insisted on moving into Gweneth her last trimester to be closer to the doctor. It had even made it possible for him to swallow his desperate disappointment when he arrived too late for the birth because someone had forgotten to call him. It had all seemed worth it when he finally held his small, precious, perfect son.
Unbidden, an arrow of longing pierced him. The boy would be almost three and a half now, walking, talking, his big green eyes full of questions—
All of sudden Jack realized what he was doing. This wasn’t going to help anyone, he thought savagely, slamming a door on the past. He could rail against fate, he could rehash history, he could sit around feeling sorry for himself indefinitely, but the end result would be the same. The child was gone, forever beyond his reach... and Tess had no one to rely on but him.
He took a calming breath and forced himself to look at the situation dispassionately. Tess’s labor had just started. Chances were, her baby wouldn’t be born for hours, possibly not even until sometime tomorrow. Hell, by the time she was actually ready to deliver, the weather might well have improved, the phone lines might be restored and he could call for help. Once he did, she would no longer be his problem.
In the meantime, all he had to do was provide shelter and a cursory moral support. As long as they both remained calm, there was no reason why they couldn’t get through this like the pair of adults they were. Unless something happened to her, he thought suddenly, as a particularly vicious gust of wind rattled the truck. For example, if she were to slip and fall...
He twisted around to grab his hat, forgetting he’d lost it, and that was when he noticed Tess’s damp boots, lying exactly were he’d tossed them earlier.
Damn, damn, domn. The little fool was out there without any shoes! His newfound calm evaporated in a flash. He shoved open his door and scrambled out of the truck. Heedless of the fact that he’d forgotten his coat, he stormed across the yard, catching up with her in a few furious strides. Ignoring her cry of surprise, he scooped her into his arms. “You just don’t learn, do you?” he shouted over the shriek of the wind.
“Learn what?” she replied, her voice muffled as she buried her face against the warmth of his thinly covered shoulder.
“To get the lay of the land before you go hightailing off.” He marched up the three wide, shallow steps and across the wraparound porch, skirting a trio of wooden rockers that swayed in the breeze as if filled with invisible occupants.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean there’s nobody here but me and you!” With a curt command to the dogs to stay down, he thrust open the back door, strode across the mudroom and opened the second door into the big country kitchen.
“What?” For the first time, she sounded uncertain. “What are you talking about? This is a big ranch. You can’t possibly...” Her voice trailed off. She cleared her throat “You can’t possibly run it by yourself.”
“The hell I can’t,” he said curdy. “I got rid of my herd a few years ago.” His voice, though hardly more than a murmur, sounded harsh and loud in the pitch-dark quiet, but at least he’d managed to state the facts with none of the furious anguish he’d felt at the time. “Now I’ve just got horses.”
Tess, still clutched in his arms, shifted. “Oh,” she said in surprise.
Her scent came up at him, delicate, mysterious, feminine. He had a sudden, vivid recollection of how it felt to lie naked with a woman, to touch her in all her soft, silky places—
What was he thinking? She was about to have a baby. Disgusted with himself, he set her on her feel “Stay here while I get a light. I don’t want you banging into something.” Despite his terse tone, he took an extra second to steady her, then strode to the big walk-in pantry, grateful for the privacy.
He halted before the shelves where the emergency supplies were kept, wondering what was the matter with him. Three years of living like a monk, and the first time he felt so much as an itch for a woman, she happened to be pregnant by somebody else.
The irony of it sent a bitter smile twisting across his lips—and cooled his treacherous hormones like a plunge into a snowbank. With an impatient jerk, he lifted down two of the half-dozen battery-operated lanterns and thumbed on the switches. There was a dim glow and then a flash as the fluorescent bulbs came on.
He walked back into the kitchen to find Tess standing rigidly, her face pale, her mouth taut with pain. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was having a contraction. He slapped the lanterns on the kitchen table with a clatter, yanked out a chair and strode to her side. “Come on,” he said gruffly. “You’d better sit down.” He slung an arm around her and tried to usher her toward the chair.
“No.” Stubbornly, she held her ground. “Standing... standing is better than sitting and this is... the pain is starting to fade.” Another few seconds passed, and then she abruptly relaxed. Her breath sighed out and she leaned against him. After a moment, she straightened. “Thanks. I’m okay now.”
Jack was damn glad somebody was. To his disgust, his heart was pounding.
He willed it to slow, watching as she took a quick look around, her eyes widening with surprise when she saw the ultra-modern kitchen with its pale birch cabinets and new appliances. An open counter was all that separated it from the family room, which was dominated by a big flagstone fireplace. The service stairs climbed the far wall, while straight ahead was the hallway that led to the living room, dining room, bathroom and den, and the more formal main staircase.
In the family room, there was a couch and a pair of overstuffed chairs atop a dark area rug, the varying gray, green and cream fabrics bled of color by the room’s deep shadows. A built-in entertainment center occupied the wall to the right of the fireplace, notable for the large empty space where the TV should have been.
Jack wondered what his guest would say if he told her he’d smashed it into a thousand pieces the night his wife announced she was leaving him.
Not that it was any of her business. “How far apart are the pains?”
“I’m not sure,” she said unsteadily. “Maybe...four minutes?”
“Four minutes?” He loosened his grip and stepped back as if she’d goosed him. “What are you talking about? I thought they just started.”
She shrugged. “Actually, my back has hurt off and on since this morning. I just didn’t realize what it was.”
So much for calling for help tomorrow. He took a hard, critical look at her midsection. Elise, though a full head shorter, had been twice that size when she delivered. “How far along are you?”
“Eight and a half months.”
Part of him relaxed; the baby should be all right. But part of him was unexpectedly furious, stunned by her irresponsibility. “What the hell were you thinking, running around the countryside when you’re this far along?” he demanded.
A wash of color rose in her chill-pinkened cheeks. “Listen, Jack. I didn’t do this just to ruin your day. And despite what you seem to think, I’m not some reckless airhead. I saw my doctor yesterday. She didn’t see anything to indicate I was about to deliver, and I didn’t expect to get caught in a blizzard. Why should I? It wasn’t predicted, and until today, this has been the mildest winter on record. How-ever—” she took a deep breath as she struggled to control her temper “—it’s also not
