from that steady golden one and surprised to find himself feeling so off balance. It was the situation, not the woman, he thought. It couldn’t be the woman, because women never made him feel off balance.
“Susannah Bird. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Ad—”
Her heels were no longer dug into the earth, but braced on the edge of the seat. As he laid another section of newsprint beneath her upraised knees, her words broke off and the next moment he felt his wrist being held in an unexpectedly strong grip.
“This is it.”
The soft tones had been replaced by an effort-filled mutter. Her bent legs opened, the cherry-patterned skirt that till now had provided a tent-like decorum slipping up her thighs. Automatically he moved his gaze to her face, feeling unexpected heat mount in his own, and found himself meeting a fierce honey-gold glare.
“This isn’t no time to stand on ceremony, Tye. And if you’re the squeamish kind, I’ll thank you to leave me to handle this myself,” she ground out between cracked lips.
She was right, he thought, angry with himself. Even though he’d only met Susannah Bird moments ago, even though what she was about to go through would leave no room for modesty, it was the most basic, natural act in the world. And although there’d been a more immediate reason for his returning to New Mexico after all these years, there was no denying that in the back of his mind he’d also had the vague thought that in the place where his life had been turned around once, he might again find some kind of renewal, some kind of grounding.
Before he’d even reached his destination he’d stumbled onto the opportunity to help bring new life into the world. How much more grounded could he get?
“You don’t get rid of me as easily as that,” he said, the curtness in his voice not directed at her. “I’m no Granny Lacey, but I’m all you’ve got. I’m staying.”
Incredibly, the parched lips curved into a smile even as the harsh panting continued and her brows knitted together. For a second her grip on him slackened and he reached into the carpetbag by his feet.
Despite the climbing morning heat, the bottle of water he’d noticed was still cool. Rummaging a little deeper, he came up with a neatly-folded washcloth. Gently he ran the dampened cloth over her moisture-beaded forehead, her dry lips. Through her lashes she shot him a grateful glance.
“Feels…good,” she managed. “Baby…crowning yet, Tye?”
Crowning? What the hell was crowning? he thought in confusion, replacing the bottle’s cap with fingers that felt suddenly thick and clumsy.
Whatever it is, there’s only one place you’re going to be able to see if it’s happening, a caustic voice inside his head said. Stop warming the bench and get into the game here.
Tye hunkered down at the side of the vehicle, and not a moment too soon, he immediately realized. Crowning meant he was the first human being to lay eyes on this new little person who was emerging into the world.
“Aahh!!”
The guttural cry sounded as if it was being wrenched from Susannah’s throat. She’d propped herself up on her elbows, her head thrown back and every tendon in her neck standing out in rigid relief. She cried again, and he could see the agony etched on her contorted features.
“You’re doing fine, Suze,” he rasped, knowing as he spoke how inadequate his words were. “You’re doing great. Keep pushing, honey.”
About to check on the baby’s progress again, out of the corner of his eye he saw a large, cream-colored blur speed by. Where did that come from? he thought in sharp alarm, flicking an automatic glance at the revolver on the floor. The Cadillac receded into the distance without slowing, and he frowned.
She’d been a woman alone on the road, in an unreliable vehicle and with a baby due any time. She might have glimpsed the same car at different gas stations along the way, and out of that concocted a fearful scenario that had grown bigger in her mind with each passing mile. When she’d been at her most vulnerable he’d come along—a jeans-and-leather-clad—
His heart stopped. It started up again, crashing so hard against his ribs it felt as if it was trying to escape.
“His head’s out, Suze,” he said hoarsely. Without conscious thought, he put a swift hand beneath the small skull to support it, just as he heard another incoherent cry issue from her throat.
When he’d been fifteen he’d broken his leg wiping out in a curve on a borrowed motorcycle without a license. During his year at the Double B Ranch he’d been thrown from Chorizo, a hammer-headed Appaloosa gelding Hawkins had expressly forbidden them to ride. Last year he’d taken a bullet in the ribs.
He’d figured he knew what endurance was. But he was a male. He had no idea what toughing it out meant, Tye realized now.
The baby was coming out on its side. Instinctively he lowered the fragile head a fraction, and an incredibly tiny shoulder popped into view. Again acting on instinct and hoping desperately that his instincts were right, he raised his supporting hands slightly.
The bottom shoulder emerged, so suddenly that for one frantic moment his cautious hold almost slipped.
“Turn—turn him on his back,” Susannah gasped. “Bag. Swabs. His nose—”
The little sucker was slippery, Tye thought disjointedly. This was like trying to hang on to a wet football in the rain, and one-handed it was even harder. Groping around in the bag by his feet, his fingers came into contact with a package.
“Cotton swabs,” he muttered. “Touchdown.”
There was some kind of gunk in the little guy’s nose and in the tiny mouth. Presumably the gunk had to come out.
“Of course, you could be a girl,” he said under his breath. He willed his hand to stop shaking, and swabbed at the minute, perfectly-formed nostrils, the goldfish lips. “If you are, no offense, okay? But until we know for sure I’m going to think of you as a—”
“Granny Lacey, help me!”
Even as he heard Susannah’s high-pitched plea to a woman who wasn’t there, Tye felt the small body slide completely into his hands, and frantically he adjusted his hold on—on him, he thought, feeling a grin spreading across his features. It was a boy. They’d had a boy!
“He looks just like me,” he said stupidly. “Just like me, Suze.” He met her pain-sheened gaze, unable to stop smiling despite the moisture he could feel prickling at the back of his eyes. “I mean he’s a boy,” he amended. “We—you’ve got a brand-new baby boy.”
“Is he breathing okay, Tye?” Concern overrode the fatigue in her tone. “Rub his back.”
Apparently it wasn’t like the movies. You didn’t introduce them to the world with a hearty slap on the rump. With infinite care he rubbed the little back and the crumpled lips pursed out, as if they were trying to blow a bubble. The miniscule eyelids squeezed even more tightly shut. A weak cry, more like the mew of a kitten than anything else, came from those crumpled lips.
In the space of a heartbeat—a skipped heartbeat, Tye thought shakily—the kitten-cry became an outraged squall that seemed far too big to have come from such a tiny
