‘Where are you, Sam? How long do you think you’ll be?’
‘I’m about ten minutes away.’
‘OK. Oh—oh!’
The breathing started again and Sam took a deep breath in sympathy. He could feel his own gut squeezing tight. He hadn’t prayed in a while, but he suddenly sent a silent plea for Meg and a quick request for strength for himself. No wonder Meg was frightened. He was absolutely terrified.
Again, he wondered if he should be dialing for an ambulance, but decided for the time being to take his cue from Meg. From what he’d read, first babies usually took their time coming. And besides, she wanted him! His heart swelled with an uplift of emotion.
Meg’s voice came through again. ‘Oh, boy, that was a stronger one.’
‘You still OK?’
‘Yes, but I can’t wait to see you.’
Despite his anxiety, he smiled.
‘Oh, no. There’s another one already. Oh, Sa-a-am!’
The anguish in her cry sent panic surging like a tidal wave through Sam. He was hot and cold at once. ‘Stay calm, darling. Just breathe. Come on, now—calming breaths. You can do it.’
Suddenly, he didn’t care about safety. He slammed his foot down on the accelerator and charged towards Meg’s place with his heart in his mouth. In the background, all he could hear were her desperate whimpers and sobs coming over the phone. She sounded so distressed, he wanted to kill someone.
It occurred to him in a blinding flash that, if anything happened to Meg now, he might do something really reckless. He loved her!
Tom had told Dolly she’d given his life shape and splendour. Now he understood what the old guy had meant. Without Meg, Sam knew his life would be empty and worthless.
After what seemed like an endless, frustrating maze of right and left turns, his tyres screeched as he roared to a halt outside her house. Luckily, she’d left the front door unlocked and Sam sprinted inside, shouting as he ran, ‘Meg! Where are you?’
There was no answer.
CHAPTER TEN
‘MEG!’ Sam shouted, dashing and skidding through the house, checking rooms as he ran. Every nightmare, every fear he’d ever dealt with paled to nothing beside the overwhelming terror that seized him now.
Her bedroom was at the back of the house, but at last he found her. Curled on her side, she was in the middle of the bed, her golden hair in disarray and her face bleached white with fear. She was clutching at a bed sheet.
‘Meg,’ he whispered. ‘What’s happening?’
She couldn’t answer. Suddenly her face screwed up in pain and her body stiffened.
‘Hey, sweetheart,’ he whispered. ‘It’s OK. I’ll get you to the hospital. Try to relax. Breathe for me. You can do it.’
She shook her head and tears rolled down her cheeks.
Sam felt a painful sob rising in his throat. Somehow he held it back.
On one reckless night last May, he’d made passionate love to this beautiful woman and now she was in agony. All because of him.
At last the contraction seemed to be over.
‘I think I’m in transition,’ Meg whispered. ‘I feel awful. Oh, Sam. I’m so scared.’
Transition! From what he’d read, that meant the baby would be arriving soon.
‘Let me carry you to the car.’
‘No!’ she wailed. ‘Don’t move me. Please! I can’t move.’
‘I’m going to call an ambulance,’ he told her.
This time she didn’t object.
Snatching the phone out of his pocket, he began to punch in numbers, but he was hit by sudden confusion. ‘What’s the number for emergencies in Australia?’
‘Triple zero,’ Meg whispered urgently through gritted teeth.
Once again he punched the numbers.
‘Oh, no! Oh, no! Sam, I think the baby’s com-i-i-ing!’
Coming? It couldn’t be! His heart slammed against his ribs. Babies weren’t supposed to come this fast! ‘Hold on, Meg!’ he cried, shocked to the core by the signs of strain in her face.
‘I ca-a-n’t,’ she cried back. ‘I’ve got to push!’
‘Hello,’ said a voice in Sam’s ear. ‘Which department did you want, ambulance, fire or police?’
‘Ambulance!’ he shouted.
’Sa-a-am! Help me-e!’
Meg looked terrified.
‘Ambulance service. How can I help you?’
Panic stricken, Sam yelled, ‘We’re at thirty-seven Casurina Drive. There’s a baby coming! Get here fast!’
He threw down the phone and crouched close to Meg. She had rolled onto her back and her eyes were dilated with fear. He was frightened too. He had no idea how long it would take for the ambulance to arrive.
‘It’s coming, Sam.’ She sobbed. ‘We don’t have time to go anywhere. I think I’m going to have it any minute now. I’m so scared! Don’t leave me.’
‘I’m not going anywhere, Nutmeg. I’m staying right here to help you. Are you comfortable like that?’
‘I guess I need to—o-oh!’
Once more her face crumpled. He could see the strain in her neck as she began to bear down again.
‘Don’t fight it,’ Sam murmured, hoping his advice was correct. ‘Go with the pain. I guess you may as well push. You can do it.’
In a little while, she relaxed back against the pillows, looking flushed, but calmer.
‘Let me get you more comfortable.’ There was a glass of water on her night table. ‘Would you like a sip of water?’
She nodded and he lifted her head to take a little drink.
When she began to grunt with another contraction, he sat beside her, supporting her back, helping her to lean into the urge to push, just as they’d practised a few hours before.
‘You’re fantastic, Meg!’
‘How am I doing down the business end?’ She nodded to her lower regions.
He moved down the bed, more than a little scared about what he would find. ‘It’s just great! It looks just like in the movie at the class.’ He managed a crooked grin. ‘Only better.’
Her mouth quirked into the tiniest of smiles and Sam stepped forward and kissed her cheek. Somewhere, amid the panic that rioted inside him, he managed to think that she’d never looked more beautiful.
‘I didn’t mean to have the baby at home,’ she said with another sob. ‘Oh!’ She let forth a swear word Sam hadn’t realised she used and, once again, she began to bear down. A loud, grunting groan burst from her lips.
‘I can see the baby’s head, Meg!’ Sam called suddenly and he felt tears of panic, excitement and joy clogging his throat and welling in his eyes. ‘He’s got black hair.’
Meg smiled through her pain. After a moment’s respite, she panted. ‘Black—that’s good!’
Sam shot a frantic glance through the bedroom window to the street outside. His heart raced as if he’d swum clear across the Pacific.
Slow down, baby!
Where’s that ambulance? he wanted to scream but, for Meg’s sake, he kept quiet, hiding his fright. What on earth would he do if the baby kept coming and he was here on his own? Facing a tiger shark on the bottom of the ocean would be a piece of cake compared to this.
But he didn’t have any choice. The contractions were forcing Meg to push again and the baby’s head was moving slowly forward. Sam gulped. ‘You go, girl!’ he whispered. ‘He’s looking great.’
‘Oh—oh!’ Meg cried. She dragged in another deep breath and began to push once more.
‘His head is on the way out!’ Sam told her. ‘I can see his forehead. Here come his eyes…his nose!’ His heart clattered in his chest as he stared at the tiny head. It was wrinkled and wet and dark. ‘I’d say he’s kinda cute-looking.’
Red-faced, Meg managed another quick smile before she began another push. She was looking tired and he raced to prop her back with more pillows. Then he darted to check on the baby’s progress. The shoulders were emerging. The baby seemed to be turning slightly. He rubbed his hands ner
vously together, took a deep breath and grasped his son’s tiny shoulders.
To his amazement, the little guy continued to progress forward without any assistance. Smart kid! All Sam needed to do was be there. Soon the rest of the shiny body was slipping away from Meg and into his hands.
Awestruck, he held his son, as his little arms and legs flung wide. Through a throat choked with emotion, Sam managed to cry, ‘He’s here, Meg! You have your little boy.’
At the sound of her cry of triumph, a new fear clutched at Sam. What in heaven’s name was he supposed to do now? The tiny body in his hands was slippery and wet. The kid looked incredibly like a startled frog. Meg had done her part. Was this where he was supposed to spank the poor little guy? In the movie, they did medical-type things like suctioning out the baby’s nose and throat.
Sam felt a primal male urge to get the hell out of there.
Suddenly, the little arms flew wide open again and a lusty, ‘Waa’ erupted from the baby’s mouth. His tiny face grew red as his cries gained volume. ‘Thank God!’ Sam breathed.
A relief such as he’d never known before, flooded through him. Relief! Elation! Overwhelming love. An urge to shout from rooftops! A dozen emotions shook him.
‘My baby!’ cried Meg. ‘Let me see him.’
With intense concentration, he gently lifted the little fellow onto her stomach. ‘Here you are, you clever girl.’
‘Oh, Sam, he’s beautiful.’
‘He’s perfect,’ Sam agreed, blinking his eyes, but not really caring about tears any more. This little creature with a scrunched-up face was the most perfect kid in the whole world.
He sat beside Meg and helped to support her so she could see the little miracle she’d produced.
‘He’s a funny colour,’ she whispered. ‘But I think brand new babies look like that.’
‘He’s fine, honey. He’s getting pinker by the minute.’
‘Look at his little hands. His tiny fingers. Oh, his eyes are open.’ Little black eyes blinked at them. ‘Sam.’ She sobbed. ‘He’s gorgeous.’ Through her tears, Meg looked up at him. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
Now it was over, he was shaking. ‘Hey, you did it all by yourself. You were fantastic.’ He kissed her forehead and tenderly brushed damp curls from her face. ‘You were so brave.’ Clearing his throat, he added, ‘Am I—are we supposed to do anything about the cord?’
‘The ambulance should be here soon. They’ll look after it,’ Meg responded. Now that she had her baby, she didn’t seem to be worried about anything else.
Their son began to cry again and Meg stroked his back gently. ‘He feels so soft,’ she whispered.
‘Maybe we should keep him warm.’
‘There’s a baby blanket in my bag.’ She pointed to a suitcase standing near the doorway.
‘I’ll get it and then I’ll check again where the ambulance has got to.’ Sam flipped open the locks on the case and sorted through the neatly folded items. He found a soft white blanket dotted with tiny blue sea horses. Smiling, he covered the baby and Meg.
There was a knock at the door.
‘That’ll be the ambulance.’ He dropped another kiss on her warm cheek and stood up, calling loudly, ‘We’re in here!’
Meg smiled at him and she looked as if she would be smiling from now until Christmas.
Meg lay in her hospital bed and stared at the tiny form in the crib beside her. A tiny pink and perfect face topped by thick black hair peeped out of a neatly bundled bunny rug.
It’s all over! her mind kept repeating. I have a baby and he’s fine! He’s beautiful! She had never known such exhilaration. Such a sense of achievement.
She had never known such love. She was bursting with goodwill towards the entire universe. Love for the baby. Love for Sam. Especially for Sam.
Where was he?
Once the ambulance had arrived, there had been so much action. And when they’d got to the hospital, people had kept buzzing continuously around her, doing things to her and the baby. There had been a constant flow of people checking one medical detail or another and Sam had disappeared into the background. Even when she’d been settled into this private room, which he’d insisted she must have, the nurses had sent him away so she could rest.
But she’d rested all night and now she wanted him. She needed him.
Sam had delivered her baby! The very thought filled her with awe. He’d been magnificent. Without him, she would have been a screaming, sobbing mess!
And afterwards! The three of them—Sam, herself and their little boy—it had been a moment of such closeness. An experience of bonding beyond her wildest dreams.
There was a telephone on her bedside table and, impulsively, she decided to dial his mobile.
‘Sam Kirby.’
‘Hi there, Daddy.’
‘Meg! Are you OK?’
‘Wonderful,’ she whispered back. ‘Where are you?’
‘In the hospital foyer, wondering whether I should visit you so early.’
Meg found she was grinning. ‘Get right up here at once,’ she ordered.
‘I’m on my way.’
She slipped the telephone receiver gently into its cradle and sank back onto the pillows, satisfied.
Within minutes, Sam’s tall dark frame appeared in the doorway. He carried a huge bunch of roses.
‘How did you know I love pink roses?’ Meg asked, delighted. Everything seemed delightful on this wonderful day.
‘Oh, I can be quite intuitive at times.’ He smiled down at her. ‘You look really well, Meg.’ He reached down to lightly brush her cheek. ‘I guess radiant would be the right word.’
‘I’m on top of the world.’ She sighed happily.
He settled on the side of the bed nearest the baby and peered into the crib. ‘Doesn’t he look different now he’s all scrubbed up and wearing clothes?’
‘I have to keep telling myself he’s real. Isn’t he the best looking baby you’ve ever seen?’
‘My experience doesn’t count for much. The only brand-new creatures I’ve met at close quarters have been puppies and guppies.’ Sam studied his son and then grinned at Meg. ‘But, yeah, he’s a great looking guy.’
‘He looks just like you.’
Sam shook his head and laughed.
After a moment of silence, while they both gazed at the sleeping baby, Meg reached out with one finger and touched the back of Sam’s hand where it rested on the counterpane. ‘I’m so grateful for the way you helped me.’
Rolling his hand over, he captured hers and squeezed. ‘All part of the service, ma’am.’
His eyes held a soft glow that snaffled Meg’s breath. She dropped her gaze and gently removed her hand from his grasp.
‘What are you planning to call him?’ Sam asked.
Meg took a deep breath. ‘Tom.’
‘Tom?’ he repeated, sounding shaken. ‘After my grandfather?’
‘He would never have been born if it wasn’t for your grandfather’s letter in the bottle,’ she said softly. ‘I was thinking I’d like to call him Thomas Samuel.’
An emotion Meg couldn’t identify tightened Sam’s face. He got to his feet quickly and, staring down, shoved his hands in his pockets.
‘You have any objection?’ she asked cautiously.
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘No, they’re fine names. They go well with—with your name—Bennet. Thomas Samuel Bennet. It sounds—solid.’
Meg’s eyes misted. She didn’t know where her ridiculous brain had been trailing but, somewhere in the past hours, between the baby’s birth and this moment, she’d stopped thinking about a future without Sam.
She pressed four fingers to her lips. Soon, he would be heading back to Seattle.
‘Can I hold him for a moment?’ Sam asked.
‘Sure,’ she said and bit her lip as he bent over the cot and gently picked up his sleeping son. Tom looked so tiny in his father’s big strong arms. You mustn’t get weepy, she lectured herself. But the tears ca
me anyway. She couldn’t help it.
And Sam looked so cute standing there, holding the tiny bundle in his big hands and looking down into the baby’s sleeping face. He stared intently, as if he were imprinting every detail to store up memories.
‘Well, Tom,’ he said softly, ‘I dare say you won’t always be as angelic as you look right at this moment, but I want you to be a good kid for your mom. Do you hear me, bud?’ His glance stole swiftly in Meg’s direction and, when he saw her tears, he frowned. ‘Are you OK?’
Snatching up a tissue, she blotted her face and blew her nose. ‘Just feeling a bit emotional.’
‘You must still be tired. I should head off soon.’
‘Will you come and visit us later?’
Sam’s face darkened and, bending over the crib, he placed the baby down once more. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Oh?’ Meg tried not to sound disappointed, but failed miserably.
He straightened and folding his arms over his chest, eyed her steadily. ‘We have a deal, remember. You made me promise not to hang around once the little guy arrived safely.’
‘But I—I didn’t think you’d want to get away this quickly.’
His jaw jutted forward as he stood considering her words. He spoke to the opposite wall. ‘Hanging around now isn’t going to help anybody.’ Slowly he swung his gaze to look her in the eye.
Meg’s mind twisted and turned, trying to make sense of her sudden misery. Sam was right. She’d made him promise not to make a nuisance of himself once the baby was born. Yesterday, this arrangement had seemed the perfect solution. A wonderful idea. Of course, she hadn’t expected Tom to arrive so soon.
What a difference a day could make.
She was tempted to blurt out that she’d changed her mind—that she wanted him to stay. Surely everything was different now? They’d been through so much together. But somewhere in the back of her head a little niggle of common sense warned against making a rash decision.
He sighed. ‘If I’m going to head off, I’d prefer to do it sooner rather than later.’
The Pregnancy Discovery Page 14
