Читать книгу Betrothed for the Baby - Kathie DeNosky - Страница 9

On the drive back from her appointment with the obstetrician, Callie thought about Hunter’s visit and how foolish she’d been. The kiss they’d shared had been very nice, but it didn’t mean anything. She knew he’d been frustrated with her refusal to ground herself and he’d been just as surprised by his actions as she had. There had really been no reason for her to get so flustered and read more into it than that.

But she’d spent the rest of the night baking everything from chocolate-fudge-nut brownies to chocolate cake. And by the time she’d gone to bed, the gray light of dawn had begun to chase away the shadows of night. She shook her head. She hadn’t baked that much since she’d discovered she was pregnant.

Thinking back on that day, she could still remember walking out of her gynecologist’s office in a total state of shock. She’d always wanted children, but she’d envisioned herself happily married and anticipating the blessed event with the man she loved and who loved her in return. She wasn’t supposed to have become pregnant by a man who put social status above a meaningful relationship.

When she’d first met Craig Culbertson, he’d swept her off her feet with his charm and thoughtfulness. But it hadn’t taken long for her to discover that he wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. He’d hidden his true nature behind a winning smile and charming ways, and by the time they’d parted company, shallow, self-centered and selfish were the nicest words she could think of to describe the conceited snake.

Then, when she’d discovered she was pregnant a month after their breakup, her disillusionment with Craig had turned to abject fear. One of the deciding factors in her ending their relationship had been the sickening disgust she’d felt when he’d confided in her that at the age of nineteen he’d gotten his girlfriend pregnant and that his twelve-year-old brother was actually his son. He’d told her that once his parents had learned of the pregnancy and discovered the girl wasn’t the family’s social equal, they’d used their money, as well as their position in Houston society, to gain custody of the baby, adopt him and raise the boy as their own.

A cold chill raced through Callie. She could only imagine the devastation and powerlessness the young mother must have felt at losing all contact with her child. And that was the very reason Callie had made the decision to leave her job as an emergency room nurse at one of the Houston hospitals and take the job as flight nurse with Life Medevac.

If Craig found out about her pregnancy, she wasn’t sure he and his parents wouldn’t try to do the same thing to her that they’d done to the mother of his first child. Callie hadn’t been born into a life of wealth and privilege and therefore would no doubt be considered an undesirable candidate to raise a Culbertson heir. They’d take her to court and she’d come out the loser. She didn’t have the kind of money it would take to fight a custody battle against their high-powered lawyers.

She’d come from a middle-class single-parent home where there hadn’t been an endless supply of money, and social outings had consisted of making trips to the mall or attending a matinee at the movie theater. And even if her father hadn’t been lost at sea during a storm while working on an oil platform in the Gulf of Mexico, her social status wouldn’t have been a whole lot different.

As she steered her car onto the lane leading up to the Life Medevac hangar, she placed her hand on her rounded tummy. She might not have been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but she loved her little boy with all her heart, and no one was going to take him away from her.

Parking the car, she took a deep breath and forced herself to forget about Houston and the ruthless Culbertsons. She was about to face Hunter O’Banyon and tell him that she’d given a lot of thought to his request that she ground herself. She’d even gone so far as to discuss her physical limitations with her obstetrician, and together they’d concluded there was no reason for her to go on maternity leave for a few more months. Now all she had to do was explain that to Hunter.

“Hi, Mary Lou,” Callie said as she entered the dispatch room. “Is Hunter in his office?”

The older woman nodded. “I suspect he’s back there compiling a list of everyone’s size and the number of new flight suits he’s going to order.” She laughed. “How do you look in red?”

“We’re going to wear red flight suits?”

“That’s what he says.” Mary Lou looked thoughtful. “Come to think of it, though, our crews will be more easily identified among other emergency personnel at an accident scene.”

“It does get confusing sometimes when some of the other services wear the same shade of dark blue that we do,” Callie agreed.

“Did everything go okay at the doctor’s office?” Mary Lou asked. Since learning of Callie’s pregnancy, the woman had taken it upon herself to monitor Callie’s progress and well-being.

Smiling, Callie nodded. “The obstetrician did a sonogram and said the baby’s size is right on target for a four-and-a-half-month fetus.” She laughed. “But I doubt that I can get away with blaming my five-pound weight gain on my son.”

“No, that would be due to all those cookies you bake,” Mary Lou said, grinning.

As Callie walked down the hall to Hunter’s office, she decided that Mary Lou was right. If she didn’t stop baking, there wouldn’t be a flight suit big enough to accommodate her expanding form, whether she was pregnant or not.

Knocking on Hunter’s office door, she waited a moment before entering the office. “Do you have the time to fill me in on what took place at the staff meeting or should I come back later?”

He shook his head and pointed to the brown leather chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“Not really.” His intense green eyes held hers as she lowered herself into the oversize armchair and tried not to notice how good-looking he was or that the sound of his deep voice had caused her insides to start humming. “Before I can order the new flight suits for everyone, I need to know if you’ve given any more thought to my suggestion that you ground yourself until after your baby is born.”

“Yes, I have.” She met his questioning gaze head-on. “I even discussed your concerns with my obstetrician this morning.”

“And?”

Hunter held out little hope that she’d changed her mind, but since it had been the uppermost thing on his mind for the past two days, he had to know.

“The doctor and I both agreed that as long as I avoid heavy lifting, eat a healthy diet and get plenty of rest, there’s no reason that I can’t continue as a flight nurse on the Evac II team.”

“But—”

“But nothing.” Her determined expression warned him that she wasn’t going to budge on the issue. “I’m not only capable of doing my job, I need the money I’ll make between now and when I give birth to pay for the doctor and hospital.”

He had to concentrate hard to keep his mind off the fact that she had the prettiest violet eyes he’d ever seen. “And there’s nothing I can say to change your mind?”

“No. But as I told you the other night, if my continuing to fly bothers you that much, pair me with your best pilot. That should eliminate some of your concerns about pilot error.”

Hunter took a deep breath, then slowly released it as resignation set in. “I anticipated your decision and I’ve already made arrangements for you and Corey to be switched to Evac I.”

“That’s your team.” If the dismay on her pretty face was any indication, he’d shocked her.

Not at all happy about the situation, he nodded. “George and Mike—the Evac III pilot—are good, but I’m better.”

“Don’t you think your assumption that you’re a better pilot is a bit arrogant?” She didn’t look any happier with his decision than he was.

He shook his head. “Not in the least. It’s a matter of experience. I have more flight hours in a Bell helicopter than George and Mike combined. Until he retired from the Air Force a couple of years ago, George flew Sikorskys. And Mike flew Apaches for the Army. I’ve flown a Bell almost exclusively for the past twelve years.” He stopped short at adding that if he’d been behind the controls of a Bell the day of the accident, instead of a reconditioned military chopper given to the hurricane relief organization for aid missions, his fiancée would probably still be alive.

“When does this reassignment take place?”

“Effective immediately.” Glancing down at the list of everyone’s flight suit sizes, he asked, “What size flight suit do you think you’ll need until after you have the baby?”

As he watched her thoughtfully nibble on her lower lip, sweat popped out on his forehead. The memory of Callie’s softness and sweet taste when he’d kissed her was doing a real number on his neglected libido.

Giving him the size she thought she’d need to accommodate her advancing pregnancy, she asked, “Was there anything else discussed during the staff meeting that I should know about?”

He sat back in his desk chair. “Mary Lou served your cookies, and everyone agreed that if you ever decide to give up nursing, you should open a bakery shop.”

She gave him a half smile as she stood up. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. I only bake when I’m…” She stopped suddenly and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. What’s my new schedule?”

Hunter rose to his feet. “Instead of coming in this evening, you’ll need to be here day after tomorrow.”

“At the usual time? Or did you change that, too?”

“Six in the evening,” he said, nodding. When she turned toward the door, he said, “By the way, the other night I noticed you have a loose board on one of the porch steps. You’d better have your landlord fix it. You don’t want to run the risk of falling.”

“If I had a landlord, I’d have him take care of the repair.” She shrugged one slender shoulder. “But since I bought the place when I moved to Devil’s Fork, I guess I’ll have to buy a hammer and a few nails and see what I can do about it myself.”

For reasons he didn’t care to contemplate, he didn’t like the idea of her trying to make the repair herself. “I’ll be over this evening to fix the step.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She edged toward the door. “Upkeep is part of a homeowner’s job. I don’t think hammering a couple of nails into a board will be all that difficult.”