Apache-Colton Series

by Janis Reams Hudson

  He was lucky. He knew that. But he would trade both legs in a minute for the one thing he had apparently lost forever—the ability to make love to his wife.

  Juerta had stolen that from him. Pace was going to find the bastard and kill him.

  Pace.

  There it was again. He halted the horse again. This time there was no mistake. He had definitely heard a woman’s voice.

  Pace.

  “Joanna.” The skin on the back of his neck tightened. Something was wrong. Joanna?

  She did not answer.

  He remembered his earlier thought, that it was time for the baby. Had something gone wrong? Women died in childbirth! Fear jerked his hands on the reins until the horse was headed north, toward the Triple C, but it was Pace who used the spurs.

  It was after midnight when he made it to the house and saw that lights were burning in nearly every room. His fear tripled. He thundered right up to the front door and leaped from the saddle.

  The front door flew open before he reached it. “Thank God you’re here,” Travis said as he gripped Pace’s arm and started down the hall.

  “What’s happened?” Pace demanded, his voice thick with dread.

  “It’s Jo. The baby won’t come.”

  For an instant Pace feared the paralysis had returned to his legs and spread upward to freeze his chest. “Won’t come?” he managed.

  Travis nearly pulled him off balance when he kept dragging Pace down the hall toward Joanna’s room. “She needs you,” was all he said.

  Serena opened the door to Joanna’s room. “Oh, thank God they found you.” Without another word she ushered Pace inside.

  Pace took one look at Joanna lying pale as death on the bed, her face whiter than the white sheets, and nearly fell to his knees. Her flame red hair was dark and damp with sweat, matted to her skull in thick tangles. Her lips were dry and cracked, her eyes sunken.

  A braided strip of rawhide strung between the bedposts at the head of the bed looked barbaric and sent a shiver of dread down his spine. He knew it was for Jo to grip when the pain hit her. Why wasn’t she holding it? Why was it just hanging there?

  “She can’t be dead,” he breathed. “She can’t be.”

  “She’s not dead,” Serena said. “Yet.”

  “What happened? What’s wrong? How long has she been like this?”

  “Hours,” Serena said grimly. She told him how Joanna had fought the pain all day and used up all her strength. She told him that Spence couldn’t be located, and that riders had been sent not only for Spence, but for Pace as well.

  “Talk to her,” Daniella urged desperately. “Let her know you’re here. She’s been calling your name.”

  “I know,” he said, staring down at the woman he’d loved and destroyed. “I heard her.” He knelt beside the bed and took Joanna’s ice cold hand in his. “Jo? Firefly? Talk to me.”

  She rolled her face toward him and her eyes fluttered open. “Pace?” Her voice was so faint he had to lean close to hear her. “What are you…doing here?”

  Pace squeezed her hand, willing his warmth into her. “I came to see you.”

  She smiled at him so softly, with so much love, that his throat thickened. Then her expression grew strained and panic filled her eyes. “The baby’s not born yet,” she said in a rush.

  “I know, Firefly, but soon.”

  “No,” she whispered frantically. “The baby’s not born yet. I don’t have to divorce you until the baby’s born. It’s too soon!”

  “Easy, easy,” he told her.

  “My God,” Daniella whispered. “So that’s it.”

  Suddenly Joanna moaned. The sheet stretched over her abdomen undulated and her face contorted with pain. The sheen of perspiration on her face turned to beads and rolled off onto the pillow.

  “Jo? Hang on to me, Jo. I’m here. Hang on to me.”

  The pain rolled through her, and Pace saw firsthand what Serena had meant. Jo was too weak. She couldn’t possibly last much longer. He didn’t try to hide the fear in his eyes when he looked up at his mother, the woman who had solved all his childhood problems, as if she might hold the answer to what was now tearing him apart.

  “Serena, take over,” Daniella said, shoving Serena none to gently toward the bed while hauling Pace up and across the room with her. “It’s that damn divorce you insisted on,” she hissed at him.

  “We can talk about that later,” Pace said fiercely. “Just tell me how to help her.”

  “The only way you can help her is to convince her you don’t want a divorce. That’s what this has been about all day. I should have realized,” she whispered in frustration. “She’s somehow managed to convince herself that as long as the baby doesn’t come, she won’t have to give you the divorce she promised you.”

  “That can’t have anything to do with—”

  “It does, I tell you. She’s been blocking the pain, fighting it, when she should have been letting it roll through her. I told her myself not to fight the pain.” She hissed a swear word Pace had never heard her say before. “I told her fighting the pain would only prolong things. She took me at my word. She’s not fighting the baby, but the baby’s birth means she has to divorce you.”

  “Jesus,” Pace muttered.

  “We could use His help about now, too, but you’re the one who’s here, and you’re the one she’ll listen to.” With fear and anger in her eyes, Daniella glared at her son. “I don’t care if you have to lie through your teeth. You go over there and convince her that she doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to do. If she doesn’t want to divorce you, that’s all right with you. Tell her you love her. Tell her whatever you have to. Give her whatever she wants. And if you can somehow give her your strength, too, she can sure use it, because hers is gone.”

  Pace’s breath hitched in his lungs. “Is she going to die?”

  Daniella’s eyes blazed. “We’re not going to let her die. Not her, and not your son.”

  With his mother’s words to bolster him, Pace went back to Joanna’s side and took her hand again. At his touch, she opened her eyes. “Pace, I’m sorry. It’s—”

  “Shh,” he said, placing a finger over her chapped lips. “Don’t talk. You have to save your strength. I know you’re tired, Firefly, but it won’t be much longer. No,” he told her when she parted her lips behind his finger. “I’m not here to get a divorce. Don’t even think about a divorce. You know I didn’t really want one, don’t you? You were right when you said I shouldn’t decide what was best for you. I love you. If you still want me, Firefly, I’m all yours.”

  Tears filled her eyes, and Pace’s own vision blurred. He figured God would forgive him, because it wasn’t a lie. He did love Jo, more than he’d ever dreamed a man could love a woman. But he wouldn’t have to worry about screwing up her life, because once she realized he was less than a man, she would take her leave of him quick enough.

  Her hand moved in his. He didn’t realize until her face contorted with pain again that she was trying to squeeze his fingers. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, she was so weak! She was too small and fragile to survive so much pain. Damn his sorry hide for ever touching her!

  “Breathe, Jo,” Daniella commanded. “Fast little pants like I showed you.”

  “Come on, Firefly, you can do it.” Pace parted his lips and panted. Weakly, Joanna tried to mimic him. “That’s it, you can do it.”

  When the pain subsided, her eyes slid shut. “Good girl,” he told her. “Rest now, that’s it.”

  The next pain came almost instantly. While Pace talked her through it, Serena and Daniella pulled the sheet aside, shoved Jo’s nightgown up to her waist, and propped her knees high and apart. Pace gulped.

  The pain seemed to last forever, and no sooner had it ended then another one began. Joanna was gasping for breath. Pace was gasping right alongside her.

  “Prop her up,” Daniella ordered.

  Afraid to ask why, Pace slipped an arm behind Jo’s shoulders and rai
sed her upper body off the bed.

  “Push,” Daniella urged.

  “Come on, Firefly, you heard her. Push.”

  She tried. Pace could see her trying, but she was simply too weak. Fear sharpened his voice. “Come on, you can push harder than that. If I could do it for you I would, but you’re the only one who can bring our son into the world. Push.”

  The blue veins across her temples bulged with her effort, and the hand around his gave a credible squeeze. “Good girl.”

  The door opened behind him when the next pain came right on top of the last one. Pace ignored it. “Push, Jo. Push. Scream if you want. I know it hurts.”

  From the corner of his eye Pace saw Spence. Thank God.

  “Everybody who touches her washes their hands,” Spence ordered as he immediately started scrubbing his own in the bowl on the dresser. “How long has this been going on?”

  Daniella filled him in. Pace didn’t like the way Spence’s expression grew more grim with each word their mother spoke.

  When Spence finished scrubbing his hands he knelt between Jo’s raised knees. “I’m going to touch you now, Jo, so don’t be surprised. Just ignore me, okay? I know you’re busy.”

  As far as Pace was concerned, Spence took his own sweet time examining her.

  “The baby’s on it’s way.”

  “I think we knew that,” Pace said with a snarl.

  “I mean it’s positioned correctly and has started into the birth canal. From all the trouble she’s having I was afraid it was breech.”

  “Then everything’s okay?” Pace demanded.

  “No,” Spence said quietly. “Everything’s not okay. The baby needs help, and Jo doesn’t have the strength. I’m going to have to do a cesarean.”

  “Cut her open?” Nausea struck Pace at the thought.

  “No,” Jo breathed. “I can do this. I can do it right.”

  “Hush, Firefly,” Pace soothed. “You’re not doing anything wrong. That’s not what he meant.”

  “Help…me,” she managed between gasps. “I want to do it…right.”

  “JoJo,” Spence said, “there’s no wrong or right way to have a baby. You’re doing fine. You’re just too weak, hon. Let me help you.”

  “Pa-ace?” A new pain drove her voice up.

  “I’m here, babe.”

  Spence swore and knelt between her knees again. “Okay, Jo, but you say the word and I’ll give you some ether, and when you wake up—”

  “No,” Joanna gasped. “Pace, help me.”

  “Anything, Firefly.” It might have been his imagination, but to Pace, she seemed to be finding some deep core of reserve strength to draw on. He was searching for his own inner strength. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold her off the bed before his arm gave out.

  “Higher. Lift me…higher.”

  “Take off your boots and get in bed behind her,” Daniella told him. At his look of surprise, she smiled. “It worked for me when I had you.”

  “Is that all right with you, Firefly? Do you want me to hold you up from behind?”

  She was panting too hard to speak, but she managed to nod.

  “Spence?” Pace asked, still not sure he should crawl into bed with a woman in labor.

  “Just do it,” Spence muttered. “Breathe, Jo.”

  “I thought…I was supposed…to push.”

  “Not yet,” he answered. “Breathe. Pant. You’re doing fine.”

  Pace started to climb onto the bed, but Spence growled at him. “Did you wash?”

  Hurriedly Pace dashed to the bowl. Daniella poured the used water into a bucket and supplied him with fresh. He scrubbed hard and fast, dried on a clean towel, then rushed back to Jo and waited until the pain subsided. Straddling her hips, he settled in behind her and propped her back against his chest.

  “Better?”

  She barely had time to nod before the next wave of pain crashed over her.

  Holding her the way he was, Pace could feel every muscle in her body contract with pain, and it became his pain. He panted as much to keep air in his lungs as to encourage her to pant. For every drop of sweat on her body, he had two. He placed her hands on his forearms and told her to squeeze, and she did—hard.

  “That’s it, Firefly.”

  “Okay, Jo,” Spence said from between her raised knees. “When the next one comes I want you to push.”

  The next pain came immediately. Pace felt it surge through her like a wall of unstoppable water surging through an arroyo during a flash flood. “Push!”

  She squeezed his arms and pushed until her face turned blood red.

  “Harder,” Spence said tensely. “Harder, Jo!”

  “Come on, Jo,” Pace told her between clenched teeth. “Harder!”

  “I can see the head!” Daniella cried, her voice thick with tears.

  Still riding the crest of pain, Joanna’s moan started low and rose in pitch until it raised the hairs on the back of Pace’s neck. Then she went limp in his arms.

  “Breathe, baby,” Pace told her. “Breathe while you can. And next time, push harder. Scream if you want to.”

  In the few seconds her body allowed for rest before torturing her again, Pace could feel Joanna gathering her remaining strength. “Atta girl,” he told her. “You can do it, Jo. You’re doing great, baby.”

  She panted hard. “No…divorce?”

  Pace closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the top of her head. “No divorce, Firefly. No divorce.”

  The next pain erupted quickly. Joanna bore down with all her might, pushing, straining, squeezing Pace’s arms so hard his bones were in danger of snapping.

  She screamed. A high, long shriek of pain that sliced gashes in Pace’s soul.

  Then she collapsed in his arms.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Pace and Joanna,” Spence said, his voice weak with relief, “allow me to present…your son.”

  Weakly, Joanna struggled to open her eyes. Between her raised knees, Spence held the reddest, most wrinkly, most beautiful thing she’d ever seen in her life. Tiny lips made a sucking motion and one red little fist waved in the air. With her breath held, Joanna tore her gaze from the baby and looked up at Pace.

  When she saw the look of wonder and awe on his face, tears streamed down her cheeks. He looked down at her and she was shocked to see matching tears on his face.

  “My God,” he said, his voice shaking. “You did it, Firefly.”

  “We did it.”

  His grin could have lit the world. “We did it. Thank you,” he said fervently. “Thank you for my son.” Then he grinned again, this time at Spence. “He’s better looking than yours.”

  Out in the hall Matt and Travis heard the laughter. “That’s it!” Matt cried. “I can’t stand anymore.” He gave one hard wrap on the door, then thrust it open.

  Joanna slept the clock around for two full days. When she woke, it was to a sight that brought tears to her eyes, a sight that would continue to bring tears to her eyes every time she recalled it for the rest of her life, and maybe beyond.

  Pace was in bed with her, fully clothed and stretched on his side on top of the covers. Several days worth of beard stubble darkened his face and made him look like a hard, merciless brigand. Except for the softest, most tender smile.

  Joanna, too, lay on her side. Her gown was unbuttoned to her waist, and the baby—our son!—lay sleeping on his tummy, with his mouth barely touching her nipple. Father and son had obviously fallen asleep while the son nursed.

  Pace’s eyes suddenly flew open. “What’s wrong?” he asked, instantly alert, his brow furrowed.

  Joanna smiled through her tears and shook her head. “I thought I’d dreamed you.”

  “Hell, Firefly.” With a thumb, he wiped a tear from beneath one of her eyes. “I’m nobody’s idea of a dream.”

  “You’re wrong.” She sniffed; her smile wobbled. “You’re mine. You, and him,” she added, lightly touching the baby’s cap of thick black h
air. “Is he perfect?”

  Pace chuckled. “Ten fingers, ten toes, and all the other equipment boys are supposed to have.”

  The baby stirred and pressed a fist against Joanna’s breast. His mouth latched unerringly onto her nipple with a zeal that surprised an audible gasp from her.

  Pace swallowed hard. It was embarrassing to realize he was suddenly jealous of a tiny baby, his son. But in that moment, with her breasts bared and her eyes luminous with love and wonder, Pace desperately wanted to lean down and place his own mouth on her nipple, taste the sweet sustenance there, feel the nipple pearl and harden against his tongue.

  He closed his eyes and fought down the frustration that ate at him. The wanting was there, the need, the hunger. Even the heat. But nothing more. No stirring and hardening in his loins. No sign that he was man enough to give what a man should be able to give to the woman he loved.

  Bitterness rose in his throat. For Joanna’s sake, he swallowed that, too. When he opened his eyes to look at her, she was asleep again.

  Pace had been watching her sleep for two days, willing whatever strength he had to her. Now that she had awakened, even if only for a few minutes, the tightness in his chest eased. She was going to be all right. Spence had said that with plenty of bed rest she would fully recover from her ordeal, but Pace had been afraid to leave her side.

  Now he feared disturbing her if he stayed and watched her sleep. He’d never been able to sleep with anyone staring at him. Leaving the baby nursing vigorously at her breast, he eased off the bed and out of the room.

  After informing his mother and Serena that Jo had been awake for a few minutes, he headed for the barn. He had promised to teach Will and Russ a new rope trick, but the boys were in school for the day. If he was going to hang around at least until Jo recovered, he figured he might as well lend a hand around the ranch.

  He rode out with Enrique Gonzales, one of his father’s top hands, to repair a section of downed fence a half hour east of the house. When they got there they found that a fence post had split.

  “That bull, he was one angry hombre when he tore through here,” Enrique said. “I should have noticed the busted post. Now I’ll have to ride back to headquarters and get a new one.”