He quirked one brow. “Meaning childbirth?”
“No. That it’s the first time a guy has looked dismayed at the prospect of seeing me in less clothes. Not that I blame you.”
“You’re wrong, Kate.”
“Oh, please. It’s okay. I get it. Beach-ball belly, gown wet with amniotic fluid, about to give birth. Not exactly a guy’s fantasy.”
He shook his head. “Maybe not. But at the risk of sounding weird or like some kind of pervert, there’s something about the softness of your skin and a fragility about you that appeals to me. Even now. Not in a sexual way at this moment, and damned if I understand it, but the whole package appeals to me on some fundamental level.” He didn’t rush the explanation. There was a touch of amazement in his voice, as if the revelations were coming to him seconds before he disclosed them.
She stopped and stared at him with a touch of wonder in her soft gaze. “Oh. Um ...”
“Yeah. Surprised me too, but there it is. I expect reality will set in once I see the little guy.”
“Yeah.” Her face scrunched. “Oh, ow. Ow! Ow!”
He could’ve said the same thing about the grip she had on his hand but maintained his macho, though just barely. “Let’s get you changed and in the car.”
“Move me now, I’ll smack you,” she warned through gritted teeth.
He was seeing a hee-hee, whoo-whoo method to her breathing during each pain and wisely waited for the long breath at the end. The shudder that ran through her shook his arm. “Now?”
She nodded. “We should probably time the contractions. The hospital will want to know how close together they are.”
“I’ll do that in the car. You do what you have to and let’s go.” He tried to remember what he’d read about contractions and how far apart they should be upon arrival at the hospital, but his brain refused to extract those facts from the whirlwind inside his mind. If Kate said they had time, he’d have to trust her.
A fine sheen of perspiration dotted her upper lip. The intensity of her pain, revealed in such a tangible way, stiffened his posture.
Kate must have caught the subtle movement, for her gaze fastened on him. “What is it?”
“Nothing. Go ahead.” Everything, really, but they didn’t have time for him to explain, even if he could put it into words for her. One shiny memory surfaced through a jumble of thoughts, of Kate’s grateful acknowledgment of his calm support during their previous trip to the hospital. A giant Sequoia of resolve planted itself inside him, pushing its roots deep into dark spaces. She might profess to need freedom and independence, but in this she needed someone to be there, to hold her hand. He could do that, for as long as he was allowed.
* * * * *
The moment Toby closed them inside the sleek black vehicle, Rio folded his hand around hers. Kate glanced up in surprise and met his even gaze. As Toby drove with controlled urgency through the night, Rio dipped his chin just once as to reassure her. She sucked in a breath and nodded. Several contractions ripped through her at regular intervals. Each time, she gripped his hand and they rode them out together.
At the hospital, Toby rushed inside to notify the staff per Rio’s orders. Another contraction hit as Rio assisted her out of the vehicle. She cried out and turned to him, rested her forehead on his chest and breathed through it.
He stroked her hair. “Easy. You’re doing great. Another minute and we’ll be inside. They’ll give you something for the pain.”
“No,” she managed between whoo-whoo’s and looked up at him. The whirr-click sound of a camera came from her right.
“What the ...” Rio pivoted to shield her, but not before she caught a glimpse of the photographer’s gleeful grin.
She was beyond caring what the picture must look like with her standing so close to Rio, his hand on the back of her head. A young man in scrubs and Crocs came through the doors pushing a wheelchair with Toby close on his heels. Seeing the situation, the muscle-bound twin moved with surprising speed to hurry the camera-wielding pest on his way. Even so, he got in several more shots.
What followed for Kate was a flurry of questions and forms and breathing through more pain. At every turn, Rio was there, throwing out answers when she couldn’t, squeezing her shoulder in reassurance, demanding she be given something for the pain as she was wheeled into a private room.
“No, Rio. I promised James and Allie I’d do this naturally, if I could.”
“That’s what they all say to start out with.” A nurse in cartoonish-patterned scrubs grinned at her from the doorway, a flash of pure white against midnight skin. Even with her hair in wild dreadlocks, she gave off an air of confident competence. “I’m Mary. I’ll be with you through the delivery room. You change your mind about the meds, just say the word, girlfriend. There’s no shame in needing something to dull the pain. This your first?”
She worked with efficient movements while talking, locking the wheelchair and assisting Kate to stand.
“I ... yes. And I’m Kate.” She looked at Rio in silent apology. “His surrogate.”
Rio’s eyes widened, then darted to the nurse who blinked twice but recovered fast. “Wonderful. I need you to change into this lovely hospital gown and there’s slipper socks to warm your feet.” She turned to Rio. “And you are?”
“Rio Hawthorne.”
“Hawthorne.” The light in her eyes dimmed. “Oh. I see.”
Yes, Kate was sure the woman knew all about the situation. Who didn’t, with all the publicity heaped on the story? She took the gown and stepped into the restroom to change for the second time in an hour.
“You’re seeing this through, then?” Mary’s voice carried easily under the thick door.
“Excuse me?” Rio asked.
“You’re staying to support her through the birth, or is there another who’s coaching?”
Kate stilled while tying the gown’s second set of strings together, certain he’d say no.
“Well ... we haven’t, uh, had a chance to discuss it. We thought there was more time. Kate said —”
She wrenched the door open, the invisible band squeezing around her middle again. Something in her face must have alerted Rio. He rushed to support her.
“Just starting?” Mary asked, her gaze darting to her wristwatch.
Kate nodded and squelched the urge to voice her discomfort by beginning the breathing technique she’d practiced. Man, it hurt. This was the worst one yet. She took the hand Rio offered in a fierce grip and closed her eyes.
Mary took charge, showing Rio how to rub the heel of his hand into her lower back and helped talk Kate through the black haze. After an eternity, the band loosened and she breathed easier.
“O-kay, young lady, let’s get you off your feet and into bed.” Mary assisted her, making sure the gown remained together until Kate was seated and comfortable. “You’re lucky. Dr. Krieger was in the hospital with another delivery and will be by shortly to check on you. I’ll get you some ice. Be back in a jiffy.”
Hearing that her doctor, and not whoever was on call in the practice, would be in attendance made Kate more relaxed. Someone familiar. That was great. Apparently, Rio didn’t see the significance. He stood at her bedside, his fingers sliding back and forth, back and forth on the rail Mary had raised. “You want me to call your brothers?”
“No. What about your mom?”
Rio hesitated, his fingers tightening around the metal. “She had a long day yesterday. I’ll let her sleep until we know something. Nothing she can do but worry, anyway.”
“True.”
“Do you have someone else lined up to coach you? I could call them for you.”
She shook her head. “I haven’t had any luck finding anyone.”
“You wouldn’t want me in —”
“I’d never ask you —” Their words tumbled together, the oh-please-no look on his face halting her pretty little speech. She’d been prepared to say she’d never ask him to stay with her if he wasn’t comfortable with
it but wouldn’t mind having his steady presence in the delivery room. His decision. “No. No, of course not. That would be awkward.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” His hands slid along the rail more rapidly now. “Awkward.”
What had she been thinking? Lots of pioneer women had managed on their own in fields and log cabins. She had a whole delivery room full of medical professionals to help her. Even if she didn’t have anyone there for her in the personal sense, she would be just fine. Just dandy.
“Aaagh!” Another wave of pain hit. Not as much warning this time. More like a tsunami. She gripped Rio’s hand without knowing how it came to be in hers and dug her head back into the pillow. God. She was being split into. Where was that keening sound coming from?
“Breathe through it, Kate. Come on. You know what to do. Don’t forget your training now.” Mary was back and all business. “Mr. Rio, if you’re going to stay then get busy. Coach her with the sounds, give her ice chips to moisten her mouth and rub her back.”
Kate slipped into breathing properly and it helped but not a lot. Would it get worse than this?
“Well, what have we here?” Dr. Krieger breezed into the room, patted Kate’s arm with a cool hand. “Baby Hawthorne is impatient to join us, is he?”
Kate nodded and took a cleansing breath as her misery eased. Whew. Intense. The way she was sweating, she could have just come off a brisk five-mile run.
“Rio, since you’re coaching, just stay where you are.” Dr. Krieger ordered. “Kate, I’m going to do a quick exam and see how far you’re dilated.”
Mary was busy draping Kate for privacy and bending her knees upright as the doctor spoke.
Kate released Rio’s hand and mouthed a quick “sorry.” He pulled a silly face and cradled his hand as if she’d crushed it, making her laugh a little. He shrugged to let her know it was okay. The warm light in his eyes held her attention as Dr. Krieger began the exam. Kate felt pressure.
Rio bent closer, offering ice chips on a spoon. “You don’t have to go through this much pain. James and Allie shouldn’t have asked that of you. Take the meds if you want.”
She couldn’t explain her desire to experience childbirth without the dullness that pain killers might bring. It was a personal choice as well as honoring the birth parents’ wishes. Very likely, she’d never be in this situation again. This was a been-there-done-that, don’t-care-to-repeat-it deal. “I’m okay. I can do this.”
The snap of sterile gloves being stripped off preceded Dr. Krieger’s chuckle. “I swear this little fellow has his own timetable and is eager to get here. You’re at six centimeters already and everything looks good. I’m predicting he’s here before morning.”
Chapter Eight
From two whole weeks to get ready for his life to be turned upside down, Rio now had a few hours.
In between having the bones in his hand pulverized by Kate’s grip, he used the first hour to beg and cajole the maternity staff for someone to teach him baby care. When that didn’t work, he played up the sympathy angle for the innocent orphan being placed in his incompetent care. He must have sounded convincing because he received contact information for two nurses and a retired midwife who might want to pick up some extra income teaching him how to care for his nephew.
The next hour involved more labor coaching duties. Kate’s contractions growing closer together, meriting another visit from Dr. Krieger. Just as she’d predicted, Kate’s labor was progressing quickly. Even so, he managed to call and arrange an interview with the midwife for the following day. The quaver in her voice had had him wondering how many years ago she’d retired. The second number was disconnected and the third possibility was leaving for her favorite cousin’s wedding in two days and wouldn’t be persuaded to change her mind, even for a generous bonus.
Buoyed by his small success, he returned to Kate’s room to find her nurse, Mary, wiping Kate’s brow. She lay with her eyes closed, hair in damp tendrils around her face, the rise and fall of her chest more rapid than a few minutes before.
“Another contraction?” he asked.
Mary touched a finger to her lips and moved toward him.
“She’s close.” Mary kept her voice just above a whisper. “We’re letting her rest between contractions but will be moving her into the birthing suite soon. It came open just in time for this little fellow to make his debut. I’ll show you where to gown up.”
“Oh, I’m not—” He broke off as Kate’s eyes opened and fastened on his. Pleading. Weary. He pushed the slice of panic away. Though he wasn’t aware of moving, he was at her side, brushing damp hair off her cheek. “Kate?”
“Don’t leave me. Please?” Her voice was thick with tears, the plea something between a whimper and a whisper. For Kate to ask such a thing, she had to be feeling pretty low. The hardest part was yet to come, but already she looked worn out. He couldn’t let her see his lack of enthusiasm for witnessing his nephew’s birth. She needed him.
He leaned in close, his lips next to her ear. “Now that’s the kind of reaction a man looks for after a perfect kiss. You couldn’t have said that earlier?”
She managed a half smile and a cautious look in Mary’s direction, but the nurse was busy addressing an orderly from the doorway. “Men,” Kate responded in the same low tones he’d used. “How can you possibly think about such things at a time like this?”
“It’s hard not to. I feel like pounding my chest with you looking so deceptively sweet and vulnerable.”
At his dig, she managed a half laugh. “I guess I deserve that, cave man.”
Yeah, this was working. He could almost put the delivery room out of his mind. Almost. “You also deserve someone to stay with you. You’re doing this wonderful thing for my family. The least I can do is stay by your side and see it through.”
“Really?”
She sounded so grateful, it shamed Rio. Kate had no one else but him. He could do this. “Anyone trying to pry me away will have a fight on their hands.”
“How very Neanderthal of you. I’m beginning to think you’re in a class all your o— Aaaagh!”
“Don’t forget to breathe,” he reminded her, though it sounded ridiculous, but she quit gritting her teeth and started the familiar chant-like rhythm.
The next few minutes were a flurry of activity which involved moving Kate to the birthing suite. Rio tuned out Dr. Krieger, Mary and others who came and went. Here an admirable attempt had been made to transform a corner of the hospital into a more home-like setting. The walls were a cheerful pale yellow. Soft colors in drapes and throw pillows on a small couch as well as wall art added to the effect, yet it was still quite evident the room was equipped for serious medical business. The business of bringing babies into the world.
He closed his mind to that thought and shuddered. The only way he could get through this was to concentrate on the immediate tasks at hand. Be strong for Kate. Coach. Distract and soothe if he could. The rest would be here all too soon.
* * * * *
Giant waves of pain engulfed Kate’s world now, trying to drag her under. And she was tired. So tired. If James and Allie were here, she would give them a piece of her mind and it wouldn’t be pretty. What were they thinking? What had she been thinking, having a baby for someone else? Just when she thought she could get her breath, another contraction tore through her. Enough was enough.
“Okay, Kate, this time I need you to give me a big push.” Dr. Krieger’s voice came from somewhere below Kate’s knees. “As hard as you can. Rio, support her upper body like Mary showed you.”
Kate bore down, noises coming from her that shared her body’s distress with the world in a universal language. She knew fiery heat that threatened her sanity and she knew intense pressure. Too much pressure. Her body couldn’t withstand such torture, could it? If she strained any harder her guts would come out too. Why hadn’t she insisted on drugs? If ever there was a time for some relief, this was it.
“You’re doing great. I’m so proud of y
ou. That’s it, just a little more.” Rio’s voice next to her ear grated on her last nerve.
“Can’t. Please make it stop. No more,” she babbled between pants. Something wet her cheeks. Tired. So tired. If they’d just let her take a little nap —
“You can do this, Kate.” Dr. Krieger’s voice held as much compassion as a drill sergeant in boot camp. “One more push should do it. Count to three, take a deep breath, and let’s try again.”
Kate whimpered. Let’s try?
“Did you hear that? One more push and it’s all over, Kate.” Rio stroked her forehead with a damp cloth. Her erratic emotions did a one-eighty, making her ashamed for wishing he’d go away. He’d been a rock through all this, and she should be grateful for his presence. Was grateful for his presence.
The promise of relief was too tempting. With Rio’s words echoing in her head, Kate gathered what little energy reserves she had left and pushed.
Albert James Hawthorne greeted the world with a roar of displeasure at exactly 3:24 a.m. Shortly after, Dr. Krieger transferred the gooey little boy to Mary for cleanup and inspection. To Kate, Rio looked awfully pale and appeared to be sinking.
“Hey, somebody —” was all Kate had time to utter before Krieger darted to his side, shoved him onto a short stool and forced his head between his knees.
“Deep breaths, Rio, and don’t try to stand until your head quits spinning. We’ll bring the baby to you.” Krieger’s tone brooked no argument. She turned to Kate and winked. “Tried to faint on us. It happens. The dads don’t realize they’re holding their breath with the moms, then comes the head rush and bam, they’re down.”
Kate’s attention turned back to the baby. He’d quieted some, fussing now and again as Mary worked on him. Beside her, a still pale Rio eased upright while rubbing the back of his neck and sighing. She noticed he didn’t look in the baby’s direction.
She couldn’t seem not to and caught little glimpses of pink-skinned profile. Tiny nose. A delicate earlobe. Beneath Mary’s chin, a tiny fist shot into the air, a miniature victory pump. Kate’s chest swelled with a flood of warmth and joy.
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