, and urged her inside.

  Grabbing the seat belt, he pulled it out for her to take and got another whiff of evergreen. He’d thought it was an air freshener inside her car, but the smell was too strong. Her perfume? Whatever it was, the scent was natural and earthy and completely unlike the heavy, designer fragrances Jocelyn favored.

  The multiple lights over her head and from the dash were brighter than the single one in her small car, giving Garret his first good look at her.

  A riot of soft blond curls tangled around Darcy’s tear-streaked face. She had a small, straight nose—albeit red and runny—and what looked to be chocolate-brown eyes. But it was her full, wide mouth that held his attention. While she fumbled to latch the seat belt, she sank her teeth into the soft pink flesh of her trembling lower lip. He stared, transfixed until a blast of wind nearly knocked him off his feet, reminding him that now was not the time to be standing around.

  Garret shook his head at himself and went for her suitcase, stowed it in the backseat of the SUV before climbing in beside her just in time to see Darcy’s face tighten with the onset of another contraction.

  “Garret?”

  “Yeah, sweetheart?”

  “Um…I think we’d better hurry.”

  DARCY HATED putting more pressure on her rescuer, but she was scared out of her mind. And with every contraction her fears quadrupled. She still had six weeks to go, so now was too early for this baby to arrive.

  The vehicle slipped and slid, and maneuvering the ice-coated road required Garret’s undivided attention. A good thing, considering how self-conscious she felt about having groaning, hug-the-belly pains in front of a gorgeous stranger. What if he had to deliver her baby?

  Times like these called for her to be pragmatic but she hadn’t shaved her legs and had worn her most comfortable panties. She didn’t want her handsome driver to remember her due to the holes in her underwear. Wouldn’t that be a story for his grandkids?

  “How far is it?” she asked when the contraction was over and the silence in the vehicle became too much. “Are we close?”

  “Very. Just relax.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  Garret smiled, his teeth looking impossibly white. Why couldn’t she have been rescued by a sweet little old midwife?

  “Because you’re too perceptive for your own good? The hospital isn’t far, less than ten or fifteen minutes on a good day.”

  But what about a really bad one? “If the baby comes—”

  “It won’t.”

  “But if it does and you have to deliver it,” she continued determinedly, her face growing hot. “I just want to apologize in advance.” For the underwear, the porcupine legs and the mess and trauma birth would cause the immaculate vehicle and you, she added silently.

  She shouldn’t have waited so late in her pregnancy to move. She should have known Stephen would never come around and man up to being a dad. She should have moved months ago. In fall, not winter!

  “Nothing’s going to happen to you or the baby. And there’s no need to apologize. You’re getting yourself worked up because you’re scared. Sit back and relax. Think happy thoughts.”

  Was he kidding? She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the buttery-soft seat. “I should’ve been more responsible and stopped for the night before it got dark. Then I wouldn’t have made the stupid wrong turn.”

  “The weather front shifted suddenly. You couldn’t have known. Besides, I don’t know a single woman who wouldn’t be frightened right now. But you’ve got to remember that stress isn’t good for the baby. You’re doing fine, Darcy. Just try to stop giving yourself such a hard time.”

  Easy for him to say. She could mentally kick herself all the way to Canada and not be satisfied. The move, the weather. And she couldn’t have spared five minutes to shave her legs? “Do you do that for a living? Give pep talks?”

  Garret chuckled, the sound gravelly and soothing at the same time. “I push paper and placate temper tantrums more often than not. But sometimes pep talks are needed, too, so yeah.”

  He looked the type. Sort of like the old gentlemen farmers, all proper manners and clothes on the surface, but calloused and hard beneath. “Then I guess I’ll listen to you. I mean I’m trying…” Her words trailed to a stop and she shook her head, unable to give voice to the horrible images rumbling through her brain.

  What if the baby came? Would it live?

  The void of their conversation was broken by the swoosh of the wipers, the heater fan blowing full blast and the crunch of the ice and snow beneath the tires. The SUV slid as they headed into a curve, and she gasped and braced herself to take a bite out of another guardrail. But other than lurching to one side, the big vehicle kept its course, and Garret’s cool thinking and reflexes allowed him to maintain control.

  He shot her an apologetic glance. “Sorry about that. You okay?”

  She nodded, unnerved by the second close call. “It happens fast, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, especially in the mountains. I saw your tags when I turned around. You’re from Florida?”

  “Miami. I…I’ve lived in Miami the past four years.” No sooner had the words left her mouth than the pain returned. She stiffened in the seat, trying hard to keep quiet. How could something that lasted mere seconds hurt so much?

  When it was over, she couldn’t stop shaking. “It’s too quiet,” she whispered abruptly.

  “What kind of music do you like?”

  “No, not—I…I need words. Music doesn’t distract me b-because I can tune it out. Talk to me. I know you need to concentrate, but I keep thinking about all the things that could happen and—Tell me something. Anything. Recite the alphabet if you want to, I don’t care. You said you work at the hospital? What do you do?”

  Garret could probably
feel her desperation, certainly hear it in her voice. While she’d like to have kept a cool head, it simply wasn’t possible. What if she had this all wrong? What if something happened to her and the baby survived? What then?

  Her stomach threatened to heave at her thoughts.

  Stop this. Stop thinking worst-case scenario.

  “I’m the administrative chief of staff at the hospital. It’s basically a fancy title for a job that means I make sure the hospital runs smoothly. Contract negotiating, staffing, supplies, security. It all falls under a big umbrella that I oversee.”

  She lifted a hand to shove her hair off her face. “That sounds hectic.”

  “It can be. But it leaves the doctors and nurses to concentrate on what they do best.”

  “Another power player.” Anger surfaced out of nowhere. Stephen had loved the authority that came with people reporting to him—especially the maids, although she hadn’t found that out until after they’d broken up. Realizing she’d said the words aloud, she faltered. “Sorry. No offense.”

  “I don’t take offense easily.”

  “I only meant that with a job like that you must enjoy…being in charge.”

  “I still have to report to the president and the board, but who doesn’t like a little say-so in some way or another?” He shrugged. “One of my brothers refers to me as the gatekeeper.”

  A wave of heat swept over her and her heart picked up speed. Steadily increasing pressure tightened her muscles and gathered around her middle. “Is the nickname…appropriate?” Don’t think about the contractions. They’re nothing. They don’t—

  She must have made some noise because Garret’s hands rotated on the steering wheel, like he wanted to twist and grind it into nothing. The sight touched her more than words could. If he could take the pain away, do something to help her, she knew without a doubt he would. How sweet was that?

  “I guess I could be called a scaled-back adrenaline junkie. I get my kicks from solving problems in high-stress situations.”

  “You must be loving this, then.”

  He reached over the console and placed his hand on her forearm. “No man likes seeing a woman in pain. Hang in there, we’re getting closer.”

  She tried to smile but couldn’t. They might be getting closer, but so were the contractions.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “FOCUS, DARCY. Don’t think about the pain or worry about what’s not going to happen. What did you do in Miami? Huh? Sweetheart, talk to me.”

  Darcy supposed the situation called for a get-to-know-you info dump because if the baby decided to make its debut, he’d get to know her a lot better sooner rather than later. He should probably know a few things about her before discovering she preferred hi-cut low riders over the thongs she’d set aside at five months.

  “I worked for a couple of privately owned hotels, before that a gym and a hotel chain.” She hesitated, glimpsed his expectant expression for her to fill in the blanks and sighed. “I’m an aromatherapist. I use scented oils in massage therapy.”

  She waited, really not in the mood for a snarky comment about her profession. Would he be like other people? Look at her, her belly, and smirk?

  “Are you having another contraction?”

  He probably thought so because of the way she was grinding her teeth, but grasping the excuse, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the seat. Let him think what he wanted. She knew all guys weren’t hound dogs, but her experience working in Miami was that most guys who dressed like Garret and drove vehicles like this equated her profession to prostitution. Toss in her pregnant, unmarried state and—Well, most men assumed that she’d played sex games with one too many of her clients and was now paying the price.

  You’re awfully sensitive, there. This guy hasn’t said a word.

  But how long would it be until he did? Stephen’s parents, and Stephen himself, had had plenty to say about the pregnancy. They’d gotten down and dirty in the insult department when she’d refused to do their bidding and abort.

  “Have you ever seen snow?”

  She wet her lips, relaxing slightly. Thanks for sending me a gentleman, Nana. “I’m originally from southern Indiana, so yeah, I’ve seen snow.”

  “And you said you’re moving back there? How’d an Indiana girl wind up in Miami?”

  Darcy nibbled her lower lip, her gaze on her hands as they moved over her stomach. “The Indiana girl thought Miami was warm and a great change of pace.”

  Another contraction consumed her, heat first, then pain, harder than any of the others. She leaned forward, balling up in an attempt to fight it.

  “Easy. Try to breathe.”

  “C-can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.” He put her hand on her back, rubbing gently. “Come on, Darcy. Listen to my voice. Breathe out, slowly. Good. Now inhale.”

  When it was over, she straightened and glared at him. A man should have to experience childbirth. Don’t be so cocky, you haven’t experienced it yet. “Are we close? Please, tell me we’re close.”

  “Getting there. Beauty is a great little town,” he added, pride lacing his voice. “Very low crime, everybody knows each other. I went away to college, but moved back once I graduated because I missed it so much. Some guys want to travel the world, but I knew all along I wanted to stay close to my roots. Wait until you see it and you’ll understand what I mean.”

  “It sounds nice. I—I want that for my baby. Roots and stability. That’s why I’m moving back home.” But it wasn’t home. It hadn’t felt like home even when she lived there. Was she doing the right thing?

  “Families are good to have around, especially when there are kids involved. I have three brothers and a sister, plus the parents and a huge assortment of aunts, uncles and cousins.”

  One aspect of his story stuck out in her mind. “Your mother went through this five times?”

  Garret chuckled, the sound a smooth bass. “Four, actually. My younger brothers are twins.”

  At the mention of his brothers, his expression grew…mournful? Whatever it was, something in his tone kept her from asking for more details, much as she wanted to. She was curious by nature and having no real family of her own, she loved hearing about other people’s.

  That was the best part of her job. Facedown on the table, some of her clients habitually unloaded their family problems as though she were a shrink. She knew the names of children, grandchildren. Pets. She’d learned when to ask questions and when to keep quiet and let them ramble.

  Garret wasn’t rambling. “Is the, um, hospital a good one? Nice people and all? And the baby unit? Are they good with preemies?”

  Once again he reached over and squeezed her arm. She felt the heat of his touch through her coat and appreciated the comfort it brought. She wasn’t her mother. She didn’t hang all over men trying to get them to notice her. If anything she kept her distance and waited them out. But Garret’s frequent caresses weren’t creepy or touchy-feely, just…nice.

  “You’re not going to have a preemie. We’re going to get there and they’re going to stop the contractions. We’re not far, but I have to go slow or risk driving us over the side of the mountain.”

  “I know.” She rubbed her aching head with her free hand. “I couldn’t believe it when I started to slide. I was going so slow, but—My car’s really screwed up. It wouldn’t start after I crashed and I don’t know where to get it fixed or when I’ll be able to get back on the road. What if they can’t stop the labor? What if the baby has to stay in the hospital for a while? I need to get settled in Indiana, find a job and get an apartment, but…I could be a mom tonight.”

  Or not.

  Chills racked her. The baby had to survive. Be okay. But if they couldn’t stop the labor and it was born tonight—Was she ready for this? The crying and feeding and supporting, raising. And later? If she managed to do all those things, no way was her baby going to drive at fifteen. And dating? Yeah, right. Samuel Tolbert had tried to feel her up at that age�
��and go a lot further. She’d kneed him in the nuts and walked home. No way would her son or daughter be anywhere near the opposite sex before they were twenty—at least!

  “I can recommend a great mechanic. There’s nothing he can’t fix, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

  She made a face. “Hate to tell you this, but if you drive this kind of vehicle and are still going to the shop a lot for him to fix things, your mechanic is a crook.”

  Another chuckle. The man would make a fortune bottling the sound.

  “Not Nick. He’s my brother and a good guy.”

  There it was again. That tone of his was…sad. “Why do you say it like that?”

  While he remained staring straight ahead Garret’s expression changed to one she couldn’t read. “Like what?”

  “If he’s a good guy, why do you sound sad about it?”

  “I guess because the family doesn’t see much of Nick even though he owns the garage in town.”

  “Should I ask why you don’t see him…or keep my mouth shut?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  She squirmed, unable to get comfortable. Her back was killing her. “You two have a big fight over a girl?” Tension crept in, slow and sure, wrapping around her like a python, squeezing, squeezing, until she couldn’t breathe.

  “It was nothing like that. Long story short, Nick went against the family wishes and dropped out of high school. Our parents, grandparents—everyone got involved from teachers to the guy at the feed store. And the more people talked, the more distanced and angry Nick became. Things have been tense ever since.”

  “How long ago…was this?” She gritted her teeth and fought to focus on Garret instead of the pain.

  “About fifteen years.”

  “And they’re—oh—still upset?” She gasped out the words.

  The Escalade slid to the left as they started across a bridge, and Garret slowed even more. She wanted to scream at him to go faster, but couldn’t take a breath.

  Shaking, unable to fight the tears or the pain any longer and pretend she could do this with dignity, she released a low groan. “G-Garret?”