sure, that will do a lot of good, him holding my hand, helping me with my breathing. He tried to smother me once. Tell him to go away. He’s making me dizzy.”
“What do you mean if everything’s fine?” That was Will, looking for something else to worry about.
“I want to be sure the head’s coming this way, not the hooves.”
“The what?” Muffy rose up on her elbows.
“A doctor joke,” Cecily said, still struggling for calm and soothing. “I meant the feet, of course.”
A loud shriek came from Muffy. A deep moan came from Will.
“The mother is often not herself during delivery,” Cecily murmured to Will. “Don’t take it personally.”
“She is herself,” Will said. “Muffy’s a hater. Just deliver the baby, okay?”
“Righto,” Cecily said, wondering if Will’s marriage might be destined to end in divorce. Probably not. Men gravitated to bitches, confident in their ability to tame them. The worst of her lust attack was over, dimmed by the harrowing excitement of the impending birth as well as awareness of the futility of lusting after Will.
A sigh rose from deep inside her anyway. Oh, well, if she’d found Will too late to have his baby, she could sure as heck deliver it.
She didn’t have time or the equipment to do an episiotomy. But Muffy was fully dilated and the baby was crowning, Cecily noted with great relief. “Now you can push,” she told Muffy. “That’s right, push, push, almost there. Come on, you’re a trooper, you can do it—”
Simultaneously Muffy screamed at the top of her lungs and the baby came into the world with a healthy cry. “It’s a girl!” Cecily said, swiftly clamping and cutting the umbilical cord, hoping the navel would equal the bridesmaid’s in beauty and symmetry. And as the sound of sirens drowned out Muffy’s shuddering sobs of relief, Cecily added, “A beautiful little girl and a fire truck, a police car…no, three police cars and—oh, wonderful—here at last are the EMTs, just when we need them least.”
Cecily examined the baby while the paramedics gently lifted Muffy onto a stretcher and carried her toward the ambulance, ignoring the blistering she was giving them for taking so long to get there. Then Cecily handed over the child, explaining the conditions of the delivery as well as giving them a verbal checklist of what she had and hadn’t done. At long last, the ambulance doors closed and blessed silence prevailed.
Alone in the parking lot, Cecily pulled off her gloves and apron, then wiped her forehead. She hadn’t seen Will leave with Muffy, but he must have. A tear of regret dripped down her face and landed on the toe of one satin shoe, matching the splash of antiseptic on the other. Then she caught sight of another pair of shoes.
Loafers—Gucci. No socks. Her gaze traveled upward…on Will, who lay slumped against a tire.
She’d always heard this happened—new mother did fine and new father fainted—but she’d thought it was an amusing contemporary myth. Apparently not. She crouched down beside him. “Will. Will!” She grabbed his hands and began to massage his wrists with her thumbs, then took his pulse.
“What happened?” He sounded groggy, but he was apparently alive.
“The baby came.”
“Oh. Good.”
Cecily stifled an exasperated sound. “It’s a girl.”
“Mmm.”
She raised her voice. “Mother and child are doing fine.”
“I wish I were.”
She’d had it. “Look,” she said, thinking how wonderful it was not to need a verbal bedside manner in veterinary medicine, “your relationship with Muffy is none of my business, but this is one of those times you have to rise above your differences and support her. A woman who’s just given birth feels very vulnerable. She needs you now.” Cecily stood up. “So get your ass in gear. We’re going to the hospital to see her, and I mean right this second.”
She glared at him.
He stared at her.
“I’ll drive,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. “Last thing in the world I would have expected you to be, but it seems you’re a fainter.”
He didn’t look the least bit guilty about his disinterest, just puzzled. Still staring at her, he went around the car—Cecily noticed the distinctive Audi emblem—got in on the passenger side and maneuvered the seat so far back she couldn’t see his face out of the corner of her eye.
But she could feel his eyes on her and allowed herself one sidelong glance at him as she adjusted the rearview mirror. God, he was sexy. Everything about him said male, male, male. His mouth was full and enticing. His eyes were hot. Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, she pushed the key into the ignition.
He settled his sunglasses into place, hiding whatever message his eyes might have been sending, so she could let herself imagine that his gaze was an approving one, could feel it wash over her like warm honey.
Honey, but no crumpet. One look at Will and she’d fallen for him again. This time she was drippily, stickily in lust with a married man.
2
WILL SETTLED INTO THE LEATHER upholstery of his new car, wondering what the hell was going on. Cecily had miraculously dropped into his life again after many, many years, and all she seemed able to think about was his and Muffy’s relationship.
Maybe Sally had told her about Muffy. He’d never mentioned her at the stables, and for good reason. When they were growing up, he and Muffy had gotten along about as well as a Maine coon cat and a Yorkshire terrier, he being the terrier. It was one of the reasons their parents had sent him to Exeter. They’d thought it was time to get Will out from under her thumb.
It had worked, too. They were doing much better as adults. They hadn’t sunk to physical violence since they were twenty-seven or so, although Muffy had been telling the truth when she’d said he’d tried to smother her once. When they were kindergarten age, he’d put a plastic bag over her head and attempted to tie it around her throat while she was sleeping. He’d done it because she’d sneered at him and said he’d never be popular in the neighborhood because he was about as exciting as phonics. He’d felt like killing her.
Not really. A thinking man, even at that early age, he’d poked holes in the bag before he shoved it over her head. He’d just wanted to send the message, Make fun of me again and you’re toast.
Muffy hadn’t seen it that way.
When they were seven, their parents had taken them on a short car trip to the mountains of the Big Bend—a trial run, their mother had called it, to test whether or not the family could survive a major trip west the following year to see the Grand Canyon and Yosemite Park. Will still hadn’t seen the Grand Canyon or Yosemite.
Years later, they’d made a pact to get through the holidays at their parents’ house by not speaking to each other at all. Marrying Gator had softened Muffy some—at least
