again. “She says I’m the father. Doesn’t that give me some rights?”
“Sure does, if you’re also the husband. Otherwise, nope. Have you told your mother?” she asked, a scolding tone in her voice that irritated him even more. He didn’t need her to tell him his mother would be upset with him.
“No. Damn it, I just found out a few minutes ago!”
“Oh.” The woman pressed her lips together. “We were all a little surprised ourselves.”
He thought about all the trips to the doctor Beth had had. “Didn’t she have prenatal care?” his voice rising in concern and anger.
“She said she did, in Buffalo.” There was doubt in Mrs. Long’s voice. Buffalo, Wyoming, wasn’t large, but it did have a bigger hospital than Franklin, their town.
“Buffalo? Why there?”
“I guess she didn’t want anyone here to know. There were a few whispers, but she wasn’t dating anyone, so we all thought she’d just gained weight. She wore loose clothing.” After another pause, she added, “You two broke up a long time ago, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe she started seeing someone else, but she put your name on the certificate.”
Fierce protectiveness wouldn’t allow him to let even the whisper of such a tale get started. “No! No, the baby’s mine.”
“Okay.”
“What’s wrong with her? I know you said it’s because she just gave birth, but I saw Beth, and she’s doing fine.”
“Miss Davenport had complications.”
“Is the baby okay? She seems small.”
“Oh, she’s a fine little darling, as sweet as can be,” Mrs. Long said, a grandmotherly smile on her face.
“Then why is Emma so pale?”
They’d reached the nurse’s desk. “She’s normally pale, I believe,” Mrs. Long said.
“Don’t give me that,” Ryan snarled. “I want to know what’s wrong.”
“You’re not her husband, Ryan. You don’t have the right to know her health status.”
“Is Steve her doctor? Did he deliver the baby?” he asked, naming an old friend, the man who’d delivered his son, the man who’d tried to save both Merilee and his child after the accident.
The elevator opened and another nurse arrived at the desk. “Sorry I’m late, Margie. Hi, Ryan. You here to see Beth’s baby? I heard she delivered today.”
“Yeah, Susan. I’ve seen him. He’s a fine boy.”
She reached over and patted his arm. “Good for you. I knew you’d come through, even if it is tough.”
He and Susan had gone to school together. If Margie Long was going off duty, he knew he’d have a better chance getting information from Susan. Maybe he could even visit Emma again.
“Don’t let this young man near room 212. She doesn’t want any visitors,” Margie said, as she bent down to get her purse. “Besides, she’s not well enough for them.”
Then she nodded to Ryan and left.
“Who’s in 212?” Susan asked.
Ryan answered, since Margie had left. “Emma Davenport.”
“Are you and Emma together again, after all this time? I thought—”
“No. But she had my baby today and Mrs. Long wouldn’t tell me anything.”
Susan was stunned by his blunt statement. “Your baby?” she asked, her voice rising.
“Yes. And I want to see Emma.”
“I can’t let you in that room. Not after Margie said not to. I’d get fired.” Susan looked over her shoulder, as if she feared Margie might be hiding around the corner.
Ryan sighed in frustration. “Okay, can you tell me why she looks like death warmed over?”
Susan pulled out the chart and scanned it quickly. “I’m not supposed to, but I could, uh, generally tell you a few things.”
Chapter Two
There hadn’t been much in Emma’s file because she hadn’t had any prenatal care records there. Steve had written a note that he’d requested information from the Buffalo facility.
Emma had reported to the nurses that she’d had gestational diabetes and high blood pressure. Plus, she’d bled too much during delivery and had had to receive a blood transfusion, which had further weakened her.
Susan couldn’t tell him anything else.
Since she again refused his request to see Emma a third time, he gave up and left the hospital—after one more peep at the tiny baby wrapped in pink.
Ryan stood on the hospital steps, staring at the town he’d lived near all his life. But suddenly, everything had changed. What was he going to do?
He couldn’t accept what had happened. He couldn’t pretend to be a happy new father…or an anxious husband. He doubted he would survive risking his heart again. Laced with his mourning for his wife and child had been utter guilt. Though he hadn’t committed a traffic violation, he’d walked away from the accident that killed them.
Many nights he’d crawled into bed wishing he wouldn’t wake up the next morning. That first night he’d slept with Emma had been the only time he’d arisen with satisfaction in his heart, contentment. Then the guilt had tripled. How could he enjoy life again when Merilee and Ryan, Jr. were lost to the world? Creature comforts shouldn’t be a part of his life. He’d chastised himself for three weeks.
Then he’d gone back to the library, unable to stay away, telling himself he and Emma would return to their old relationship, having dinner together. If, that is, she’d even speak to him.
She’d welcomed him as a friend. No questions, no complaints, no expectations. He was amazed. When he’d kissed her again, she’d opened to him. He hadn’t been able to resist.
For two months they’d made love on a regular basis. Each time he’d provided protection, having no intention of creating a child. No intention of a future. He’d condemned himself each time he thought about his behavior. So, he tried not to think, burying his conscience beneath the surface.
Until Emma had talked of a future, a family. Like a sore that had been festering beneath the skin, his conscience had erupted like a volcano, hurting Emma.
She’d already been pregnant.
That thought tore at him each time it came.
So, he still couldn’t contemplate a future. But he could
