Mirabella usually hated it when people-men especially-tried to take charge of her life. But instead of feeling resentful, she felt a curious melting sensation inside. Fighting against an urge to weep and sniffle, “Oh, Jimmy Joe…” like a swooning belle, instead she scowled fiercely and demanded, “What about all my stuff? All my Christmas presents are in the trunk of my car.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Bella!” her mother exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “You and that new granddaughter are all the Christmas presents your dad and I need! What is the matter with you?”
It was a question people asked her a lot, for some reason. But now it brought her even more dangerously close to tears. What was the matter with her? She should be just about the happiest woman in the world. She’d just had a baby; a beautiful, healthy baby, the baby she’d always wanted-she’d already convinced herself she’d really wanted a girl all along. So why was she still wishing for something she didn’t have? Especially when it was something she’d come to terms with long ago.
Thoroughly ashamed of herself now, she made a gallant effort to brighten up, although faking cheeriness wasn’t something she excelled at. “Thanks… ‘Preciate it,” she said grudgingly, and felt her heart bump when Jimmy Joe grinned at her use of the favorite truckers’ acknowledgment, as if it was a private joke they’d shared.
She took a deep breath and pushed herself up on the pillows. “You going to see Amy before you leave?”
His smile grew tender. “Sure am. Yeah…thought I’d stop by on the way out.”
Her world darkened, as if a cloud had drifted across the sun. “So…I guess you’re anxious to be on your way.”
“Yeah… J.J.’s waitin’ for me. Still got a load to deliver, too. You know how it is…”
“Yeah…” Her smile flickered, then went out like a snuffed candle when she met his eyes. She grabbed a desperate gulp of air and said, “You talked to J.J.?”
Jimmy Joe suddenly frowned. “Haven’t had a chance. I’m gonna call him after I get out of here, I guess. That’s if I get out-Did you know there’s a whole crowd of reporters downstairs? They tell you about that? TV, newspapers, I don’t know what all.”
He sounded so incredulous, she had to laugh. “That’s what I heard. So…I guess you’re a hero, huh? Did you talk to them?”
“Hero…” he muttered under his breath, then gave a disgusted-sounding snort. “Didn’t have much choice. They pretty much had me surrounded. Those media people sure are somethin’ else. Damn-oh, ’scuse me, ma‘am-darned if I didn’t feel ’bout like General Custer at Little Big Horn. Course…” He smiled and reached out as if he meant to touch her, and her heart skipped a beat. But he let the hand drop to his side and then made sure it stayed there by hooking the thumb in his jeans pocket. “They only talked to me because they couldn’t get at you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Me?” She tried to laugh at the absurdity of it, at the same time shrinking back against the pillows. Because having lived most of her life in a media-crazy town like Los Angeles, she knew exactly how an ordinary, unremarkable story could catch fire in the public’s imagination, especially when fueled by a hungry media trying to fill a slow news day. This story-Christmas Day, lady stranded on snowy interstate, giving birth in a truck, handsome trucker-driver hero-oh. God, it would be like manna sent from heaven!
Oh, God Everything in her cringed at the thought. How stupid she felt. How humiliating it was. To have everyone know…the people she worked with… And worse than the humiliation was the thought that the specialness of her time with Jimmy Joe, the beautiful intimacy they’d shared, might be taken away from her to become just more fodder for the newsmagazine shows.
“Oh, God,” she whispered “Oh, no…”
“Marybell, I’m afraid you are about the biggest thing to come along since Madonna had her baby,” said Jimmy Joe, smiling crookedly down at her. There was a look in her eyes she couldn’t quite fathom, a certain sadness, perhaps. Could he possibly regret the loss of what they’d had together as much as she did? Her throat filled. “The hospital’s doin’ a pretty good job of keepin’ ‘em away, so far,” he went on, “but soon as you leave here, you know they’re gonna be waitin’ to jump you. Probably be best if you just faced the music. Hold a press conference, or something, get it over with right here.”
“I’d hate that,” Mirabella snapped. She felt like a cornered animal. I don’t want to deal with this, she thought furiously. Not now. Now when I feel so vulnerable, so not myself. So alone. “I can’t do it.”
She saw her mother and Jimmy Joe exchange looks. Then he shrugged and touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers, lightly, as if brushing away tears. “Well, now…” he said in a soft, soothing tone, “you sure don’t have to, not if you don’t want to. Hey-I’ll just go talk to ’em for you, how’s that? Sure…listen, I’m gonna take care of it, don’t you worry about a thing.”
Okay, great, she thought resentfully. Now what does he think I am-a helpless wimp? Just because he saved my life, just because I needed him last night, does he now think I can’t get along without him?
“You don’t have to do that,” she muttered, shifting around against the pillows. I don’t need you, Jimmy Joe Starr. You, or anybody else. Amy and I will be just fine! She glowered first at Jimmy Joe, then at her mother. “Okay-okay. Tell the hospital I’ll talk to them. Just once, though. After I’ve had a chance to shower and wash my hair!”
“Marybell, are you sure you want to do this?” Jimmy Joe asked, bending over her, his eyes dark and concerned.
“Of course I am,” she snapped. “I’m not a child.”
“Well, okay then.” He ducked his head and planted a kiss on her forehead, then straightened and looked across at her mother. She heard her mother give a tiny gasp, quickly stifled, then a laugh that sounded both surprised and pleased.
“What?” she demanded, her paranoia prickling.
“I think I’d better be rollin’,” said Jimmy Joe in a husky voice as he leaned down to kiss her again. Not on the forehead this time, but on the lips, and with such tenderness she instantly forgot all her suspicions, forgot she’d just vowed she didn’t need him. Maybe she didn’t need him, but she wanted him. Oh, yes, she wanted him. Wanted him kissing her like this again-often-for all the rest of her life.
Then he straightened and she felt his fingers, briefly, in her hair. “I’ll stop by the nursery, see if they’ll let me say goodbye to Amy Jo. You take care a’ yourself, now, you hear? Ma’am-sure was nice meetin’ you.”
And just like that, he was gone.
Mirabella stared after him, feeling stunned…like a hollow, aching shell. I can’t believe it, she thought. He’s gone. I’m never going to see him again.
“Well,” her mother said when the door had closed silently behind him, letting her breath out in a rush of laughter. “I certainly can see why you feel about him the way you do.”
“Oh? And what is that supposed to mean?” Mirabella’s voice was light and breathy, cheery and fragile as a soap bubble.
“Oh, honey, anyone can see you’re crazy about him.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Mirabella with a snort. “Just look at him, Mom.”
Her mother’s eyebrows rose. “I did. He’s an absolute joy to look at. I also saw the way he looked at you, my dear. Those eyes…”
Mirabella rolled hers in exasperation and leaned back against the pillows. “Oh, brother. Don’t read anything into it, okay? He just has kind eyes, that’s all. And cute little dimples and a sweet, sexy smile. So what? He’s not even thirty. That’s eight years younger than I am, Mom. Eight years. So, forget it.” She sniffed and threw an arm across her eyes. “Just forget it, okay?”
There was silence for a moment, and then Ginger said with a soft laugh, “Well, all I can say is, for somebody so young, he’s awfully wise. He certainly managed to figure you out in a hurry.”
Mirabella uncovered one eye. “What are you talking about?”
Her mother was wearing that arch, Moms-know-everything look that always annoyed her so. “I’m talking about that nifty little piece of reverse psychology he just pulled on you. Boy, how did he get your number so fast? That’s what I want to know.”
“Reverse-that was no such thing!” said Mirabella hotly. “I simply-”
“Bella, he winked at me.”
“He what?”
“He winked at me-right after you’d ‘knuckled under’ to his demand for a press conference.”
“He didn’t.”
“Yes, dear, he did. He saw you crumbling like a wet cookie, and somehow he already knows you well enough to realize that the best way to get you to do something you don’t want to do is to tell you you can’t do it, or offer to do it for you.”
“Yeah, well, if he knows me so well,” Mirabella sobbed angrily, “how come he didn’t stay, huh? Tell me that!”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, the man had things to do! Besides, with all those prickles of yours, how was he supposed to know you wanted him to? Oh, my dear,” her mother said huskily, “you have so much pride. But I’ll tell you this-if you let that beautiful young man get away, you are absolutely crazy. Do you hear me? Crazy.”
And she said no more. Because like the terrific mother she was and always had been, she knew when it was time to ignore all the prickles, and simply… hug.
A nurse bustled in, strewing cheer before her like flower petals. “Oh-having a little cry, are we? We certainly know how that is! Well, I have someone here who’s going to make you feel a lot better!” She held back the door and wheeled in a tiny plastic bassinet with a practiced flourish. “Here you go-this pretty little girl wants her mama, don’t you, sweetie pie? Yes, you do…”
Mirabella sat up straight, sniffling, and wiped her eyes on her hospital gown as she searched avidly through her tears. “Oh,” she cried, laughing when she saw the tiny bundle tucked in a bright red Christmas stocking, a tiny red stockinette cap on her fuzzy pink head. “She looks just like an elf!”
“That’s just what she is,” cooed the nurse. “A li‘l ol’ Christmas elf. And she’s all nice an’ clean an’ sweet, an’ she’s even had a visit from her handsome daddy, and now she’s hungry, aren’t you, darlin’? Here you go, mama.”
And she scooped up the baby, red stocking and all. Mirabella held out her arms, and as the nurse placed her daughter into them, she wondered again in utter awe how something so tiny could rouse such enormous feelings in her.
“Oh…” she whispered, and a moment later she wasn’t even astonished to hear herself doing something she’d vowed she would never, ever do. But she was. She-intelligent, sensible, no-nonsense Mirabella-was talking baby talk. Cooing like a besotted dove. “Hi, there… How’s my widdle girl? How’s my sweetie-little-lov’ums, huh?”
Oh, it was awful. It was glorious. It was… Amy. Her baby. Her miracle.
The nurse hovered, ready to help with the breast-feeding, until she saw that Mirabella didn’t seem to need any help. She laughed and said, “Well, I see somebody’s taught you right. I’ll just leave you to it, then. Y’all just give me a buzz, now, if you need anything.” She parked the bassinet beside the bed and went away.
“Who was it?” Ginger asked softly. “Jimmy Joe?”
Mirabella nodded, her head bowed as she gazed intently at her hungrily nursing daughter. She rocked herself slowly back and forth, awash in prickles and weighed down by an ache deep. deep inside her.
“Oh, look-Bella, look! She has red hair!” her mother cried, just as a tear rolled off the end of Mirabella’s nose and dropped onto the baby’s downy head.
It took Jimmy Joe another four hours just to get out of Texas, and he was never so glad to see anything in his life as he was that Welcome to Oklahoma sign, or the smooth, dry blacktop beyond it. Something in him sure did want to put the old hammer down and not ease up until he hit Little Rock, but he knew that was just plain stupid, considering he hadn’t had much sleep in more than two days and was already running on raw nerves. So the first Motel 6 sign he saw, he pulled off. His sleeper was going to need some clean bedding before he would be able to use it again, but it was a hot shower he wanted more than anything. He didn’t stop to eat-he’d filled his belly before he’d left Amarillo, anyway-just got his rig buttoned down and himself checked in, then headed for his room, and a shower so long and hot it made his pulse pound. He didn’t even remember falling into bed.
He woke up to early-morning light pouring in through the window he’d forgotten to draw the curtain across twelve hours before. He showered again, and shaved this time, then dropped off his key and hit the road. First truck stop he came to he pulled off again, this time to fill up the Kenworth’s fuel tanks, and his own, too, while he was at it.
He thought about calling J.J. again, but decided there wasn’t much point in it, since he’d already told everybody at home he was on his way. He’d made the call from the hospital, right after he’d left Mirabella and said his goodbye to Amy Jo. The pink-pinafore lady had been real nice about letting him use a phone in one of the administrative offices, out of sight of the pack of newshounds out in the front lobby.
He remembered how he’d worried about it, thinking it was worse than getting a tooth pulled, having to explain to an eight-year-old boy why he’d broken his promise to him. He remembered the way his stomach had tied itself in knots as he’d stood there with the receiver mashed up against his ear, listening to the rings.
It was picked up on the fifth ring, and he’d had to shout to be heard over the racket in the background. And a moment later he’d heard his son’s excited voice yelling, “Dad! Hey, guess what, I saw you on TV!”
“Naw,” said Jimmy Joe. “No kiddin’?”
“No kiddin’, Dad. It’s on CNN-we all saw you. Is it true? Did you really deliver that lady’s baby? Just like on Emergency 911?”
“Well, yeah…sorta. Hey, listen, how’re you all doin’? What’s all that racket I hear? Everybody havin’ a good time?”
Before J.J. could answer, there was a click and his mother’s voice said, “Hello, son. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Mama. What’s everybody doin’? Sounds like you got a houseful, as usual.”
“Oh, yes, everybody was here for dinner. Al and Tracy left a little while ago-they had to get back, Al’s on duty tonight. Pretty much everybody else is here, though, just relaxing-you know how it is. They’ve got the football game on now, I think. The girls are still cleaning up in the kitchen…”
“Hey, Dad,” J.J. interrupted. “You know that new computer game you got me? It is so cool. Oh, yeah-and I like the remote-control truck, too, only I haven’t had a chance to play with it yet, hardly. Uncle Roy’s been playin’ with it all day, and he won’t give it back.”
Jimmy Joe was laughing when his mama said quietly, “Well, son, I guess you’ve had quite a time of it this Christmas.”
His laughter turned soft, and he took a breath and said, “Yeah, Mama, I sure have.”
“Well, you can tell us all about it when you get here. Where are you now? You headin’ home?”
“I’m ‘bout to. I got this load to drop off in Little Rock tomorrow, so it’s gonna be late-sometime the next mornin’, probably-before I get there. Don’t you wait up, now, y’hear? You can save me some of that turkey and sweet-potato pie, though.”
JJ. yelled, “We will, Dad!” while his mama was laughing in a way that told him she was probably wiping away some tears, too. Then she called out, “Hey, it’s your brother-come and wish him Merry Christmas!” And then there was so much yelling and hootin’ and hollerin’ Jimmy Joe could hardly hear himself think, so he wished everybody a Merry Christmas and said his goodbyes laughing.
When he was hanging up the phone, he found that there was a lump in his throat, and a few tears in his eyes, too. And since there wasn’t anyone around to see them, he figured this was one of those times he didn’t mind letting them fall.
After that, he hadn’t been abl
e to think about very much except how badly he wanted to be home with his family, which made it easier than he’d thought it was going to be to leave Texas and everything that had happened there behind him. What with Christmas homesickness and road conditions that required all his skill and concentration just to keep his rig on the road, he thought he managed pretty well to keep his mind from dwelling on Mirabella and her baby. But that was yesterday.
This was another day, and after a good night’s rest, it seemed like his mind just wanted to gnaw on the situation like a dog on a fresh bone. He went over everything that had happened-every minute, every word, from the first moment he’d set eyes on the lady in the silver Lexus, way back there in that New Mexico truck stop. And the conclusion he came to was that he was making way too much out of the whole thing.
It was something his son had said to him, about it being like the TV show Emergency 911, that had really pulled him up short. Shoot, it happened all the time-peopte delivering babies in taxicabs and snowstorms, saving people’s lives and all that stuff-cops, firemen, EMTs, and sometimes even plain old ordinary guys like him. It stood to reason a man might feel some sort of bond between himself and a woman whose baby he’d helped deliver, or somebody whose life he’d saved, and that she might feel grateful and tender toward him, too. Sure, that would just be natural. But did these people go around falling in love with the ones they’d helped, or getting all involved in their lives? Uh-uh. That just didn’t happen, except maybe for remembering birthdays, cards at Christmas, things like that. Mostly, though, their worlds were separate, and once all the excitement died down, everybody went back to their own world and got on with their lives. That was the way it was supposed to be.
And all for the best, too. At least that was what he told himself over and over again on that long drive home. He told himself he had J.J. to think of, a family that loved him and a trucking company to build, and that ought to be enough to keep him happy and occupied. He told himself just about the last thing he needed in his life was a headstrong and independent career woman from L.A. who hated country music and thought it was perfectly reasonable to go and have a baby without even knowing what it was like to make love with a man. It took him close to a thousand miles, but by the time he got home, he almost believed it.
One Christmas Knight Page 20