Читать книгу The Bravo Bachelor - Christine Rimmer - Страница 9

Handsome, clever Gabe Bravo was looking at her strangely.

He said her name again, with urgency. “Mary!” His briefcase hit the floor with a smack as he lunged to catch her before she fell. She collapsed against him, moaning.

So embarrassing. To be groaning like this, holding her belly, sweating profusely—and leaning on this rich, slick stranger. But she couldn’t help it. If she didn’t let him hold her up, she would be on the floor.

Sagging in his strong arms, she felt the wetness as it dripped out of her. Not a flood. Uh-uh. More of an ooze. A slimy dribble. Mary shuddered at the icky feel of it.

“You’re shaking,” Gabe said. “What the hell is going on?”

She looked up to meet his worried eyes. “My, um, my water just broke. I think I have to go and have my baby…”

His bronze brows drew together. “Now?”

“Yes. I think so. Now.”

“You’re serious.”

“I certainly am.” Another cramp took her, this one worse than the last. Stronger. More overwhelming. “Aungh…” All she could do was clutch her belly with one hand and his arm with the other and groan like something not quite human.

He didn’t leave her. He stayed there, holding her up as the cramp crested and finally began to recede. When the pain eased, as she panted and sweated in the aftermath of it, he said, “Come on. Let’s get you comfortable.”

“Comfortable?” She looked at him with horror. She didn’t even know him, and he was going to make her comfortable? Rowdy, she cried inside. Oh, Rowdy. I need you. I need you so bad. Why aren’t you here? What she said was, “I.. .no. I’ll be fine. Really. And you need to go.”

“Come on,” he said again, as if she hadn’t spoken. He started for the living room, guiding her along, his arm around her waist, keeping her upright at the same time as he urged her forward.

“Did you hear what I said?” She tried to jerk away.

He held on. “I heard you. And I’m not leaving. Not until you’ve called for help.”

Okay. He had a point. She was in no condition to be left alone. And as she shuffled away from the table, she realized she didn’t dare let go of him, after all. Another cramp might come. She would end up on the floor.

The short walk, as she clung to him, stumbling along, panting, still leaking fluid under her jeans, seemed to take forever. When they got there, he helped her to sit, holding on to steady her as she lowered herself.

Halfway down to the sofa cushions, she let out a yelp. “No! I don’t think I can…really, I can’t…” What was she saying? She had no idea. “Oh, I’m so scared. This isn’t supposed to be…not now. Too early. I have three weeks yet…”

“Shh,” he said, so softly. “Mary. It’s all right. Whatever’s going on, you’ll get through it. You will. You’re going to be fine…”

“Fine?” She stared at him, frantic, sweat in her eyes. “Fine?” She spat the word at him.

“Yes. Fine.” His blue gaze didn’t waver. “Now, come on. Sit down. You can do it. Come on…”

And somehow, she did do it. Clutching his arm like a lifeline, she allowed him to guide her the rest of the way down.

“Good,” he said softly, when at last she was seated. “Now, let’s take off your shoes and you can stretch out.”

“No!” She slapped his gentle hand away and pressed her legs together in an attempt to hide the dark stains on her jeans. While she was staggering here from the kitchen, the fluid had run all the way down into her Keds. She was not taking off her shoes, all wet and sticky, in front of a man she’d met less than an hour ago.

Mary groaned low again. The groan deepened to an animal growl as the next cramp struck. She grabbed his hand tight again, suddenly needing the contact. So what if she didn’t know him? He was there and that was everything. Curling over herself, one hand under her belly, the other holding tight to Gabe Bravo, she moaned long and loudly.

Somewhere in the middle of that one, he said, “I’ll call an ambulance.”

“No.” She clutched his hand for dear life, squeezing it till she heard the finger joints pop. “Wait. Stay. You have to…one minute…”

When the cramping passed that time, she panted out instructions. “Phone. Over there. On the desk.” He got it and gave it to her. “Doctor,” she said, wheezing like a winded horse. “Calling my doctor…”

“All right. Great idea.” He stood there beside her, waiting, as she autodialed the number.

Dr. Breitmann came right to the phone. She told him about her water breaking and he asked how far apart her contractions were. When she said she could hardly tell as there hadn’t been that many, he chuckled.

“You’re going to be fine, Mary,” the doctor said. “Just head on over to the hospital. I’ll meet you there and we’ll see what’s going on.”

“I’m…” She turned away from the stranger looming over her and spoke low into the phone. “I’m all wet.”

“You can go ahead and change.” Dr. Breitmann said. “And clean up a little, if you wish. Not a bath. But you can wipe off with a damp cloth and then use a sanitary napkin. Amniotic fluid will probably continue to escape.”

“Ugh,” she said in response to that bit of news.

“You’ll be okay,” he reassured her again. “We don’t want to fool around with this, but it isn’t what you’d call an emergency.”

Surely she hadn’t heard right. “It isn’t?”

“Mary, in spite of what you see in the movies, it can sometimes be days before delivery after the water breaks.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. So take a deep breath and calm down.”

“All right. Yes. I will.”

“Just get yourself ready and come on to the hospital.”

When she hung up, Gabe was still looming above her. He demanded, “What did he say?”

She told him—though really, it was none of his business. “I…have to clean up a little. And then I have to go to the hospital. I’m going to be fine. Thank you for.. .being so great about this.”

“Not a problem.”

She waited, figuring he would get the message and get out. But he only looked at her, not budging, leaving her no choice but to tell him outright, “So, then. You should go.”

“Not until the ambulance gets here. Give me the phone and I’ll—”

“Uh-uh.” She pressed it to her chest. “You should go.”

From a pocket, he produced one of those devices that does everything but your laundry. “As soon as the ambulance gets here.”

She grabbed his hand before he could dial 911. “No ambulance. I don’t need one.”

The look in his eyes said he thought she was out of her mind. But he did put the device away. “Are you saying you have someone to drive you?”

She groaned and hunched over her stomach as the next contraction began. He waited, standing close beside her, as it crested and finally eased off. Once she could think again, she raised her gaze to his. “No ambulance,” she repeated, in case he hadn’t gotten the message the first two times she said it. An ambulance would cost more than she was ready to pay. She had insurance to cover the hospital and the birth, but not an optional ride with the EMTs. “Dr. Breitmann said this wasn’t an emergency, so an ambulance isn’t necessary.”

“Looks pretty damn necessary to me.” His square jaw was set.

“You’re not the decider on this. You need to—”

“Forget it.” He glared down at her. “I’m going nowhere. Not until your ride gets here.” He gestured at the phone she still clutched in her hand. “Go ahead. Call them. Tell them to get over here, fast.”

Mary shut her eyes and sucked in a slow breath through her nose.

He pressed her, as determined about this as he’d been about his pricey housing development. “You do have someone to drive you, don’t you?”

She drew herself up. “Of course, I have someone who’s supposed to drive me. My mother-in-law, Ida.”

“Good. Then call her. I’ll wait with you until she arrives. How far away is she?”

Mary gulped. “Well…”

“Where is your ride?” He said each word slowly, as if he doubted her ability to comprehend the question.

And she was forced to confess, “Ida’s in St. Louis. Her sister’s been sick. And please don’t look at me like that. I do have a ride. It’s all arranged. It’s just…I’m not due for three weeks. Ida was going to be home before the baby came.”

He sat down next to her on the sofa and touched the side of her face, guiding a sweaty tendril of hair out of her eye. Funny, but it didn’t bother her at all that he did that. She found his touch comforting, somehow. It steadied her.

“Mary.” He said her name so gently.

She tossed the phone to the sofa cushions and let out a moan. “Oh, this can’t be happening. Not today. Ida’s gone. And I have a deadline…”

“Mary.”

She made herself meet his eyes. “What?”

“Do what you need to do. Get your stuff.”

“And clean up. Really, I have to clean up.”

“Fine. Do it. And then I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

She gasped. “Oh, no. It’s too much. You don’t have to. Really.”

“You won’t take an ambulance and your ride’s in St. Louis. Do not try and tell me that you’ll be driving yourself.”

“I’m not. There are, um, neighbors I could call. And there’s—”

“Mary. Stop.”

“Oh, dear Lord…” She just couldn’t think. But he could. He knew what to do. “Go. Get ready. And we’ll be on our way.”

Satisfied that he’d finally convinced Mary to let him take her where she needed to go, Gabe waited beside her through another of those grueling contractions.

“Help me to my bedroom?” she asked him when it was over.

“You got it. Where is it?” He helped her up again.

She pointed toward the dining area. “In there. Opposite the kitchen…”

He walked her back there to the door on the left that led into her room. She got a change of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

She seemed to take a long time in there. That worried him. When over five minutes had passed, he knocked on the door. “You all right?”

“Yeah. Fine. Don’t you dare come in.”

“You need to get going. Don’t fool around in there.”

“Gabe?”

“Yeah?”

“I hate you.” She muttered the words, probably thinking he couldn’t hear them. Then, louder, “Never mind.”

He smiled to himself. “Just move it along.”

Maybe two minutes later, she emerged wearing clean clothes and carrying a stack of fresh towels. “I thought we might need these—you know, in your fancy car.”

God, he hoped not. “Good thinking.” He took them from her.

“And I have a suitcase all ready,” she said.

“Where?”

“Under the bed.”

So he set the towels on the bedspread and got down on his knees to drag it out for her. “I’ll just take this stuff to the car,” he said, rising. He picked up the stack of towels and hoisted the old hard-sided suitcase in his free hand.

She hobbled over and got the big, red shoulder bag from where it was hooked on the back of an old rocking chair. “Diaper bag.” She slid it onto his shoulder.

“Back in a flash,” he promised.

She pressed her lips together and nodded, reaching out to grasp the back of the rocker as another cramp started.

“Mary…” He took a step toward her.

She made a frantic waving-off motion with her free hand. “Go. Hurry. I’ll be…” She groaned. Hard. “Fine…”

He made himself leave her, turning and racing through the house, pausing only long enough to set down the suitcase and throw open the front door.

Outside, the Escalade waited, gleaming in the sun. The sight of it stunned him. He’d climbed out of it such a short time ago, certain of his ability to bend the Hofstetter widow to his will and the will of BravoCorp.

Somehow, things had gotten away from him—gotten away, big-time. In his pocket, his BlackBerry started vibrating. He went to the back and lifted the hatch and tossed in the suitcase and the diaper bag.

Then he took out the phone and glanced at the display. It was his father. Eager for a report on his meeting with the widow, no doubt.

You don’t want to know, Dad. He let the call go to voice mail and was putting the device away when it started vibrating again. This time he didn’t even stop to glance at it, just tucked it in his pocket and carried the towels to the backseat on the far side, where he left them, neatly stacked. In case she ended up needing them—a thought that made his gut clench.

He sent a fervent glance heavenward. He wasn’t a guy who prayed much, but he prayed then. Just let us make it to the hospital before she has that baby. Just that. It’s all I ask…

He ran around the front of the car, across the dusty yard and up the front steps. Inside again, he found her waiting in the open archway to the kitchen, slumped against the wall there. She was panting, staring at the floor. But when she heard him enter, she looked up, wiped her sweating brow and forced a smile.

“Got my purse…” She touched the strap over her shoulder and smiled wider, a smile that wobbled only a little.

“Good.” He strode toward her. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Wait.”

He stopped in mid-step. “What now?”

“Brownie.” The dog sat by the sofa. At the mention of her name, she stretched and wagged her tail. “She has a doggy door, in the laundry room off the kitchen. But if you could check her water bowl and pour her some food.” She gestured weakly over her shoulder. “Food’s in the cabinet next to the sink…”

He detoured around her and did what she asked. The dog came right over to sniff the bowl and eat a few lumps of dry food. He petted her on the head and then put the bag of food back in the cabinet.

“Okay,” he said, shutting the low door and rising. “Time to go.”

He went to her and wrapped an arm around her, noting abstractly that the lemon and soap scent of her had changed. Now, she smelled like.. .cleanser, of all things, a sweet sort of smell.

They hobbled to the door and out. She stopped to lock it, and the storm door as well, then leaned on him as they went down the steps and out to the car. He had the door open and her up in the backseat before he remembered he’d left his briefcase where he’d dropped it, halfway under the table, on the kitchen floor.

Too bad. He’d have to come back for it later. Right now, the goal was to get Mary to the hospital. ASAP.

He got in without noticing he’d left his Ray-Bans on the seat. They snapped as he sat on them. He swore and pulled them out from under him. Both lenses had popped out. He tossed the pieces onto the empty seat beside him and started up the engine.

In the back, Mary groaned and panted. He waited until she seemed to quiet—which meant she was between contractions—before he asked, “Where are we going?”

A breathless sound escaped her. “You.. .know Wulf City?”

It was blessedly close, maybe ten miles from there, just south of New Braunfels off I-35. “I know it. The name of the hospital?”

“Wulf City Memorial.” She rattled off an address.

He punched the information into the dashboard GPS. A moment later, the electronic map showed him where to go and the canned voice began giving instructions. He drove the SUV in the circle of driveway that went around her house. Her dog was sitting on the back patio, looking kind of lost.

He heard Mary whisper, “See you later, girl,” as they left the mutt behind.

In the backseat, Mary was hardly aware that they were merging onto the highway. She had one hand, whiteknuckled, on the armrest. The other was down low, holding her belly, her legs spread wide, all modesty forgotten.

She had a faraway awareness that Mr. Smooth, Gabe Bravo, had practically carried her, leaking, moaning and panting, to his fancy car. She probably should have been mortified.

But by then, she was pretty much beyond mortification. Actually, between the excruciating, never-ending contractions, when she could think again, she was grateful. That he was there. That she hadn’t ended up doing this impossible job alone.

Her heart hurt, knowing that Rowdy wasn’t behind that wheel instead. That he’d died before he even knew they were finally going to have the baby they’d been trying for since they got married. When she closed her eyes, she could still see his beloved, craggy face and hear his rough voice.

Oh, she did miss the way he would call her “sweetheart,” so shyly, with that look of adoration and wonder in his kind hazel eyes. She could see him as he left her that last time, kissing her at the sink and then going out the back door to check some fences, favoring his right leg, which had been injured in some long ago rodeo accident.

“Rowdy, oh, Rowdy…” She was crying, the tears streaming down her cheeks. She tasted them, salty, on her tongue. And she must have said Rowdy’s name out loud, because Gabe turned around in the front seat.

“Mary. It’s okay. Almost there…”

She dashed the tears away and tried to sit up straight. “No problem. Really. I’m doing fine back here.” Another contraction struck. Gabe turned back to the road and Mary concentrated on riding out the pain.

After the time he turned around and saw the tears running down Mary’s face as she cried for her lost husband, Gabe kept his eyes on the road. He figured if there was an emergency going on in the backseat, she would let him know.

Otherwise, better to give the poor woman a little privacy. It had to be hard to have a baby without your husband. He guessed. It wasn’t the kind of thing he knew much about. Not being a woman, in the first place—and being a total bachelor, in the second. Gabe just didn’t see the point of marriage and settling down with one woman. Well, for other guys, sure. But not for him. He liked women and they liked him. And he was real fond of variety. He never hung around one woman all that long. He enjoyed his freedom and he liked to keep his options open.

Behind him, Mary moaned in agony. And Gabe stopped thinking about how much he enjoyed being single and concentrated on getting to the hospital fast.

The ride seemed interminable, but it really wasn’t that long. Nine minutes after leaving Mary’s place behind, he was pulling into the turnaround in front of Wulf City Memorial, under a wide porte cochere. They had a wheelchair waiting in the vestibule behind the first set of glass doors. An orderly wheeled it out, another orderly at his side.

Gabe helped Mary out of the car and the orderlies settled her into the chair.

“Thank you,” she told him, hooking her purse over her shoulder. “Thank you so much…” And one of the orderlies turned the chair around and wheeled her through the doors. The other followed, with the suitcase and the red diaper bag.

Gabe knew it was time to leave her. He’d done what he could for her. No one was going to fault him if he got back behind the wheel and got the hell out of there.

He could stop by her house in a couple of days. Mentally, he catalogued the contents of the briefcase he’d left under her table: nothing in there he couldn’t do without for forty-eight hours. Everything on the laptop was on his computer at the office and most of it was on his Black-Berry, too. It would be perfect. He could visit after she got home from the hospital, see how she was doing, give her the towels that were still in the backseat, pick up the briefcase, admire her new baby. And continue with his campaign to get her to sell the Lazy H.

His BlackBerry vibrated again. He got it out and checked to see who it was: Carly Madison, his date of last Saturday night. They’d attended a dinner, a high-profile event to raise money for cancer research. Black tie. And then they’d gone to his place for a private party of their own…

And he couldn’t stop worrying about Mary.

He glanced up at the doors they’d wheeled her through. Somehow, it just didn’t seem right to him, to leave her alone in the hospital, without a friend or a relative to look after her.

He put the BlackBerry away unanswered and went to park his car. Five minutes later, he was pushing his way through the two sets of glass doors.