by Deb Kastner
Delia’s brow rose at his request and she chuckled.
“Don’t worry, Slade. She’s not going to have Baby Beckett in the back of this truck, or even within the next hour. She may not even start having contractions by then. It could be days yet, but we need to get her checked out. That said, we have plenty of time to get her to the hospital in San Antonio. You have your birth plan registered at Mercy Medical Center, right Laney?”
Laney nodded.
“We should get going then,” Slade affirmed, and both women turned their surprised gazes upon him. His own gaze widened and he shrugged. “What?”
“We?” Delia asked with a chuckle.
“Well, yeah. If you think I’m going to stay back here in town while Laney goes through labor and delivery all by herself, you have another thing coming.”
Laney’s face had lost some of its color after Delia had arrived, but now her blush returned in spades.
“What?” Slade asked again.
“You can’t—that is, Carol is my birth partner. She’ll be the one giving me support during the delivery,” Laney explained.
Now it was Slade’s turn to color as heat rose from his boots to his hat. He shook his head vehemently. “No, I didn’t mean—no way. I’ll be the one pacing outside the door to the room waiting to hand out cigars.”
Laney wrinkled her nose. “Cigars?”
It was a moderately warm day in Texas. How had it suddenly gotten so hot out here? And where had all the oxygen disappeared to? He felt as if he was choking. He leaned back on his heels and took off his hat, wiping his suddenly wet brow and tunneling his fingers back through his hair.
“It’s only an expression,” he assured her as he stood. “I’m not going to contribute to anyone’s vices. But I need to be there at the hospital. Please.”
He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling like a complete outsider, trying to push his nose where it didn’t belong. Why did he think he had any right to accompany her to the hospital? He wasn’t family. And at the moment, he wasn’t certain he and Laney were even friends.
Delia looked at Laney with an enquiring smile. “Your call, hon.”
“Yes, of course I want Slade to be there.”
He let out his breath in an audible huff of air, relief flooding through him. He’d be there when Brody’s baby—and Laney’s baby—was born.
Carol and Grant reached the truck about the same time Ben and Zach got there, followed immediately by Jo and Frank. Everyone else who’d gathered for the rodeo seemed to be giving them a wide berth, respecting their privacy, and perhaps wondering if they’d need to make a quick exit—which in Slade’s opinion, they did. Delia updated everyone without embarrassing Laney with every last detail. She assured Ben and Zach that an ambulance wasn’t necessary and they quickly made their excuses.
“We’ll be taking her over to the hospital,” Grant informed everyone. “We’re all set. She has a suitcase packed and in the trunk, so we’re good to go.”
He hadn’t realized Laney had prepared in advance. She even had her suitcase packed for her stay in the hospital.
But it wasn’t yet her due date. She had at least a few days left, didn’t she?
“You’re sure she doesn’t need any extra help?” Slade protested. It wasn’t that he doubted Delia’s word, exactly. She was the doctor. But he couldn’t help but be worried about Laney. “What if she starts her contractions? What if she needs pain medicine? Shouldn’t she be transferred by ambulance, just in case?”
Laney reached for his hand. “I’ll be fine. I’m having a natural birth.”
“What does that mean?” He looked from Laney to Delia and back again, his throat tightening. He was certain he wasn’t going to like whatever he was about to hear.
“She’s not going to be medicated during the birth,” Carol inserted.
“What?” Slade repeated. “Why would she do that?”
He didn’t know what labor felt like, but he knew how Laney had looked when she’d last experienced contractions—and those were fake ones. He couldn’t imagine why she’d want to subject herself to the real thing. Besides, it wasn’t the dark ages. Why endure pain when it wasn’t a necessity?
“It’s too complicated to get into right now,” Laney informed him. “In case you’ve forgotten, I need to get to the hospital, probably sooner rather than later.”
Slade pressed his hat back on his head and reached for her other hand. She blushed. “How do I—er—”
He realized she was talking about her water breaking. She didn’t want to stand up, probably especially in mixed company. But she was going to have to move if she was going to get transferred to Grant’s car. He’d gone to bring the car around and Frank had likewise gone to get his truck, so he was the only man left in the area. He hoped she knew she could depend on him, no matter what. He might be freaking out a little bit on the inside, but on the outside, he was going to be her rock.
“No need to worry about it, princess. Everyone here loves you.”
He knew every eye turned on him but he didn’t care. His only concern was the woman he was carefully assisting to her feet. As soon as she was standing, he wrapped one arm around her waist and held her hand to steady her. He didn’t look anywhere except her face.
“Take it easy, princess. One step at a time.”
“I can walk,” she responded. “I’m not sick, just embarrassed. You don’t have to hover over me.”
He begged to differ but decided against saying so out loud. Instead, he hopped off the tail gate and swept her into his arms, carrying her to Grant and Carol’s vehicle. She protested, but Slade would have none of it. He didn’t care if her jeans were soaked. The only thing that mattered to him was that Laney was properly cared for.
As he gently deposited her in her seat, she reached for his hand.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice coarse.
His brow rose and despite his anxiety over the situation, he gave her his best confident grin, hoping it looked reassuring from the outside, because inside he was shaking. “No problem.”
He thought she was talking about him carrying her to the car, but she adamantly shook her head. “Not for this. For everything. For—”
Grant broke in, reminding them that they needed to go. Everyone gathered wished Laney well and expressed their excitement of seeing Baby Beckett soon.
“I’ll meet you at the hospital,” Delia assured Laney, then tapped on the top of the car to let Grant know he could take off.
Slade wanted to ask them to wait. He needed to hear what Laney had been about to say. What did she mean, that she was thankful for everything?
But the moment had passed and Grant pulled his car from the arena drive. He clenched his hands into nervous fists, Slade watched until the vehicle was out of sight. He felt oddly lost and empty.
He didn’t know what she’d meant, but he knew what was in his heart. He, too, was thankful for everything he’d found with her. Now was not the time, but he hoped soon he would be able to show her just how grateful he was.
Right now, all he could do was drive to the hospital—and pray as he’d never done before.
* * *
Laney’s contractions started about halfway to the hospital in San Antonio. To her surprise, they weren’t nearly as strong as the Braxton Hicks contractions she’d experience a few weeks earlier. Not only were they shorter and less intense, but further apart, so much so that she’d wondered if she really should be going to the hospital so soon.
Carol had gently reminded her that it was an important part of her birth plan, because the hospital had instructed her to come in right away if her water broke or contractions started coming at seven minutes apart since she had so far to drive to get there.
She didn’t know how Slade managed to catch up with the Becketts’ c
ar, since it would have been impossible for him to have left until at least a few minutes after they had, but twenty minutes into their drive, Laney looked back to find Slade’s truck right behind them. She hoped he hadn’t broken the speed limit too much in order to catch up with them.
She found a great deal of amusement and distraction watching him.
Poor Slade. He might have felt better had he simply accompanied them in the Becketts’ car, but she didn’t want him getting stuck in San Antonio with no way to go get a meal for himself or to return home after Baby Beckett was born. Not to mention the fact that he would no doubt have hovered over her and made a bigger deal out of her labor than it really was at this point.
He didn’t exactly tailgate, but he kept only a short distance between his truck and the Becketts’ car. From her position in the backseat, she could easily see him through the rear window. His hat was, as usual when he was under stress, pulled down low over his brow, so she wasn’t able to see his eyes, but she knew him well enough to know he was edgy. He drove with both hands clenching the wheel and his whole upper body hunched over the steering wheel, as tense as a wildcat ready to spring on its prey.
He tailed them into San Antonio, but at some point he lost them, maybe getting caught in the congested traffic. Laney didn’t have time to worry about it because they arrived at the hospital and she was whisked up to the triage room on the delivery floor. From there, she was transferred into a large, comfortable birthing room, where Carol and Jo stayed with her, offering good company and distraction to keep her from getting too anxious about the whole process.
It was several hours before the contractions became regular and painful, but once she crested the first hill, her labor accelerated into full speed ahead. Eventually Carol stepped out for a moment, presumably to let Grant and Frank know how things were going—and Slade, of course, who probably needed the update more than anyone.
Carol came back and reported that he had, indeed, found the hospital and had been admitted to the ward with the special code Grant had texted him. Word had it that Grant and Frank, both experienced in the unpredictability of childbirth, had each grabbed a cup of coffee and were playing cards outside the room. Slade, on the other hand, was apparently prowling right outside the door. Carol laughingly said she wasn’t certain his hat would make it through the process.
Laney remembered how nervous he’d been the day he’d first taken her to see Delia. He’d been lumbering around then, too. She hoped the waiting room here at the hospital gave him a little bit more room to stretch, because she had the feeling he was in for a long night.
After that everything became fuzzy as the contractions started coming one after another in rapid succession. She pulled inside herself, concentrating on her birth coaches and the breathing she’d been taught to use.
Baby Beckett arrived just after half past two in the morning. During the delivery Laney was in so much pain she couldn’t think beyond the last contraction, but the moment she heard the baby’s cry, her pain was forgotten.
Carol pressed a hand to her sweaty forehead and brushed her hair back with her palm. “It’s a boy, honey. You have a son.”
“Can I— Is he healthy?”
“They’re cleaning him up right now, dear. Isn’t this exciting? Your baby is here! Ten fingers and ten toes,” Jo assured her.
Laney was incredibly tired, but joy filled her heart so full she thought it would burst when the nurse placed her baby in her arms. She was so choked up she wasn’t sure she could speak, but she managed one word.
“Slade.”
“I’ll go get him now, honey,” Carol assured her. “I’m sure all the men are anxious to see this little one, but I have no doubt that Slade is the most eager of the three of them.
She stared down at the tiny child in her arms and breathed a prayer of thanksgiving. The baby had a thatch of thick brown hair on top of his head and the clearest, bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
Brody’s eyes.
Slade was the first into the room but not the first one to her bedside. He hung back, hat in hand, shifting from one booted foot to the other while the older men came forward and took turns congratulating her on the baby’s birth, giving all of the expected ooh’s and aah’s in all the right places.
“All right, you two,” Jo said, rounding up Frank and Grant. “Why don’t we go get something from the cafeteria. I’m starving.”
“Cafeteria’s closed,” Frank said with a shake of his head. “It’s nearly three in the morning.”
The look Jo gave Frank made Laney chuckle. Jo’s eyes widened and she jerked her head toward Slade. “Then we’ll find a vending machine.”
“Oh,” Frank said, his voice gruff. “You want to give Slade and Laney some time alone. Why didn’t you just say that in the first place, woman?”
Jo sighed and rolled her eyes. “See what I have to put up with? Grant and Carol, would you like anything from the vending machine?” She gave the last couple of words enough extra emphasis to get a grunt out of Frank.
“We’ll join you,” Carol said, and Grant nodded.
“We’ll be back to check on you soon, dear,” Jo said, patting Laney’s hand. “Congratulations again on bringing that sweet little one into this world. He’s so beautiful. You’ve done Brody proud.”
Tears sprang to Laney’s eyes, but they were tears of joy.
Slade tentatively approached her bedside. His face was lined with concern but his eyes glittered with excitement.
“Hey, princess,” he whispered with all the reverence of someone in the middle of a church service. He rolled the brim of his hat in his fists. “You’re okay?”
Laney chuckled. “I’m better than okay. I’ve never been happier.”
He leaned forward and tilted his head so he could get a better look at the baby.
“It’s a boy?” His face was full of such wonder it was almost as if he’d never seen a newborn baby before.
She nodded and adjusted her son so Slade could get a better look at him.
“Slade,” she said with a soft smile, first at her baby and then at the man standing respectfully at her side. “Meet Brody Beckett.”
Chapter Twelve
Brody Beckett.
Slade was in awe. Laney had delivered a son, and he was as beautiful and perfect as his parents. He couldn’t swallow around the lump of emotion in his throat and his heart was beating so fast he was certain Laney must be able to hear it.
“He’s beautiful,” Slade whispered, running his palm across the baby’s forehead, then lifting his hand to brush the back of his fingers against Laney’s soft cheek. Her hair was sticking to her temples and she looked as if she’d run a marathon, but to Slade she had never looked better. “And you, too, princess.”
“Well, I’ll take the compliment on Baby Brody’s behalf, but if you are going to stand there and tell me I look good I’m going to send you away for fibbing.”
Slade crossed his index finger over his heart. “I mean it. I do.”
As he’d paced out in front of the birthing room for hours on end waiting for the baby’s birth, he’d gone back and forth between worrying about Laney and rehearsing what he was going to say to her when he saw her. But the moment he’d seen Laney with Baby Brody tucked safely in her arms, his mind went blank. He’d been mortified when Jo had suggested he needed to be alone with Laney—as if they were a couple.
A man could dream. He could plan. But the moment he’d stepped into the room and had seen the glowing new mother with her baby, a whole new set of emotions had overtaken him, feelings he’d never before experienced.
He wasn’t sure his heart could take it, just looking at her soft smile and tender gaze. He’d been thinking of a thousand ways to approach the subject of her future, but now there were no words. He wasn’t worthy of this woman or little Brody. Th
ey deserved so much more than he could give them.
Laney shifted to one side of the bed and patted the space beside her. “Sit here for a second.”
He’d never felt so awkward in his life as he perched clumsily where she had indicated. “Okay, but only for a moment. You need to spend some time alone with Baby Brody. And I’m sure you need your rest.”
“Well, that much is true. I am exhausted, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“You are?”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised. You’ve supported me through everything the last couple of months. Of course I want you here.”
He shook his head. He’d done everything except support her. Had she so quickly forgotten how big of a jerk he’d been when she’d first come to Serendipity?
“Would you like to hold little Brody?”
“Me? I—” Slade hedged. He’d never actually held a newborn and had no idea what he was doing. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt the little guy.
Laney adjusted his arm and held the baby out to him, showing him how to cradle the baby’s neck in his hand.
Slade was quivering inside and he wondered if Laney could see the way he was shaking. He stared down at the infant for a long moment, in complete awe of the little one. The curl of his ears, his button of a nose, the way he sucked noisily on his fist. But most of all, Slade was struck by his bright blue eyes, unfocused but nonetheless intent on Slade’s face.
“He has Brody’s eyes,” Laney said, as if she’d read his mind.
He nodded and swallowed hard. “And your hair.”
She chuckled. “Yes, I suppose he does.”
“Brody would be proud,” he murmured.
When he glanced up at her he found her big brown eyes were full of tears and her lips were quivering.
“Hey, I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Not today, of all days.”
She blinked back her tears but her smile was wide and genuine. “I’m not sad, Slade. These are tears of joy. I know Brody would be proud of his son.”
