“Yes.” Megan’s brow creased thoughtfully. “She looks…”
And then she paused.
Because so had Jenny. She stopped dead on the dance floor, and her eyes flew wide in agonized surprise.
“Jenny!”
Michael’s exclamation of concern drowned out the sound of the soft piano as Jenny stumbled. His strong hands, already entwined around her waist, caught her as she sagged downward. “Jen?”
“Michael, I…”
“What is it?”
She gasped. Her knees had given way beneath her, and she would have sunk to the floor if he wasn’t holding her.
“Take-take me home, Michael,” she managed to say. “Or the hospital. Please. Oh, Michael, I think the baby’s coming.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
T HE BABY definitely was coming. The pain in her back was a rolling, crippling cramp that enveloped every inch of her being. Michael could feel the spasms run through her body as he held her. She clung to him as if she was drowning, and the couples around them stopped dancing and stared in concern. Michael knelt with her as she doubled over, and his face was tight with panic.
“Jenny, love…”
“Hey, Jenny, what’s happening?” Michael glanced up as someone called from across the room, and his shoulders sagged in relief as he saw who it was. Abby. Of course. Abby, Megan’s daughter, was Maitland Maternity’s chief obstetrician. So many of the hospital staff were family. If Jenny was in labor, she had half the staff of Maitland Maternity right here.
Abby had left her husband and was crossing swiftly to stoop beside the pair on the floor. “Hey, Jenny, let’s not panic here,” she said, kneeling. “Is this your first contraction?”
“I don’t-I don’t think so,” Jenny whispered. The pain had eased, leaving her room to think. “Maybe not. I mean, I thought contractions were like stomach cramps, but I’ve been having back pains all afternoon and they’ve been getting worse. This one…it was the same but different. Much worse, and it sort of slammed around the front.”
“That sounds like a contraction to me,” Abby said cheerfully. “And a good one. How far apart would these back pains be?” She took Jenny’s wrist between her fingers, found the pulse and flicked a glance at her watch.
“Um, two minutes maybe.”
“Two minutes! Wow! That’s terrific!” Abby’s voice oozed confidence and reassurance. “If that’s true, then you’ll have danced your way through most of the first stage of labor.” She grinned. “Okay, everyone, let’s clear a path. Michael, we’ll carry Jenny to a bedroom to give us a bit of privacy. We seem to be about to have a baby.” She glanced at her husband. “Kyle, you want to call for an ambulance, honey? I don’t want to risk a back-seat delivery here.”
But Kyle was looking through the French windows to the gardens. The unseasonably warm evening had disappeared completely. Rain was lashing against the glass in torrents, and while he watched, lightning flashed. Thunder followed about a millisecond later.
“The storm’s right overhead,” Kyle said, and looked around the room, assessing. Counting heads. “It’s a storm and a half. There’ll be flash flooding, and the roads will be unsafe.” He nodded as he took stock of who was present. “You know, given the guest list here, staying put might be the wisest option.”
“Hey, we’re going to the hospital,” Michael said, startled. He hadn’t taken his eyes from Jenny’s white face, and his hands were gripping his wife hard. In turn, she was clinging to him as if fearful of being swept away.
“There are no problems, are there, Abby?” Kyle asked smoothly. He wasn’t a CEO for nothing. Sensible decisions were what he was paid for.
“Nope.” Abby shook her head. “I’ll need to examine Jenny to be sure, but it seems a nice normal labor. A healthy boy being born at term to a healthy mom.”
“This baby is not being born at term,” Jenny said through gritted teeth. “He’s not due till next week.”
“You want to tell him that?” Abby grinned again, and then paused in concern as she saw another contraction hit. She glanced again at her watch. “Remember your breathing, Jenny. Just breathe through it. That’s less than a minute apart. Lord, we’re moving right along here.” She glanced up, searching for Megan in the sea of concerned family faces. “Mom, can we have a bed?”
“And hot water and towels and whatever else you need. Of course, dear. Oh, Jenny.” Megan knelt, too-half the world, it seemed, was gathered in Megan’s drawing room watching Jenny’s contractions. Megan waited until this one passed, then smiled reassuringly into Jenny’s fearful face.
“Aunt Megan, I’m so sorry.” It was all she could manage.
“Nonsense, child,” Megan said firmly. “Anna said we should have a party finale. We were planning fireworks until we were washed out, but a baby…what a magical end to an evening!”
“We haven’t got the facilities,” Michael snapped. Damn, they were being frivolous, and this was his Jenny. He wanted a brightly lit hospital room and every piece of chrome equipment known to man, along with incubators and anesthetics and intravenous drips and…
“Hey, Mike.” Kyle’s hand was on his shoulder, giving him strength. “We have Abby, who’s the best obstetrician in Austin, bar none. Our car is set up like a mobile labor room-what Abby doesn’t have in the trunk hasn’t been invented. Ford Carrington’s right here behind me, and don’t tell me you’re doubting his pediatric credentials. Katie’s with him, and she has midwife qualifications as well as her pediatric training. If there are any problems, we’ll call an ambulance and risk the storm. So…pick up your wife and take her where Megan shows you. We’re all with you every inch of the way.”
And then Kyle smiled at Jenny’s white face. “Mrs. Lord, welcome to Maitland Maternity Clinic-the Megan Maitland Annex.”
W E’RE ALL WITH YOU …
They certainly were. For Jenny, the next two hours passed in a blur, but what she remembered of her labor was a sea of family. Michael’s family? No. For now, they were her family. One by one, they came in and sat with Michael, who didn’t leave her side for a minute. They told her she was doing great, that they loved her and she looked terrific, and Michael looked paler than she did.
Lana. Shelby. Megan and Ellie. Garrett. Camille. The piano player started up again, and the party went on in slow mode. Waiting mode. No one was risking driving home in this rain, or maybe they all wanted to stay for Megan’s finale.
Or for Jenny and Michael’s finale.
“You’re doing great, Jenny,” Abby told her. “He’ll be here soon. Real soon. Push just as hard as you want to, honey. This boy of yours is coming through like a locomotive.”
And push she did, though it was like biting down on a sore tooth, or worse, and she really wanted to cry out in pain-maybe she did cry. But the faces around her told her it didn’t matter one bit if she hollered the place down, and Michael’s hands held her all the while.
Every inch of the way.
And finally…
“He’s crowning,” Abby said jubilantly. “I can see him, Jenny. The top of his head’s coming through. Let’s get Ford in here, because soon we’ll have a new little person to check over. Okay, ease back, Jenny. Now, once again- Push!”
“I can’t. I can’t. Oh…”
She felt him come. She felt her son move within her, and Michael’s arms slipped around her shoulders and lifted her so she could see her tiny, blue-white baby come slithering out into the world into Abby’s waiting arms.
“He’s…he’s…” She could scarcely believe what she was seeing.
“He’s just perfect,” Abby said, clearing the tiny airway and turning the baby over in her arms. There was a moment of absolute silence, and then Jenny’s baby son opened his eyes. He stared up and took one long look, then opened his mouth and hollered!
The piano player stopped as if he’d been struck. There was a hush outside the room. Then the new arrival opened his mouth for his second earthly yell, and was joined by laughter and appla
use filtering in from the room beyond. The Maitlands and the Lords were welcoming another baby into the family clan.
Ford was running an expert eye over the lusty infant, nodding and smiling his approval. He passed the baby to Katie, who wrapped him in the receiving blanket and placed the tiny baby into his mother’s waiting arms.
Jenny’s eyes welled with tears as she looked into her son’s face.
“Oh, Michael. Oh, look.” It was all she could do to speak. She pulled back the edge of the blanket with tenderness and awe, and her eyes flew to Michael.
And back to her son.
“He-he has red hair,” she stammered.
“Oh, Lord.” Megan had tiptoed into the room, unable to stay outside a moment longer. She crossed to look at the silent infant, cradled in his mother’s arms. “That’s just the shade of the triplets’ hair when they were tiny,” she breathed, stunned. “Just that shade. He’ll have hair just like his daddy’s.”
“But…” Abby paused.
“I’m not his daddy,” Michael said, but his eyes didn’t leave the baby for an instant. “Your husband must have had red hair, Jen.”
“My late-husband had blond hair,” Jenny whispered. Her eyes flew to Michael and held. “My now-husband has red hair. Michael, you’ve been so good to me. Maybe this is God’s way of saying he’s your son, too.”
“No…”
But she wasn’t listening. “Michael, he’s as much your son as Peter’s. More. You’ve protected us and cared for us and…” Her voice broke, and she lay back on her pillows, overcome.
Katie smiled and moved to take the little one from Jenny’s arms. “Let his daddy hold him,” she suggested, and before Michael could murmur a protest, the baby was lying cocooned in his arms.
He was a tiny, five-minute-old redhead. Wide eyes stared at Michael, filled with awe at this amazing new world. Wondrous eyes. Jenny’s eyes. And yet…
These eyes belonged only to this new little person, and Michael, looking at him, felt a protective urge that knocked him sideways. What had Katie said? Let his daddy hold him.
“You’re calling him Peter, aren’t you, Jenny?” Abby asked, watching Michael with a smile of satisfaction. Jenny shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks, unchecked.
“Nope. His name is Gary Richard Lord.”
“Gary Richard Lord?”
“Where did that name come from?” Katie asked.
“Richard was Peter’s father,” Jenny whispered. “Peter loved his father, and my son should have a part of his birthright. But Gary… I have a sense about Gary. I think a man called Gary Larrimore died a long time ago, and his death is the reason I’m lying in this room right now. With all my new family.”
“JENNY, we don’t even know if this Gary Larrimore had anything to do with us.”
“Yes, we do.” Jenny was almost asleep. She was snuggled into her pillows, her baby son in a makeshift crib by her side, and the world had let them be. There were only Michael and Jenny-and their tiny infant son beside them.
“You don’t know Gary Larrimore is my father,” Michael said steadily, trying not to turn and look at his-at the baby. “And even if he was…”
“He is. I can feel it.” Her eyes smiled at him with a trace of a twinkle. “Call it a mother’s intuition.” And then the twinkle faded. “And I can’t bear it,” she whispered. “The thought of your mother being pregnant all those years ago and her Gary being killed before you were born. Leaving her with a toddler, and heartbreak, and all those unfulfilled dreams. I can’t get her out of my mind, Michael. Whatever she did, wherever she is, or whatever she’s done, this is my way of saying thank-you.”
“Thank-you for what?”
“For giving me to you.”
And her eyes closed and he was left with nothing to say.
“GARY RICHARD LORD.” Garrett stared at his brother in amazement. Michael had left his wife and was in the living room. Megan had made up a bed for him next to Jenny, but he wasn’t ready for sleep yet. Garrett had sensed that, and was waiting in the darkened house when Michael emerged. The oldest Lord brother was clearly bewildered. “After…our father?”
“After some person she’s imagining was our father.”
Garrett’s eyebrows lifted. “Real or not, that’s quite a compliment.”
“It is.” Mike’s lips thinned, and he looked grim. “She’s generous through and through, my lovely Jenny. She just gives and gives.”
“So why the grim look?”
“We’re not really married.”
“Hey, I think you are,” Garrett said gently. “The way you look at her…”
“But not the way she looks at me,” Michael burst out. “Oh, she’s grateful-incredibly grateful-and I know she’s attracted, and she’d never do anything to hurt me, but as for love…” He took a fast pace around the room, then paused and stood staring out at the drenched garden. “Some aristocratic lowlife back in Britain killed that for her.”
“You mean he mistreated her?” There was caution in Garrett’s question. It was absolutely out of character for his brother to be exposing his pain the way he was now.
“Yes. No! I don’t know.” Michael was still staring outside, talking almost to himself. The events of the past few hours had shaken him to the core, and it showed. “The way I see it, he married her to frustrate his mother and he never stopped letting Jen know she was trash. As if Jen could ever be thought trash by anyone! But now…” He took a deep breath. “That little baby in there is the next Earl of Epingdale-in fact, I guess he’s that already, since his father’s dead. And before he died, Peter extracted a promise from Jenny that he’d be brought up to take over his title.”
Garrett shook his head at that. “If it means giving him up, then Jenny won’t do it. Even I can see that.”
“Of course she won’t,” Michael said grimly. “But it’s tearing her heart out. She made that promise on his deathbed, and then when it came to the crunch, she couldn’t keep it. She couldn’t abandon her baby to Gloria.”
“There’s no blame in what she’s doing.”
“She blames herself. And this child is partly Peter’s, no matter how much I want him.”
“And?” Garrett paused, but the question was already half answered. “You really want him?”
“I want him-and I want his mother-more than anything else on God’s earth,” Michael said simply. He hesitated, but his heart was exposed for all to see, and there was nothing left to do but explain. “Before Jen, I thought I’d cut myself off from everything. You know more than most that I’ve tried hard enough. But she needs me, Garrett, and she’s so darned proud. She’ll take my offer of an identity and she’ll spend the rest of her life trying to pay me back, but I don’t want payment. I want her! She must see it. She’s just filled with love, aching for love.”
“Have you told her how much you want her?” Garrett’s voice was suddenly urgent, and it made Michael blink.
“No,” he said slowly. “How can I? It’ll put more pressure on her. It’d be like insisting that if she lives with me, she has to love me, too. In her position she’ll say yes just to please me.”
“It’s not possible that she loves you?”
“Of course she loves me,” Michael exploded. “She’s so kindhearted she’d love anyone. Look, until I get rid of the ghost of this Peter, I don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting anywhere near her, and how can I get rid of a ghost?”
He paused at a sound. “What…” There was a scrambling at the French windows, and a low voice speaking urgently.
“Shh, you dumb mutt. You want to wake everyone in the house?”
“It’s Shelby,” Garrett said, his eyes creasing with laughter as he crossed to open the door. Shelby came bursting into the room, her auburn hair damp from the rain and her running shoes squelching with water. “What on earth are you doing here?” he started to ask, and then stopped dead as he saw the dog at her side, and the dog caught sight of Michael.
It was
as if Socks were drowning and Michael was the only lifeguard for miles. He launched himself at Michael, leaping right off the ground and catching his shoulders with his huge paws.
Michael was left with nowhere to go. He stood enfolded in soggy dog while Socks licked and whined and wriggled out his loneliness and frustration at being abandoned.
There was a stunned silence from Shelby and Garrett, and there was not a lot Michael could say, either.
“Mmff…” he finally managed to get out, but it didn’t make a heap of sense. Shelby grinned. She’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt, which were mud-spattered. She wiped wet hands on her jeans and looked at Michael and Socks with affection.
“What do you think he’s trying to say?” she asked Garrett, and Garrett chuckled.
“Thank you very much for bringing me my dog?” he suggested. “Yeah, that must be it.”
“Mmff…” said Michael.
“Yeah, that’s definitely it.” Garrett grinned. “Good thought, bringing him here, Shelby. You wanted to keep the family together.”
“Actually,” Shelby said carefully, “when I got home there was a message on my answering machine from Michael’s neighbors. Several messages, in fact. They’d been looking for him all over. I bet when you get home there’ll be messages on your phone, too. Seems Socks was howling the place apart. So what could a girl do…”
“But reunite brother and dog,” Garrett finished for her. “Gee, I hope Megan has a decent floor cleaner.” And then he frowned at another tap on the window. He turned, and there was Lana, signaling to be let in, her arms piled high with baby clothes and nightwear. “Lana…”
“Hey, it’s a family reunion.” Lana entered, dumped the clothes on a chair, then looked at Michael. Her face cleared. “So that’s where he is.”
“Where did you think Mike would be?”
“I meant Socks,” Lana said cheerfully. “I might have known he’d get himself here.”
“You been looking for him?” Garrett queried, and Lana gave him a grin that matched Shelby’s.
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