Only she didn’t find Heath on the couch, but Fred, gnawing on a slimy rawhide she knew he wasn’t allowed to have on the furniture.
He froze, as if in hopes that if he didn’t move she wouldn’t see him, and as soon as she left he could carry on. When that technique didn’t work, he applied a guilty tilt to his head and wide-eyed innocence.
“You’re not fooling me,” she said, pointing toward his perfectly comfy bed. “Down.”
He begrudgingly obeyed.
She soon found that she and Fred were on their own. Hattie and Mason were heading to the airport, so was Heath at the cabin? But that didn’t make sense, because Hattie had promised to stop by to say goodbye.
Though her aching back made every step agony, Libby waddled to the motel office in search of Gretta.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Heath’s mom looked up from a stack of bills and her checkbook. “What time did you two get in last night?”
Libby yawned. “I think it was around midnight. After dinner, Heath drove me to watch the fireworks from a point—I can’t remember the name.”
“Calabash?”
“That’s it. We had so much fun.” Libby left out the part where she and Heath had lingered long after the rest of the crowd had left. They had shared kisses and conversation. He’d shared his thoughts and fears on returning to the navy and she, in turn, had voiced her concerns about single-parenthood and failing to reconnect with her family.
“I can tell. You’re glowing.”
Hands to her cheeks, Libby said, “I’m sure I’m just hot from the walk over.”
“Nope.” Gretta smiled. “Don’t even try fooling me. I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck. I know sparks of romance when I see them. My son’s finally courting you, and I couldn’t be more pleased.” She rounded the desk to give Libby a hug. Only instead of returning her friend’s embrace, Libby winced.
“What’s wrong?” Gretta asked, her expression pinched with concern. “Something to do with the baby?”
“No...” Libby backed onto one of the lobby’s comfy leather chairs. “I think I spent too much of yesterday sitting on the ground. Too little support left me using muscles my body apparently forgot I had.”
Gretta didn’t seem so sure. “Let me know if you feel worse. You could be in back labor.”
“Thanks for worrying, but I’m fine.”
*
AN HOUR LATER, Libby wasn’t so sure. If anything, her back pain was even more intense. Still, with Hattie and Mason at the house with the kids, she didn’t want to waste a moment of their goodbyes worrying about a minor ache.
“I’m going to miss you,” Libby said to her new friend, rocking her in a hug.
“Likewise,” Hattie said, along with a kiss to Libby’s cheek. “I was selfishly hoping for a super sneaky surprise engagement so I could have you with me at home. We SEAL wives are always looking to recruit quality ladies for our single guys, as opposed to the female flotsam that sometimes washes up in my bar.”
Libby laughed. “Sorry, but there’s no chance of a proposal from Heath—or even a kiss—in my future.”
“Uh-huh... Deny it all you want, but you can’t fool me. I know you two have something going on.”
Libby couldn’t help but grin through her latest wince. “What’s it going to take for you to believe me?”
“Hmm...” She tapped her upper lip with her index finger. “How about a marriage license to another guy?”
“Now you’re talking crazy.” Because Libby couldn’t imagine herself with anyone other than Heath. A definite problem since this morning, after returning from his workout, he’d been uncharacteristically cold, reminding her of the way things had been between them when she’d first come to town. Which, in light of the good times they’d recently shared, made no sense. A fact she planned to drill him on the moment Hattie and Mason hit the road. “But in the unlikely event I do get married, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Thank you.”
“Hat Trick.” Mason tugged the back of his wife’s lightweight jacket. “If we’re going to make our flight, we’ve got to go.”
“Okay, okay...” Libby’s throat tightened when Hattie gave her one more hug. “Don’t rush me.”
“Babe, it’s not me putting a time limit on you, but the airline.”
Being overly emotional wasn’t new territory for Libby, but she was surprised by just how much she hated seeing Hattie go. Sure, she could talk to Gretta, but having a woman her own age to talk to had been a lot of fun.
“Bye, Wibby!” Vivian and Vanessa ambushed Libby’s legs with sweet hugs.
“Aw, goodbye, you two. It was so nice meeting you. Hope I see you again real soon.”
“Uh-huh,” Vivian said.
Vanessa busied herself kissing Sam.
“All right,” Mason said, “Libby, it was a pleasure meeting you, but we’ve really got to go. Come on, crew...” As Mason herded his brood out the door and to their rented SUV, Libby felt a profound sense of loss.
She now knew the friends she thought she’d had on her craft show circuit hadn’t been true. What kind of friend carried on business as usual while knowing the man Libby loved was engaging in multiple affairs?
As if sensing Libby’s sadness, Gretta wrapped her arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay. Now that you and Heath are an item, I’m sure you’ll see all of them again soon.”
“But we’re not—”
“Hush. It’s disrespectful to lie to your elders.”
“What about you and Hal?” Libby asked, glad Heath was still talking to Mason. “I’ve seen you two together. When are you going to make an official declaration?”
Blushing furiously, Gretta waved off Libby’s question. “Stop being fresh and get out of here. You should be resting.”
Mmm...a nap did sound divine—if only she fell asleep cocooned by Heath’s strong arms. Too bad that sort of pleasure would only be found in her dreams.
*
HEATH HAD MIXED feelings watching his friends go. He knew once he returned to Virginia Beach, once he rejoined the old crew, he’d be with them probably more than he’d like, so what bugged him about their leaving?
His answer was found when he looked Libby’s way to find his mother consoling her.
What bugged him was the fact that today marked the first of many tough goodbyes. His mom and Uncle Morris traditionally visited often, but he wouldn’t soon see his dog, and Libby... How did he even start letting her go? Especially when she wasn’t even his?
Gretta cleared her throat. “Well, you two. I need to get back to washing towels. Libby, do you need anything before I go?”
“No, thank you.”
On her own with Heath, Libby wasn’t sure what to say, so she settled for chitchat. “How was your workout?”
“Good.” He aimed for the house.
“What’s wrong?” Following him, still holding her throbbing back, she said, “You seem like a different person from the guy I was with last night.”
“You’re imagining things.” He held open the back door for her.
Sam romped past them both, knocking her into Heath. He easily supported her, saving her from toppling, but the moment he had her safely upright he let her go. There was none of the lingering contact she’d grown to expect—and enjoy. Instead, he’d become a study in cold efficiency.
“Am I? Last night you couldn’t keep your hands off of me. Now you act as if I have cholera.”
“Point of fact—” he took a bottled water from the fridge “—the odds of catching cholera from person to person isn’t all that high, but you damn sure wanna watch where you get your water.”
“Thanks, Mr. Walking Encyclopedia.”
He finished half the bottle in one gulp. “Just sayin’...”
“W-what’s wrong with you?” Her lower back screamed, but her questioning heart hurt worse. “Last night you were funny and romantic and considerate. Now?” She shook her head. “You’re being an ass. I don’t even kno
w you.”
“Ever think you shouldn’t?”
“What’s that mean?”
Ignoring her, he left for the living room and started cramming his clothes and books and Sam’s toys into a duffel. From there, he headed for the bathroom, shoveling in his toiletries, as well.
“Answer me.” She tried tugging him around by his shirtsleeve, but he stood firm. The effort cost her dearly, as the stretch left her doubling over in pain. “Ouch...”
As if her need had flipped a hidden switch deep within him, tender, caring Heath was back, ushering her to a chair. “What’s wrong? Is it your back?”
She nodded, but the pain had grown to such an extent that she lacked the focus to speak.
“Shit...” Tossing his duffel, he scooped her into his arms, stormed through the house to kick open the back door, then somehow got her into the truck. Without slowing to even tell his mom where they were going, he drove straight to the clinic, stopping in front of the stairs.
“Stay put,” he barked. “I’m gonna get help.”
She did as he asked, hugging her baby, crying and moaning for relief. What was wrong with her? Was her baby okay? This kind of pain couldn’t be normal.
Moments later, Heath returned with Doc Meadows, Lacy and Eloise in tow.
After Heath hefted Libby from the truck to a wheelchair, the doctor took over, pushing her up the ramp and into an exam room. She wanted Heath with her, holding her hand, reassuring her everything would be all right, but he wasn’t following and she was too consumed with pain to ask.
*
HEATH HAD BEEN in the clinic’s waiting room listening to Libby’s muted cries for fifteen minutes before he couldn’t take a second more.
Ignoring a coughing kid and his mom, Heath stormed past Eloise to the closed door leading to the exam rooms.
“You can’t go back there!” Eloise shouted, chasing after him while he searched room by room until finding poor Libby.
“Babe...” he said, surprised to find her on her hands and knees on a blanket stretched across the floor. “Why aren’t you on the examination table?” To the doctor he barked, “What’s up with her being down there? Can’t you see she’s in pain?”
Doc Meadows sat on a rolling stool, scribbling something on Libby’s chart before even looking up. “Relax, son. This might look odd, but I can assure you I’ve delivered hundreds of healthy kiddos and I’ve got this under control. The baby’s heartbeat is strong, but Libby’s baby’s in what’s called an occiput posterior position. In layman’s terms, the hardest part of the baby’s skull is resting on Libby’s spine. What we’re going to do is try coaxing the baby into a more favorable position. In the meantime, I want Libby like this to take the pressure off of her back.”
“How long does she have to stay like that?”
“Unfortunately, as long as it takes. The good news is that she’s already at six centimeters, so she’s well on her way to a safe delivery, I just want to apply pressure to convince this little one to turn around.”
Heath’s head was spinning. In a situation like this, he wanted to call on his training to get Libby safely through this crisis, but how could he do that when he obviously knew nothing about labor or delivery?
“What can I do to help?” he asked.
“Honestly,” Doc Meadows said, “I’d feel a lot better with you back out in the waiting room.”
That might be what the doctor wanted, but what did Libby want? “Lib?” he asked, sickened by the pain marring her beautiful features. Her lips formed a tight grimace and her eyes were shut. Every few seconds, she moaned. Sweat dampened her forehead, and the nurse had already pulled Libby’s long hair into a ponytail. “Do you want me to stay? I will—if you need me.”
As if she were in a trance, she didn’t even look his way. Had she heard him? Did he need to get on her level to make sure?
“Heath,” Doc Meadows repeated, “you need to go. I know it may not seem like it to you, but all of this is natural. Libby and her baby will be fine. If I spot even the smallest sign of mother or child being in distress, I can have her transported to a hospital in thirty minutes.”
“Shouldn’t she just go now?”
“It’ll only increase her discomfort.”
“Still...”
The doctor pointed him toward the door.
Chapter Fifteen
“Honey, you need to relax,” Heath’s mother said three hours into Libby’s ordeal. While he paced the clinic’s waiting room, with Eloise glaring in his direction, she added, “She’s in good hands. Doc Meadows has delivered ninety percent of the kids born in this county. I know that look on your face. You’re thinking this is going to end badly, like Patricia, but sweetheart, having a baby hurts. That’s just how it is. But in the end, when you hold that precious bundle in your arms, the pain magically vanishes and all that’s left is love.”
“Yeah, but why won’t the doctor let me back there? Shouldn’t someone she knows be with her? At least holding her hand? I’ve seen how this goes on TV and movies, and the dad’s always in there with the mom. You know, like a family.”
“But, sweetie, you’re not a family. As much as she’s come to mean to me—and I suspect, to you—when you get right to it, we hardly know her at all.”
But that wasn’t how he wanted it to be.
Why had he been such an ass this morning? Determined to push her away when all he really wanted was for them to be closer? But it wasn’t right for him to welcome her into his life just as he was leaving—her, too, for that matter. He’d been about to explain that to her before bringing her here.
“Do you care for her?” Gretta asked under her breath, presumably so only he could hear.
“Of course,” he snapped. “Why else would I be a nervous wreck?”
“No.” She rose to rub his back. “I mean do you really care for her? As in have feelings beyond friendship?”
What could he say? Of course, he did. But he shouldn’t. And the guilt was eating him alive. It was no longer about guilt over Patricia, but the fact that he was in no shape to emotionally support anyone. Hell, these past months he’d barely cared for Sam. Libby and her baby deserved way more than he had to offer.
“I know you do,” his mom said, “so you can stop with the act of playing it cool.”
He drew her into the area of the clinic that had once been the grand home’s foyer. “Okay, so what if I do have feelings for her? That doesn’t change anything. I’m leaving. She’s leaving. It would never work between us.”
“Why?” Her crossed arms and jutted chin told him she fully meant her question. “Come on, Heath, I dare you to give me one legitimate reason why two lovely young people who clearly need each other should spend even one day apart. And these days, distance doesn’t count. It’s not as if she’d have to take a covered wagon east to be with you.”
“You’re not funny.” He pressed his fingertips to his stinging eyes.
“I’m not trying to be.”
“Heath?” The nurse appeared. “The doctor has the baby turned, and Libby’s ready to push. She asked for you.”
*
“TH-THANK YOU, FOR BEING HERE,” Libby managed, out of her mind with pain and looking for any comfort. Right now, the only thing she could think of to bring her a moment’s peace was Heath.
“Of course, angel. Where else would I be?” He stood at the head of the bed in one of the two hospital-type rooms the doctor used for any patients he needed to keep a closer eye on, but who weren’t sick enough to be transported to Coos Bay.
“Enough chitchat,” the doctor said. “Libby, girl, I’m gonna need you to push for all your worth.”
Teeth clenched, Libby held tight to Heath, craving not only his comfort, but strength.
She had no idea how long she’d been pushing, but forever didn’t seem too terribly out of line. Day had turned to night, and through it all he’d stood alongside her, pressing cool rags to her forehead and sweeping back her hair. Telling her she was beaut
iful, and he couldn’t wait to meet her baby girl, who would no doubt be as pretty as her.
Over and over, she bore down. And every time, just when she thought she couldn’t stand any more pain, Heath gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
“She’s crowning!” the doctor finally said. “Come on, Libby. You’re almost there.”
“Arrrrggghhh!” she cried. “I can’t!”
“Yes, you can,” Heath assured.
“Noooooo...” She thrashed her head back and forth, gritting her teeth through agonizing pain.
“Come on, angel,” Heath coached. “Stay strong just a little longer and you’ll be holding your gorgeous baby in your arms. One more push.”
“E-easy for you to say...”
He laughed. “That’s my girl. Get mad at me if it helps. I deserve it.”
“Y-yes, you do...”
“What did I tell you two about the chatter,” the doctor said. “Libby, I need you to focus like you never have before. One or two more pushes and you’ll be done.”
She nodded, bearing down, squeezing Heath’s hand for all she was worth. “Arrrggghh...”
All at once came tremendous pressure, then bliss when pain was replaced by her baby’s precious first cry.
And then, when the doctor placed her daughter on her chest, Libby was crying and laughing, as was Heath.
“She’s amazing,” he said, his voice an awestruck whisper. “I’ve never seen anything more perfect.”
“Hello,” Libby said to her daughter, skimming her hand over her tiny fingers and toes. “Boy, am I glad to see you.”
Everyone present laughed.
After more bonding, the doctor asked Heath to step out.
Once the infant’s cord was cut, the doctor volunteered to clean up the baby while the nurse helped Libby.
“By this time tomorrow,” the nurse said, “you’ll be surprised by how much better you’ll feel.”
“Hope so,” Libby said with a faint smile.
Twenty minutes later, the efficient nurse had cleaned Libby, dressed her in a new patient gown and tidied the room. Anyone who hadn’t been present during nearly the entire day of labor would have never guessed what had just happened.
The SEAL's Baby Page 14
