Читать книгу Baby and The Beast - Laura Wright, Laura Wright - Страница 10

The steadfast control that Michael prided himself on threatened to snap. Bella’s water had broken and she was in labor. The phone lines had gone down sometime in the afternoon, and his long driveway was knee-deep with snow.

Everything he normally relied on was of no use to him. No cell-phone service—his satellite hookup was worthless in this type of weather—and as he’d designed his home for hibernation, he had no snow-mobile.

Which meant there was no way to get her into town.

What they did have, however, were Bella’s pregnancy book, Michael’s encyclopedias and three backup generators.

For the first time in a long time, he had to rely on instinct, not technology, and it felt completely foreign. But he’d be damned if he was going to let Bella know that.

After several long and very tense minutes, he’d gotten her back in bed, lay several clean towels beneath her, then rounded up some cool water, hot water, scissors, string, washcloths, more clean towels and sheets. He read as much as he could between her contractions. And when the pain gripped her, and she cried out, he tried to comfort her. Never letting her know that the sight and sound of her labor shook him to his very core.

He was lighting a fire when her soft voice broke through his thoughts. “Michael?”

He crossed to the bed and knelt down beside her.

“There’s no way to get me to the hospital, right?” she said, her eyes filled with unease.

“No. I’m sorry.”

She turned away from him then. Her jaw was set, her eyes glazed as she looked straight ahead, apparently concentrating. On what, he wasn’t sure. But he wasn’t going to ask any stupid questions.

“Can I get you anything? Ice chips? Juice?”

She shook her head. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Dammit, he had to pull this off, had to keep her safe.

Her eyes suddenly shut, and her hands fisted the sheet. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead, and she gave a cry of agony that made him want to put his fist through a wall, feel a little of the pain she was feeling.

But instead, he did the practical thing. He rinsed out a washcloth and wiped her face and neck, whispering words of encouragement, assuring her that everything would be all right.

Finally she released an enormous breath and her head dropped to one side.

“How are you feeling?” It was one of those stupid questions he hadn’t wanted to utter, but his worry superseded good sense.

She turned to look at him, her eyes large and heavy with fatigue. “Like someone’s trying to drive a truck through my abdomen.”

He smiled at her and she put on a brave smile of her own.

She was something else.

Back in the boys’ home, he’d seen many kids get hurt, sometimes staffers too. Hell, the gardener had practically sliced off his finger cleaning the lawn mower. The man had cried for three hours.

And Bella was actually making jokes, fighting through every bolt of pain with all she had.

“I have to tell you something.” She reached for his hand, and he grabbed hold.

“What is it?”

“I’m really scared, Michael.”

Without thinking, he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it lightly. “I know.”

“The baby’s a month early.”

“The baby is going to be perfect.” Never in his life had he felt so humbled—or so helpless. “We’re going to do this together. Okay?”

“Okay.” Her eyes drifted closed and her breathing slowed. “Distract me. Tell me something.”

“Anything.”

“Tell me about that day.”

“What day, Bella?”

“When…when you first came to town. When you came to Fielding.” She squeezed his hand. “The day you left that horrible place.”

Michael hesitated. He’d disclosed the practicalities of his past to Bella and her father, but the details had been off-limits to everyone, including himself. The nightmare of the night he’d run away and the salvation he’d run to was something he’d vowed never to revisit. But right now, for Bella, he knew he’d recall both. He’d do anything to ease her mind and her fears.

His throat was dry as dust as he spoke. “I left Youngstown School at two o’clock on a Monday morning with fifty cents in my pocket and only the clothes on my back. I walked for about fifteen miles until I was too tired to go on. So I sat on the side of the road with my thumb out and waited.”

Michael glanced down at her, saw that she was a little more relaxed than she’d been a moment ago and continued. “It was summer and hot—I’d sweated right through my T-shirt. And I remember being surprised that someone had actually stopped to pick me up.”

Bella smiled and said softly, “With that sweaty T-shirt, I’ll bet it was a girl, right?”

He chuckled. “It was a woman in her seventies.”

“Seventy or seven—” her face tightened and she sucked in a breath “—teen?”

“Don’t talk, Bella,” he whispered. “Just breathe.”

She whimpered, writhing on the bed, clutching his hand as another contraction clamped her body. The power of it shocked him. “Everything’s all right. You’re going to be fine. You’re going to be a mother soon.”

At that, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. He felt his heart squeeze as an expression of pure pleasure radiated from her eyes.

“I can do this,” she said, biting her lip.

He nodded. “Of course you can.”

Within seconds, the storm cloud passed over her face and she let out a sigh. “So…the…woman picked you up, and…and then what?”

He wiped her face with the cool cloth. “I’d bought a bruised banana from the gas station and it was all I’d had for breakfast, so I was starving. The woman had these homemade biscuits in her air-conditioned car, and the smell nearly drove me insane. I remember she told me to take as many as I wanted.” He smiled as he began to massage her shoulder with his free hand. “I ate the whole lot and felt guilty as hell. But she said she didn’t mind.”

“Is that when you knew?” Bella whispered.

“Knew what?”

“That your luck was about to change?”

He thought about that for a moment. Luck wasn’t a word in his vocabulary—he’d never really believed in the concept of luck. But then again… “I think I knew that my luck had changed the moment I stepped foot in the Fielding dime store and those kids were calling me—” his throat almost closed “—a cripple and peg leg.”

Only the sounds of their breathing and the crackle of the fire could be heard until Bella whispered, “And then I came by with my water gun.”

Memories burned in his mind. “You sure did. Shot those boys dead center.”

A weary laugh escaped her. “They all looked like they’d just wet their pants.”

Michael smiled, remembering the look of horror on those cruel young faces—and the triumph on little Bella’s as she’d held her water pistol aloft like a .57 magnum. Maybe she was right. Was it actually possible that luck existed and that it had reached him? “That was a good day.”

“Yeah.” The look she sent him was soul-searching. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

It was as if someone had shot an arrow through his chest, jabbing his heart. Bella was counting on him to deliver this baby safely and into her arms. He wasn’t going to let her down. His life was built on conquering challenges. Tonight, he was moving from high-tech to human whether he liked it or not.

He watched as her face contorted with pain once again, then listened as she groaned and whimpered. He didn’t know much, but he did know they were getting close.

The baby was coming soon.

And he hoped to God he could make both the child and its mother proud tonight.

Night faded into dawn.

The pain was almost unimaginable, and all the control that Isabella had willed herself to possess had faded away. She felt close to collapse. But she refused to give up or give in.