Читать книгу Prince Charming in Dress Blues - Maureen Child - Страница 10

The night crawled on.

She’d been wrong. The baby hadn’t been as close as she’d thought. Minutes were measured in soft moans that tore at John even as he admired the woman who refused to cry out despite the pain that kept blossoming inside her. He knew it was far worse now. He saw the advancement of the pain on her face. Her features tightened, draining her of color. Her blond hair lay damp against her forehead, and those lake-blue eyes of hers were glassy with concentration and agony.

And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to help her.

Helplessness was not something he was used to feeling. Until tonight there’d never been a problem he couldn’t solve. A situation he couldn’t take charge of. As a man—a Marine—he’d prided himself on being able to handle whatever came his way. It was second nature to him to offer help. To fix whatever was broken.

But now, despite his training, despite wishing things were different, he was nothing more than a bystander. All he could do was watch as Mother Nature did what she did best.

And damned if he wasn’t humbled.

As the latest pain faded away, John watched her breathe easier, saw the tension leave her body and was probably more grateful than she for the respite.

“Oh, my,” she whispered and swallowed hard. “That was a hard one.”

He was suddenly aware that his hands were curled into tight fists. Deliberately he relaxed them and walked to her side. Picking up a damp washcloth, he wiped her forehead, smoothing her soft blond hair back and accepting her smile with all the pride he would have a medal.

“Thanks,” she said and pulled in one or two deep breaths. “This is a heck of a first impression I make, don’t you think?”

John smiled down at her. “It’s not a night I’m likely to forget.”

“Me, neither,” she assured him and rubbed one hand across the mound of her child. “But then, when this is over, I’ll have my baby.”

He watched her hand move slowly, tenderly, and not for the first time he noticed the lack of a wedding ring. Did that mean she wasn’t married? Or that her rings didn’t fit anymore? Hadn’t he heard his own mother complain about being pregnant with him and his brothers and how she hadn’t been able to wear her wedding rings for the swelling?

Probably shouldn’t say anything, he thought, but at the same time, if she was his wife, he’d be terrified at the thought of her stuck in a blizzard. Of course, if she had been his wife, she wouldn’t have been traveling alone so close to the birth of their baby.

Taking a seat beside her on the mattress, he asked, “Is there anyone who’s going to be worried about you?” And even as the words left his mouth, he thought, Oh, nice job, Paretti. Could you make her sound more alone?

She pushed herself a little higher against the pillows and shook her head. “If you mean, do I have a husband somewhere pacing the floor, the answer is no.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Pry?” she finished for him, and gave him a tired smile. “John, you undressed me and put me to bed. Before the night’s over, you’re going to deliver my baby. I don’t think a question is out of line.”

He still felt like an idiot.

“And, as I said, the answer is no,” she said in a voice pitched so low he had to strain to hear it. “No husband. No anxious father. It’s just me. And the baby.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s none of my business.”

“Probably not,” she agreed, “but don’t be sorry for me. It’s an old story, certainly not a new one. I picked a lemon in the garden of love.” Her hand on her belly paused, as if she were trying to keep the baby from hearing what she was about to say. “When he found out I was pregnant, he left.”

Okay, now he knew who the real idiot was. “Stupid of him,” he said.

Annie smiled at the compliment. “Thanks. I thought so.” Really, as “burglars” went, he was a very nice man. And she was more grateful than she could say that he was there. She didn’t even want to imagine what it would have been like to be stranded, alone and giving birth. She squirmed a bit on the bed, feeling the pad of towels John had folded and slipped beneath the sheet. She just couldn’t get comfortable, she thought, and briefly longed again for that fabulous epidural she’d heard other women talking about. Funny how this had worked out. She’d never had any intention of having a natural childbirth. Annie was a big believer in taking advantage of medical science. After all, a hundred years ago women were putting knives under the bed to “cut the pain.” Who was she to go without medication when people had worked for years to make childbirth easier, safer and pain free?

Something inside her began the slow, unmistakable tightening that by now she recognized all too well. Another contraction was coming. Her body readied for that slow climb to agony. And since there was no anesthetist around to give her a hand, she settled for something else.

“Talk to me,” she whispered as her insides tightened and her back arched as she moved into the pain.

His eyes widened. “About what?”

“Anything,” she assured him. She just wanted something else to concentrate on besides her own discomfort. “Tell me about your family. Are you married?”

He laughed shortly and shook his head. “Me? No. I figure I’ll stay single and save some poor woman a lot of headaches.”

Oh, it was a big one. She tried to ride the wave, told herself that with each pain, her baby was that much closer. Keep talking, she thought. “Scared, huh?”

John’s head jerked back, and he looked at her. “Scared? Who said anything about scared?”

Despite her distress she laughed at his offended tone, then gasped and reached for his hands. Holding on tightly, she only said, “Talk, John. Talk to me.”

“Uh,” he said, letting his gaze sweep over her before settling back on her face, “I have two brothers. They’ve both gotten married recently. Nice women,” he muttered, words tumbling out of his mouth, and she clung to each one as if it were a tiny life raft. “Can’t figure out why they’d want to be married to Nick or Sam, but, hey, I never did understand women.”

A twist of her lips was the best smile she could give him. “So few do,” she said, and panted for air. “Tell me about them. About you.”

“We’re Marines,” he said, throwing the words out quickly. “All of us.”

Not a Boy Scout after all, she told herself, but close.

“More,” she said through gritted teeth, seeing the pain as a red haze that settled over her eyes, blurring the rest of the world until only his voice kept her anchored.

“My brother Sam is stationed in South Carolina. He just married a woman named Karen. She’s a real estate agent. Nice lady. Keeps Sam hopping, I can tell you.”

Her hands tightened on his.

John spoke quickly, keeping the words flowing.

“Nick, he’s stationed here. At Camp Pendleton, like me. He’s married to Gina.” John laughed shortly, and she clung to the sound of it. “She’s Italian, too, so the two of them together get pretty loud when there’s a difference of opinion. But Nick—hell, he’s a marshmallow when it comes to her.”

Calm, deliberate, he kept talking, telling her about his family, drawing her into his life. And as he talked, she listened, getting to know him not just through his words but through the gentle touch of his hands and the quiet timbre of his voice. While the wind howled outside and her body screamed inside, her mind reached out for him and held on.

“Okay,” John told her from his position at the foot of the bed, “I think this is it.”

He’d drawn on every bit of medical training he’d ever received in the Corps to help him out during the last several hours. And, God knew, it hadn’t been much. Knowing how to tie a bandage or temporarily set a broken bone wasn’t going to get him far tonight. But at least he felt somewhat prepared for what was coming.

John only hoped he wouldn’t screw this up. Let her down. He was all she had to count on now. All the baby had to count on.

His heart ached to watch her writhing in a pain she refused to acknowledge. She was either the bravest or the stubbornest woman he’d ever known. He knew damn well she was in agony, yet she’d hardly made a peep all night. Hell, he’d seen Marines wailing over a flesh wound. But Annie had simply gritted her teeth, steeled her will and ridden the pain out.

Through it all, she’d amazed him with her courage.

And now that the payoff was here…the birth imminent…he only hoped he measured up to her.

“Get set, Annie. Next time you feel like it, you give this baby a big push into the world.”

Annie nodded, propped herself up onto her elbows, took a deep breath and clenched her jaw. Every muscle in her body tightened, preparing for battle. When an overwhelming compulsion took hold, she pushed with everything she had, concentrating on moving her baby from her womb into her waiting arms.

“’Atta girl,” John said, and she heard him as if from a distance. “Keep going, don’t stop now. It’s coming. I can see its head.”

A smile bubbled up inside her, despite the pain roaring through her body. Almost, she told herself. Almost. After all these months, the moment was finally here.

“Breathe, Annie,” he ordered, “you’ve got to breathe. Take a breath for God’s sake.”

She sucked in air, used it for ammunition and bore down again. How many times, she wondered, her mind racing at a wild speed, had she seen this scene on television? Or in the movies? Push, push, someone was always shouting, and the poor beleaguered woman always ended up crying out, “I can’t.”

Well, not Annie. She felt as though she couldn’t stop pushing. Her body had a mind of its own now. She was just along for the ride. Nature had stepped in and there was no stopping it. And as suddenly as that thought came, John called out, “Okay, ease back a little now. Stop pushing for a minute.”

“No way,” she muttered. Her eyes flew open, and she looked at him where he knelt between her up-drawn legs. No modesty left, she thought idly, not caring right now who saw her in the most humiliating position a woman could find herself in. All she wanted now was to get this baby out.

The urge to push clawed at her. “Have to,” she said between gasps for air, “have to push. Have to do it now.”

“I know, honey,” he said, his voice soft, his hands against her body gentle. Then he met her gaze and gave her a smile. “The baby’s head’s out and it’s turning, so just hold back a minute or two more. It knows what to do, all we have to do is give it time to do it.”

She blew air out in short, sharp puffs and told herself to hang on. Just another minute. And finally, when she thought she couldn’t stand it a second longer, she heard him say, “All right Annie, let’s meet this baby.”

“Thank God,” she moaned and put everything she had into one last, colossal effort to push her child from her body.

“Scream if you want to, honey,” he told her in a loud, clear voice. “No one’s around to hear you.”

She didn’t want to scream. Didn’t want to waste that much breath. But as she felt her body give and stretch and pull taut, Annie heard a high, keening wail splinter the air and it wasn’t until much later that she realized the sound had come from her.

The baby cried and Annie laughed, falling back against the pillows like a runner exhausted after a marathon.

John’s voice, so familiar, so comforting, carried above the infant’s outraged screech. “It’s a girl, Annie,” he said, pleasure and awe coloring his tone.

She looked at him and he held her baby up like a prize won in a county fair.

“She’s gorgeous,” he said. “Just like her mother.”

“A girl,” Annie crooned, lifting her arms out for the messy, squalling baby whose tiny arms and legs kicked furiously.

“Let me just clean her up a little,” he said with a wink.

So tired, Annie thought as she nodded and closed her eyes. She’d never been more tired. Or more fulfilled. She’d done it. She’d given birth and now she’d never be alone again. She had a family. A daughter.

One part of her mind listened as John moved around the room, tending to the baby, talking to her.

“You caused quite a stir, young lady,” he was saying, and the baby’s cries quieted, matching his soft tone. “Your mommy’s tired now, and I’m going to be a little busy seeing to her, so I want you to just take it easy and let her rest for a bit, all right?”

Annie chuckled under her breath. It all felt so wonderful. So…right. Yesterday she hadn’t even known this man existed. And now…oh, she thought as he came toward her and laid her brand-new baby in her arms, now she couldn’t imagine not knowing him.

As she tucked the squirming bundle of her daughter close to her side, Annie felt John’s fingers trace delicately across her forehead. She tore her gaze from the beautiful sight of her daughter’s face to look up at him.

“You’re amazing,” he said and she saw admiration and wonder in his eyes. “She’s amazing.”

Annie reached up and caught his hand with hers. Unexpected tears filled her eyes as she met his gaze and said quietly, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to—”

“No,” she said, cutting him off and staring deeply into his eyes. She wanted to tell him so much. To let him know what it had meant to her that he was there. That he was kind. And calm. And gentle. But all she could say was the same two words. “Thank you.”

He shook his head, bent down, kissed her forehead, then kissed the baby for good measure. Smiling at Annie, he said, “Annie, I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. Thank you for letting me witness a miracle.”