The long room across the front of the house resembled a makeshift infirmary. Obviously, the woman treated clients here more often than Sonya had realized.
To her right, empty couches and plastic resin chairs faced a TV set in an overstuffed living room that probably doubled as a waiting area. To her left, two cots were wedged into the dining area, where a wheeled cart held basic obstetrical equipment including medication and syringes, baby scales, plastic sheets and clean towels, and a device for reading blood pressure.
The sole patient, Gina, lay across a cot with a cold cloth on her forehead. Duke must have hidden when the bell rang, either in a hallway or via a swinging door that Sonya assumed led to the kitchen.
Mrs. Garcia gestured toward the girl. “Her blood pressure is too high. She jumps when I touch her. Must go to hospital.”
“How high’s the pressure?”
“One-forty over ninety.”
That alarmed Sonya, as did the hyperreflexivity, a sign of eclampsia. “How frequent are the contractions?”
“Four minutes.” Good. That meant delivery could still be hours away.
“Have her waters broken?” A negative response. That was good, too. “Other symptoms?”
“Headache. Also, her eyes hurt.”
“Everything’s blurry,” Gina broke in, near hysteria. “My head’s splitting. What’s wrong, Dr. Vega?”
“You have a condition related to your high blood pressure. I explained earlier that this could happen. If we don’t get you to the hospital, it could be very, very dangerous.” To Lourdes she said, “She hasn’t suffered any seizures?”
“No, no, thank the Lord.”
An angry male voice interrupted. “She’s fine.” Duke appeared in the hallway, a knife in one hand. “Deliver the baby and quit fussing.”
“She could die. I’m calling an ambulance.” Sonya took out her cell.
“Put it down!” Angry, jittery, clearly suffering from drug withdrawal, he thrust the knife toward her. It barely missed her arm.
Sonya jerked back. Unwillingly, she folded away her cell. In the throes of a drug craving, he might kill her and scarcely remember it.
“Duke, I’m scared,” Gina wailed. “My head hurts and…oh, no!” She swore mightily as a contraction hit.
Lourdes rushed to her side, giving instructions on how to breathe to distract from the pain. Sonya attached a blood-pressure cuff and took a reading.
Labor had worsened the pressure. Even in an operating room, there was a possibility the girl might suffer a stroke or other deadly complications. “You have no idea how serious her situation is.”
Duke’s lip curled. “You have no idea how serious I am, Doc.”
Sonya couldn’t stand by any longer. “If you don’t want to be involved, then leave.” Into her phone, she tapped 911. “I’m not letting my patient die to suit your ego.”
From the device, a dispatcher’s voice announced, “Police and fire emergency.”
Sonya barely had time to shout the address before the man lunged at her. Gina screamed.
Desperately, Sonya searched the medicine cart for a weapon. A cord scissors fit into her hand. Terrified, knowing the instrument was inadequate, she waved it in front of her.
In that instant, someone shoved the kitchen door outward and Duke turned in a flash. Barry! Thank God he’d come.
The thug dived forward. Barry kicked his wrist and sent the knife skittering, then tackled his opponent.
The two of them skidded across the floor. With a crunch, Duke’s head smacked the wall. As he lay dazed, Barry twisted his arms behind him.
Sonya spoke into the phone. “This is Dr. Sonya Vega. We have a medical emergency. And we need the police.” She repeated the address.
On Barry’s face, she read a mixture of dismay and understanding. He didn’t relish the prospect of dealing with law enforcement again, but someone had to take custody of Duke.
Gina gasped. Another contraction, so soon? Sonya could only pray that intervention would arrive in time.
MIDNIGHT WAS APPROACHING when Sonya finished the C-section and sent Gina to the recovery room. The young mother had pulled through surgery without difficulty and, after holding her baby for a long, joyful moment, was sleeping deeply. Baby Girl Lenox weighed a healthy seven pounds eight ounces, had good color and showed excellent reflexes.
In the maternity waiting room, Sonya explained about the night’s events to Gina’s mother and stepfather. “I hate that boy!” her mom, a fortyish woman named Alana Martin, declared when Sonya had finished.
“He’s facing charges of assault,” she assured the couple. “Gina swears she’s finished with him.”
Duke’s willingness to jeopardize her life had apparently removed the young woman’s blinders. Maybe she finally understood that he was incapable of loving anyone.
“We’ve arranged for her to stay with my sister in Oregon, if she agrees,” Alana went on. “Mary would like to adopt the baby, but even if Gina decides to keep her, she can stay as long as she wishes.”
Adopt the baby. Sonya felt a twinge of envy. Oh, how she’d love to be the one…but getting involved on a personal level with a patient would violate her professional ethics. Besides, she was in no position to adopt. Not yet.
When? asked a small inner voice.
Tonight had shifted Sonya’s priorities, she realized with a start. She’d discovered at the gut level that life might end at any moment. After she’d been held hostage, nearly kidnapped and attacked with a knife, putting her dreams on indefinite hold seemed an unbearable prospect.
She wanted…well, more than she had any reason to expect. For two years, she hadn’t let a man close in any sense, yet tonight she’d found herself drawn to a stranger.
And the way she’d isolated herself, far from family, too overworked even to think about adopting—she couldn’t go on like that. She had to start living while she had the chance.
At the moment, however, she was in no position to contemplate specifics. “Your granddaughter should be available for viewing in the nursery once the pediatrician finishes his exam. Or you can return in the morning. You must be tired.”
The stepfather stifled a yawn. After a glance at his eager wife, however, he volunteered. “We’ll stay here.”
What a good husband, especially considering he might have to work in the morning. Where did a woman find a guy like that?
“Congratulations,” Sonya added.
“We’re deeply grateful,” the fellow said.
“And
