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  He shook his head and walked closer to the bed. “It’s okay.”

  “I just don’t want to be alone, you know?”

  He nodded. “I said it’s all right. Don’t you think you should contact him, though?”

  “I will not speak to him now,” she gritted out between her teeth, as she wiped away a tear. “He doesn’t deserve to know. If he cared so much he wouldn’t have walked out and… oh God, here’s another one!”

  She reached out her hand and he took hold of it as he watched her being pulled into some great torrent of pain. Her pretty face became contorted and deep red. The veins in her neck strained with the effort as she moaned. It was reminiscent of the times he’d felt helpless watching soldiers who’d been shot in the gut as they waited in the muddy trenches for a medic. Her intense grip on his hand lessened as she seemed to crest over the worst of it and slide back to some amount of comfort.

  “They’re getting stronger,” she gasped with a weak smile as she let go of his hand. “I guess I should try those breathing exercises with the next one.”

  “Good idea,” he answered, wondering how she could be so strong. Her dark blond hair was damp with exertion and her wide blue eyes looked scared. His heart went out to her and he tried to smile reassuringly. “Women have been having babies since, well, forever. You’ll do fine, Suzanne.”

  “You think?” she asked hopefully.

  “I know,” he replied, leaning on the metal railing. “That nurse said you might want me to get your bag. Should I?”

  She grabbed his shirt. “Don’t leave me, okay? I mean, you don’t have to stay through the whole thing, but just don’t go right now. I know I sound like a baby about all this, but nothing is turning out the way I’d planned.” Releasing him, she ran her fingers through her hair. “Like who plans on having their husband tell them about his affair with their best friend and then hitting a man with their wedding ring and dragging him out of the river?” She looked up to him as she let him go. “How’s your head?”

  “It’s fine,” Charles said, deciding now was not the time to let this woman know it was a bullet that had grazed his temple, not her ring. “A man gave me a bandage and this shirt.”

  Suzanne looked to the green paper shirt and tears started once more. “I’m so sorry for getting you messed up with all this.”

  “Hey, you saved my life. Don’t be sorry.”

  She appeared to shrug that off as she waved her hand. “Anybody would have done it. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  Okay. He mentally refuted the word. He was definitely not okay. He had no idea where the hell he was and how he had gotten here, nor how to get back to normalcy. He had business to take care of and a score to settle.

  “I’m really sorry about everything. I guess I didn’t want to admit to anyone else that I’d been abandoned. Kinda cowardly, huh?”

  “I’m indebted and grateful to you, Suzanne. And you shouldn’t be worrying about what anyone else thinks right now. I’ll stay with you as long as you want. I owe you that.”

  She stared into his eyes for the longest time and then started crying again. “You’re a very nice man, Charles Garrity, even if you drive a car like a maniac.”

  He chuckled for the first time in a long while. “Hey, I got you here, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did and… oh God… it’s starting again! I should be breathing and… and I can’t!” She panted and blew air out of her mouth and then muttered, “It’s not working!”

  He continued to hold her hand, even though she was clutching him so hard he was sure his fingers would be numb when she let go. “You are breathing, Suzanne,” he said, trying to reassure her and stop her near hysteria from escalating.

  “Not… not the right breathing,” she again muttered through the instances of pain, her face a grimace of agony before she gratefully collapsed back onto the pillow with relief.

  When she released his hand, he too took a deep breath and began looking around at all the machines in the room. His mind was too overwhelmed to ask questions and he didn’t think Suzanne would appreciate his curiosity at the moment. “You’re all right?” he asked with concern.

  She nodded. “I have to get this under control. I’m supposed to breathe in short gasps and concentrate on something. I bought this tiny angel and that was supposed to be my focal point and—” She started crying again.

  “Tell me what to do,” he said, patting her arm in a feeble attempt to comfort her. Shit, how could he be so useless? How the hell did he get to be in this room with a woman who was about to deliver a baby? He knew what to do in a war. He also knew what to do with that sonofabitch Mitch Davies. But here and now, he was more than completely lost.

  “All right,” the nurse announced, interrupting his thoughts as she burst back into the room. “Your doctor has been notified and is on his way. Now, let’s get this IV started and then hook you up to the fetal monitor.”

  Charles stood back as the nurse took over and he glanced away with an inward shudder when she inserted a long needle into Suzanne’s hand. When he looked back, the woman was sticking a long narrow tube to it that was attached to a clear bag on a pole. What were they doing to Suzanne? She didn’t appear to be protesting, so it must be all right. The nurse adjusted something on the needle and then walked in front of him to a machine. She picked up a long black belt with several wires attached and brought them to Suzanne.

  “Let’s hook you up and then your husband can monitor your contractions.”

  Within minutes, the machine was beeping quickly and the nurse instructed him how to tell when another contraction would begin. “See the way it’s rising now?” she asked, pointing to a small window on the thing as Suzanne began to moan.

  He nodded stupidly.

  “I’ll turn down the baby’s heartbeat so that won’t distract you.”

  Again, he simply nodded and then saw Suzanne looking at him with a panicked expression. He held out his hand and she grabbed it, panting and blowing and shaking her head.

  “It’s not working!” she moaned as the contraction began to build.

  “But it is working,” he answered, looking at the confusing machine. “See?”

  “I mean the damn breathing!” she yelled.

  Startled, he glanced at the nurse, who shrugged and said, “You’d better help her. You’re her coach, aren’t you?”

  “Her coach?”

  “You really are rattled, huh?” the nurse asked with a grin, as though she wasn’t the least bit concerned with Suzanne’s pain. “Go on, get in there and breathe with her.”

  “Oh, breathe. Coach her breathing.” Damn it, he never felt more inept in his life. Deciding somebody in the room had to take charge, Charles said in a firm voice, “Now look at me, Suzanne. Let’s breathe together. Come on, in,” he said, drawing in a breath that puffed out his chest. “Now, out,” he exhaled. “In… and out.”

  “No, like this,” the nurse interrupted. “Heeee. Heeee. Hoooowwww.”

  “What?”

  “Didn’t they teach you anything in those classes? Do it. Heeee. Heeee. Long breath… Hoooowwww.”

  As insane as it all seemed, he started breathing as he was instructed and soon Suzanne was breathing along with him. He glanced at the machine. “It’s going down now.”

  Suzanne nodded and sank back against the pillow, releasing his mangled hand.

  “Okay, I’m going to examine you again, Suzanne,” the nurse said when the contraction was over. She lifted the sheet and within moments peeked over Suzanne’s knees. “Looks like we’re progressing quickly. You’re dilated to eight centimeters. It’ll be any time now.”

  “What about my doctor?” Suzanne gasped, her face suddenly deathly white.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve delivered several babies without a doctor, but I’ll call for a resident right now,” she said, snapping off her strange rubbery-looking gloves and disposing of them in a basket by the door. “You two keep it up and do your part. We’ll do ours.”


  The door gently closed behind her and Charles turned his head to look at Suzanne. Now, if possible, she looked even more scared.

  “This baby’s coming too quickly. I’m two weeks early. What if something’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong, lass,” he answered, stroking back the hair from her forehead. “The nurse didn’t seem concerned at all.”

  “She didn’t, did she?” Suzanne asked hopefully. “And I’m hardly a lass, but thanks for the sentiment.”

  He tried to smile. “The nurse just said you’re progressing quickly. Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “I suppose it is,” she mumbled. “I never knew it was going to be like this. Nobody really prepares you.”

  “I’m sure you’re going to be just fine,” he answered, glancing back at the machine. “Say, do you want a boy or a girl?” he asked, hoping to distract her.

  “I’m having a boy. We found out months ago.”

  “What?” he looked back at her. “How could you know?”

  “Tests. Ever hear of a sonogram?”

  “No. Honestly, Suzanne, I haven’t heard or seen anything that makes much sense to me today. Nothing. Not this… this place. These people. None of this.”

  “Look, Charlie… I already told you, neither of us is allowed a nervous breakdown, remember? Tomorrow we can both have one, just not right now,” she insisted. “Do you have any children?”

  “No. I’m not married.”

  She issued a sarcastic noise with her mouth. “Smart man. Truthfully, I don’t know if I believe in it anymore. The whole family unit thing. I mean, what a joke. It was like I was hypnotized into believing that love and honor and marriage and family were the pot of gold at the end of a woman’s rainbow. Just look at the statistics and you can see what a lie that is… and now I’m just another statistic. No husband. No love. No honor. No marriage. Just me and my baby. But we’ll find our happiness together. We don’t need a man for that!”

  “You’re angry,” he whispered, knowing all too well the bitterness that can enter one’s heart when one’s been betrayed. He wished he could find the words that might soothe them both.

  “You’re right, I am angry. I have a right to be royally pissed off. I was duped.”

  He had known a few flappers in his time, women who flaunted society’s standards, but Suzanne just didn’t seem the type. Even though he’d only met her a few hours earlier, he’d detected her softer side. “I think you’re hurt, lassie, and the way you’re feeling is natural.”

  She stared at him and the wet film of tears appeared at her eyes again. “You know, if I really think about it, I might just lose my mind.”

  “Right now, I can definitely understand that, Suzanne. So don’t think about it. Think about your son, who’s going to be born today. Soon, you’ll hold him in your arms. Surely, that will be your pot of gold.”

  “You’re right. I don’t know where you came from, Charles Garrity, but you’re an answer to my prayers,” she moaned.

  He turned his head and watched the small window on the machine. “You’re about to have another contraction,” he advised in what he hoped was a calm voice.

  “Brilliant deduction, Sherlock!” she muttered as she grabbed his hand again. “Like I need you and the damn machine to tell me that!”

  It was obvious Suzanne didn’t need to be soft now. Strength, however it manifested, would serve her better. Deciding it best not to be offended, Charles commanded, “Look at my face and breathe with me! Heeee. Heeee. Hoooowwww.”

  She stared into his eyes with such focus and determination that Charles felt like she was entering his mind and taking control. He even felt his body begin to tense, the muscles of his abdomen tightening along with hers. He kept breathing and staring and breathing. He was sure his face was as red as hers as together they rode out the crest of pain.

  Suzanne collapsed once more against the pillows and sobbed. “I can’t do this anymore,” she cried. “It’s like two steel claws are ripping me apart. Somebody help me. I want it all to go away. I want my normal life back. I want… I want drugs! Just knock me out and tell me when it’s over!”

  “Drugs? Like opium?”

  “If you’ve got it, hand it over.”

  He couldn’t help chuckling. “You can do this, Suzanne. You aren’t alone. I promise I won’t leave you.”

  She sniffled and opened her eyes. “When I was standing at the creek and feeling so alone, I asked for help and along you came. Thanks, Charles. Guess you never figured on this, huh? Standing in a labor room with a crazy woman?”

  “Suzanne, you’re right about one thing. I had no idea any of this was possible.”

  Neither of them said a word until Suzanne muttered, “Oh, God, here comes another one!”

  He stroked back her hair once more and whispered, “C’mon, you can do it.” This woman had saved his life and now, for some odd reason, it was of the utmost importance to him that he not let her down. “Let’s ride this one out together.”

  And they did, over and over again, like two warriors united in battle, intent on victory, and the victory was life, a brand-new life.

  3

  She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply the sweet, soft innocent scent of him. There was such peace, such joy, and she knew it was all worth it to feel him outside her body, healthy, beautiful, precious. His head was nestled under her jaw and she turned slightly to kiss his tiny forehead.

  “I love you, Matty,” she whispered with a heart that was near bursting. “I made you a promise. Somehow… you and I… we’ll make it.”

  She ran her hand over his small back and felt his breath going in and out of his little body as he slept on her chest. Even though he was almost two weeks early, the doctors had declared him healthy. How she was filled with love for him, all six pounds, seven ounces. A little over three hours ago, she would have done anything to get him out of her and she almost giggled when she thought of the comedy of his birth.

  Poor Charlie… what she had put him through, and he’d taken it. He had gotten her to the hospital and had stayed with her until they’d wheeled her into the delivery room. Even she didn’t have the nerve to ask a stranger to go with her and witness that. Her doctor had arrived as she was pushing on the delivery table and Suzanne swore the whole thing was like some bizarre TV drama. If she hadn’t gone through it, she wouldn’t have believed it herself. But Charles had been her lifeline, forcing her to concentrate and not lose her mind with pain. She wondered where he was and how she could possibly thank him for everything he’d done. How did you thank someone for saving your life and the life of your son? She’d asked for help and she’d certainly received it.

  He truly was her hero, at a time when a hero was mighty welcomed in her life.

  As though her thoughts made him appear, the door slowly opened and he walked into the room. She smiled at him and he smiled back, almost shyly, as he came closer to the bed.

  “He’s so tiny,” Charles whispered in awe.

  Suzanne swore she saw a film of tears in his eyes as he continued to stare at her son. Maybe it was just exhaustion. He still wore the green hospital shirt with his dark pants and brown boots. The man certainly had been through the proverbial wringer. “But he’s strong. The doctor said I can take him home with me tomorrow. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  Charles nodded. “I’m happy for you, Suzanne.”

  “Thank you. So where have you been?”

  “I’ve been sitting in the waiting room. A nurse came up to me and said I could visit. It’s all right, isn’t it? Would you rather I leave? I just… well, wanted to see him and make sure you were all right.”

  She reached out her hand for his and he looked at her with expectation.

  “Thank you, Charles. You saved my life and my son’s. I don’t know if I can ever repay you.”

  He appeared embarrassed and waved off her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the one who saved my life.”

  “Well, then we’re even on that score, bu
t I still owe you for his. How can I repay you? What can I do for you?”

  “You don’t have to do anything.” He quickly squeezed her hand and then shoved his own into his pants pockets, jingling coins inside. “I would have bought you flowers, or something, but they wouldn’t take my money in the shop here.”

  “That’s okay,” she said with a soft smile, touched that someone wanted to give her flowers to commemorate the birth of her son. She didn’t feel quite so alone on this monumental occasion. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Well, I couldn’t. I tried to argue with the woman, but she wouldn’t listen and threatened to call security. I’m sorry, Suzanne. Every other mother here looks like they have flowers. You deserve them too.”

  Blinking rapidly, she felt a burning at her eyes and in her nostrils. “That’s sweet of you, Charles.” Determined not to get too emotional, she whispered, “Would you like to hold him?”

  He looked down to the small bundle lying on her chest, and whispered back, “I’ve never held a baby. I don’t want to hurt him.”

  Smiling, Suzanne gently lifted her son and said, “You won’t. Just cradle him in your arms.”

  She watched as Charles stared down at the sleeping baby and slowly accepted him. Her throat began to close as she viewed the man holding the child. It should have been her husband. This should have been a time of bonding as a new family. Immediately, she shook that notion out of her head. She simply could not allow such thoughts right now. She had been thrust into a bizarre situation and would do what she must to survive. What she needed was to stay strong for her son and for whatever the uncertain future held for them. She may not know much about her life any longer, but she knew that much.

  “What’s his name?”

  Clearing her throat, Suzanne said, “Matthew. Matthew Charles McDermott.”

  He glanced up from the baby with surprise. “Was that planned?”

  She shook her head. “Seems fitting, though, since you came to our rescue, that he should carry your name too. I don’t know how I can ever thank you for what you did in that labor room with me. You saved my sanity when I thought I was losing it. I don’t know that I would have made it without you.”