Amanda's Child

by Rebecca York

  Overwhelmed, he lowered his gun, hardly able to believe his own eyes as the Randolph Security agent ran toward him, shouting. As he got closer, the words began to make sense.

  “We’re here to help you. We’ve been keeping current on your status. We found out about Marbella’s assault plans a few hours ago. Is Amanda with you?’’

  “No. I couldn’t take her on a fast hike through the woods,’’ Matt answered, then asked his own question. “Why didn’t you let me know you were joining the party?’’

  “We were going to call you tomorrow night, but that plan got superceded.’’

  “They surrounded the house this morning. I had to send Amanda to the bomb shelter,’’ he answered, a choked feeling clogging his throat. God, what if she hadn’t made it? What if something had gone wrong?

  He tried not to let his thoughts flash in that direction as Hunter motioned him toward the open door of the chopper.

  Matt ducked low and followed him inside. “Glad to see you,’’ he shouted above the noise of the blades.

  Sitting in the back was Miguel Valero, the doctor who was closely tied to Light Street and Randolph Security. Good idea, Matt thought.

  Jed Prentiss, who was at the controls, pitched his voice above the noise of the rotors and shouted, “Is there a good place to set down near the house?’’

  Matt laughed, then leaned forward and shouted, “I made sure there wasn’t.’’

  “Then where?’’

  “About a quarter mile before you reach the house, there’s a bare patch of rock.’’

  As the helicopter came over the ridge, someone on the ground opened fire, and Matt heard bullets pinging off the landing gear.

  Beside him, Dr. Valero swore. Matt was thinking the physician hadn’t figured on going into combat, until Dr. Valero pulled up the machine gun that had been shoved out of view, opened the window and aimed in the direction of the unfriendly fire.

  He got off several rounds before they moved out of range, swooped low and set down on the flat rocky area Matt had indicated.

  Jed cut the engine, and they all scrambled out.

  “We know there were twelve in the assault team,’’ Hunter informed Matt as they started up the hill toward the house, moving cautiously, using the trees and rocks for cover.

  “How did you pick that up?’’

  “We’ve been monitoring their communications. We would have been here before they arrived, but they suddenly moved up their timetable.’’

  They reached one of the blast sites, and Matt counted four bodies. Already, the odds were looking better, and he was pretty sure they had Amanda to thank.

  The odds improved at the next crater, where three more of the attackers had fallen.

  That left four, counting the guy who’d guarded the SUV. Or maybe fewer, depending on what else had happened in his absence.

  Still, Matt’s tension increased as they approached the house. Bracing for a hail of bullets, he crouched low and moved from rock to tree. He made the final dash across the patio in seconds and burst through the door, gun drawn. But nobody challenged him.

  Running from room to room, he called Amanda’s name, but there was no answer. The other men were searching, too, but they found no one. Stopping by the sewing machine, he picked up the pieces she’d been sewing into a baby quilt, his heart blocking his windpipe as he touched the fabric that she had handled the day before.

  Then he snapped himself out of his trance—it wasn’t helping Amanda. Looking up, he saw that the closet door was flung open. As he scanned the contents, he sucked in a sharp breath.

  “What is it?’’ Hunter asked, coming up behind him.

  “She took the pack we’d put together for when we drove to the hospital.’’

  “In case she was in labor?’’ Miguel asked.

  “Yes.’’ Matt stared at the doctor, trying to contain his panic. “But she’s only a little over eight months.’’

  “She could have gone into labor early,’’ Miguel said. “But she may only have been taking precautions,’’ he added as he read the panic on Matt’s face.

  “We have to get to her. She’s all alone down there. She needs us!’’

  “Which way?’’ Jed asked.

  Matt led them out the front door, then down the path to the shelter.

  They reached a spot where the ground was wet. Miguel stooped down, felt the dirt, then brought his fingers to his nose.

  “Amniotic fluid,’’ he said

  “Her water broke?’’ Matt asked.

  “Yes.’’

  “What does that mean?’’ Matt was afraid he already knew the answer.

  “She’s probably having contractions.’’

  “She might not be?’’

  “They might hold off for a while.’’

  Matt breathed in a little sigh, hoping that was true. Amanda was alone. In the shelter—he hoped. Maybe in pain. Certainly terrified.

  “How much time does she have if she’s in labor?’’ he managed to ask.

  “I don’t know. With a first child, it could go slowly,’’ Miguel said. “Was she having pains when you left?’’

  “She didn’t say so.’’ He stopped. “She said her back hurt. That started last night.’’

  He could see from Miguel’s face that the information wasn’t good news. “We’ve got to get her out of there.’’

  “Yes,’’ the doctor agreed.

  Picking up his pace, Matt started down the incline—and saw the scrape marks in the dirt, and the wet streaks.

  “She came down the hill sitting down,’’ he said, knowing the other men could read the trail as well as he could.

  He was about to charge around an outcropping when Hunter pulled him back, in time to avoid a stream of bullets.

  They came from the rocks above the shelter. Matt cursed as he scanned the position. Whoever was up there had the advantage.

  “Can we go around?’’ Jed asked.

  “Not unless we climb up the cliff. And he can pick us off. That’s why I rented this place. It’s a damn fortress.’’

  Matt cupped his hands around his mouth. “You up there with the machine gun. We can take you out with the helicopter.’’

  “You’re going to have to go and get it,’’ a voice called back. “And by that time, your wife is going to be dead.’’

  Chapter Seventeen

  A stab of fear pierced Matt’s throat, but he managed to get a few words out. “You’re lying.’’

  “No. I’ve got a special microphone pickup. I can hear her down there. She’s in bad trouble.’’

  This time he recognized the voice. It was Marbella.

  “Let us pass,’’ Matt shouted. “It’s over. You’ve lost.’’

  Jed had already turned and started back up the incline at a trot—going for the helicopter, Matt knew.

  “Give it up!’’ he shouted again, trying to angle himself into position to get the bastard. He was stopped by a spray of bullets.

  Cursing, he ducked back around the rock.

  “I never give up,’’ Marbella spit.

  “Even when you’ve lost?’’ Hunter asked.

  “Especially when I’ve lost! If I don’t get her and the kid, neither will you. And neither will Logan. If I have to go out, I’m going to take some satisfaction with me.’’

  Raw acid churned inside Matt, eating away at his vital organs. Amanda was only a few yards away—but she might as well be at the center of the earth. Then a surge of hope coursed through him drowning out the acid. His own transmitter might be back in the SUV. But Amanda had one.

  Dodging back several feet, he crouched low and pressed the transmit button on his walkie-talkie. “Amanda. Can you hear me?’’ he asked urgently. “Sweetheart, listen to me. Don’t waste energy answering me right now. You just have to help us out here. We’re at the entrance to the shelter. We’re coming in to get you. But Marbella is in the rocks above the entrance with a machine gun. He’s got us pinned down. We can’t get pa
st him to get in there to help you. So you need to set off the charges above the shelter. That’s buttons eight and nine. Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Can you press buttons eight and nine for me?’’

  He waited with his heart pounding. Then, unable to stand the silence, he pressed the transmission button again. “Amanda. Please. Help me. Amanda, what’s going on in there? Over.’’

  She didn’t answer, and he closed his eyes, a prayer tumbling from his lips. “Please, God, please. Help her. Help her do it.’’

  Seconds ticked by, each one a year of his life. “She’s too far gone to do it.’’ Marbella taunted from his hiding place.

  Matt tensed, ready to make a run around the boulder. But he felt Hunter’s fingers tangle in his shirt—holding him back.

  “Let me go,’’ he shouted.

  “No. He’s got a clear shot if you go out there. You won’t be doing your wife any good by getting yourself killed.’’

  In frustration, Matt jammed the transmit button again. “Amanda, for God’s sake, help me. Please. Press the buttons. Eight and nine.’’

  He had given in to despair when the sound and shock wave of a blast hit him, knocking him back into Hunter, who grunted as he was flattened against the side of the cliff.

  Debris was still raining down as Matt dashed forward. A chunk of mountainside hit his shoulder, but it didn’t stop him from leaping to the door. Frantically working the keypad, he cursed when he got the combination wrong. Then he forced himself to slow down and press the right sequence. When the lock clicked, he pushed the door open and bolted inside.

  “Amanda?’’ he called. “Amanda!’’

  The only answer was a low moan. Fear grabbed him by the throat as his eyes swept the dimly lit room and found her lying on one of the mattresses on the floor, her body rolling back and forth as she whimpered in pain. The walkie-talkie was three feet away. The controller was clutched in her hand.

  Running forward, he knelt beside her, carefully prying her fingers loose and moving the detonator out of the way—removing the danger of more explosions.

  “Sweetheart. We’re here. We’ve got you.’’

  She looked up at him, her face contorted with pain, her eyes glassy. “Did I do what you wanted?’’ she whispered, raising her hand toward him. Like a piece of deadwood, it flopped back on the mattress.

  “Yes!’’

  “The baby’s coming. I tried to push,’’ she went on, her voice so low he had to lean forward to hear. “I kept pushing, but…but…something’s wrong…’’

  Miguel came down on the other side of her. “Amanda, I’m Matt’s friend. Miguel Valero. I’m a doctor. I’m going to deliver the baby.’’

  “Thank God,’’ she breathed, relief flooding her features as she turned the responsibility over to someone else.

  Matt reached for Amanda’s hands, feeling her fingers clamp down on his so hard that he thought his bones might crack.

  He talked to her, his voice low and reassuring, telling her everything was going to be okay. Miguel knew what to do.

  From the corner of his vision, he saw the physician slipping on gloves. “I’m going to examine you now.’’

  Matt held his breath, waiting to find out what was wrong. From the expression on his friend’s face, he knew the news wasn’t good.

  When Miguel listened to Amanda’s abdomen with a stethoscope, his expression grew even more grim, and Matt felt the world contract around him. By an effort of will, he kept his own face from showing any of his fear.

  Miguel put his hand on his shoulder and drew him away.

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?’’ Matt asked urgently.

  “Yes. Bad.’’ Miguel spoke rapidly. “The baby’s in a transverse lie. There’s a foot sticking down. If we were in the hospital, I would do a cesarean section immediately. But I don’t have any anesthetic.’’

  “The helicopter,’’ Matt gasped. “We can get her to the hospital.’’

  Miguel shook his head. “That will be too late for the baby. His heart beat is slow. He’s in distress.’’

  “My God. What are you going to do?’’

  “She’s fully dilated.’’ He swallowed. “I can grab the foot and do a breech extraction. That’s not going to be any picnic for her, either. I have morphine. That’s the best I can do for her.’’

  “Do it!’’

  Miguel’s face was drawn as he cupped Matt’s shoulder again, his fingers digging into the flesh. “I may not be able to save them both,’’ he said. “If I have to choose between Amanda and the baby, what do you want me to do?’’

  Matt stared at him, hardly able to make his mind function. He’d heard stories of how the whole life of a drowning man flashed before his eyes. The same thing happened now. Only it wasn’t his whole life. It was the past few months—the precious minutes and hours he’d spent with Amanda. Falling in love with her. Watching her personality change and blossom as she outgrew the abuse of her past. Feeling the bond they’d forged strengthen every day. And his own bond with the unborn child, who had become as important to him as if he’d been the biological father.

  Choose one of them?

  The very thought made him physically ill.

  “If I can only save one of them, tell me what to do!’’ Miguel’s voice penetrated his numb state of shock.

  “Save them both,’’ Matt ordered, knowing he might be asking the impossible.

  Miguel nodded tightly, then looked around the shelter. “Let’s get her up on the table so I have room to work. Position her with her hips a little over the edge. And you can support her feet with the chairs.’’

  Matt bent over Amanda and picked her up, hearing her groan as he cradled her in his arms.

  “That hurts,’’ she gasped out.

  “I know, sweetheart. I know,’’ he told her, wishing he could take the pain into his own body. “You’ve been so brave. You only have to hold on for a little bit longer,’’ he added, hoping he was telling her the truth. “We’re getting you up where the doctor can work,’’ he explained as he laid her on the table, where Miguel had already spread a blanket.

  Miguel was at her side then, talking to her. “The baby is turned sideways inside you,’’ he said. “That’s why you can’t deliver him. I’m going to try to turn him. I’m sorry; it’s going to be painful. But I can give you morphine.’’

  “Please, don’t worry about me. Just save my baby,’’ she gasped, the plea choking off as a contraction seized her.

  “I’ll do my best,’’ Miguel said, then reached into his bag and brought out a hypodermic.

  Matt clenched his teeth, holding back the agony of fear that he knew he must not let Amanda see. He would give his heart’s blood for this woman. But all he could do was grab her hand and let her fingers dig into him again as the doctor administered the injection.

  “Hold on, sweetheart. Hold on to me. Give the pain to me,’’ he whispered, knowing his voice would break if he tried to speak any louder. And knowing that what he was offering her was not nearly enough.

  When he looked back at Miguel, he saw the doctor’s lips moving, heard low, rapid words in Spanish and knew that he was praying. Then he made the sign of the cross.

  Until that moment, Matt truly hadn’t comprehended what he was asking of his friend. Now he felt his heart leap into his throat, blocking his windpipe.

  The next few minutes were the longest of his life. He was afraid to watch what was going on, so he kept his eyes focused on Amanda’s face, wincing as her features contorted with pain. Every time she made a low, whimpering sound, he felt as if his heart were being torn from his chest.

  Please, God, help Miguel do this. Please, he silently prayed, the words running together in his mind as the endless seconds ticked by.

  When he heard a new sound, at first he didn’t understand what it was. Then he realized it was a baby’s tiny cry. When he turned and saw the perspiration on Miguel’s forehead and the look of relief on his face, Matt understood he had been present
at a miracle.

  “Is the baby all right?’’ Amanda gasped out, her words slurred from the morphine.

  “Yes. You have a daughter. She’s good,’’ he answered as he suctioned the baby’s nose and mouth. When he laid her on Amanda’s chest, she cradled the tiny body and Matt circled them both while Miguel cut and clamped the cord.

  “Bethany.’’ He whispered the name that Amanda had chosen. His sister’s name.

  “Thank you,’’ he breathed—to God, to Miguel, to Amanda.

  “We need to get both of you to the hospital,’’ Miguel said.

  “Her Apgar score?’’ Amanda asked, referring to the tests that were used to evaluate a newborn’s condition. Her words were slurred from the drug.

  “Six.’’

  Her face contorted with anxiety. “That’s not good,’’ she whispered.

  “Give her five minutes. We’ll try again,’’ Miguel said.

  Matt felt Amanda’s whole being focused on Miguel as he worked on the baby.

  Finally, he delivered his verdict. “She’s up to eight. That’s good!’’

  “Thank you, oh, thank you,’’ Amanda breathed, and Matt saw that she was at the end of her resources.

  “Just rest,’’ he whispered, watching her eyelids drift closed. He stared down into her face, relieved to see that the pain and the fear were over.

  The sound of someone clearing his throat made Matt’s head jerk up. It was Hunter, who still guarded the doorway.

  “Is everything all right?’’ he asked, his face anxious.

  “Yes,’’ Matt told him, praying that it was true.

  “Good. The rest of the invaders fled in their SUV,’’ Hunter said, then added, “Jed’s here. He can’t land, but we can lift them into the chopper.’’

  Matt nodded, grateful that his friends were doing some of the thinking for him now. He helped Miguel wrap mother and child in blankets.

  Miguel took the infant. Matt carried his wife, cradling her protectively against his chest, turning his head to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before carrying her outside.

  Minutes later they were on the way to the hospital.

  TIME WAS DISTORTED so that Matt wasn’t sure whether a million years had passed or only hours. But the clock on the wall said five o’clock, so he knew it must be early the next morning as he stood beside the bassinet gazing down at the tiny hand curled around his index finger.