Angel Baby

by Leslie Kelly

  ANGEL BABY

  by

  Leslie Kelly

  Copyright 2011 Leslie Kelly

  Table of Contents

  Dear Reader

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader:

  Several years ago, when I first set out to write a romance novel, I experimented with my style and voice. My first four books were quite different from each other. When Harlequin offered to buy the first one—Night Whispers—for Temptation, my new editor agreed to look at the other three, but didn’t think they would work for the line. Night Whispers was sexy and flirtatious. The second book I wrote, Angel Baby, was more traditional, focused on the growing love between two people and the creation of a family. The third, Coming Home, was a classic reunion/secret baby story. Also darker, but the heat level went up. Bringing Down Sam went back to my sexy, sassy Temptation roots, but a super-model heroine wasn’t saleable at the time.

  I was four up and three down with my editor. Talk about second-book-syndrome! Fortunately, my editor was (is) terrific, and steered me toward the kind of story she could buy. That became Suite Seduction, my second conventionally published book…but the 5th one I’d written.

  Those other three books have been “in the drawer” for more than ten years. Not that I didn’t think they were good enough to be published, they just didn’t fit the Leslie Kelly brand I was building. But with the recent explosion in backlist book publication on various e-devices, I decided the time had come to share those stories with my readers.

  I hope you enjoy this book. For those of you looking for steamy eroticism, sorry, you won’t find it here. What you will find is a sweetly sexy, tender romance with a fair amount of heat and boatloads of heart.

  Enjoy!

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Ouch, that one hurt,” said Claudia Warren as she gently rubbed her stomach.

  The intensity of the last contraction had taken her by surprise. She’d become so used to the generally painless tightening that she seldom even noticed it anymore. Her doctor had said that her Braxton Hicks contractions, or “false labor,” had lasted longer than any patient he’d ever seen. Hers had been occurring since she was five or six months pregnant—which had terrified her at the time, since she’d thought she was having a miscarriage. Today they were especially relentless.

  “Soon I won’t be able to ignore them. In a couple of weeks, it’ll be the real thing, so this will have to be my last visit for a while.”

  Her own voice was startling, intrusive in the otherwise silent air. There was no reply, of course. She was completely alone.

  Claudia arched her back and twisted her head from side to side to ease the kinks in her neck. She shifted a little, trying to find a comfortable sitting position on the hard ground. Leaning forward, she allowed the weight of her cumbersome belly to drop forward onto the tops of her thighs, giving her aching back some relief. For about the twentieth time she wished she’d thought to bring a lawn chair when she left her Philadelphia apartment this morning. Sitting on the ground was proving to be quite arduous, especially because of the constant ache she’d had in her lower back all day.

  “I hope I’ll be able to get up,” she muttered.

  A stiff breeze blew across her cheek, tugging at her hair and pulling a few strands free from the loose ponytail. She hugged her long wool coat a little tighter and glanced at the darkening sky. The afternoon had been pleasantly cool, but the coming evening would likely be downright chilly. She’d nearly forgotten how quickly darkness descended here in the country, especially in October. In the city, with the neon lights advertising cheap motels and cheaper thrills, it never seemed to get truly dark. At least not in the run down part of town where she’d been living for the past several months. That was one of the many things she hated about having to stay there.

  The sun hung low on the horizon, almost hidden behind the distant mountain, and Claudia realized it must be close to five. She couldn’t believe how quickly the afternoon had slipped away. Perhaps just being surrounded by near silence on a crisp autumn day with no beeping horns or shouting had made the time fly by. The few voices she’d heard in subdued whispers had disappeared ages ago, and the only sound she could hear now was the whistling of the breeze and the slight creak of the wrought iron gate.

  She didn’t want to leave.

  “I wish I’d come earlier,” she whispered. “It’s just so hard to get moving these days. I’m up running to the bathroom about fifteen times a night, and can never get comfortable in bed. I’m so tired in the morning. And since it's a three hour drive....”

  Another irritating contraction gripped her. This one made her gasp out loud. Not even thinking about it, she began taking deep breaths, just like she’d practiced in her pre-natal classes. The breathing helped a little, and soon the pain was gone. But it had been strong enough to get her thinking about the ordeal she’d be facing in a few short weeks. Alone.

  “I’m not looking forward to labor, you know. To tell you the truth, I’m scared to death,” she admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. “I’ve read all the books, and practiced all the breathing...but I’m still nervous. At this point, I’d just like to get it over with. But I’ve got another three weeks to go until my due date, and since first babies are usually late, it’ll probably be more than a month.”

  A large withered leaf blew across the ground in front of her, rolling like a forlorn bit of tumbleweed through some deserted ghost town. The ground was not yet carpeted with leaves, but soon would be as the majestic trees prepared themselves for the fast approaching winter.

  She dreaded it.

  Claudia thrived on sunlight and warmth. The unrelenting gray skies and dampness of winter always made her miserable. The only bright spot now, the one light which had sustained her for so many months, was the pending arrival of the baby.

  “I found a great crib at a consignment...” Claudia bit off her words as another contraction tore through her, this time with strength enough to bring tears to her eyes. She placed her hand against her belly, feeling it clench into a hard knot. The pain seemed to go on interminably.

  As it finally started to lessen, after at least a solid minute, Claudia’s nervousness grew. She’d ignored the pain at first, like she had for months, having been reassured by her doctor that the baby was fine. But she’d finally begun to realize that today wasn’t like yesterday, or the day before. This wasn’t the irritating discomfort that had terrified her at five months along, but by eight had barely raised a concern. Thinking about it, she realized she’d been having these pains all day, with no long break in between them.

  “What did the doctor say?” she asked aloud, hearing a tremble in her own voice. “Longer, stronger, and closer together. That’s how I’ll know they’re real and not Braxton Hicks.”

  Oh, God.

  The contractions had been washing over her with regularity since shortly after she’d arrived here, several hours ago. They’d gotten stronger, and were coming every couple of minutes. And they hurt. Badly.

  She was in labor. Real labor. Right now.

  Chase Paxton arrived at his destination at around sundown. Downshifting, he let the truck glide to a stop in the nearly abandoned parking lot, cursing lightly when he saw the beat up yellow hatchba
ck parked nearby. He hoped he wouldn’t run into its owner. He was in a foul mood and didn’t care for any “Cool weather we’re having,” chit-chat. That was one reason he had waited until so late in the day to come. Most of the righteous folks made their obligatory visits after church on Sunday, then went straight home to their baked chicken dinners, their backgammon games and their warm cozy families. He preferred the cold, bitter solitude of evening. Apparently, the owner of the hatchback did, too.

  Leaning back in his seat, Chase decided to wait a few minutes and see if the other person left. It wasn’t as if he had anywhere else to go tonight, anyway. Dorien was out of town, on her once a month trip to Pittsburgh. And there wasn’t anyone else in the world who would care if he spent a long chilly Sunday evening in the cab of his pickup in a country church parking lot.

  Patience wasn’t his strong suit, however, and within two minutes he was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, wishing he had a cigarette. He’d quit smoking three years before, but that didn’t stop the occasional craving. If he’d been in his old truck he might have considered digging through the glove compartment for one bent up stale old smoke, but the truck was too new for that. It was probably just as well, he figured. Dorien had a nose like a bloodhound and would probably smell smoke on him two days from now...even if he took three showers.

  Finally, Chase grabbed the cellophane wrapped bundle from the passenger seat and stepped out of the driver’s side door. The gravel surface of the parking lot crunched a little under the heels of his boots as he approached the gate. His steps didn’t falter, he knew his way instinctively. He’d been making this trip on Sunday afternoons for many years now. One of these days he’d do it because he wanted to, not because he’d promised he would.

  Rounding the corner past the tall gate, Chase glanced up and stopped in his tracks. Someone staggered toward him in the semi-darkness, a tall figure, hunched over, and clutching at the front of his dark, heavy coat. The person took two faltering steps, stopped, bent deeper, then dropped to his knees.

  “Damn it,” Chase muttered as he realized there was no one else around. The last thing he needed was to play rescuer to some drunk.

  Resigned, Chase shrugged and walked forward to lend assistance. The person was down on all fours on the gravel path. Chase moved carefully to avoid stepping in whatever the guy was heaving up.

  “Mister, you picked a hell of a spot to tie one on,” Chase muttered as he reached the man and squatted down next to him.

  Then the figure turned toward him, and Chase’s breath exited from his chest through his mouth in one huge whoosh. “You’re a woman!”

  She didn’t even seem aware that he’d spoken. Though cast in shadow, her pale face was contorted in agony. Her teeth snagged her lower lip and bit down hard. Chase nearly winced himself thinking how painful that must have been. She didn’t seem to notice, and instead stared right past him, her face twisted with pain. Her dark-ringed eyes revealed something else: a haunted emptiness he couldn’t quite describe, but which he somehow recognized as soul-wrenching sorrow.

  Chase quickly glanced around to see if anyone was coming at them from behind. He saw no one, heard nothing but the wind, and turned his attention back toward her.

  “Are you hurt?” Chase asked, his tone harsh, his whole body on alert. “Is someone after you?”

  The woman didn’t answer for a moment, and he waited while her panting breaths calmed. She looked as if she’d been running a marathon. Gradually her choppy breaths slowed. He watched as her pained face relaxed and a serene expression settled on it. She almost looked as if she was trying to smile. Finally, she answered him. “It appears,” she panted, “that I’m having a baby.”

  A baby? She was having a baby? Forgetting he was squatting, Chase jerked back, lost his balance, and landed on his ass on the ground next to her. She smiled slightly at him as he stared dumbly into her face. Shifting his gaze, he saw that she wore a long, heavy wool coat, unbuttoned, which hung loose, concealing most of her body. When the woman straightened, brushed the dirt off her hands, and reached around to rub her lower back, he got a good look at the rest of her. Her stomach was about the biggest he’d ever seen in his life.

  “Good God in heaven, lady, are you out of your mind?”

  Chase quickly scrambled to his feet and took her hand to help her up. Her fingers felt cold and fragile, and he immediately gentled his touch. Sliding his arm around her shoulder, he pulled her to her feet. Her body quivered as she leaned into him.

  “How close together?” he asked, his voice interrupting the silence in a harsh whisper.

  “Seems like they don’t stop,” she whispered back.

  Chase cursed silently and lifted a hand to her chin. Tipping her face up, he saw with dismay that her mouth was tensing again. A solitary tear slid out of her eye, making a path down her soft cheek. And somewhere, from deep inside, he heard her release one single whimper.

  “Heaven help us,” he muttered as he bent down and swung one arm behind the woman’s legs and swept her up.

  “No,” she ordered. “Put me down. I’m too heavy.”

  Ignoring her, Chase turned and strode toward the gate. Trying not to focus on her face as it curled into those tight lines of pain again, he instead concentrated on getting her to his truck. He felt her body tense in his arms. Her long coat fell to her sides, and Chase could see that huge mound of stomach turn as hard as a boulder beneath the thin cotton of her maternity blouse. She arched her back, probably not even conscious she was doing it, but Chase never loosened his hold on her.

  “Put me down,” the woman insisted again, pushing each word out on an angry breath.

  “Shut up and breathe,” Chase ordered.

  As they reached his truck, Chase felt her tense arms and shoulders relax slightly. He gently lowered her to the ground as he grabbed for his keys.

  “You shouldn’t have carried me,” she said as she leaned back against the hood, drawing in deep breaths and raising her face toward the night sky. “I’ve gained more than thirty pounds with this baby.”

  Chase thrust the key in the lock, yanked the door open and retorted, “You couldn’t have weighed much more than an eight year old to start with, then. Other than that stomach of yours, you’re nothing but skin and bones.”

  She didn’t say anything as Chase gently helped her slide into the passenger seat. He ran around the truck and jumped in on the driver’s side.

  “Lady, this is a brand new truck, so don’t you dare let your water break all over my shiny leather seats,” he said, hoping his harsh tone distracted her. And covered his fear for her.

  The woman smiled slightly, shaking her head without opening her eyes. “This is my first baby,” she replied, “and I’m not exactly sure how this is supposed to work. But I really don’t think I have much control over when my water...Oh, no!”

  Chase glanced over and saw her features tensing with another coming pain, then quickly looked at his watch. This contraction had started only two minutes after the last one ended.

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered as he started the truck, threw it into reverse and revved the engine.

  “No, please,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’ve got to...my back...”

  Chase watched in dismay as the woman turned in her seat, rose to her knees and fell forward, allowing her stomach to drop before her. There was no way he could drive with her kneeling like this. Considering how nervous he was, all it would take would be one fast curve on these winding country roads and she’d be right out the windshield.

  Feeling helpless, Chase flipped on the overhead light. Working purely on instinct, he turned to face her. The first thing he noticed was her thick mane of brown hair, shot through with auburn highlights. He gently brushed a few long strands from her eyes, then placed his hand, palm down, on the small of her back, and pushed gingerly.

  “Yes, please,” she hissed.

  He increased the pressure. She pushed up against his palm. Finally, after what seem
ed an eternity, he heard her deep sigh and saw her body relax. She nodded once, then straightened in her seat with two last deep breaths.

  “It’s back labor,” she explained softly as she buckled her seat belt low on her hips. “My doctor told me the baby was facing the wrong way, but that she’d probably turn in plenty of time.”

  “Back labor. Great. Just great,” Chase muttered. “What is wrong with you, anyway? Why would you come out here alone this late in your pregnancy?”

  “I’m not due until next month.”

  Chase calmed down slightly, knowing that babies didn’t always come when they were expected. But still, if this helpless looking woman were carrying his child, he wouldn’t be more than ten yards from her side.

  Chase took advantage of the bright interior of the truck to more carefully look at her. He found himself staring at the cloud of reddish-brown curls surrounding her pale face. Her cheekbones were high above her hollow cheeks, and her full lips quivered. Slowly, the woman turned her face to look gratefully up at him, and Chase found himself lost in the depths of the greenest eyes he'd ever seen. She smiled shakily, then leaned her head back with a deep sigh.

  "Good idea," he muttered, "try to get some rest. You need to re-gain your strength between each one."

  The enormity of the situation descended on Chase as he acknowledged she was close to having her baby, here, forty miles from the nearest hospital. And Chase was the only one around to help her. The thought scared the hell out of him.

  “There's no excuse for you to be out here all alone. Anything could have happened. What if that heap you’re driving had broken down? Where’s your family? Your husband?”

  “He’s the reason I’m here,” she admitted. “I had to come one more time, to let him know I’m okay, and that I plan to name our daughter Sarah, after his mother.”

  Chase stared at her in disbelief, but she didn’t seem to notice his reaction. She breathed softly, her hand wearily rubbing her neck. Chase glanced past her, out the window to the lonely spot ...where she’d been visiting her husband.