His Baby Bombshell

by Jessica Matthews

  While she wrapped up her instructions, he placed Jeremy in the swing contraption, wound the handle and set the seat in motion before guiding her into the bedroom. "Come on. You'll feel better after you lie down."

  He'd expected more of an argument, but she obviously felt terrible because she meekly let him help her onto the mattress. An instant later, he closed the blinds against the morning sun and left the room.

  "It's you and me, bud," he told Jeremy. "Hang tight and I'll be right back."

  A phone call, a diaper change and a bottle of warm formula later, Jeremy was fast asleep.

  Debating on whether or not to cart him along on his errand of mercy, he wondered what would be worse. Sabrina waking up and discovering Jeremy was missing, or Jeremy crying and she couldn't respond? He chose to haul the baby with him.

  Just in case she did stir before he got home again, he scribbled a note and placed it in Jeremy's crib, then quietly left the house. After some struggles due to inexperience, he strapped the baby carrier in backwards as he'd seen his friends do with their children's safety seats, and carefully drove to a nearby pharmacy.

  By the time he returned, both mother and baby were still asleep. He opted to address Sabrina's needs first.

  "Sabrina," he said softly, as he shook one large, white tablet out of the prescription bottle, "swallow this."

  She opened bleary eyes. "What is it?"

  "Your migraine pill."

  "How…? Where…?"

  "Don't ask questions, just sit up and swallow."

  As soon as she'd downed the medicine, along with a liberal amount of water, she sank back onto her pillow. "Thanks," she mumbled, closing her eyes.

  Suddenly hesitant to leave, he watched her and noticed the lines of strain around her eyes and mouth. In days past she would have welcomed one of his head and neck massages until the pill took the edge off her pain. Now she wouldn't appreciate his efforts.

  As he settled Jeremy in his crib, he heard her whimper in her sleep. Oh, what the hell, he thought. She might not want his non-traditional therapy, but he had to do more than twiddle his thumbs and watch her suffer.

  He perched on the edge of the bed, touched her temples with a feather-light caress, then began his gentle massage. If she only took her over-the-counter meds every few months instead of two or three times a week, then she wasn't setting herself up for a complication known as "rebound" headaches—a condition when the treatment actually caused the headache instead of relieving it.

  As he ran through his med-school lecture by a neurologist on this very subject, he remembered how migraines loved change. Any variations in one's life, whether it involved a disruption in the sleep cycle, missed meals or being exposed to sudden stress, could easily act as the trigger.

  From what he'd seen during the past week, any one or all of those things could be the culprit. Babies weren't known to have regular sleeping habits; Sabrina obviously didn't eat properly or regularly; and his appearance in her life had clearly raised her stress level.

  With painstaking care, he gradually smoothed away the tension with slow, soothing strokes. By the time the furrows between her brows became less pronounced, he began noticing as well as remembering other things—like how soft her skin felt. How her hair smelled like spring flowers. How it felt to have her long legs wrapped around him. How the curve of her breasts beckoned for his hands…

  He wanted her badly, but he didn't feel worthy of this woman. He'd failed her in so many ways and he considered himself lucky that he'd wriggled his way this far into her good graces. Unfortunately, he still wasn't to the point where she willingly depended on him. The only reason he was sitting beside her now was because she'd been too wiped out from the pain to protest.

  He wanted to be her first choice, not the consolation prize. Dammit, he wanted to be here with her and their son twenty-four seven, not just for a few hours every evening. He wanted to watch Jeremy take his first steps, to hear his first recognizable words, to teach him new things and see his wide-eyed wonderment. He wanted to give Jeremy a brother or a sister.

  Family meant everything to him. It always had and always would. His father had passed his responsibility for his children to Adrian and he'd willingly accepted them. Now he wanted to accept one more. Regardless of the details surrounding Jeremy's conception, that small child was his to nurture and to take care of. He simply had to figure out a way to juggle both sets of commitments in two different locations.

  He leaned over and brushed his mouth against hers. "We will work something out, Bree," he whispered. "Count on it."

  To his surprise, she murmured, "I waited for you…but you took so long. So very long…"

  It had only been twelve hours since he'd last seen her and she considered that to be a long time? She could have called him and he would have broken speed records to drive across town, until he realized he'd never given her his cellphone number and she'd never asked.

  "I'm here now, Bree," he said instead.

  Her hand moved to her abdomen. "Can you feel our baby kicking? Do you want a boy or a girl?"

  In that instant, he realized she was caught up in a state where dreams and memories intermingled and she was talking in her sleep.

  "I don't care," he said hoarsely, "as long as it's healthy."

  "Me, too." She sighed. "I'm so tired."

  "Then sleep."

  "You'll stay? Beside me?"

  He hesitated, knowing how tough it would be to lie next to her without driving himself utterly crazy, but there was no other place he'd rather be at this particular moment.

  "I'll stay." Carefully, he got in to bed from the other side, then pulled her against him.

  "Love you," she mumbled.

  The words caught him by surprise before he decided she had to be dreaming. He may have made progress in paying for his sins, but she was still too wary to hand her heart over to him so easily.

  She would, though. He'd failed at other things in his life, but he wouldn't at this one.

  * * *

  Sabrina slowly drifted awake with the most wonderful sense of well-being. It was unbelievable because normally, when the migraine pain faded, she woke up feeling exhausted. She grabbed her watch off the bedside table and read the display. Twelve-fifteen.

  How could she feel this good after a two-hour nap? But it had to be, because the sun was shining. She couldn't have slept for twenty-four hours, but as she glanced at the date on her watch face, she realized it was true. A full day had passed.

  Jeremy! Dear heavens, who'd taken care of him if she'd slept that long?

  Fear speared her chest as she took in the empty bed and she bolted upright. The diaper bag was missing, too. Ready to call 911 and report a child abduction, she noticed a piece of paper taped to the crib's headboard.

  The note was in Adrian's handwriting.

  She snatched it free and scanned it. Dear Bree, it began.

  Don't worry about Jeremy. I took him to the hospital day care. He'll be there, waiting for you to pick him up, but if you don't find this before I get off duty, I'll bring him by on my way home. Adrian.

  P.s. You're officially on a sick day today. Hilary says to take care of yourself.

  Relieved Jeremy was in a safe place, she was also furious with Adrian's presumptuous decision to report her as sick. He didn't have the right!

  Common sense, however, said she was fighting a foolish battle. Those extra hours of uninterrupted sleep had been exactly what she'd needed; on previous occasions, she'd carried on as usual and had felt drained for days. Instead of finding fault, she should thank him from the bottom of her heart.

  She sank onto the edge of the bed and tried to recall the previous day, but only bits and pieces came to mind. Adrian had come by for their trip, but she'd sent him away. He couldn't have gone to Denver, because he'd always seemed to be waking her to take a pill or to drink something. Which reminded her…she'd have to reimburse him for her prescription.

  At one point, she was certain he'd ki
ssed her, because she'd imagined the feel of his lips on hers, but that had surely been a dream, hadn't it?

  She'd also felt cozy and secure, almost as if he'd held her, but either her subconscious had worked overtime or she'd dredged up ancient memories. Yet, as she gazed at the pillow beside hers and noticed a faint indentation as if someone's head had rested there, she came to an undeniable conclusion.

  Adrian had spent the night there. He hadn't just spent the night, either. He'd slept with her, in her room, in her bed.

  Oh, my. No wonder she'd felt so warm and cozy. She'd always gravitated to his warmth because she was usually cold, so she had probably used him as her pillow and blanket. For a woman who'd tried to maintain emotional distance, how would she face him?

  There was nothing to face, she scolded herself. She'd practically been unconscious, and if she'd made any inappropriate overtures, Adrian would chalk them up to her being out of her mind with pain. He wouldn't have taken advantage of her, because at heart he was an honorable man.

  As she gazed at Jeremy's crib, she couldn't quite decide if she should feel grateful for Adrian's help or not. The truth of the matter was that she'd tried calling Kate as soon as she'd noticed the blind spots in her vision some thirty minutes before the pain had hit, but Kate hadn't answered. While she'd battled with her pride about contacting Adrian because she hated to give him any reason to doubt her ability to take care of Jeremy, her migraine struck full force. In the end, she'd had to rely on him.

  That wasn't quite true. She hadn't had to do anything. She could have insisted that he track down Kate. Even though he wouldn't have wanted to, he would have because she'd asked.

  She wasn't reluctant to trust him with Jeremy; even in the middle of her migraine attack, she'd known her son had been safe with him. What wasn't safe, though, was her heart because much as it pained her to admit it, she was falling in love with him all over again. And that fact made it far too easy to pretend they were a happy family.

  The problem was, she shouldn't love him. She did once, and look where it had gotten her. Starting over in a new community with a new job, pregnant, all sorts of expenses. In her opinion, it was far too dangerous, not to mention horribly one-sided to love him again when Jeremy was the only glue holding them together. She simply had to rein in her wishful thinking. Maybe she could reluctantly accept that his motives had been altruistic and he'd only been trying to spare her, but what would happen the next time?

  OK, so she knew he took his familial responsibilities seriously and probably wouldn't repeat his past mistake, but it was all about Jeremy. No matter what happened and to whom, he'd never push Jeremy away because he wanted him in his life in the worst way. To Adrian, she would simply be the means to his end because to get to Jeremy, he had to go through her first.

  How pitiful for her to be jealous of her own son!

  But thinking of her energetic baby with his ready smile and sweet temperament made her realize how badly she wanted him in her arms, at home. If she had gotten an extra day off, she intended to spend as much of it as possible with the little boy who was her entire life.

  * * *

  Adrian had never considered himself a clock-watcher, but he did today. He'd wanted to call Sabrina to see how she was doing, but if she was sleeping—and he hoped she was—he didn't want to wake her. He also hoped that his efforts yesterday would finally break through their relationship stalemate.

  The sudden appearance of a tall fellow with a haggard expression on his face interrupted his thoughts. "I'm Dr Malloy. Thomas Malloy. I understand you treated a Jane Doe last week?"

  "Yes, I did. How can I help you?"

  "I'm her husband. May we talk privately?"

  "Sure." Adrian led him to the small medical staff office and closed the door. "I probably can't tell you much because of the privacy acts."

  "I know. I've already spoken to the police and they told me everything. What I'd like to know is your impression of her mental state."

  "Her amnesia," Adrian guessed.

  "Yes."

  "Her neurologist and psychiatrist could give you more information than I can," he began.

  "Probably, if I could reach them," Thomas said impatiently. "According to their secretaries, both are tied up until late this afternoon. I'd like to know something now."

  Adrian understood the man's frustration. "Have you seen your wife yet?"

  Thomas shook his head. "I was out of town at a conference when I got the news my wife was missing. You see, before I left, Abigail told me she was seeing an attorney and wanted to file for a divorce. She asked me to cancel my trip so we could talk but as one of the conference organizers, I couldn't. So…" He sighed heavily. "She arranged to visit a friend in Breckenridge while I was gone. Supposedly to think.

  "Unfortunately," Thomas continued, "she hadn't confirmed her plans with her old roommate, so when Abby didn't arrive, Rosie just thought she'd changed her mind and didn't question her absence until Abby's mother called because she hadn't been able to reach her. We started searching and found her here." He paused. "When I think of what that bastard did…what happened to her…." His voice broke. "Part of me is glad she forgot all that and part of me wants her to remember this guy so he can pay."

  Adrian felt for the man's pain. "I understand, but if it's any consolation, when she was in our ED, she seemed to be handling herself well. She was scared because she couldn't remember the details of her life that we take for granted, but she was calm and in relatively good health. I haven't seen her since we transferred her upstairs, so she may have regained some of her memory."

  "According to the detective, she hasn't." He ran his hands through his hair. "The question is, if she wanted a divorce, do I let her go through with it, even though she can't remember?"

  Adrian hesitated. He was the last person on earth to ask for marital advice. "I'm not the best person to advise you," he began. "I'm not—"

  "I'm not asking for a medical opinion. I guess I'm just thinking out loud, one man to another."

  Although Adrian didn't know this man, he couldn't turn his back on a fellow physician. If Malloy wanted a sounding board, Adrian would oblige. "What do you want to do?"

  "I don't want her to leave," he said hoarsely. "The police told me we have a baby coming—our first—so I'll do whatever it takes to convince her to change her mind. I'll cut my hours, spend more time with her and the baby when it arrives, whatever. I want a second chance."

  Although his own situation wasn't as dramatic as Thomas Malloy's, Adrian knew exactly how the man felt. "If that's what you want, then you should take it."

  Thomas nodded. "I almost feel guilty, as if I'm tricking her, but her amnesia gives us a clean slate. We can write an entirely new future for our marriage on it."

  "And if she ever does remember?" Adrian hated playing the devil's advocate, but the man needed to think of every angle.

  "By then, I hope we'll have restored enough of our relationship to make her wonder why she wanted a divorce in the first place."

  Adrian held out his hand. "Good luck, then. Let me know how everything turns out."

  "Thanks," Thomas said, shaking Adrian's hand with a firm grip. "I will."

  For the rest of the morning, Malloy's words echoed in Adrian's head. You have a clean slate. A clean slate. A clean slate. Several patients later, he decided to take Malloy's comment to heart.

  After lunch, and after he'd explained to Maria Rios that her blood pressure was still too high and she needed to stay until they saw a response to her hypertension medication, he opened the exam-room door and heard a familiar baby laugh.

  Immediately he smiled and strode toward the nurses' station, marveling at how quickly he'd learned to recognize his son's voice. "Someone's happy," he remarked as he came up to the staff gathered there.

  "He loves the attention," Sabrina said, looking like a completely different woman from the one he'd seen yesterday. From the glow on her face, no one would ever know she'd suffered a debilitating m
igraine twenty-four hours ago.

  "A typical male response when surrounded by adoring women," he said as he tugged on one of Jeremy's socked feet, eliciting another giggle and a fair amount of joyful kicking. "Lucky fellow."

  "I'll say." Hilary smiled fondly at Jeremy. "Makes me eager for grandkids. Until then, I'll just have to spoil this one." She addressed Adrian. "Is Mrs Rios ready to go home?"

  "Not until her blood pressure comes down. I want it taken every fifteen minutes. Call me as soon as there's a change."

  "Will do." Hilary snapped her fingers at the staff still hovering around the desk. "Come on, people, back to work."

  The group scattered, leaving Adrian and Sabrina behind. "I see you stopped at day care. I hope I sent enough stuff with him."

  "You did. I just stopped by to let you know you didn't have to bring him home."

  "I wouldn't have minded."

  "Now you don't need to. Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks, for yesterday. For everything."

  "You're welcome. It was my pleasure."

  "You should have woke me this morning, though. I could have managed Jeremy myself."

  Sensing she was trying to prove a point, he simply nodded. "Probably, but I'd say those few extra hours of sleep made a difference."

  "I appreciate it, but I'm sorry you missed your trip on my account."

  "I took care of nearly everything by phone. Clay's coming by tonight with my mail and to have dinner with us, so no harm done."

  "Dinner? With us?"

  "Yeah. I invited him to your place so I hope you don't mind, but it seemed easier for Jeremy's schedule if we spent the evening there rather than at my apartment. By the way, did you notice the steaks in your refrigerator?"

  She shook her head. "No. But, Adrian," she protested, "I don't have a grill and—"

  "Not to worry. Harvey's Hardware will deliver one this afternoon."

  Her gaze narrowed. "What happens to the grill when you leave? I can't keep—"

  "You'll use it and if you don't want the hassle when you're alone, I'll fire it up when I visit on the weekends. Remember?" He grabbed the handle on Jeremy's carrier and lifted him off the counter. "I hate to run, but if I don't get back to work, Hilary will scold me. I've learned it's not a good thing to land on the head nurse's bad side. So, I'll see you both tonight."