Even though Mitch didn’t love her, he hadn’t deserted her, either, and that in itself gave her hope. But she was still miffed at him for keeping secrets from her when she’d been so honest with him. Somewhere there had to be a middle ground, and she had to find it—for both her own and the baby’s sake.
She didn’t want to live without Mitch in her life.
A tap on her door pulled her out of her reverie. “Yes?” she said.
Dolly stuck her head around the door. “It’s Mr. Peter. He’s downstairs.”
“Oh brother,” Lindsay said, pulling a face.
“What do you want me to tell him?”
“That I’ll be right down.”
Dolly nodded, then shut the door. Peter was not high on her priority list, either, but now was as good a time as any to speak her piece, once and for all. She had a score to settle not only with her daddy, but with Peter, as well.
Moments later, Lindsay walked into the den and faced a smiling Peter, who held a huge bouquet of flowers.
“Hello, Peter,” she said.
He stiffened, having picked up on the chill in her voice. “Still miffed at me, huh?”
She ignored his whining and asked, “What do you want?”
The bouquet slipped out of his arms onto the nearest chair. “To patch things up between us.”
“There is no ‘us.’”
He rubbed the back of his neck, then blew out his breath. “I didn’t come here to argue with you, Lindsay. These flowers are my way of saying I’m sorry.”
“You’re wasting your time and money on me. You have to know that.”
He blanched. “I won’t accept that. I still want to marry you. And under the circumstances, I think you ought to take me up on my proposal.”
“Mitch and I are married.”
That small bombshell had the desired effect. He turned visibly green. “I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t give a damn what you believe.”
“Does Cooper know?”
“Yes, he does.”
Peter clenched his jaw so tightly that Lindsay thought it might shatter.
“So now you’ll have to find another gravy train to hitch on to. This one’s no longer in operation.”
He glowered at her. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, I think you do. I overheard you and Daddy talking the other afternoon.”
He gasped. “You mean you eavesdropped.”
“Not intentionally. I just happened to be walking by when I heard my name mentioned. Naturally I was curious.”
“Naturally.”
“Look, I don’t owe you anything, Peter, except my deepest contempt.”
His features turned menacing. “Getting rid of me is not going to be that simple.”
“Don’t you dare threaten me.”
His nostrils flared. “Cooper owes me, and I aim to get what’s coming to me.”
“If you don’t leave me alone, you will get what’s coming to you, all right. From Mitch.”
He released an ugly laugh. “This was all Daddy’s idea from the get-go. In case you didn’t hear that.”
“Get out!” She gritted her teeth. “Now! And don’t ever come back.”
“I’m going, but it’s not over till the fat lady sings. And she ain’t even started yet.”
“Get out!” Lindsay cried again.
The second he sauntered through the door, Lindsay sank onto the sofa, her breathing coming in tiny spurts.
“Are you all right?”
She glanced up at Dolly, who stood in the doorway, her face wrinkled with concern.
“No, but I will be when I get over being mad as a hornet.”
Dolly sniffed. “That man’s no good.”
“You’re right, he isn’t. Contrary to what he said, we have seen the last of him.”
Dolly nodded, then shuffled off. Lindsay, however, remained on the sofa for a while longer. If only her daddy hadn’t left before dawn that morning, she would definitely have confronted him right there.
Tears stung her eyes. How could Cooper have done such a thing to her? How could he have so little respect for her? Pushing those unwanted questions aside, Lindsay got up and made her way toward the stairs, her thoughts shifting back to Mitch.
Suddenly it seemed so important that she make things right between them. He might not love her, but he cared enough to have married her.
And that was a start.
Twenty-Eight
Her stomach!
It felt godawful. Lindsay eased onto her side in the bed and curled into a fetal position, then took deep, ragged breaths. Neither remedy proved to be helpful. The nausea kept coming in waves.
She felt clammy all over, too. Maybe that was her problem, she told herself. Maybe she was hot and that was contributing to her nausea. Exerting as little effort as possible, she tossed back the top sheet.
Moments later her teeth began chattering, and she grabbed the sheet again as another wave hit her, flip-flopping her stomach.
“Ohhh,” she moaned, splaying a hand over her abdomen and massaging it. What was wrong? Since day one of her pregnancy, she’d been sick, but never like this—never so ill she couldn’t seem to function.
If only she could throw up, then maybe whatever had her in its grip would let go. She just prayed the baby was all right, that this malady that had struck her didn’t have anything to do with the pregnancy.
She squeezed her eyes shut and felt tears on her face. “Oh, dear Lord, please help me,” she whispered, even as another pain assaulted her.
Food poisoning? Could that be the culprit? She’d had it once before, and if she remembered correctly, what she was feeling now was similar to what she’d felt then. But, she couldn’t be sure. At the moment her brain was fogged up, and her mouth was devoid of saliva, so dry she couldn’t swallow.
And her belly… God, it hurt. She lifted her knees higher and tighter until they were pressed against her stomach. That gesture didn’t help curtail the growing pain and nausea, either.
Suddenly she lurched out of the bed and dashed to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet. Once there, she lost everything inside her. It was when she realized she was gagging with the dry heaves that she knew she had to get help.
The baby!
She had to think of the life growing inside her. If she didn’t stop this, she might do her and Mitch’s child irrevocable harm. Mitch. She wished he were there beside her, that he were holding her in his strong arms. A pain of another kind socked her, but this time it went straight to the heart.
A sob ripped through her, and her head spun.
Spreading one hand against the wall to steady herself, Lindsay waited for the room to settle before she took a step. Dolly. Now that she’d lost the foul contents of her stomach, she felt better. She could call for help.
Five minutes later Dolly was hovering, having placed a damp, cool rag on Lindsay’s forehead.
“As soon as I can, I’ll make you some hot tea,” Dolly said. “But first we need to call the doctor, since Mr. Cooper’s gone.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Lindsay responded, her tummy starting to gurgle again. “Although I hate to bother him at ten o’clock at night.”
Dolly snorted. “Well, I don’t. That’s what he gets paid those big bucks for.”
If Lindsay hadn’t felt so badly, she would have laughed. Leave it to Dolly to tell it like it was.
“Anyhow, you need something to settle your tummy. You have the baby to think about, you know.”
“I know.” Lindsay lifted dark-circled eyes to Dolly, who had pulled a chair up beside the bed. “Of all the times for Daddy to be gone. And Tim, too. Either one could’ve given me something.”
“Only they’re not here. So tell me who to call and the number.”
Once Dolly had placed the call and the doctor had answered, Lindsay reached for the receiver.
A few minutes later she had the name of a prescription that was safe for her to tak
e. The problem was the only pharmacy open at this time of night was not close. Thinking Tim might have the medication at home, she told Dolly to call Eve. After all, her brother owned several pharmacies and kept samples of all kinds on hand.
“Ms. Eve’s taking a look-see,” Dolly said moments later, getting up and rewetting the rag. “How do you feel?”
“Like someone’s using a blowtorch in my stomach.”
Dolly frowned. “That’s not good.”
Another sharp pain took Lindsay’s next breath. Surely she wasn’t going to throw up again. She decided not to bet on that as the nausea made its presence known once again.
“Honey chil’, breathe deep,” Dolly cooed, pressing the rag back in place. “That’ll sure ’nough help.”
Lindsay did as she was told. The pain did subside momentarily, for which she was grateful, though not nearly as grateful as she was when she saw Eve standing in the open door, a hesitant look on her face.
“Please, come on in,” Lindsay whispered, her eyes darting to her sister-in-law’s hands. Eve was holding a small sack.
Dolly stood, then swung around. “Oh, thank goodness. Did Dr. Tim have them?”
Eve crossed to the bed, her dove-gray eyes brimming with concern as she peered down at Lindsay, taking her hand. “That he did, so we’re in business.”
“Thanks, Eve,” Lindsay said, taking the pill and glass of water that her sister-in-law gave her.
“Now maybe you’ll feel better,” Eve said, stepping back. “God, you had me scared. And from the looks of you, I had a right to be.”
Dolly resumed her seat, after having pulled up another one for Eve, who perched on the edge of it, her eyes flicking around the dimly lit room.
“I’m hoping it’s just a virus and not anything to do with the baby,” Lindsay said in a voice peeled raw from vomiting.
Eve’s expression softened. “By the way, congratulations on both the baby and getting married.”
“As you probably know, things are not good.”
“Tim told me Cooper was having a conniption.”
“That’s an understatement.” Lindsay suddenly winced again.
Eve stood abruptly, her gaze swinging to Dolly, then back to Lindsay. “Look, I’m going to go so you can rest and the medicine can take effect.”
Lindsay managed a brief smile. “Thanks again for coming to my rescue.”
“When you’re better, we’ll have lunch. I’m so excited about the baby.”
“Me, too,” Lindsay said, taking Eve’s outstretched hand briefly, then letting it go.
“I’ll see my way out,” Eve said to Dolly, who had risen. “You stay with Lindsay.”
Lindsay’s eyes followed her sister-in-law to the door; then they fluttered shut at the same time that her belly unclenched. Sighing, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, only to awaken a short time later.
“Honey chil’, are you sick again?”
“Oh, Dolly,” Lindsay wailed. “That blowtorch is back in my stomach, and it’s killing me.”
“Enough is enough,” Dolly muttered. “I’m going to call 9-1-1.”
“No. Please. I don’t want to have to go to the emergency room. Maybe I should take another one of those pills.”
“You’re not due another one for several hours yet.”
Lindsay’s stomach spasmed again, and she cried out.
“That does it,” Dolly said. “I’m—”
“Call Mitch,” Lindsay whispered, writhing in pain. “He’ll know what to do.”
Mitch ran like a marathoner who was in the lead and smelled the finish line. Still, he wasn’t going fast enough to suit himself. If something happened to Lindsay before he reached her, he would never forgive himself.
The truth hit him then, as if he’d been slammed by a freight train. He loved her, loved her as he’d never loved anyone in his entire life.
And things between them couldn’t be worse. That train suddenly hit him again, almost sending him to his knees.
Earlier in the evening he’d been like a whipped dog in body and spirit, having taken to the sofa, where he nursed his wounds, all the while wishing he had the balls to seek out Lindsay and apologize for behaving like an ass.
When his phone had rung, he’d been tempted not to answer it, thinking it was either his ex-boss or his ex-wife. They were the only two people who ever called, and he hadn’t wanted to talk to either of them.
Yet the ringing hadn’t let up. Finally he’d picked up the receiver and growled into it. Once he recognized the housekeeper’s voice, his head cleared.
Now, as he bounded toward the house, he couldn’t help but feel a growing seed of encouragement. She had asked Dolly to call him, which was a damn good sign. So maybe he would have a chance to make things right between them, after all.
Not if she dies.
How could he even think such a thing? Nothing was going to happen to her. She was going to be just fine. After all, she was just sick to her stomach. How serious could that be? Hell, he didn’t know, especially since she was pregnant.
The baby! His baby.
Perspiration pricked his face and body, feeling like the invasion of tiny needles. Of all the times for Cooper to be gone. By the time Mitch reached the house and dashed up the stairs, he was drenched in sweat.
He knew he had arrived in record time, though it seemed like an eternity before he finally made his way into Lindsay’s room and saw her pale face bathed in agony.
“Thank God you’re here,” Dolly said, standing and wringing her hands. “I’m really worried.”
“Has she taken anything?” Mitch demanded, his gaze pinned to Lindsay.
“Yes, what her doctor prescribed. Ms. Eve brought it over.”
Mitch frowned. “Who’s that?”
“Dr. Tim’s wife.”
A warning bell went off inside Mitch’s head, but he had no choice but to ignore it. Now was not the time to give in to misplaced suspicions.
“I’m taking her to the emergency room,” Mitch replied in a low, clipped tone, barely able to speak past the lump in his throat.
“I was hoping you would,” Dolly responded, shoving the chair aside so he could get to the bed. “She’s ready to go. Robe, slippers and purse, with the medication she took.”
“It’s Mitch,” he whispered leaning over Lindsay and gently lifting her into his arms.
Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, then fell shut again. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he felt her body become less rigid, though silent tears coursed down her cheeks.
“I’m going to get you some help,” he said, his voice husky and urgent. “You’ll feel better soon.”
With a nod in Dolly’s direction, he walked out, holding the precious cargo close to his chest—a chest heavy with fear.
What was taking so long?
Mitch stood at the window in the emergency waiting room and stared without focus through the open blinds into the inky blackness. He had been allowed to remain with Lindsay in one of the cubicles until a little while ago, when Dr. Mason had arrived and asked him to step out while he examined her.
Mitch had been tempted to argue, hating like hell to leave Lindsay’s side. But he hadn’t, picking up on the steel in the doctor’s voice. But God, he felt helpless, a feeling he despised, thinking of it as a show of weakness.
He couldn’t stand seeing her so pale, so lifeless. He shuddered, staring at his watch, wondering what the hell was taking so long. The longer he was away from her, the more uptight he became.
Without her he felt lost, empty and without purpose.
Both Lindsay and the baby had to be all right, he reassured himself. They just had to be. He wouldn’t have it any other way. And when this nightmare was all over, he and Lindsay would live together as man and wife. He would do whatever it took to make that a reality.
He had no idea if she loved him or not. Love had never been discussed between them. He winced. They had been too busy lusting after each other.
But hey, he wasn’t without hope. He hadn’t even known how he felt about her until now. He would give her all the slack she needed. The only thing he wouldn’t give her was distance.
He wanted her with him, wanted to wake up with her beside him every morning for the rest of his life. He wanted to watch her stomach grow big and heavy with their child, wanted to watch the baby suckle at her nipples…
An emotion that had nothing to do with sex shot through him, almost doubling him over. To think he was going to have a family—something he’d never had before. He couldn’t wait.
“Mr. Rawlins.”
His head came up and around as if he’d been jerked by a chain. Dr. Mason stood behind him, a grave look on his face.
Mitch’s heart raced with dread, and when he tried to speak, his tongue felt twice its normal size. Finally he forced himself to ask, “Is Lindsay all right?”
“She will be.”
“Thank God.” Mitch’s chest was hurting so painfully that he clutched at it. “And the baby?”
“I’m sorry. She lost the child.”
Twenty-Nine
Mitch’s voice, when he finally spoke again, was low and strained, as if his vocal cords were in a bind. “Does she…does Lindsay know?”
“No. She was asleep.” Dr. Mason paused. “I thought you’d want to be with her when she was told.”
A white line formed around Mitch’s mouth. Then he muttered, “Thanks.”
Minutes later he was back in the emergency room cubicle, facing his wife, who was awake now, and whose shadowed eyes rested on him for a second before darting to the doctor.
“The baby? Is…it all right?”
Mitch stepped next to the bed and reached for her hand, his mouth working. “No, Lindsay. You lost the baby.”
For a while no one spoke. Mitch couldn’t take his gaze off Lindsay, though his own mind was still having difficulty fully processing the devastating news.
But it was Lindsay about whom he was most concerned. She placed a hand on her stomach, and he watched her shoulders beat in time with her sobs. The muted wailing sounds filled the room with an icy chill.
“Why?” she whispered, lifting her tear-ravaged face.
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