Emergency Delivery (Love Emergency)

by Samanthe Beck

  “Is she all right? Is she breathing?”

  As if responding to her mom’s question, the baby cried out—strong enough to announce she wasn’t having any trouble drawing in air. “Aw. Is that any way to say thank you? Want to go to your mama?” He placed the baby into Madison’s outstretched arms and then handed Beau a cap, a couple towels, and a stethoscope.

  He turned his attention to Madison but kept an ear out as Beau told her all about her baby’s strong, steady heartbeat and respiration, and then collected some medical history. Madison Foley, twenty-two years old, which surprised him because he’d pegged her as younger. First pregnancy, which didn’t surprise him in the least. No allergies, no known health concerns.

  The highway patrol officers fetched the gurney and retrieved Madison’s purse from the front of the Outback. In preparation for the short trip to the ambulance, Beau put the little knit cap on the bundled-up baby’s head and then held her while Hunter wrapped Madison in a blanket and lifted her onto the cot. With his arms locked around her he could feel her post-delivery shakes, and he made a mental note to put another blanket on her once they got her into the rig. As soon as he buckled her up, Beau settled the baby in her arms. Hunter took the head end of the gurney and expected to more or less disappear off her radar now, but she surprised him by angling her head until their eyes met.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what, sweetheart?” He kept his smile easy, hoping to earn one from her. “You did all the hard work.”

  No smile. Instead she looked at him with those big blue eyes. “Back in the car, when you promised we’d be okay, how did you know?”

  Beau glanced back at him from the foot of the gurney, his dark brows raised as if to say, Yeah, how did you know? Hunter shrugged. “Gotta have faith in happy endings. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

  Chapter Two

  Happy endings? If anyone had asked her to put her faith in happy endings an hour ago, Madison would have laughed her ass off. The last time she’d let herself believe in happily ever after, she’d packed her Outback and the little bit of money her grandma had left her, and followed the empty promises of a sweet-tongued, soulful-eyed Alex Pettyfer look-alike all the way from her speck-on-the-map hometown of Shallow Pond, Alabama to glamorous, fast-paced Atlanta.

  Cody Winslow turned out to be a gambling addict with a blossoming drug habit, which made happily ever after a real long shot, but, of course, the problems hadn’t become apparent until later, after he’d begged, borrowed, and stolen his way through her small inheritance, as well as any little bit of extra cash she managed to bring home from her job at the local link of a popular coffee shop chain. It had almost been a relief to tell Cody about the pregnancy and watch him run for the door.

  Unfortunately he boomeranged back every time he got himself in over his head with one of his bookies. She’d given him money a couple times, because he’d sounded scared and desperate, and, honestly, she’d wanted to get rid of him rather than find out exactly how desperate he’d become. This last time, however, when he’d stood on her doorstep all hard-eyed and twitchy, and hit her up for—ha—“a loan,” she’d refused to give him a dime. He was spiraling down at a frightening rate, her limited resources wouldn’t save him, and a temporary bailout meant delaying purchases for the baby. No way. She’d spent a whole day basking in the pride of her resolve, until she’d climbed the stairs to her apartment to find her door hanging open, the cheap lock busted.

  Instead of coming home to the car seat, baby bath, and Pack ‘n Play she’d plunked down her hard earned cash for, as well as an adorable little wardrobe of baby clothes the crew at work had given her during a surprise baby shower, she’d come home to…nothing. He’d stolen all of it, including the three hundred bucks stashed in her sock drawer.

  She’d called the cops. They’d come out, taken a report, and questioned a few neighbors, but nobody in the complex admitted to seeing anything. Nobody wanted to get involved in her drama. The bottom line was the police couldn’t put a 24/7 watch on her apartment to keep Cody out, nor would the next dinky lock the landlord installed do the job. The solution, she’d decided after a hard look at her situation, was to take herself out of the apartment. Moving stretched her thin finances past their limit, but with a little luck, she could make it work.

  Her manager at work facilitated her transfer to a new shop across town. She’d packed her meager belongings into the trunk of her Outback, emptied her bank account, and turned her apartment key over to the landlord, knowing full well she was sacrificing her last month’s rent and probably her security deposit. Heck, she might have even been harboring a small hope of a happy ending when she’d steered her car onto the I-75 on New Year’s Eve day to look for a cheap hotel near her new job to call home for the next couple weeks. Get another paycheck under her belt and then rent an apartment just in time for the baby to arrive.

  Instead she’d been rear-ended by a short-tempered guy in a minivan when the first contraction had struck with enough ferocity to make her slam on her brakes. Then she’d gone into full-blown labor and had her baby in the back seat of her piece-of-shit Outback. Fitting, considering that’s probably where her daughter had been conceived.

  Yeah, life had been a little short on happy endings just lately, but as she stared at the baby in her arms, she felt a little flame of hope flicker in her chest.

  A low voice spoke to her from what sounded like a million miles away, and she had a hard time pulling her attention from her newborn—all soft and round, with ten flawless little fingers and deep, old-soul eyes fringed with beautiful, spun-silk eyelashes. How could stupid, messed up Madison Foley have played any part in producing something so—she stared at the baby and searched for the word—so perfect?

  The low voice interrupted again, and Madison looked up to discover Hunter staring at her.

  He was almost as captivating as the baby, with his thick dark blond hair and calm-of-the-storm blue eyes. Maybe it was just the God-given shape of his lips, but a hint of a grin seemed to permanently tease the corner of his mouth. Either that, or life had let him in on some private joke.

  “Huh?”

  The grin stretched into a full-fledged smile, and even her beat-to-shit heart sighed a little at the sight. He stroked a big finger down the baby’s cheek. Thin light purple gloves covered his hands, which made it look kind of like an alien was touching her baby, but she knew the gloves protected against germs.

  “How’re you doing, Madison? You need another blanket? Pillow? Anything?”

  Despite the relaxed question, she sensed sharp scrutiny lurking in his deceptively laid-back stare. “I’m good.” At least she felt okay. Why was he asking? Maybe she wasn’t okay? She was in the back of an ambulance, after all, and now she noticed the sirens wailed. Was she the emergency? Or—her heart seized—the baby? She tried to raise herself higher in the bed and noticed the IV in her arm. Who had put that in? When? Why? “W-we are all right, right? The baby—”

  “She’s doing great,” Hunter assured her and took her hand to prevent her from picking at the tape holding her IV in place. “You, too. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

  Even as he said the words, the baby crunched up her face, parted her dainty pink lips, and let out a hiccupping cry. “Oh, God, what’d I do?” She tightened her hold on the baby, but that only provoked another, louder cry. “What’s wrong?” Her eyes sought Hunter’s, and when she saw his unfazed expression, she practically screamed at him. “Take her. Do something!”

  “Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart. Babies cry. It’s part of their charm.” He ran his fingertip down her cheek again. “A different position might help. If you’re warm enough to forego your blanket, want to try putting her chest-to-chest?”

  Madison nearly burst into tears herself. “She’s uncomfortable?”

  “She’s used to hearing your heartbeat. It’s worth a shot.”

  “Um, okay.” This was doable. If she could just… She shifted the baby to h
er right arm while she tried to fold back the blanket covering her upper body, one-handed, but the IV made it extra awkward.

  “Here.” Hunter reached over and took the fussy infant. He cradled her in one big hand and supported her head with the other. So deft and at ease. Would she ever handle her daughter as confidently? She’d been an only child, raised by her grandma. She’d spent her free time around old people, not babies. Her mommy training consisted of reading a bunch of pamphlets her obstetrician had given her, along with a coworker’s dog-eared copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. But now it suddenly occurred to her she had zero practical experience. She wasn’t at all qualified to take care of a baby. She didn’t know what the hell she was doing. The baby’s cries seemed to underscore the epiphany.

  As soon as she worked the blanket down, another horrifying realization hit. Today she’d worn one of the two extra-large maternity dresses she’d gotten at a resale shop, and it was basically a giant, button-front tent. But somewhere between the birth and the post-birth vital sign checks she’d undergone, the buttons had come undone. Her dress hung open baring an old, white bra that didn’t do much to hide her pregnancy-swollen breasts.

  She started re-buttoning her dress.

  The baby’s impatient cry had her abandoning the task. Hell, Madison, he took the front row seat while you pushed a baby and everything that came with her out into his waiting hands. He’s seen it all. She held out her arms, but he ignored them, positioned her daughter against her, and turned the little head so her ear rested against the cushion of Madison’s left breast. To her amazement, the crying stopped, mid-sob.

  Silence. A miniature hand came up to rest on the swell of her breast, and delicate eyelids lowered to blissful slits.

  “You were right,” she whispered. Though she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her resting daughter, she offered him a smile she hoped conveyed her eternal gratitude.

  His lazy laugh ruffled the hair at her temple. “I have my moments.”

  He had the most reassuring voice. Low, calm, with an underlying note of amusement, like nothing could get too serious as long as he was around. That voice, combined with the weight of her warm, vital baby against her heart, wrapped her in a cocoon of wellbeing she hadn’t experienced in…ever. Certainly not in the year since Grandma had died. She relaxed against the elevated back of the gurney and let her eyelids droop. “I’ve been a little short on moments lately.”

  “You had a pretty big one today.” He ran a hand over the baby’s head, and the edge of his finger brushed the side of her breast. She wasn’t even sure he felt it through the glove, but then he cleared his throat and said a quiet, “Sorry.”

  Her self-consciousness returned in full force. She shoved her fingers into her hair and immediately wished she hadn’t. For the most part, pregnancy had been kind to her long dark waves, but delivery had turned them into a sweaty nest of tangles. “Don’t worry about it.” She dropped her hand. “Sorry I’m such a mess.”

  He took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “You’re not. You’re brave, and strong.” The siren cut off as the ambulance pulled to a stop. “Funny,” he added and then ran a finger down her cheek, just as he’d done to the baby. “This little girl here is gonna hope she grows up to be just like her mama.”

  Before she could think of a thing to say in response, he turned away and peeled the gloves off. Then he unwrapped another small blue blanket and draped it over her chest. Beneath, the baby snuggled closer.

  “You good to go?”

  “What?”

  The double doors of the ambulance swung open, and Beau stood on the other side. “How’re our passengers, partner?”

  “Ready to roll.”

  “Okay. We’re rolling.” Beau released some latch at the foot of the stretcher, and then the whole thing seemed to levitate for a moment while they performed well-practiced maneuvers to convey the gurney from the ambulance to the sidewalk without jostling her or the baby in the slightest. An instant later Beau pulled the bed through automatic doors with the words Emergency Room stenciled across the glass. She hugged her daughter and craned her neck in every direction, trying to find Hunter. A hand squeezed her shoulder. She let out a breath. He’d simply hung back to close the ambulance doors.

  A woman in dark blue scrubs approached the gurney and directed them to a beige room with a whole lot of equipment and two empty beds. They wheeled her in. Her world spun as they turned the gurney to align with the nearest bed, and the antiseptic hospital smell hit her in the face. Her stomach rolled. That smell—indelibly associated with her grandma but not in a good way. In another series of choreographed moves, they transferred her, blankets, baby, and all, to the waiting bed.

  Beau lifted the bedrail on one side, Hunter lifted the other, and in that moment she suddenly felt trapped. Her eyes sought Hunter’s.

  “I’ll get started on the transfer of care,” Beau said.

  “Thanks.” Hunter’s attention shifted to his partner, sending some silent message, and her heart started to pound.

  Beau took a step away from the bedside. “Madison, it’s been an honor. You and this little girl closed out my year on a high note.” He gave her a smile that turned his handsome face downright breathtaking but didn’t quite reach his dark eyes. “Take care, and have a happy New Year.” He sent Hunter a meaningful look—something along the lines of a three-minute warning. Then he strode out the door.

  “Wait”—she grabbed a fistful of Hunter’s shirt in case he tried to follow his partner—“where’s he going?”

  “He’s going to talk to the people here and make sure they have all the information we can give them to provide you with the very best care. I’ll do the same before we head out.” He patted her hand and gave her the slow, easy, everything’s-going-to-be-okay smile. Except it wasn’t going to be okay. He was going to leave her. Alone. With a baby.

  “Don’t leave! What if she cries again? What if I don’t know what to do?” Somewhere in the back of her mind she recognized she was acting like a crazy nut, and he probably had other calls to take, and other people to rescue, but it didn’t make any difference. She couldn’t release her hold on him. “Can’t you stay a little longer? Please?”

  He slid his arm around her shoulders and lowered his voice. “You and this baby are going to be fine, Madison. You’re in good hands. This hospital has some of the best obstetrics and pediatrics staff in the city. They’re going to take excellent care of you both. Beyond that, there’s something else I want you to keep in mind.”

  “W-what?”

  “An hour ago you delivered this little girl in the back of a car with no epidural, no pain meds, nothing but strength, determination, and instincts. Any woman who can do that is a natural mom.”

  “I had you—”

  “You knew when to accept help,” he interjected. “That’s part of good instincts.”

  Oh, God. Oh, God. He’s going to go. She blinked rapidly to fight back the tears threatening to spill, and locked her jaw until she could be sure she wouldn’t beg. Then she forced herself to let go of his shirt.

  “Thank you.” The words weren’t much better than a whisper, but at least she got them out.

  “You’re welcome.” He eased the drape down from around her shoulder and kissed the knit cap covering her baby’s head. Her sleeping baby’s head, she noticed, and her ragged nerves calmed slightly. “What’s her name?”

  “Joy.” The immediacy of her response surprised her, because she hadn’t officially decided on the name in her own mind. She’d thought she still had three weeks to pin it down. But the rightness settled on her as soon as she said it out loud. “Joy,” she repeated, “after my grandma.”

  Warm, careful lips brushed her forehead. She looked up into the confident blue eyes that had seen her through the scariest moment of her life.

  “Beautiful name. It suits her. Have a happy New Year, Madison. You’ve earned it. I—” He broke off when his partner caught his eye from the hallwa
y. “I’ve got to go now. Everything’s going to be okay. You’ve got my word.”

  Then he was gone.

  Chapter Three

  Hunter Knox, you are one fucked-up motherfucker, spending your first New Year’s Day off in God knows how long at a hospital.

  No point talking back to the voice in his head. Arguing would only make him look even more fucked-up, in a clinical way—something best avoided in a place with a psych unit—even if coming to the hospital today probably qualified as crazy. Doubly so, considering he’d taken the same detour last night.

  He continued along the corridor toward the maternity wing. Checking on the status of the Foley girls was becoming a habit. One he needed to break, dammit, because his role in their lives had ended yesterday afternoon. Paramedics didn’t provide follow-up care. They waded into a crisis, stabilized the patient, transported if necessary, and then they walked away. On the best days, walking away felt more like sailing off into the sunset on waves of gratitude. On the worst days, it felt more like limping out of a foxhole. And yet, here he was, back at the hospital, on his own time and of his own volition, just to…whatever the fuck he was doing…make sure everything turned out okay?

  He grumbled to himself. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but picture her lying in the ER bed, looking small and overwhelmed. Stupid, because she was going to be fine, and so was the baby. This nagging worry had no basis. He’d told her they were going to be fine, and goddammit, they were. Even if he’d harbored doubts yesterday afternoon—which he hadn’t—his visit last night should have resolved them. Madison had been transferred to a room in the hospital’s maternity ward. He hadn’t gotten to talk to her because she’d been asleep when he’d peeked in. Joy had been in the nursery, getting changed and spending some quality time with the radiant heater while her mama rested.