After a long silence, Jared dropped his chin to her shoulder and rested his cheek against hers. “Tell me how you feel about this. Really.”
“Scared. Worried. Confused.” She swallowed hard. “Afraid of what you’re going to say next.”
Another silence stretched so long that she finally squeezed her eyes shut and gathered the remnants of her courage. “Your mom told me how ending your other engagement cost you a very advantageous marriage. How that will hurt your future. Or your sister’s. And now...now this. I am so, so sorry. If...if you want your freedom, I’ll understand. I can be out of here in a few hours, and—”
“Stop.” His voice was low and fierce. “Unless that’s what you really want.”
“I know you’re an honorable guy. It’s one of the things I love about you. But if you don’t want to saddle yourself with all of this, I’ll understand.”
“Just tell me one thing. Do you want to keep this baby?”
Aghast, she pulled away and turned to face him. “You don’t need to even ask that question. I may not have experience with anything except a dysfunctional family, but there’s no way I could ever end this life inside me. And there’s no way I could ever give it up. So you see? This is a good chance for you to leave—before things get messy and complicated.”
He swore softly under his breath. “You don’t know me at all if you think I’d walk out on you. I’m your husband.”
“And that can be fixed. Just ask your mom and her friend Lionel.”
Jared rested his hands on her shoulders. “There’s nothing I need to ask him. It’s you and me, babe—now and forever.”
Her heart lifted on an ember of hope. “Really?”
He sighed with obvious relief. “We can make it. It’ll maybe be a little tough for a few years, but hey—we’ve got scholarships and good loans, and with our part-time jobs...” He kissed the tip of her nose. “We’re in this together for the long haul. And hey—this way, we’ll be young enough to really enjoy our family.”
She leaned against him, absorbing his warmth, savoring the solid muscle of his chest. Was it possible that things could work out? “I love you,” she whispered against his shirt. “There couldn’t be a more wonderful guy than you in the entire world.”
He rocked her in his arms, as if slow dancing to music that only he could hear. “You and I
are more alike than you know. Neither of us had it easy as kids. But we’re going to do this right.”
THE NEXT EIGHT MONTHS passed in a blur. Late-night study sessions. Tests and papers and labs. Spring term followed by summer school, and then the start of the fall semester. By then, Kate felt as unwieldy as a Holstein ready to deliver triplets.
The summer job she’d started in June at a nearby drugstore had helped keep groceries on the table, but now unseasonably hot and humid September weather had descended. The air conditioner at the store couldn’t keep up, and even with the fans blowing and the windows open at home, she felt miserably hot and sticky. She spent more and more hours at the library, just trying not to melt.
She’d been able to hide her pregnancy until this month with baggy flannel shirts over loose overalls—a common uniform for ag students on campus, luckily. But T-shirts were more revealing, and the manager had frowned at her today, then muttered something about cutting her hours.
Lifting boxes in the back storeroom probably hadn’t been the best idea, but she’d been desperate to prove that she could still pull her own weight.
With temperatures approaching ninety and the humidity at least that high, even the library didn’t provide enough respite, so she’d gone home to study.
She stretched, glancing at the clock and wishing Jared was home. But he’d gone to a two-day law conference in Chicago and wouldn’t return until tomorrow night. Lucky guy—conference hotels were invariably air-conditioned to almost chilly, which would feel just about right today.
She winced as a muscle cramp tightened across her lower back.
Despite lifting those boxes earlier, she’d been careful to avoid doing anything that might endanger the baby.
Another muscle spasm radiated across the same area. More intense this time—and a frisson of alarm shot through her.
It was too early. The doctor at the free clinic had given her a due date four weeks from now.
And worse, Jared wasn’t in town.
She swallowed a bitter laugh as images from recent TV commercials flashed through her thoughts.
Perfect, sunlit nurseries.
Doting grandparents, smiling into a lace-festooned bassinet, hugging the daughter who had given them a precious grandchild.
There’d be none of that for her.
When she’d first called her mother to tell her about the pregnancy, Francine had blearily said it was bad news and would ruin Kate’s life.
Sylvia, her usual friendly and loving self, had been appalled at this additional complication that would ruin her precious son’s future. She’d been coldly polite over Easter and the Fourth of July, and she’d never called for any warm and happy chats about the baby, though Jared always brought the subject up anyway, each time they saw her. Julia—wide-eyed and subdued—had clearly heard their mother’s diatribes at home and kept her own careful distance from them.
Nope, it was just the two of them, and now Jared wasn’t even here. But this was just a simple muscle spasm, nothing more. It had to be that. Please, Lord...
But that "spasm" came back again, and again. And for the first time in her life, Kate knew she’d come up against something she couldn’t face alone.
ALONE had certainly needed clarification. Even with an army of strangers surrounding her, she’d never felt more alone.
Kate’s contractions started in earnest an hour later, then rapidly escalated to a steady eight minutes apart. By three o’clock in the morning, she gave up and took Murphy to the neighbor’s place, then drove herself to the hospital, hoping she’d be sent home at least until Jared’s return in the evening.
The nurse in the ER didn’t appear very sympathetic as she ordered Kate into a wheelchair and called for a volunteer to take her upstairs. “You want to wait another fourteen hours? You’ll be a momma by then.”
The nurses upstairs were even less encouraging about a delay, and ten minutes later, Kate was gowned and admitted after making a quick call home and leaving a message on the machine.
The bright lights of the hospital had seemed warm and welcoming when she arrived, and she’d felt a momentary sense of relief.
The labor and delivery rooms bustled with activity and people. Nurses. Nursing students. A flock of residents who looked even younger than her, and who were probably in the first days of their OB rotation, given their nervous gestures and surreptitious glances at the pocket-size references crammed into their lab coats.
Not so fast, little one, she whispered under her breath. Maybe your daddy can still get here in time.
But four hours later, her contractions were coming hard and fierce, and she was ready to do anything to have the baby come now, whether Jared was here or not.
Every so often a herd of people in white coats trooped into her room to listen to the baby’s heartbeat and to check her IV, blood pressure and dilation—which had gone exactly nowhere.
Three centimeters at four o’clock in the morning, then six at ten o’clock.
By midafternoon, the doctor started a Pitocin drip. At five, she came back and broke Kate’s water, then began murmuring to the nurses about starting Nubain for the pain, and Kate first heard the words epidural and C-section.
An hour later, a different nurse came in with a bright smile. “We’re doing a quick ultrasound, and then the doc is coming in so you two can talk.”
Exhausted, Kate concentrated on her breathing, trying not to steel herself against the searing crescendo of yet another contraction. “I wish my husband were here,” she whispered through parched lips.
The nurse made sympathetic noises as she handed over a minuscule
amount of ice chips in a paper cup. “I’m sure you do, honey. But nature takes its own course.”
“WELL, WELL,” THE DOCTOR said with a smile. “Aren’t you the surprise.”
Kate rolled her head on the pillow to look at her.
“There’s nothing in your records about this, but it sometimes happens. Even after repeated ultrasounds during a pregnancy, we can miss seeing things.”
Her heart abruptly lodging in her throat, Kate stared at the doctor and forgot to breathe for a moment. “Is...is something wrong?”
“Goodness, no—though you’re going to be a tad busier than you thought.” The doctor’s smile widened as she looked over her shoulder and beckoned, and then Jared was suddenly there by the bed, wearing a blue hospital gown and cap, a mask loosely draped around his neck.
“Hi there,” he said softly, his eyes warm with love and concern as he took her hand and brushed a kiss against her cheek. “Looks like you’ve had a big day.”
It took a moment for everything to register.
She reached for him, then fell back against the pillows and looked at the doctor. “Busy?”
The doctor beamed. “There are two little ones waiting to meet you. It happens sometimes—a surprise to everyone. But we’re going to need to take you up to surgery right away. There’s a bit of a traffic jam going on, and you could labor until the Fourth of July and not make any progress.”
Kate and Jared both stared at her in shock. “Two?” they said at the same time.
“An extra blessing, don’t you think? But one of them is showing signs of distress, so we need to get in there and help out, STAT.” The doctor nodded at someone standing in the doorway, and immediately, two orderlies came in with a gurney. “We’ll use a regional anesthetic so you can stay awake, and your husband can be there for you. See you upstairs.”
THE DELIVERY ROOM ON the surgical floor might have been more daunting if Kate hadn’t recognized a lot of the equipment and supplies from those she’d seen every day at the vet school. The friendly chatter of the surgical team added an extra measure of comfort.
The Minnesota Twins’ win last night.
Fishing.
The hospital’s annual employee picnic.
Then an abrupt silence fell.
The stainless-steel table was cold and hard against her back through the thin drape, but the intense expressions in the eyes of the surgical team, coupled with their ongoing silence, filled her with an even greater chill.
“Is something wrong?” She gripped Jared’s hand tighter. She heard the panic rising in her voice and tried to quell it, but her anxiety exploded. “What’s going on? Tell me!”
Another masked face moved into her field of vision and loomed over her. “You’ve got a beautiful little girl who’s doing just fine. You’ll get to see her in a minute. Your son is having a bit of trouble, but they’re transferring him to NICU right away. Just hang on.”
“Will he be okay? Is he all right?”
Above Jared’s own mask, she could see his face blanch and knew he was looking over the draped curtain that had been set up across her chest to the frantic activity taking place across the room.
And then, the activity suddenly ceased.
The world spun as she gripped Jared’s hand, too frightened to speak. Even before his soul-crushing words, she knew that they’d lost their son.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
PROPPED UP AGAINST a pile of pillows in her hospital bed, Kate stared at her new daughter in awe.
Until this day, every thought about her pregnancy had been tainted with worry about money. How she’d manage her vet school schedule in the fall. Whether or not she and Jared could make it through two more grueling years of school.
Who knew it would be like this—this instant, primal rush of fierce protectiveness and love? The unimaginable joy of holding this warm, feather-light bundle of soft blankets?
A perfect, tiny hand tightly clutched her finger, while those beautiful dark eyes were wide and fixed on her face, as if determined to memorize every detail of the one who’d brought her into the world.
Tiny, perfect toes, like small pink pearls, peeked out below the end of the receiving blanket.
Casey was the name she and Jared had agreed on if the baby was a girl, and the name seemed just right.
On a rush of emotion as swift and unexpected and overwhelming as a fierce summer storm, Kate’s hot tears came again, spilling down her face. Uncontrollable sobs racked her body, sending deep, physical pain slicing through her belly.
One pink and perfect child in her arms.
The other—their precious son, Collin—had grown cold within her embrace not two hours ago, his life slipping away on a faint, almost soundless sigh.
The highest, most unbelievable joy.
Then, in a heartbeat, that joy had shattered against the razor-sharp rocks in the deepest valley of grief.
The agony of it welled up inside her until she could barely breathe, and she lifted her arms to snuggle Casey closer to her chest, needing the child’s warmth as solace...though she knew nothing could ever replace the one who was gone.
“Do you want me to take her for a while?” Jared asked, his voice raw and his face so ravaged with grief that he was almost a stranger.
“No!” A keening wail rose in the room from a voice she barely recognized as her own.
He jerked back as if she’d slapped him.
“You aren’t the only one hurting here.” The sharp voice came from the open doorway and both of them startled at seeing Sylvia standing there, her face pale and strained, her mouth tight.
She’d actually come? In disbelief, Kate watched her mother-in-law come across the room to give Jared an awkward hug.
“You should have called me sooner,” she admonished him as she stepped back. “This can’t have been easy.”
“It’s been the best—and the worst—day of my life,” he said wearily. “I don’t know whether to celebrate or just sit down and cry.”
“Let’s take a look, then.” Sylvia turned and took the baby from Kate’s arms, pulling the blanket back to get a better look. “She’s lovely. She looks just like your sister, except for the eyes—and those are definitely yours.”
“But they’re so dark.”
“All babies’ are, but they’ll change. Just look at the shape, and those long, thick lashes. Most definitely yours.”
The aching emptiness in her arms made Kate want to launch out of bed and snatch her baby back.
“It’s such a terrible shame the other baby didn’t make it,” Sylvia continued, reaching out to rest a hand against Jared’s cheek. “I’ll bet he was just as beautiful. With a little more rest, less stress...well, maybe things would have turned out much differently.”
Kate blinked as the words registered, then sliced through her heart one by one, as neatly as any surgical blade. Less stress. More rest. Was it her fault that their son died?
She drew in a strangled breath as the implications settled inside her, threatening to crush her under a massive anvil of guilt.
Oh, God—what have I done?
COLLIN HAD SEEMED PERFECT in every way, and the autopsy revealed no specific cause of death...which compounded her guilt.
Had it been her lack of sleep?
Those endless, long hours of study?
The stress of striving for a top GPA?
The hours on her feet at the store, where she might’ve lifted too many heavy boxes, and maybe put some sort of stress or torsion on the umbilical cord, briefly depriving him of oxygen?
The reassurance of the labor and delivery nurses, her doctor, and later her best friends about not taking blame for Collin’s death did little to ease the piercing grief that dogged Kate month after month after month.
That dark, endless tunnel seemed to stretch onward forever, offering no hope of ever reaching sunshine. How could it, when nothing in this lifetime could bring her precious son back?
As the weeks and months passed, Jared gre
w more silent, more distant, more tentative when he spoke. He’d been lost in his own sorrows, too...though his highs and lows never quite paralleled Kate’s, so they retreated into themselves rather than turning to each other.
The first ten months had been terrible...yet they’d grown closer, too, in the dark of night, while sleeping wrapped in each other’s arms. But while loving Casey immeasurably, they’d struggled to keep up a happy front so she could experience normal family life instead of parents who were mired in grief.
Parents who looked into her sweet, beautiful face and also saw the son who was gone.
But now, with Casey’s first birthday tomorrow, Kate took her out of the bathtub for their nightly game of peekaboo with the bath towel and realized—with dawning surprise—that it had been a week since she’d had to turn away from her daughter to mask her tears.
Kate hid behind a corner of the towel, then popped out again, and Casey’s belly laugh washed over her like a healing balm. “Are you Mommy’s best girl?”
Casey threw herself into Kate’s arms, laughing and planting damp kisses on her cheek.
“Looks like fun,” Jared said, his low voice filled with amusement. “Wish I could play.”
“You and I can play later,” Kate teased. “When Miss Giggles goes to bed. But if you’d like to take her right now, it would be a huge help. Eight or nine storybooks would just about give me enough time to straighten up this bathroom and finish the dishes.”
He stepped into the room and hunkered down next to Kate as she dried Casey with the towel, then rose to use the changing table to put on her diaper and soft cotton jammies.
Even without looking at him, Kate could feel his warmth and catch the faint scent of his aftershave, and she felt a familiar tingle of love spread through her.
The moment she set Casey loose, the little girl raced to her toys in the living room, her chubby bare feet slapping against the hardwood floors, her wide-stanced gait sending them both into laughter.
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