Once the anesthesiologist gave the go-ahead, the operation began. Cash stayed beside his wife, holding her hand, as the doctor on the other side of the screen described every move he made.
It didn’t take that long. Cash heard a baby’s cry.
“Look at those shoulders,” the doctor said in satisfaction. “Mr. Bravo, you have a son.”
Cash thought he’d sell his soul for a cigarette. “A son?” he repeated, as if the word were new to him.
“Yes,” said the doctor. “A fine, healthy son.”
Cash bent close to Abby and whispered through the mask they’d made him wear. “It’s a boy. We have a little boy, and he’s fine.” He knew she couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t care.
Behind him, Cash could hear the baby crying. A nurse had carried him to the table against the side wall, where the process of examining, weighing and initial cleaning up took place. Through this, the baby cried louder than before. Cash clutched Abby’s hand and told himself she would be okay as, on the other side of the screen, the doctor began the work of sewing her belly up again.
At last, after several minutes, the examining nurse confirmed the doctor’s diagnosis: the baby was whole and sound.
“Would you like to hold him, Mr. Bravo?”
Cash laid Abby’s hand gently down and turned.
The nurse held out a tiny, squalling red thing, which she’d already wrapped up to keep it warm.
“Just for a moment,” she said.
Even though a mask covered her mouth, he could see her smile in the crinkles around her eyes.
Cash backed up a step, and came up short when he hit the operating table on which Abby lay. He stared at the bundle in the nurse’s arms.
And all at once he was fifteen again, and the tiny red thing was Abby. And Ty was there, grinning.
“Come on, hold this pint-size little thing. Don’t you be shy, Cash. She won’t break. She’s gonna be a tough one—I can feel it in my bones. Tough, and beautiful, too. What more could a daddy ask for in his child?”
“Come on, Mr. Bravo,” the nurse said. Cash could hear the warmth and humor in her voice. “Hold your baby. Here you go.”
Cash opened his arms, hardly knowing now from then. And the nurse put the squalling bundle in them.
He looked into the wrinkled face. The crying stopped. And the blue eyes met his, so wise, so watchful.
“Tyler,” Cash said, as the name came into his head. “For your grandpa on your mama’s side. And Ross—for your great-grandpa on my side. Welcome to the world, Tyler Ross.” Cash turned to Abby, grinning. “What do you think? Tyler Ross.”
His grin quickly faded as he remembered that Abby couldn’t hear him. She lay on that metal table, as still and quiet as the grave.
“A Christmas baby,” the nurse murmured from behind him.
Cash looked up at the big institutional clock on the far wall. It was four in the morning. On Christmas Day.
He had a flash of the tree in the great room that Tess had decorated with such care. And all the presents under it. By the time he’d put the gifts he and Abby had brought under there, too, the presents had overflowed across the floor. Abby had bought so damn many, and insisted on wrapping every one herself.
“Christmas babies bring good luck,” the nurse said.
Cash looked down at Abby once more. “I just hope to holy hell that you’re right.”
As soon as he left the operating room, Cash called the ranch. Zach answered. Cash gave his cousin the news and learned that Edna and Nate were on their way.
Eventually, when they had Abby settled into a room, they let him be with her. The room wasn’t the same one that Edna had stayed in; it had a different number on the door. But it looked identical, with one tiny window, a white curtain that could be pulled around the bed and a single chair. The half bath, as in Edna’s room, could be entered through a door about eight feet from the end of the bed.
Cash pulled up the chair so he could sit by the bed. He took his wife’s slim hand and just looked at it. He thought about all the times he’d looked at it before, from when she was a baby and it had wrapped around his index finger, holding tight, through her childhood when it was always dirty and always grabbing for something she wasn’t supposed to have.
More recently, he remembered that hand reaching up, pulling him down for a kiss. And holding that menu, in that Italian place in Denver, just before that kid her own age had walked in, confronting him with his own scary jealousy—and reminding him once more of all he had stolen from her: her youth, and her freedom….
God help him, let it not be her life, as well.
He closed his eyes, rubbed them. The room seemed lighter, somehow. He turned toward the window. Out there, dawn was breaking. But inside him, it seemed there was nothing but endless night.
He laid his head down on the bed, beside her. Still holding her hand, he closed his eyes.
“Cash?”
He lifted his head. Edna was smiling down at him. He raked a hand through his hair, rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. Must have dropped off….”
She put her hand on his shoulder. “Nate and I are here now. We’ll sit with her. You go get some food into your stomach.”
“No. I don’t want to leave her.”
“Go on. You have to eat. And you can come right back.”
“Did they tell you about the baby?”
“We’ve already seen him.” In spite of the worry lines between her brows, there was real joy in her voice. “My grandson is a fine-looking boy.”
“I named him. Tyler Ross Bravo.”
Edna’s eyes filled. She had to bite her lower lip to tame the tears. “Perfect,” she said.
Cash turned to Abby, where she lay so pale against the pillows. “Do you think she’ll like that name?”
“She will love it.”
“She hasn’t woken up yet. She’s supposed to wake up. Soon. If she moves or makes a sound—anything—we have to call the nurse right away.”
“Go get some food and coffee,” Nate said from where he stood by the door. “We’ll watch while you’re gone.”
Cash knew they were right. He should eat, walk around a little, maybe look in on Tyler Ross. “All right.” He stood, then he glanced at his watch: after nine. “How was the drive up here?”
“Don’t ask,” Nate replied grimly. “There are two new feet of snow on the ground. We made it. That’s what matters.”
Edna sank into the chair Cash had vacated, and took up the hand that he had set down.
“If she moves—” he began.
“Go,” Nate said. “We’re here. We’ll look out for her.”
Cash went to the cafeteria, where he drank two cups of coffee and forced down some eggs and toast. Then he visited a rest room, where he splashed cold water on his face, rinsed his mouth and combed his hair. After that, he made a stop at the nursery, where they let him hold Tyler Ross. He was back in Abby’s room within half an hour of the time that he’d left.
“Any change?” he asked hopefully.
Edna just shook her head.
Nate had talked the nurses into getting them two more chairs. They settled in for the vigil.
It was a vigil that lasted eight more hours, hours that seemed like years to Cash.
Then, at five-thirty in the afternoon, Cash felt Abby’s hand move in his. He looked at her face.
And her eyes slowly opened. “Cash?”
He squeezed her hand. “I’m here, Abby. I’m right here.”
Chapter Thirteen
“They do say mother’s milk is best,” Edna remarked in a tone of loving disapproval.
They were sitting in the living room at Edna’s house. Abby looked up from her son, who was sucking happily at his bottle. “Well, now, Mom. Tyler seems to like this bottle just fine.”
“He’ll be colicky. You were colicky, even though I kept you on the breast for a full year, just the way all the books said.”
“Tyler’s six weeks old now. N
ot a sign of colic.”
“Sometimes it comes on late. And allergies. Bottle-fed babies always develop more allergies.”
Tyler drained the bottle and let go of the nipple with a rude little pop. Then he burped loudly and his mouth stretched wide in what his mama chose to think of as a great big smile. Abby bent down and kissed him, then looked up at her own mother again. “You know, Mom, there’s really no point in talking about this. Your grandson’s a bottle-fed baby. That is not going to change.”
“Well, for the next one…”
Abby let out a groan. “Mom. Let’s not start planning the next one yet, okay? I’m just getting used to this one.” She smoothed a diaper on her shoulder, lifted Tyler Ross and gently set him there. After a moment or two of gentle pats, he burped again. “There,” Abby said. “That’s better, isn’t it?”
Edna watched adoringly. “You astonish me.”
“Why?”
“You’re so relaxed. You’re going to be a good mother.”
“I’m already a good mother. And you don’t have to act so surprised about it.”
“Well, but you know how you always were. More interested in horses and math books than in dolls. And you always swore that being a homebody wasn’t for you.”
“I’m still not a homebody.”
“You know what I mean. You swore you’d never get married and have children. But now here you are, a wife and mother. And you’re just a natural with that baby. I don’t know how you do it. I remember with you I could hardly enjoy myself. I was always nervous, trying to do everything right.”
“Well, you know me. No chance of doing everything right anyway, so I might as well relax.”
Edna actually chuckled. And then she frowned once more. “But I do worry, about our Tyler not getting all the benefits of breast feeding.”
“Edna, stop it.” Tess had appeared from the kitchen, carrying a coffee tray. “Tyler’s doing just great. Look at him.” She stared, dreamy eyed, at the baby in Abby’s arms.
Abby let out another groan. “Tess, you’ve got that silly look on your face again.”
“I can’t stop myself. He’s so adorable.” Tess carried her coffee tray into the room and set it on the low table in front of the sofa. “Let me hold him.”
Abby held out her son. Tess gathered him close. “Oh, he feels so good.” She cooed and rocked the baby a little, then she grinned at Abby. “I always wanted about a hundred of these.”
“Better get to work.”
“Abigail,” Edna chided.
Tess and Abby shared a laugh, then Tess sat on the end of the sofa and cuddled with Tyler, as Edna poured the coffee and passed it around.
“When is your six-week checkup?” Edna asked.
“Tomorrow, 9 a.m. sharp,” Abby said with a little flutter of anticipation. She hoped to get a clean bill of health at last, because she had plans. For herself and Cash. Very intimate plans.
She and Cash needed a little intimacy. Lately, it seemed to Abby that he’d become somewhat distant with her. He’d been absolutely incredible through her illness. But in the past few weeks, since she’d been feeling so much better, he was forever on his way somewhere. He would make a point to help with Tyler, getting up for night feedings and even changing a diaper or two. But he never seemed to have much time to spend with Abby alone—except when both of them were sleeping.
Abby understood, of course. He had his business deals to catch up on, and though Tyler was easygoing for a newborn, he’d still managed to change their lives in a thousand ways.
Abby felt that what she and Cash needed was a good shot of romance. The married kind, in their bed. And in their whirlpool bath. And in a number of other locations she could think of without a great deal of effort.
All the books said that they could have romance right now—just not actual intercourse. But with Cash so preoccupied, Abby hadn’t found the way to approach him about those other kinds of lovemaking. She felt more confident that she could bridge the distance between them if she knew they could just do whatever came naturally.
So she wanted that okay from Dr. Pruitt. She wanted it a lot.
“You’ve recovered so quickly,” her mother said. “It’s a miracle, really.”
“Dr. Pruitt says that in cases like mine, as soon as the baby’s delivered, the mother usually improves right away—as long as she received help in time, I mean.”
“Oh, you were so fortunate.”
“I know. I had Cash. And Tess.” Abby looked at the woman across the coffee table, who was cooing and gurgling just like the baby. Tess stopped cooing long enough to give Abby an affectionate smile.
“Well,” Edna said, “even if you feel better now, it’s nothing to fool with.”
“I’m not fooling with it, Mom. I promise. I’m taking good care of myself.” She sat up straight and drew her shoulders back proudly. “This morning, my blood pressure was 120 over 60.”
“That’s good,” Edna admitted.
“It’s better than good. It’s terrific. Now, if I can just get my stomach back in shape.”
Tess glanced up again from gumming Tyler’s fingers. “One thing at a time,” she said.
“I started doing stomach crunches a week ago.”
“Are you crazy?” Edna asked.
“No, I am not crazy.” She thought about Cash. She did want to look good for him. “Just determined.”
“To hurt yourself.”
“I’m not hurting myself. I’m careful. Honest. I take it slow and steady.” She lowered her voice and leaned toward her mother. “And I’ll be the happiest woman alive when that creepy numbness around my incision goes away.”
Edna sighed. “You’re just like your father. Every time he broke a bone—and he broke a lot of bones, if you recall—he would start exercising the minute the cast was off. I still remember him sitting in the kitchen of the foreman’s cottage, lifting a weight on a leg that he’d broken, tears running down his face. I told him, ‘Ty, the way you work that thing, you’ll break it all over again.’ ‘No, Edna,’ he says to me. ‘What I’ll do is make it strong.’”
“He was something,” Abby said reverently.
“He was crazy,” Edna declared.
Tess said, “I think we need a clean diaper here.” They all looked at Tyler, who gurgled and cooed, content with the world and his place in it.
The next morning, Abby left Dr. Pruitt’s office with a big smile on her face. The doctor had told her just what she wanted to hear. She was ready once more to be a wife in every way.
Abby longed to share the good news with Cash. But she would have to wait, for a little while, anyway. Cash had flown to Vegas early the day before—for a big card game, Abby suspected, though he hadn’t been specific about details when he said goodbye. He was due back tomorrow afternoon. And then she’d give him the good news. She’d do it the best way: up close and personal.
At home, Abby counseled with Mrs. Helm, the cook-housekeeper, for forty-five minutes. She was taking no chances on her own cooking tomorrow night. Once they’d settled on a special menu, Mrs. Helm went out to shop for groceries. Abby took Tyler to her mother’s and then drove all the way to Billings to do a little shopping of her own. She bought a sexy cocktail dress and some lingerie that was black and slinky and not meant for anyone but a husband to see. Abby thought she looked pretty good in both the dress and the lingerie—considering she’d had a baby and nearly died six weeks before.
It was after dark by the time she got home, and it had also started snowing.
“What can you be thinking of, out driving in that?” Edna complained.
Abby soothed her mother, collected her baby and went home to the big house that always seemed so empty when Cash wasn’t there. But she didn’t feel quite as lost and forlorn as she’d felt on the other nights recently when Cash had been gone. She had tomorrow to look forward to, after all.
She awoke in the morning all jittery and eager. When Mrs. Helm came in, Abby asked her if she could stay
a little later than usual to serve the dinner.
“It shouldn’t be much after eight, I promise,” Abby said. “And as soon as it’s on the table, you could go ahead and leave. And if you want a few hours off during the day today in exchange, that would be fine. Or I’ll pay you overtime. Whichever. It doesn’t matter to me.”
“Now, now, slow down,” the kindly Mrs. Helm replied. “I’ll be glad to stay. It’s no problem. And I think I understand what you want. A beautiful table with tempting food—and a little privacy as soon as dinner is served.”
Abby beamed. “Yes. That’s it exactly. Mrs. Helm, you are an angel.”
“I’ll just take myself out the back way, as soon as you two are enjoying your meal.”
“Oh, thank you. I can’t tell you. I owe you. Big time.”
Abby decided that as much as she adored her son, she didn’t want him interrupting anything on this special night. So she called her mother next.
Edna was not so kindly as Mrs. Helm. “Abigail, what is going on? Yesterday, you drove to Billings in a snowstorm.”
“It had just started to snow when I got home, Mother.”
“And today, you want to drop your baby off with me again, this time for a whole night.”
“Is that a ‘no,’ then? Are you telling me you won’t take Tyler for the night?”
“Of course I’m not telling you that.”
“Then what are you telling me?”
“I’m not telling. I’m asking. What is going on?”
Abby sighed. “Oh, all right I want an evening alone with Cash.”
After a silence, Edna murmured, “Well. Why didn’t you say so?”
“Does that mean that you’ll look after Tyler?”
“I’d be pleased to, honey.”
Abby took Tyler to her mother’s at three in the afternoon. Then she went home. At four, she sank into a scented bath from which she didn’t emerge until five. Once she’d slathered lotion from head to toe and dabbed perfume at every pulse point, she dedicated an hour to fiddling with her hair and putting on her makeup. By the time she was all dressed in her sexy lingerie and new cocktail dress, it was after six—and Cash wasn’t home yet.
The Nine-Month Marriage Page 16
