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
