Pregnant Nurse, New-Found Family

by Lynne Marshall

  Wanting to shout, No! We’ll make this pregnancy work, no matter what, he kept his mouth firmly shut. She’d lost not one but two babies and, as little as he knew about her, he could tell it had left a deep scar. How could it not? He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, stroke her

  Her normally bright hazel eyes remained clouded and sad. And he hadn’t helped her current problem a bit by asking her to verify last night that he was the father. A strange dull ache made him scratch his chest. “Regardless of what happens, I’d like to get to know you better. Would that be OK with you?”

  She looked taken aback, her eyes widened and her cheeks tinted a pleasant shade of pink. “I suppose so.”

  “Patrick has karate tomorrow afternoon and, after that, music lessons, which gives me a few free hours. Can you spare some time for me then?”

  If the look on her face was any indication, he was about to hear another inventive excuse for getting out of spending time alone with him. “If you want to tag along with me while I make some deliveries.”

  “Deliveries? Like pizza?”

  “Not even funny, Riordan. It’s another part-time job. Why don’t you come along and find out? We can talk while I drive.”

  Gavin watched a twenty-year-old, nondescript four-door sedan drive to his curb. It looked clean and functional, sort of like its owner, only if you added the terms sleek and alluring. He smiled and felt a buzz of excitement as she neared the driveway. It seemed curiously sexy, knowing Beth carried his child. Nah, he was not turned on about that.

  She smiled and waved him in. He opened the door to myriad aromas. The back of the car was filled with a large hot box.

  “You do deliver pizza.” Gavin glanced toward the backseat, wondering where her hat was.

  “Nope. Senior nutrition service. For those who hate to cook, we deliver.” Beth sparkled a smile his way.

  “Another volunteer job?” He raised a brow. “You’ll never get rich like that.”

  “Actually, it’s a part-time job, every other Tuesday afternoon, and I get paid.” She looked him directly in the eye then quickly back to the road. “Though not much.”

  He shook his head. “You could make a hell of a lot more money working one extra shift a week in the ER instead of all of these weird little jobs.”

  “I don’t do ER. When my stress level rises, my IQ drops. And I can’t take blood and guts. Besides, I like my ‘weird little jobs’. It’s my way of giving back to the community.”

  How was it he’d never met a woman like her before? He glanced across the car and saw a fresh-scrubbed complexion and hair silken and shiny. She was wearing it down and he had an urge to run his fingers through it.

  “So where’s your delivery hat?”

  She rolled her eyes and ignored him. He finally fastened his seat belt and placed his arm along the bench seat. He left it dangerously close to her tempting hair. He itched to tickle and play with the honey-colored ends.

  He propped his ankle on the adjacent knee. “What’s for dinner?”

  “For us or them?” Bethany concentrated on the road ahead.

  An impulse had him snag a lock of hair and twist it around his finger. “Why don’t you tell me both and I’ll decide if I want to eat with you or the seniors.” He tugged affectionately. She pulled away the slightest bit, so he let go.

  “Well,” she said. “Inside the delivery box you’ll find some kosher meals and a few chicken Parmesan, boiled potatoes and mixed vegetable meals. Since I owe you dinner, I’m giving you the choice between the Weiner Haven or Ted’s Charbroiled Burgers.” She tossed him an apologetic look. “It’s all I can afford until Friday.”

  Payday. He thought of a cozy Italian place where they could sit knee to knee and gaze into each other’s eyes while sharing a plate of spaghetti, but Beth wanted to repay him the dinner she owed him and had made it clear she was short on cash. “I’ve been craving a double cheese burger for days,” he said. “Definitely Ted’s.”

  She grinned and switched on the radio to country music. It figured that songs about love, family, and life’s simple pleasures would appeal to her. Slowly, the puzzle that was Beth began to materialize and he enjoyed connecting the pieces.

  Gavin insisted on being useful and accompanied Beth to the door with the first of several deliveries. He acted the part of waiter and placed each covered dish before the older couples as they smiled and looked on.

  By the last house, Gavin was thoroughly into his delivery-boy persona. He hopped out of the car and carried the warm platter on the tips of all five fingers, above his head. If he’d had a large cloth napkin, it would have been slung over his arm.

  He insisted on knocking. The door rattled. Bethany stood at his side and grinned at him. He winked at her and looked forward to stealing a kiss later. No one answered. He knocked harder and Bethany called out the lady’s name. Still no answer.

  “That’s odd.” She walked to a front window, cupped her hands and looked inside. “Mrs Harrington uses a walker—maybe she’s just taking longer than usual?”

  Gavin opened the screen and tried the handle on the door. It was locked. He led Beth around the side of the house to the back. He tapped on the door and called out her name. The door wasn’t locked.

  “Mrs Harrington?” He opened it wider.

  They ventured inside and walked toward the kitchen. He put the meal on the table and explored deeper inside the house. “Mrs Harrington? It’s the dinner service.”

  They heard a weak cat-like mew and rushed toward a closed door off the dining room. A bathroom. Bethany edged the door open and found the walker on its side just out of Mrs Harrington’s reach. Now doubled over on the toilet, whimpering, the elderly woman had managed to hit her head at some point. Dried blood caked on the floor.

  “Can you help me?” a shaky, frail voice pleaded.

  Bethany rushed to her side and checked her pulse. “How long have you been here?” She checked her over from head to toe.

  “I can’t remember.”

  “Did you lose consciousness?”

  “I don’t think so.” She reached with trembling arms for Beth’s hands.

  “Squeeze,” she said, testing for signs of a stroke.

  Gavin had been waiting at the door to give the woman privacy, but quickly strode inside to lift her from the toilet. She wore pajamas and had probably been stuck there since the night before. Paper-thin skin showed a freeway of red capillaries and blue vessels. It wouldn’t take much to tear her skin and make her bleed. They needed to be extra careful. Her feet were blue from poor circulation and blood pooling with gravity. Even though a deadweight, she was light when he lifted and carried her into the bedroom after Bethany had pulled her pajama bottoms up.

  “I’m a doctor. Can you feel anything in your legs?” he asked when she felt like ice.

  Beth rushed into the bedroom with a damp washcloth and dabbed at the cut outlined with dried blood on the woman’s forehead.

  “I feel pins and needles.”

  “Move your toes for me,” he said. “Good.” He watched Beth tend to the woman, gently pinching the flesh on her arm, which stayed peaked. “Poor skin turgor. She’s badly dehydrated. I’ll call for an ambulance. She needs IV fluids.” She picked up the phone at the bedside.

  “You’ll be fine.” Gavin made a point of reassuring the woman. “We’re going to get some medical attention for you, OK?”

  She nodded approval as if she were a limp, antique rag doll.

  Later, with their plans thrown off course by the paramedics’ visit, Gavin suggested they get the burgers from Ted’s as take-out. “I know a spot with a great view, Beth. And it’s near Patrick’s karate studio. Let’s eat there.”

  “Fine with me, as long as it’s not too far. I’m starving.”

  She looked so cute in faded jeans and a blue shirt that if his hands hadn’t been full of hamburgers and drinks, he would have scooped her into his arms and squeezed her. She had a sweet way of lifting herself up onto her toes
when she walked, a jaunty step that made it extra fun to follow behind.

  Back in the car, he directed her up several long, winding roads to the lookout point he had in mind. “You say you don’t like working in the ER, but back at Mrs Harrington’s you showed all the signs of a great triage nurse.”

  “Not really. What I did was just common sense.”

  “That’s exactly what a good triage nurse needs. And don’t underestimate yourself. You’re a good nurse.”

  Once they’d arrived at the lookout point, they parked and sat on the hood of her car. He used the windshield as a backrest, and tore open his bag. “I did good, right?”

  “Oh, Gavin, the view is wonderful. I never knew this place existed.” She sat straight, her back slightly arched with her hands on her knees, feet on the bumper, scanning the panoramic vista of twilight with glittering dots and long flowing streams of car lights below. The early moon hung just above her head in a perfect half-circle. A breeze gently lifted her hair.

  The view was spectacular, and seemed close enough to touch. He hated to tear his gaze away from Beth to look at the city. After they ate, he checked his watch. In twenty minutes he’d have to leave to pick up Patrick. He clasped his hands behind his head and tried to remember when he had last felt this relaxed. Beth leaned back on one arm and twisted to look at him.

  “Come here,” he said.

  She crawled up the hood and sat beside him. Spending the last few hours with her, coupled with their medical adventure, had him feeling like they were old friends. He put his arm around her and pulled her near. She didn’t resist.

  “We make a great team, eh?”

  She nodded. “Poor Mrs Harrington. What would have happened if we hadn’t come along?”

  “Good question. I guess we were meant to be there.” He played with her hair. “Hey, I made an appointment with Dr Scott for you this Thursday.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  Things got quiet as they pondered the meaning of her first obstetrics appointment. They’d made a baby together, a beautiful thing. He glanced at her and felt a surge of affection. Even though unexpected, making a baby with Bethany was a beautiful thing.

  “Tell me about your marriage,” he said, curious to know how she’d been hurt. It had to be the key to why she was so cautious with him.

  As if checking his sincerity, she gazed into his eyes, hers more green today than hazel. “I swear to you, this isn’t a pattern, but we had to get married. I thought I loved him, but everything went wrong from the start. After my second miscarriage, I lost all hope. Then he left me for someone else.”

  “What a bastard.”

  “You’ve got that right.”

  “How did he feel about losing the babies?”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I honestly don’t think he cared.”

  How could she trust another man after that? God, he

  He felt her tense up, as though she didn’t want to talk about her failed marriage another second. Maybe by sharing his own divorce story, he could keep their new-found lines of communication open, and he could get her to trust him. “I don’t know about you, but I felt damn bitter after my divorce.”

  “Bitter doesn’t come close to how I felt.”

  “I found it hard to pick up and carry on,” he said.

  “I wanted to sleep twenty-four hours a day, but I had a job to do and obligations to my patients.”

  “Sometimes that’s a good thing,” he said. “You know, life must go on and all that.”

  She clicked her tongue. “And look where we’ve wound up.”

  He gave a wry laugh. She had a point.

  “What went wrong with your marriage?” she asked.

  “A better question would be what didn’t go wrong.”

  This time she laughed, and it made him feel good to lighten her mood, even at his own expense.

  “Well, Patrick certainly was a gift,” she said.

  “Yes. Definitely. It tore me up to lose him. I hated it. I was doing the best I knew how, and Maureen was pushing all of my buttons. And she dangled Patrick like a carrot so I’d ante up. How could she treat our son like that? And then, three years after the divorce, just when we were all getting used to how things were going, she took off for

  Bethany’s hand warmed his. A look of complete understanding settled in her eyes. It gave him the courage to open up more.

  “If it hadn’t been for my med school debts, I would have fought harder for custody, but everyone sided with Maureen and said it was in Patrick’s best interests to be with his mom.” He shook his head. “Now that I have him back, even though it’s only temporary, I don’t ever want to be out of his life again.” He stared deeply into her eyes. “What I’m trying to say is I’m not going to abandon the baby.”

  There it was again, that incredible smile that only she could make. It made him want to grab her. He knew he had to leave soon, but couldn’t resist. He reached for her and gave her a different kind of kiss—more like long-term lovers sharing a moment of deep affection. She reached around his neck and held him firmly in place to deepen the kiss. He liked that. Hell, he liked her. He rubbed and massaged her back and arms—soft and warm. A wave of heat washed over him like a soothing blanket.

  He brushed some of her hair away and studied her lovely, expressive eyes, her cheeks, and delicately shaped lips. Perhaps he stared too long.

  Like a shy kid, she cuffed his shoulder. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “How am I looking at you?”

  “Like you think I’m freaky or strange or…”

  “Or beautiful?”

  She grew still. “Must be that glow of motherhood.”

  That forced his mind back to their situation. “Just to let you know. Every minute I spend with you, I like you more. I wish things were different, but I’m willing to explore the possibility of you and me.”

  She relaxed against him. “It’s so strange, isn’t it? I mean, how do you start to date a guy who is already the father of your child?”

  He tilted his head back and gave a wry laugh. “I guess we’ll have to figure it out as we go along.” He checked his watch. “In the meantime, I’ve got to pick up Patrick.”

  They broke apart with regret and he hopped off the car and helped her down. “I was thinking about asking Carmen to babysit Patrick on Saturday night so I can take you to a special Italian place I know.”

  “Oh. Um. I’m sorry, but I can’t.” She wiped her hands on her jeans.

  “Ah, come on, is it another part-time job?”

  “No. I have a date.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  GOOD old Larry from the lab. How long ago had they made their plans for the west coast version of that hit Broadway musical? Long before Beth had known Gavin even existed. If the tickets for the musical hadn’t been so damn expensive, she’d consider calling it off. But she couldn’t do that to Larry, they’d been friends too long.

  Beth bashed the steering-wheel with the cuff of her hand as she drove away from Gavin’s house.

  She’d never forget the look on Gavin’s face when she’d said no to his offer of dinner on Saturday night. If only she’d said no the night they’d met, they wouldn’t be in this predicament. But then she would never have had the chance to get to know him, and so far she liked what she’d found out about him just fine.

  She shook her head. To his credit, Gavin did seem to be trying to venture into a possible relationship with her. And what was it with him about getting her to consider working in the ER as a triage nurse? That was the last place she belonged. Especially as he worked there! Though he did have a point about her being able to earn a lot more

  Where the baby was concerned, it was crunch time, and the need to stay on top of things would have to be taken into account in any decisions. And she had to admit she’d gotten a tiny rush of adrenaline and a sense of really being connected with her community when they’d rescued Mrs Harrington. But the lady had already quit bleeding! A little voice in the bac
k of her head suggested that most of the people who came to the ER weren’t actively bleeding either. OK, so maybe she’d think about it.

  Beth smiled, and remembered their tender kiss on the hood of her car. How romantic was that? She liked Gavin. She really liked him. Talk about chemistry. Yes, she was sounding dangerously similar to a teenager with a crush, with one exception—she happened to be carrying his baby. He’d given his word to help out with bringing a child into the world, had even arranged for a top-notch doctor to be her OB specialist, but what about personal commitment?

  Gavin was obviously making up for lost time with his son, and the boy deserved nothing less, so how would she and a baby fit into the picture? And if they did get involved, would he lose interest in her and move on like her exhusband had? Regardless, Beth would never admit it to him, could hardly admit it to herself, but she’d be counting the days until Saturday. Thank goodness he’d invited her to Patrick’s soccer game on Saturday afternoon as a substitute for dinner.

  Rubbing her stomach, feeling a glimmer of hope that things might work out for the best, she turned the corner and headed for home.

  *

  Some time around four o’clock on Thursday afternoon, Gavin appeared in the testing lab of the allergy department. Beth looked up and froze. She had been in the middle of three different skin tests, running between curtains and gurneys, checking skin reactions on patients’ backs and setting clocks to time others. She looked at his serious expression and shrank back.

  He stood there, his hands on his hips. “Do you have a minute?”

  “It’s a little hectic right now.” Not that she didn’t have an urge to drop everything for the man who, just by showing up, made her feel weak in the knees.

  He approached, touched her elbow. “Thirty seconds,” he said, and led her to the corner of the room.

  Her heart thumped in her chest. She made one guess at why was he there.

  “How did the appointment go with Karen?” he whispered.

  Surprised, but pleased he’d remembered her first OB doctor’s appointment, she answered, “Really well. She said I was about six weeks along and could expect to deliver in December.”