are that we found you—not that this little one would have any trouble finding loving parents, but a blood relative is always our first choice. Have you come up with a name for her?”
Rachel opened her mouth, but had no answer. “No…I haven’t thought about that.”
“It may help you to know that in your sister’s things, she had a baby blanket with the name Hannah Marie embroidered in the corner. But it’s up to you.”
Rachel nodded.
“Well, then, let’s meet your niece.” Mrs. Nealey motioned for her to follow.
She looked over her shoulder at Cole.
“I’ll wait here for you,” he told her.
Rachel hoped he’d go with her, but realized she shouldn’t depend on him, especially since he was leaving soon. At this moment she was selfish enough to take what was offered. She went through the door, and after she scrubbed up, was taken into the unit where a nurse removed a bundled baby from the clear plastic incubator, and placed the infant into Rachel’s arms.
She looked down at the tiny girl with a full head of dark hair, and scrunched up face, and her breath caught. The baby yawned and opened her eyes. They were the identical color of Sarah’s, crystal-blue. Rachel took the infant’s hand and when the tiny fingers gripped hers she fell instantly in love.
“I think I’ve decided on a name for her,” she said. “Instead of Hannah Marie, I’m going with Hannah Sarah…after her mother.”
“I want to talk with the doctor,” Rachel insisted when she came out of the nursery.
“Tomorrow is soon enough,” Cole said as he led her to the elevators. “I know you want to stay with the baby, but you need rest, Rachel. When you take the newborn home, you aren’t going to get any…for a while anyway. We’ll let the doctor know where we’re staying. In the meantime let’s get something to eat.”
An hour later, after a light supper, Cole registered them at the large chain hotel across from the hospital. He carried in the overnight bags they’d thrown together for the trip. They rode the elevator to the third floor, and walked silently down the corridor.
“I’ve never stayed in a hotel before,” Rachel announced. “Father would have thought it was a waste of money.”
Cole didn’t doubt that was something Hewitt would think. “Well, this isn’t the fanciest place around, but it’s nice enough.” In his travels, he had stayed in more places like this than he wanted to remember. He inserted the key card, showing Rachel how to open the door, then ushered her inside and flipped on a light, revealing two double beds, a dresser, desk and television.
“Oh, this is nice,” she said, looking around, and peering into the small bathroom.
Cole tossed her bag on one of the beds. “You’ll be comfortable here,” he said. “I’ll be next door if you need anything.” He went to the door that connected the rooms. “Don’t hesitate to call me.” He prayed she wouldn’t. He’d already broken too many of his rules about getting involved as it was.
Rachel felt awkward, shy. Cole Parrish was practically a stranger, and yet she’d never relied on anyone as much as she had this man. And she’d never been in this kind of situation before. Here she was alone with a man in a hotel room. Not that anything was going to happen. Her face suddenly flushed at the thought. But so many things had changed in the last few days. Her life would never be the same.
“I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done,” she said. “Driving me all the way here…staying with me through…everything. I’ll pay you back…”
“No problem,” he said and opened the door. “Just get some sleep, Rachel.” Then he was gone before she could say more.
“You…too,” she whispered as the door clicked closed behind him. She looked around again. Suddenly the silence was oppressive and her feelings rushed to the surface. She collapsed on the bed and finally let go.
In his room, Cole stripped off his clothes and headed for the bathroom. He turned on the tap in the shower, and even before the temperature warmed he stepped in. He wanted the shock of the cold water to make him forget…again. Sticking his head under the spray, he fought back the memories—fought the emotions that threatened to bring him to his knees.
“Not now. I can’t,” he choked, wanting to remember the child he’d loved, but not wanting the pain that always accompanied the retrospection. But the two couldn’t be separated. He couldn’t have one without the other.
Cole quickly soaped his body and rinsed, then climbed out of the shower. After dressing in clean underwear and jeans, he walked into the bedroom. He decided some television might be a good distraction. He went to the table for the remote, and lying with his wallet and change, he found the small medallion he’d carried in his pocket for the past months. The tiny St. Christopher’s medal that was once pinned in his son’s crib, a crib that Nathan never got the chance to sleep in.
The familiar tightness constricted his chest, gripping his heart, making it hard to breathe. He welcomed the physical pain. He deserved it. He rubbed the medal between his fingers. It was a constant reminder of what he’d lost. What he could never bring back.
A faint sound drew Cole’s attention. He listened and realized it was Rachel crying in the next room. He told himself it was good she was finally letting go of her pain. He wasn’t going to invade her privacy.
Over an hour later, still unable to sleep, he’d gotten engrossed in an action movie, but not so much that he hadn’t kept an ear turned to Rachel’s room. It had been pretty quiet, and he was grateful she’d fallen asleep.
He had dozed off when he heard the murmured sounds, too loud to ignore. He got up and went to the connecting door, cracked it open and spoke her name.
No answer. He saw her lying on the bed, dressed in a white cotton nightgown that had ridden up, revealing long, gorgeous legs. Desire shot through him and he quickly dragged his gaze to her face as she tossed back and forth on the pillow, crying out. He went to her, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Rachel…” he said, but she didn’t answer. He finally reached out and touched her shoulder. She jerked up with a gasp.
“Cole,” she whispered in a husky voice. Their gazes locked and he wanted to absorb the sadness he saw in those depths.
“You were having a nightmare.”
She brushed back her long, wavy hair with a trembling hand. “Oh God, I was dreaming that Sarah came home. She was pregnant, but Father threw her out. I was running after her…begging her not to leave.” Her lips quivered as she fought for control. “Oh, Cole, I can’t believe it. She’s gone. I’d always hoped she’d come back.”
The dim light didn’t hide her anguish. “She might have. But it was Sarah’s choice, Rachel. She chose to leave and you chose to stay on the ranch. You can’t punish yourself for something you didn’t have any control over.”
She drew a shaky breath. “I wish it could have been different.”
“There are things we all wish could be different, but wishing doesn’t make it so.”
“I
