by Cassie Miles
Bianca, who made no pretense of helping with the salad preparation, rested her elbows on the counter and leaned toward her. “How did it happen?”
“Aren’t you a little too old for a lecture on the birds and the bees?”
“I’m serious.” Bianca tapped an aggressive little fingernail on the polished marble. “You’re a careful, smart, methodical woman. I want to know how you ended up having unprotected sex.”
“I didn’t. The condom broke.”
“An easy explanation,” Bianca said. “It’s not enough. According to your statement, you didn’t know Troy well. Yet, you went to bed with him. Is that typical behavior?”
Olivia had the distinct impression that her sister was cross-examining her. “Why are you doing this?”
“You’re my sister, and I care about you. And about my unborn nephew. Something happened that threw you into Troy’s arms, and I want to know what it was.”
Her mother turned toward them. “As do I.”
Two sets of bright blue eyes focused on her. Olivia didn’t want to talk about that night. She hadn’t told anyone but Troy about the traumatic events that drove her to his doorstep, desperately seeking warmth and consolation. “It’s none of your business.”
“Did he hurt you?” her mother asked.
“No.”
Her mother circled the counter, perched on the stool beside Olivia and took both her hands. “We’ve had too many secrets in this family. It’s time for us to open up to each other.”
She squeezed her mom’s hands. Her skin was cool and damp from washing the salad vegetables. Moments ago, Olivia had demanded to be included in a top secret talk with her parents and Troy. Now the spotlight had shifted and she felt the glare of a thousand-watt bulb. Be careful what you wish for. She wanted the secrecy to end, and that meant she had to face the hard, painful truth.
“It was November,” she said. “The weather in the mountains was snowy, cold and wet. I had been working with a couple, Jarvis and Carol Rainer, for several months, and Carol was almost due.”
And now Carol was working at the clinic with Troy’s brother. It was hard to imagine. “Jarvis and Carol weren’t my typical clients. They’re very wealthy. Their house outside Dillon was practically a castle, and they had a gorgeous yacht on the lake. If they wanted special treatment for Carol’s prenatal care and delivery, they had enough money to buy a wing of a hospital.”
Bianca asked, “Is money usually a consideration for couples using a midwife?”
“Sometimes. A home birth is certainly less expensive than a hospital stay. But most people who use me are more concerned about having a natural birthing experience. That’s what Carol Rainer wanted.” Olivia remembered Carol’s easy laugh and her sturdy, athletic build. “She was diligent about following the exercises and watching her diet. Her husband wasn’t as interested in the process. He’s an aggressive businessman who doesn’t like anything he can’t control.”
“I know the type,” Bianca said. “I work for them.”
“Anyway, I had planned with Carol and Jarvis to meet at St. Agnes Hospital in Summit County when she went into labor. You’d think a powerhouse like Jarvis might insist on the most prestigious ob-gyn in the country, but St. Agnes has a great reputation. It’s a relatively new hospital, and the birthing facility is top-notch. Labor suites are spacious and comfy with electric fireplaces and mountain views through the windows. There are a couple of whirlpool baths. And you can order in gourmet food.”
Her story was about to turn ugly. She glanced toward the front of the house, hoping that Troy and her dad would come into the kitchen and interrupt.
“And then?” Bianca prompted.
“It was after dark when Jarvis called me to say that Carol was in labor. He sounded angry and hysterical. I tried to reassure him, to convince him that his wife would probably be in labor for hours, but he insisted that she was ready to deliver the baby. Either way, I didn’t think he should be driving. I told him I’d call an ambulance to pick them up. Jarvis refused. He didn’t want to wait.”
The horror of that night was fresh in her mind. She blinked and saw herself running from her cabin to her SUV, parked inside the garage. She threw the backpack with the supplies she needed to help a mother in labor into the rear and got behind the wheel. In the winter cold, her breath fogged the air. When she pulled out, her headlights illuminated the swirling snow crystals.
She continued, “It was the worst kind of weather for driving. Not a heavy snowfall but ice falling from the sky and coating the surface of the road.”
Her tires had skidded and slipped on patches of black ice. Rising tension had elevated her pulse rate to a state near panic. “When I got to the main road, I thought it would be better, but it wasn’t. The snow plows hadn’t come through. I saw the headlights from the Rainers’ Hummer. They’d gone off the road.”
Inside her head, Olivia heard herself screaming. It was an endless, all-consuming wail that tore from her lungs and assaulted her ears. Much later that night when she’d told Troy about the accident, he’d held her tight. His strength had given her courage. The heat from his body had warmed her blood.
If he hadn’t been there for her, she might have collapsed into a depression so deep that she’d never emerge. Troy had been able to understand the depth of her sadness. He’d been in battle. In his deep voice, he’d spoken of troops who were killed in combat. He had shared her sorrow and eased her pain.
“I parked at the scene of the accident. I thought I was going to fall apart, but I didn’t.”
Her training had kept her together as she leaped from her vehicle. Dragging her backpack with her equipment, she had scrambled through ankle-deep snow to the Hummer that had crashed through a barbed wire fence into a pine tree. “Jarvis ran toward me. He waved his cell phone and shouted something about a helicopter evacuation.”
“But you were close to a hospital,” Bianca said. “Why not go there?”
“Carol’s injuries were pretty bad. Even Jarvis could see that her condition was serious. He wanted the best specialists for her and the baby.”
“And your trained medical opinion didn’t matter,” Bianca concluded. “I’m surprised the Flight for Life chopper would take off in that kind of weather.”
“This helicopter belonged to the Rainer Corporation. It was Jarvis’s private transport. They had clearance to fly. Keep in mind that the weather in Denver was mild compared to what we were getting in the mountains.”
Her mom leaned forward. “What happened next, dear?”
Olivia had thought she’d burst into tears at this point, but her eyes were dry. At some level the trauma was too great and she detached herself, speaking as though these terrible events were someone else’s experience. “The impact of the crash must have been huge because the hood of the Hummer was dented, and it takes a lot to damage those beasts. The tires were buried in the wet ground beneath the snow, probably from Jarvis trying to pull away. I wrenched open the passenger side door and saw Carol. I don’t think she’d been wearing her seat belt. Her right ankle was broken. She’d whacked her forehead. Blood poured down her face. She was in hard labor. The baby was already crowning.”
Olivia had been concerned about possible internal injuries to mother and child. Delivering the baby had been the only choice. She’d tried to get Carol to listen to her, but the woman had been unable to focus. Her body was determined to push. In moments, the tiny baby boy had slipped into Olivia’s waiting hands. “He wasn’t breathing. The baby wasn’t breathing.”
She had a few minutes before the situation became serious. As long as the placenta was attached, the newborn would receive oxygenated blood through the umbilical cord. Using her finger, she had cleared the baby’s mouth. She had placed him on his mother’s stomach and rubbed hard along his backbone to stimulate breathing.
“Carol lost consciousness. She was hemorrhaging.”
“And the baby?” Bianca asked.
“Still not breathing. I don
’t know how I managed to get the bag and mask from my backpack, but I did. I got him ventilated. That should have taken care of the problem.”
But nothing she had done had any effect. Twice before, she’d been in situations where the newborn was slow to draw a first breath, but those times had been in a hospital with a whole team working to save the baby. Once they’d succeeded. The second time was a failure.
She tried infant CPR, covering his nose and mouth and exhaling shallow breaths into his body. She’d pressed on his chest between his nipples to encourage his lungs.
“He was turning blue.”
The logical portion of her brain told her that the baby had been fatally injured while he was still inside his mother’s womb, but her heart wouldn’t let her give up hope. She kept working on the tiny body.
Carol’s body convulsed as she expelled the placenta. There was so much blood.
“Jarvis and his men got Carol, me and the baby into the chopper. It was so loud. And so cold.”
She’d unzipped her parka and held the cold, lifeless baby against her chest, trying to infuse him with warmth. The seconds ticked away. Every passing minute lessened his chance for survival.
“I did everything I could. But it wasn’t enough. When the chopper got to the hospital, they pried the baby out of my arms.”
Her mother left her stool and embraced her daughter. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
“Jarvis was yelling at me, telling me that it was all my fault.”
“But it wasn’t,” Bianca said.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Someone like Jarvis would have insisted on an investigation. If he had any basis to sue you for malpractice, he would have.”
Later, Olivia had learned that the baby had sustained head and spinal injuries during the accident. He was born dead.
Carol’s condition had been critical, but she’d survived. And she was a changed woman—working at the homeless clinic and separated from Jarvis.
“I felt like it was my fault.” Olivia gave her mother a squeeze and looked into her eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever make peace with what happened. But I’ve learned to live with the sadness, and I’m grateful—so grateful—for every successful birthing I attend.”
Her mom stroked her cheek. “I’m glad you told us.”
So was Olivia. She felt supported and safe in the arms of her family. Never before had she burdened them with her personal problems, never before had she shared.
“How did Troy get involved?” Bianca asked.
“After I left the hospital, I just wandered up and down the streets. I didn’t really have a destination but I looked up and saw that I was outside Troy’s brother’s house.”
“Wait a sec,” Bianca said. “Were you dating the brother?”
“No, we’re just friends. I come into town once or twice a month to volunteer at the homeless clinic, remember?”
“Sure.” Bianca nodded. “You usually stay with me.”
“Troy’s brother, Alex, works at the clinic, too.”
“I’m liking this guy more and more,” Bianca said. “After you realized you were outside Alex’s house, then what?”
“I knew if I talked to Alex, he’d say all the right things to comfort me. But that wasn’t what I was looking for. I wanted to see Troy.”
“Does he live with his brother?”
“Most of his work is overseas or at Camp Lejeune. When he’s in Denver, he stays with his brother. Alex had fixed us up, and we’d been on two casual dates. We definitely didn’t have a relationship.”
“And yet, you went looking for him,” Bianca said. “Why?”
A very good question. She’d thought about it dozens of times. Had fate driven her toward Troy? In her subconscious mind, had she known that he was supposed to be the father of her child? She didn’t have an answer.
“After the accident, I wasn’t thinking in my right mind. Nothing made sense. All I wanted was to make love. I wanted the heat of passion to melt the cold, dead horror I felt inside. Troy was the perfect candidate. I could have wild, life-affirming sex with him and would probably never see him again.”
Olivia glanced toward her mom. This wasn’t the kind of topic they usually discussed. All kinds of secrets were being explored today.
“I understand,” her mother said.
Bianca blinked in surprise. “You do?”
“As you girls have long suspected, your father and I are involved in a profession that involves a certain amount of danger. I’ve seen my share of tragedy. I know the pain of losing a friend or an associate. It helps to be able to rekindle your spirit in passion.”
Her aristocratic, champagne-blonde mother in her smooth, beige pants outfit certainly didn’t look like the sort of woman who would be swept up in a wild, hot-blooded fervor. But she also didn’t seem like the type to be wearing an ankle holster.
Bianca glanced back and forth between both of them. “I’ll say it again. Wow.”
Chapter Nine
The GPS locator planted among Olivia’s things was proving difficult to find, even with a bug sweeper. Troy was glad. If Olivia’s dad had uncovered the device in a few moments, he would have felt like a complete fool.
They had unloaded the Range Rover and carried the luggage upstairs to the second guest bedroom. The two twin beds and flowered curtains made Troy nostalgic for the classy suite they’d stayed in last night. He watched as Richard used his electronic sweeper to go over Olivia’s huge suitcase for the third time. Finding nothing, he muttered, “Are you certain there’s a locator?”
“It’s the only way they could have picked up our trail on the highway.”
“They weren’t simply using her cell phone?”
“I disabled the GPS on her phone. My cell is encrypted and secure.” He circled the pile of luggage. “There’s still her purse, the backpack with her birthing equipment and her laptop.”
“Apparently, my daughter finds it necessary to travel with all her earthly belongings.” When he picked up the scruffy-looking backpack, her equipment rattled around like a toolbox. “What’s in here?”
“Stethoscope, fetal monitor, medical stuff.” Troy had already checked the assortment. “Also sheets, latex gloves, scrubs and a couple of teddy bears.”
Richard carefully felt along the seams. “When you first told me that someone was trying to kidnap Olivia, I found it difficult to believe.”
“Initially, I had the same reaction. Being chased down the highway from the mountains by two vehicles convinced me.”
“You never said how you extricated yourself.”
“We had a police escort into town.”
While he described Olivia’s faked labor and equally fake triplets, her dad listened with an expression of concern and amusement. “She did that? My sweet little Olivia lied to a police officer?”
“That’s right.”
Richard smoothed his white hair. “I’m proud of her for thinking fast. At the same time, it scares the hell out of me.”
“I know what you mean.”
“When I look at Olivia, I still see a little girl with a messy ponytail and freckles and scraped knees. She was a blur, always running from one thing to another with no consideration for her personal safety.”
Her fierce, energetic, adventurous spirit was how she’d gotten kidnapped as a child. According to her story, she’d thrown herself into the clutches of the kidnappers. “Protecting her isn’t going to be easy.”
“I’d like to lock her up in a bulletproof case. Being a father is the most difficult and dangerous mission I’ve ever undertaken.”
“Dangerous?”
“I’m quite sure you know what I mean.” When Richard focused, he had a ferocious intensity. In spite of the blazer with gold buttons and the polished loafers, he was a man of action. “A threat to someone you love is far more dangerous and terrifying than a bullet whizzing toward the center of your forehead.”
Troy acknowledged his logi
c with a quick nod. “You’ve done a good job with your girls. They’re both independent and strong.”
“Perhaps too much so.”
In her computer case, Richard found the GPS locator tucked into a corner. He removed the small device and studied it. “Standard issue. Nothing unusual about this equipment. It could belong to anyone.”
“It’s further proof of the threat.” Troy sat on the edge of one of the twin beds. “Before we go downstairs and join the women, we should come up with a plan of action.”
“Glad you think so.” Richard sat on the other bed, facing him. He crossed his legs and straightened the sharp crease in his trousers. “When you insisted that we share information, I feared that you were open to a free-for-all discussion.”
“I told Olivia that I’d keep her informed and listen to her opinion. But the decision when it comes to her safety is mine. You and I are the professionals. We decide what’s best.”
“And my wife,” he said. “To be quite honest, she’s probably a better spy than I am. Speaks seven languages fluently. And she remembers everything. She started with the CIA as an information analyst, but she’s not the sort of woman who is content with a desk job.”
“Much like her daughters.” Getting these women to agree to protective custody wouldn’t be easy. “I’ve analyzed the nature of the threat, and here’s what I’m thinking. The end goal isn’t to physically harm Olivia.”
Richard asked, “What’s your basis for that conclusion?”
“She said that she had the sense of being followed for several days. If someone had wanted her dead, they had plenty of opportunity. Even when we were being chased, it wasn’t a hard-core pursuit. The vehicles hung back. They weren’t trying to kill us.”
“How very reassuring.”
“That’s why I’m finding it hard to believe that the Hatari terrorists are involved. These guys are violent. They’ve lived through bloody massacres in their homeland. They think nothing of wiping out an entire village in Rwanda. They aren’t clever or subtle.”
