by Day Leclaire
“And thank heaven for that!” Ruth muttered.
“Do you have the ring, Nick?” Henry prompted.
“Right here.” He yanked it off his pinkie, forced Dani’s clenched fist open and shoved the diamond-studded band onto her finger. He didn’t bother waiting for the judge this time. “You’re mine now, Danielle Colter. Through the good times and the bad, in sickness, health and childbirth. Hell, sweetheart, you’re just plain stuck with me.”
“You have such a way with words, Nick. I wish—” She closed her eyes and winced.
“What do you wish, sweetheart?”
“That I had something to give you.”
“You will soon enough,” he retorted roughly. “Henry, are we through here?”
“Almost. If anyone has any reason these two should not be lawfully wed, let him speak now or forever hold his peace.” He didn’t wait for an objection. “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Nick gave his wife a regretful look. “Somehow, I doubt there’s time for that.” Grabbing the back of the chair, he spun it around and rolled it briskly toward the door. “Clear a path, folks! Henry, think you can arrange for a police escort?”
The judge was already on the phone. “I’ll have them meet you by the front entrance. Don’t panic, man. We’ll get her to the hospital in time.”
“I never panic,” Nick retorted. Although he’d like to. Right at this moment, he’d kill for that ability.
Ruth’s mouth dropped open as understanding set in. She grabbed her husband’s arm. “Oh, my goodness. She’s in labor. Danielle! You’re in labor?”
“I thought it was a backache, but—” She moaned softly.
“Oh, dear. Just like when I had Richey. By the time I realized I was in labor—” Ruth’s eyes widened. “Unless you want her having that baby in the middle of the courthouse hallway, you’d better hurry, Nick!”
“Thanks, Ruth. I’ll keep that in mind.”
He whisked the chair from the judge’s chambers, through the outer office and into the hallway, grateful for the sturdy castors. It was almost as good as a wheelchair and a hell of a lot more comfortable. Dani clung to the armrest with one hand and anchored Jamie’s hat with the other. “Hang on, sweetheart. The police will get us there in plenty of time.”
He hoped.
If he hadn’t been so worried about Dani, the reactions to the people they passed on their mad dash through the hallways would have been amusing. At one corner, a young woman lawyer struggling to get out of their path collided with a clerk. Her briefcase went in one direction, strewing the contents across the polished floor. His files flew skyward, raining papers on everyone within fifteen feet of the crash site.
“Maybe we should stop and help,” Dani said uncertainly, shoving the wobbly hat brim from her eyes.
“I think we have more important matters to take care of,” he managed to say with amazing restraint. “Besides, your relatives aren’t far behind. They can lend a hand.”
He risked a quick look over his shoulder, stifling a shout of laughter. Ruth and her mob had reached the disaster area. Far from helping, they roared straight through the middle of the confusion with all the speed and determination of a runaway train. Papers flew into the air again. The clerk toppled over in a dejected heap in the middle of the floor. The lawyer’s briefcase careened off a wall, spilling the few bits and pieces she’d managed to collect. She let out a shriek of outrage, picked up her briefcase and hurled it after them. Everyone else stood around, laughing helplessly.
Finally reaching the front entrance of the courthouse, Nick plucked Dani out of the chair. “End of the road, sweetheart.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Steps. We get to hike it from here. I don’t see an ambulance yet, but the police have arrived.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. Her taut belly was pushed tight against his chest, and he could feel her muscles contract with the force of her labor. He gritted his teeth and took the steps as quickly as safety would permit.
Dammit! He shouldn’t have allowed the ceremony to continue. It had been pure selfishness on his part. He should have said to hell with the wedding and taken her straight to the hospital. If anything happened to their baby as a result of his negligence, he’d never forgive himself.
The officer stood by the squad car, and as they approached, he hastened to open the back door. Nick gently set Dani on her feet. She looked at him, her eyes huge and dark and slightly bewildered.
“Oh, dear,” she whispered.
“What? What is it?” Please! Don’t let her deliver their baby on the sidewalk, he prayed desperately. “What’s wrong now?”
She glanced down. “I’m afraid I’ve sprung a leak.”
It only took an instant to grasp what had happened. “Her water’s just broken,” Nick explained to the officer—a very young, fresh-scrubbed man who instantly turned pink around the ears. “We’re going to need to get her to the hospital. Fast. Do you have a blanket we can use?”
Fortunately, the officer was intelligent and levelheaded. He provided them with a blanket and waited until Nick had helped Dani into the back seat. Then he flipped on his emergency lights and took off, weaving through traffic with speed and skill as well as the liberal use of his siren. Apparently he wasn’t any more interested in delivering a baby in the back of his squad car than Nick.
“The contractions are coming closer together,” Dani announced nervously, before breaking off with a groan. Her hat trembled from the force of the contraction, dipping to caress her cheek as though in sympathy.
Nick locked his arms around her and cradled her close.
Hurry the hell up! he silently willed. As though intercepting his thoughts, the officer slammed his foot down on the gas pedal. “Five minutes, sweetheart. Just hang in there for five more minutes.”
“I don’t think I can wait that long! I need to push.”
“No, you don’t,” he informed her grimly. “Not yet.”
“Yes, I do!” She glared, her eyes glittering with ebony fire beneath a tumble of night-black curls. “It’s my baby. I should know whether or not I need to—” She broke off, her hands clamping around his arms hard enough to cut the circulation.
“Don’t push! You’re supposed to—” What the hell was she supposed to do? He’d never felt so helpless and unprepared in his life.
“Breathe?” the officer offered helpfully.
Nick grasped the suggestion like a lifeline. “Yeah, breathe. You’re supposed to breathe.”
The instant she could speak again, she snapped, “I know that! I’m not a complete idiot. I did take lessons on childbirth and labor, you know.”
He’d missed out on that, he realized with a pang. She’d attended those classes alone, or with someone else. He forced the thought from his mind, forced himself to concentrate on helping her. “Well, are you using them?”
“Yes, I’m using them! Haven’t you been listening? I’m breathing loud enough to crack glass. Or did you think all these noises I’ve been making are how I—” A muffled shriek caught in her throat.
Nick swore beneath his breath. “Pant. Try that, will you? I read somewhere panting’s supposed to help.”
“You want me to pant?” she demanded the instant she’d recovered her voice. “How ’bout if you try to pant while I lock your innards in a vise and squeeze hard enough to—” She groaned.
He held her closer. “Trust me, honey. My innards are in a vise.”
She buried her head against his shoulder, and her wedding hat tumbled to the seat in a forgotten heap of ivory lace and satin ribbons. “Why did you get me pregnant? All I wanted was to sleep with you, not have your baby.”
The officer’s ears turned pink again. “Did you now,” Nick murmured. “I guess this time it turned out to be a package deal.”
“I order à la carte and you give me a nine-course meal! You messed up, Colter.”
Nick couldn’t help hi
mself. He smiled into the silky black curls clinging to her temple. “I’m really sorry,” he said, careful to keep all hint of amusement from his voice. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t plan for you to get pregnant.”
“Well, it doesn’t make me feel better. And you did a damn fine job for somebody without a plan.” Another contraction hit, and air hissed between her gritted teeth. “You should have considered this possibility when you seduced me. Why didn’t you? You’re supposed to be the brains of the operation, not me.”
“In case you didn’t notice, my brain wasn’t the one in charge that night,” he muttered.
“Oh, great. You decide to cut loose for the first time in your blueprinted life and look what happens!”
The policeman glanced in the rearview mirror. “She must be in transition. That’s the worst stage of labor right toward the end. Real painful. They always talk nasty when they’re in transition. She doesn’t really mean what she’s saying.”
“I do so mean it! We were supposed to have a one-night and. And this is what I get for a single lousy night of incredible lovemaking.”
That gave him pause. He lifted an eyebrow. “Incredible?”
“All right. Spectacular. Spectacular lovemaking. It still should have been more.”
Trying to keep pace with her special form of logic took every brain cell he possessed. “What should have been more?”
“I should have gotten more than one night of spectacular out of all this agony. For what I’m going through I deserve months, maybe years worth of spectacular.”
“I’ll see what I can do next time.”
“There’s not going to be a next time!” She grabbed the lapels of his tux, practically ripping them free of the seams. “There is never going to be a next time. That was your one shot, and you hit the bull’s-eye. Congratulations, darlin’.”
“Definitely transition,” the policeman muttered.
Nick eased perspiration-dampened curls from her forehead, not the least dismayed by her declaration. They were married now. He’d have a full year in which to change her mind. Plenty of opportunities to hit more bull’s-eyes. “But it was one hell of a hit, wasn’t it. sweetheart?”
In a heartbeat, anger slipped into sorrow. “I haven’t even picked out names.” Tears welled in her ink-dark eyes. “We’ll have to call him ‘Hey You.’ He’ll end up with a complex and hate us forever.”
“If it’s a boy we’ll name him Austin, after your father. Or Richard, after your brother. If it’s a girl...” He took a risk. A huge risk. “What do you think of Abigail?”
“Abigail?” She tried it out, whispering the name to herself. “I like it. It’s sweet. A little old-fashioned, but pretty.”
“So we’re decided? If we have a girl, we’ll call her Abigail. And if it’s a boy—”
“What about your father? Don’t you want to name a son after him?”
“I think Austin would appreciate it more.”
Another contraction hit, one that took forever to pass. “Dear heaven, Nick. It hurts. Why does having a baby have to hurt so much?”
He hated being helpless, hated it more than anything in recent memory. “I’m sorry. If I could feel the pain for you, I would.”
“It wouldn’t work,” she informed him sadly.
It was an irrational conversation—a totally ridiculous conversation——but it seemed to keep her mind off the baby’s desperate rush to be born. “Why not?”
The police car screeched to a halt outside the emergency room entrance, and she glanced at him as the car door beside her flew open, her gaze filled with sorrow. “It wouldn’t work because you can’t feel.”
Nick stood in the doorway of Dani’s hospital room, holding a huge bouquet of flowers and feeling more awkward than he had in his entire life.
She looked up just then and smiled in delight. “Are those for me? You didn’t have to do that.”
He shrugged. “Christopher never did get back in time. And Austin was right. You deserve flowers on your wedding day.” He walked in and handed her the arrangement. The riot of colors stood out against the ivory and lace of her Victorian-style nightgown, and the trail of ribbons wrapping the bouquet cascaded off the bed. She looked more like a bride than a woman who’d just given birth. He plucked two blossoms from the display and worked them into the curls tumbling down her back. “You deserve more. A lot more. But this will have to do for now.”
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” Dani nodded toward a nearby bassinet. “And speaking of beautiful...”
Nick tore his gaze from his wife and studied his daughter. Emotion choked him, and he found he couldn’t speak. He reached out, but hesitated at the last moment, unable to bring himself to touch their daughter. She was too perfect. The most perfect creature he’d ever seen. Yesterday, he’d felt this little one kicking within her mother’s womb. And now he could count each finger and toe. How the hell had that happened? It almost defied comprehension.
“Do you want to hold her?” Dani asked softly.
“You don’t mind?”
“Of course, I don’t mind. You’re her father.”
Ever so gently, he slipped one hand beneath the baby’s back and head. Lord, she was tiny. So tiny she practically fit within his palm. With exquisite care, he eased her into the crook of his arm. She stared at him with great, solemn eyes and blinked her lush lashes. Then she heaved a mighty yawn for one so tiny and fell instantly asleep. Just like that, she fell asleep. He couldn’t believe it.
“Abigail,” he murmured, brushing a finger across the downy crown of her auburn-tufted head. “Little Abigail.”
Dani eyed him curiously. “Is that a family name?”
“No. it’s... just a name.”
The nurse bustled in, wheeling a bassinet. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to relieve you of this little lady. The doctor wants to give her a quick examination, and Momma here should get her rest.” She didn’t give Nick time to argue, but swept Abigail from his arms and placed her in the bassinet with the ease of long practice. Then she trundled the baby from the room.
Nick watched his daughter leave, amazed at how empty his arms felt. He’d held Abigail for only a few short minutes, and yet the attachment had been instant and irrevocable. He wanted her back. He wanted his child where he could see her, hear her, protect her. He took a step toward the doorway.
“It’s been a wild day,” Dani murmured.
He stopped in his tracks, torn between the demands of fatherhood and those of a husband. One look at his wife, and the husband within him won. Crossing to her side, he rested a hip on the edge of the bed. Dark smudges etched lilac semicircles beneath her eyes, and he traced them with his thumb. “In twenty-four short hours you’ve become a bride... and a mother. Quite a feat.”
“I’m a fast worker,” she said with a self-conscious smile.
She wanted to say something more, he could tell, but clearly had trouble summoning the words. Her hands closed around the sheet, knotting the crisp folds, and he knew it must be serious. Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach. Would she tell him to leave? Would she announce that their marriage had been a mistake? Did she plan to explain that now that Abigail bore his name, there was. no point in waiting a year to divorce?
“What’s wrong?” he prompted, careful to keep the question light. Emotionless. Calm. After all, he was a man who couldn’t feel.
“I...I owe you an apology.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “I said some terrible things to you on the way to the hospital. I don’t know what got into me. Well, I do, but... I’m really sorry if I offended you. You didn’t deserve that.”
The sharp sting of relief brought a tight smile to his lips. “No apology necessary. You didn’t offend me.”
“I’m glad, because I don’t think I could have managed Abigail’s birth without you.”
“Your family would have helped.”
“It wouldn’t have been the same.”
No, it wouldn’t. Ce
rtainly not for him. He’d held Dani in his arms that final half-hour of labor, soothing and encouraging as she’d fought to bring their daughter into the world. And she’d clung to him as confession after confession spilled from her lips. She’d wanted a baby. For years. She’d hoped for a boy. No, a girl. No, twins. Then, nothing mattered except the health of their child.
Next came regret. She’d wanted to call him. She’d picked up the phone hundreds of times, but had been too afraid. He’d have insisted on marriage, she explained.
“You know why.”
“Yes. But I didn’t want to get married again. Not until I found someone I could trust. Someone capable of loving me. I can’t live like I did before, without any emotional support from my husband. I’m not a cactus.”
A cactus? “No, you’re not,” he agreed. At that point, he’d have agreed with just about anything she’d said, no matter how illogical.
“I need fresh air and light and fertilizer. And I need water. Lots of it. I can’t do all the gardening. Every once in a while, I need to be watered and weeded, too. Peter... He kept forgetting. He dried me up and choked me out.”
Nick had understood then. And every word hammered like a deathblow, because she was right. Peter, for all his charm and cleverness, had been totally self-absorbed. He’d been a taker, collecting what he considered his due as he skated through life. And though Nick had never skated through life, he was a taker, as well. He’d lived his life in solitude, cut off from people and emotions. Oh, he wanted what Dani offered, the promise lurking within those great, dark eyes. He wanted her warmth and caring and passion, just as he wanted the baby they’d created.
But the painful truth was...he had nothing to offer in exchange. He could take. But he couldn’t give.
“The head is crowning,” the doctor had announced at that point. “Watch in the mirror if you want to see the birth.”
The next few minutes were the most miraculous of Nick’s life. He continued to sit behind his wife, holding her tight against his chest, supporting her as she labored to deliver their child. He watched in amazement as the muscles of her womb rippled and contorted in this final, Herculean task.
