“All right.”
Rowena slipped into the dressing room and removed her sweater and bra, then draped the paper gown over her shoulders, awkwardly tying it at the neck in the back. Then she slid her black stretch pants off. When the gown was secure, she folded all her clothes into a neat pile and set them on the bench. Then she stepped out of the dressing room and found Alan seated on a chair.
“It’s freezing in here.” She backed up to the exam table and hoisted herself on to it, her bare feet hanging over the edge. “Of course, I’m only wearing paper.”
His gaze slid down her body to her slender bare legs. “I noticed.”
The door to the exam room opened, and her physician stepped inside. “Hello, Rowena.”
“Hi, Dr. Milburn. This is Alan Rand,” she said, motioning to him. “He’s the father of my baby.”
Dr. Milburn’s eyebrows rose. No doubt he was wondering how Rowena had tracked down her mysterious sperm donor. But he recovered nicely and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Rand. And congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Alan reached out to shake his hand. “I hope you don’t mind if I ask some questions while I’m here. This is all new to me.”
“Ask away,” Dr. Milburn replied. Then he turned to Rowena, who lay on the exam table, and gently palpated her abdomen. “So how have you been feeling, Rowena?”
“Just fine. A little more tired than usual.”
“That’s normal. Any nausea?”
“A little. Sometimes the odor of frying food bothers me. Especially greasy food.”
“You should stay away from that anyway,” Dr. Milburn replied, helping her to a sitting position.
“I’ll see to it,” Alan informed him.
She smiled at his solemn tone. Alan made it sound like she was a bomb destined to blow at any moment. No doubt she’d look like one before long.
“You mean no more French fries or mozzarella sticks?” She shook her head. “Sorry, guys, I don’t think I can do it. Those are my comfort foods.”
“As long as you eat them in moderation.” Dr. Milburn jotted a few notes in her medical chart. “Everything looks good today. We’ll schedule an ultrasound next month and take your baby’s first picture.”
“An ultrasound?” Alan asked, his brow furrowed. “Is there a problem?”
“No, ultrasound is pretty much a standard diagnostic tool. It provides a safe, noninvasive and accurate investigation of the fetus.”
“What exactly do you need to investigate?”
“Quite a few things, Mr. Rand,” Dr. Milburn replied. “The size of the baby. Placental location. The possibility of multiple births. The sex of the baby. Although that can be somewhat tricky, depending on the baby’s position in the uterus at the time of the test. Which brings up a good question. Will you two want to know the sex when we do the ultrasound?”
Alan looked at her. “Do we?”
She shook her head, wondering if he planned to stick around that long. Surely he had to go back to Toronto sometime. “I think I’d rather be surprised.”
“That’s fine.” The doctor reached for Rowena’s file. “Just be sure and tell the technologist that before the test so she doesn’t let something slip.”
“I will,” Rowena said, adjusting the paper gown around her hips.
“Now,” Dr. Milburn said with a twinkle in his green eyes, “how would you like to hear your baby’s heartbeat?”
“So soon?” Rowena asked in wonderment.
Dr. Milburn nodded as he moved to the cupboard behind him. “We use something called a Doppler. It’s a fetal stethoscope with a transducer that amplifies sound.”
Alan reached for her hand as the doctor returned to the exam table with the Doppler. He smoothed some clear gel over Rowena’s slightly rounded stomach, then slowly slid the sensitive instrument over her skin.
“There it is,” Dr. Milburn said at last. A rhythmic, amplified whoosh, whoosh, whoosh filled the air.
Alan swallowed hard as he stared at her stomach. “That’s the baby?”
She nodded, tears pricking her eyes. “It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s...incredible,” Alan breathed. Then he lifted his gaze and looked at her in a way that made her breath catch. “Thank you.”
“For what?” she asked softly.
“For letting me come here with you today.” He cleared his throat. “And for having my baby.”
Rowena blinked back her tears and tried to harden herself to the sight of a father’s love blossoming before her eyes. But it was too late.
Alan Rand had already found his way into a tiny corner of her heart.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ALAN STEERED HIS car onto the highway and headed back toward Cooper’s Corner. “I still can’t get over it. I’ve never heard anything like that before. There’s a real live person inside of you.”
She looked out her window at the passing scenery as trepidation filled her. If only she didn’t feel so torn by his enthusiasm. Sharing that moment together threw her completely off balance. She’d been so certain before that keeping this baby for herself was the right thing to do. Now she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
A light sleet began to fall, the tiny ice crystals tapping against the windshield.
Alan flipped on the wipers. “I’m concerned about your weight, though. You have to start eating more, Rowena. How about if you let me cook you supper tonight?”
She swallowed a sigh of frustration. Why did he have to be so considerate? What had happened to the old controlling Alan?
He fell in love with his baby.
She shook that thought from her mind. “You don’t have to cook for me, Alan. I plan to start eating more.”
“But you told the doctor the smell of food cooking makes you sick.”
“Only every once in a while. If I avoid frying foods, especially meat, I’ll be fine.”
“How about pizza?” he asked. “We could pick one up before we leave town. Does that sound good to you or is it too spicy?”
“It’s too much trouble,” she told him. “I was just planning to warm up some vegetable soup when I got home.”
He frowned. “That’s not going to help you gain weight. You’re already behind schedule.”
That made her smile. “I’m not behind schedule. Dr. Milburn wasn’t the least bit worried. But I promise to start eating more if it will make you feel better.”
“It will,” he assured her. “And I think you should cut back on work, too.”
“Alan,” she admonished, her amusement turning to exasperation. He was taking this father-knows-best routine a little too far. “I have steady customers. I can’t let them down.”
“I understand. My mother was a hairdresser.”
She nodded. “That’s right. The first time we met you told me you’d practically grown up in her beauty shop.”
“She shared the shop with my aunt in the basement of our home. Along with a string of steady customers for over twenty-five years.” A reminiscent smile haunted his lips. “I never had to pay for a haircut until five years ago. Mom always wanted to do it for me.”
Something in his tone made her throat tight. “You must have loved her very much.”
He nodded, his gaze fixed on the sleet-covered road in front of him. “So, have you ever thought about hiring extra help at your shop? Maybe even going into partnership with another barber?”
“I like things just the way they are,” she replied, watching the way his broad hand rested lightly on the steering wheel. His fingers were long and solid, the nails clean and blunt-tipped. For an insane moment, she wondered how they’d feel against her bare skin.
“But wouldn’t it be nice to have a backup? Someone you can call on if you’
re not feeling well?”
“I suppose,” she agreed, then grinned. “But what if I hired a hairdresser who’s even better than me? She might decide to open her own shop in Cooper’s Corner. Then I’d be guilty of training my competition.”
“Yeah, but after the baby’s born, you’ll have to quit anyway.”
She blinked at him in surprise. “Quit? Are you serious? Haven’t you ever heard of a mother working outside the home before?”
“Sure,” he replied, flipping up the windshield wipers another notch as more sleet began to fall. “But I don’t want my baby raised in a day-care center with a bunch of other kids.”
She clenched her jaw at his proprietary tone. “I’ll agree that in a picture-perfect world, it’s best if the mother can stay home with her baby. But that’s not always a choice.”
“I believe if something is important enough, then you can find a way to make it work. As a matter of fact,” he continued, “I’ve been giving some thought to this very issue. Speaking hypothetically, do you think you could be happy living in Toronto?”
She stared at him. “Why?”
“Why not? It’s a beautiful, culturally diverse city. We’ve got the Canadian Opera Company and the National Ballet. Plus the third largest theater venue in the world, after New York and London.”
“Toronto is great,” she agreed. “But my home is here. So is my business.”
“The great thing about your business,” he said, “is that you can locate anywhere. So why not Toronto? Then our baby can have both parents in the same city. You could stay with the baby during the day while I work, then I’ll take over while you work. It’s the perfect setup.”
“Since we’re speaking hypothetically,” she said, her ire rising at the way he was trying to rearrange her life like pieces on a game board, “what do you think about moving to Cooper’s Corner?”
He snorted. “With a population of less than a thousand people? As much as I like it, Cooper’s Corner is hardly the capital of the publishing world.”
“Does it need to be? With the Internet and e-mail and fax machines, technology has made it possible to work almost anywhere.”
He shook his head. “I think it makes more sense to have the baby grow up in Toronto.”
Rowena wished she could argue with him, but he was right. She had enough money from her career as a soap opera actress that she didn’t need to work. And it would be better for their baby if both parents lived in the same city. She’d been so concerned about the prospect of shuttling her child back and forth across the border that she hadn’t considered the most obvious solution.
Still, something rankled inside her that Alan assumed she’d just pick up her life at the snap of his fingers and start all over again. Leave her home. Her business. Her friends. Of course, none of those things were as important as her baby.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Alan began, his tone more conciliatory. “But if you—”
His words were cut off as a small car in the opposite lane lost control on the slick highway and crossed the center line. A scream ripped from Rowena’s throat as Alan slammed on the brakes. The Mustang spun out of control on the ice, barely missing the car in front of them.
“Hold on!” Alan shouted as their car careened off the highway and into a ditch. It stopped with a hard jolt against a steep snowbank.
For a moment, Rowena couldn’t hear anything except the thundering beat of her heart.
Alan turned to her, his hand on her shoulder, his brown eyes full of concern. “Are you all right?”
She gave him a shaky nod. “Yes, I think so. How about you?”
“I’m fine.” Then he slammed his open palm against the steering wheel. “What an idiot! He could have killed us back there.”
“He looked like a kid.” She craned her neck toward the highway. “What happened to him?”
“He didn’t even stop,” Alan replied, his nostrils flaring.
“So now what? Can we get out of here?”
“I’m about to find out.” He slipped off his seat belt and reached for the door handle. The door was blocked by the snow and only opened a few inches. He pivoted on the seat, then used both feet to pry it open before climbing out.
Cold air swirled into the car. Rowena’s lower back began to tighten, and she wondered if she’d strained it somehow in the accident. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks. They’d been so lucky. Their car could have easily collided with the other vehicle when it spun out of control, or even rolled over into the ditch.
A moment later, Alan climbed into the car and closed the door. “We’re definitely stuck. I’ll need to call a tow truck.”
A strange tightening sensation banded around her lower abdomen. She reached out to grip the armrest against the pressure.
“Rowena?” Alan looked at her, his brown eyes bright with concern. “What’s wrong?”
She swallowed hard as tendrils of panic licked at her, making it difficult to speak. “I’m not exactly sure. You’d better call an ambulance, Alan. I think something might be wrong with the baby.”
She saw her fear reflected in his eyes. Then he hastily pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his coat and punched out 911.
“Come on,” he muttered. “Come on. Answer.”
Rowena closed her eyes as Alan finally began speaking to an operator.
“We need an ambulance,” he said, his heart beating so fast he found it hard to breathe.
“Your name, please,” the operator asked, “and the nature of your emergency?”
“Alan Rand. We’ve been involved in a car accident on Highway Seven. About fifteen miles south of Williamstown. You have to hurry. There’s a pregnant woman here who needs to see a doctor immediately.”
“Is she—” The operator’s voice was cut off by a burst of static.
“What?” Alan cried. “I can’t hear you.”
The static cleared. “Is she conscious?”
“Yes.”
Rowena shifted on the seat as the strange achy cramp finally subsided. She moved slightly to see if the motion caused her further pain. “I think I’m all right now, Alan. It went away.”
He placed his palm over the mouthpiece of the phone as he turned to her. “I’m not taking any chances. You still should see a doctor.”
She wasn’t about to argue with him. Rubbing her hands up and down her coat sleeves, she suppressed a shiver. “It’s freezing in here.”
He shrugged out of his jacket as he propped the phone against his shoulder. “Please hurry,” he told the operator. “She’s barely four months pregnant.”
“Calm down, sir,” the operator calmly entreated. “And please stay on the—” Another burst of static cut off her words. Alan swore as he switched off the cell phone then tossed it aside.
“I know you’re cold,” he said, sliding closer to her and draping his jacket over her. “But we can’t turn on the heat. The exhaust pipe is buried too deep in the snowbank to risk switching on the ignition. Carbon monoxide fumes would back up into the car.”
“Please put your coat back on.” Rowena suppressed another shiver. “I don’t need it. You’ll die of pneumonia.”
“You should be so lucky,” he teased.
Another cramp tightened across her abdomen, and a low moan escaped from deep in her throat. She grabbed for his hand. “Alan, I think I’m in labor.”
“It’s too soon.”
“I know, but these must be contractions. How do I—” her voice caught as another spasm gripped her “—make them stop?”
“I don’t know.” He circled his arm around her. “The ambulance is on its way. Just hold on.”
Panic seized her. “What if it’s not here soon enough? What if...”
“Shhh,” he murmured, pulling her closer u
ntil her head lay on his shoulder. The heat of his body surrounded her like a cocoon. “Our baby is strong. You heard the heartbeat today. And he’s stubborn, too, like both of us.”
“The contraction is fading now.” She licked her dry lips, then took another deep, gulping breath. “Alan, I am so scared.”
“I know,” he said, his breath feathering through her hair. “So am I.”
It was true. Alan had never felt so helpless in his life. He was a man used to taking charge. The day he’d been diagnosed with Hodgkin’s disease, he’d gone out to research the latest treatments. He’d started a new diet and exercise program, willing himself back to health. But now all he could do was wait and hope and pray.
For the baby they both wanted so much.
He placed his hand on her sweater, gently smoothing it over her slightly swollen belly. “I never wanted to become a father this way, Rowena. I was mad as hell when I found out about the mistake at the Orr Clinic. But after hearing the heartbeat today...” His voice trailed off, then he gazed into her eyes. “I can’t imagine my life without the baby.”
“Why is this happening?” she asked, her voice choked.
“I don’t know.” He wrapped her in his arms, wishing he could take away her pain. “But I don’t think I realized how much I wanted this baby until right at this moment.”
Snow began to fall, swirling around the car. He glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes had gone by since the accident. Where the hell was that ambulance?
“Here comes another one,” she gasped.
He watched her flawless features contort with pain, and another wave of helplessness washed over him. Alan had come to Cooper’s Corner to handle this situation. But nothing could have prepared him for this. If Rowena lost the baby now... No, he wouldn’t even let himself consider that possibility.
He reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “Hang on to me, Rowena. And squeeze as hard as you want.”
She groaned in response, her eyes closed. Her fingers tightened around his hand, and Alan wished he could do more. He’d never felt so powerless in his life.
Accidental Family Page 10