The Nurse's Baby Secret

by Janice Lynn

  She smiled softly, stroking her fingers across her belly. “Sometimes it isn’t easy. I can only imagine how it’s going to be these next few months, especially if he or she has the hiccups.”

  His brow arched. “The hiccups? How can you tell?”

  “I feel them. They’re these rhythmic little movements inside me. I researched it online because I kept thinking I might be too early to feel them, but apparently babies start hiccupping in the first trimester after the central nervous system forms. I probably feel them so easily because I was so small before pregnancy.”

  “You’re still small.”

  “Ha, not hardly.” She patted the round curve of her belly. “Next time I feel hiccups, I’ll let you know so you can feel too.” Her gaze met his and he’d swear he could dive off into the deep blue of her eyes and get lost forever.

  “If you want,” she added, suddenly looking uncertain.

  He pulled her closer to him, holding her as he wrapped his arm around her and put his hand back over her stomach. “I want.”

  He did want. So many things that he couldn’t begin to label, or even acknowledge.

  Life was better that way.

  Her life. His life.

  Their baby’s life.

  He couldn’t forget that.

  * * *

  Savannah slid behind the steering wheel of the used car she was considering purchasing. Her pulse thundered like a wildebeest stampede across the Serengeti and breathing became so difficult you’d have thought she’d been leading the herd.

  “Maybe I don’t want to buy a car yet,” she mused, earning a frown from the salesman and a look of concern from Charlie.

  “You’ll be going home soon,” Charlie reminded her, his gaze coming hard her way from the passenger seat. “You need transportation.”

  The salesman, worried he might lose a prospective customer, reiterated, “We have other models much nicer than this one.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with this car,” she said. “I’m just not sure I’m in the market for a different vehicle.”

  “Well, you can’t go back to driving the old one,” Charlie reminded her as he motioned the salesman off and closed the passenger car door.

  He was right. The insurance company had declared her old car totaled and cut her a check for the value. She’d bought the car used a few years ago so the amount hadn’t been much. Oh, how she dreaded having a car payment. Especially now, when she’d want to take time off work for a while when the baby came along.

  That was why she was hesitating.

  It had nothing to do with fear.

  Fear of driving.

  Fear of being behind the wheel of a car.

  Fear of another vehicle smashing into hers.

  Fear of the pain that followed.

  Yeah, fear had nothing to do with why she hesitated to start the ignition.

  “Savannah?”

  “Hmm?” she answered without looking at him.

  “It’s going to be okay.”

  That had her turning his way. “What?”

  “I know you’re scared, but it’s like riding a bicycle. You’ll be fine.”

  “I have some nasty scars on my knees from bicycle wrecks.”

  “But you still went right back on your bicycle every time.”

  He was right. She had. She’d been younger then, more foolish. Driving this car felt foolish.

  “Driving the car is going to be the same,” he gently told her, placing his hand on her knee. “It’s a little scary just because the last time you drove you were in an accident, but it’s going to be all right.”

  Hearing him give voice to her fears made them seem all the more real.

  “You’re sure?”

  “There are no guarantees in life, but I do know you’re a good driver, Savannah.” His thumb stroked across her pants in a reassuring motion. “Statistically, that decreases the risk of you being in an accident.”

  “I was in an accident.”

  “Which statistically decreases the risk of you being in another accident.”

  She stared straight ahead, took a deep breath. “I feel as if I’m sitting in Driver’s Education class and about to drive for the first time—only without the excited anticipation and a whole bunch of fear thrown in.”

  “Was that the first time you drove? In Driver’s Education class?”

  She nodded and took a deep breath. “Here goes.”

  She turned the key, started the car, and put it into reverse.

  “You’re pretty good for a beginner,” he teased when she pulled the car out of the lot. “But if you think you’re going to get an ‘A’ in this class, you might have to become the teacher’s pet.”

  “Ha ha. You wish,” she countered, wondering at how sweaty her palms were as she gripped the steering wheel for dear life. “So, when was the first time you drove?”

  “I was fourteen and snuck out of the house to drive to a girl’s house.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  He grinned. “She was sixteen to my fourteen. I had to do something to convince her I wasn’t a kid.”

  “At fourteen, you were a kid.”

  “I didn’t feel like a kid.”

  “Why’s that?” She flicked her gaze his way, saw a flurry of emotions cross his face.

  “I grew up a lot faster than some kids do.”

  As before, she found herself wondering at his childhood, wanting to know more.

  “Tell me about your childhood.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Charlie, work with me here. I need distraction.” She kept her tone light, teasing. “Tell me about your childhood so the fact I’m driving a car for the first time in four weeks will quit being foremost in my mind. I don’t want to think about my wreck.”

  “I don’t want you to think about your wreck.”

  “Then distract me.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “Kentucky.”

  Kentucky. She hadn’t known that.

  “Your parents have both passed on?”

  He didn’t say anything, so she glanced his way to see the tail end of a nod. She had known that already, so she wasn’t sure why she’d asked, maybe in hopes of getting him to talk about his parents.

  “No siblings?”

  “Nope.”

  “Sounds lonely.”

  * * *

  Lonely? Yeah, Charlie’s childhood could be thought of as lonely. Not that he hadn’t had friends. He had. Lots of them. And girlfriends. He’d had a lot of those, too.

  Such as the sixteen-year-old he’d snuck out to see the first time he’d driven a car, the first time he’d done several things. He’d been lucky he hadn’t wrecked his mom’s car and that his dad never found out what he’d done. He’d have beaten him black and blue.

  But his father never had and his mother had decided if he was old enough to sneak out to see a girl he was old enough to run errands for her. Too bad he hadn’t been the one driving the night she’d died.

  “How did they die?”

  Savannah’s question brought him back to the present. Sort of. “My old man died of lung cancer, brought on by a lifelong cigarette habit that wasn’t helped by working in a coal mine. My mother was killed in a car accident.”

  Savannah’s foot tapped the brake harder than she should have as she stopped at a red light. “Your mother was killed in a car wreck?”

  Unable to speak, he nodded.

  “I’m glad you didn’t lose me and the baby that way, too.”

  His gaze cut to her and he wasn’t sure what to say. Savannah’s wreck had been an accident, something beyond her control. H
is mother’s wreck had been a single-car incident. The wreck had been ruled an accident, but Charlie had never believed that. His father hadn’t either.

  Not that his father had shown much remorse, or emotion at all. He’d just seemed to accept that his wife was gone.

  Charlie never had.

  “Me too.” For a moment he allowed himself to consider having lost Savannah and the baby in the wreck. Pain shot across his chest and he immediately put the thought out of his head, reminding himself that she sat next to him, living, breathing, beautiful. He squeezed her thigh and found himself never wanting to let go. “Very glad.”

  What would he have done had Savannah died in that wreck? What would be different?

  Everything.

  She pulled away from the red light and within minutes they were back at the car lot.

  “You’re sure you don’t want something newer, more reliable?” he asked, thinking it was his job to look out for her and the baby, to protect them as much as he could. He’d buy her a new car, one with an excellent safety record, one recommended for a single mom, with all the bells and whistles to make her life easier. But she’d already shot that down.

  “I researched online and this car is rated well. It’s a good price and, despite your suggestion that I need a brand new car, I really don’t need or want the expense of something new.”

  “I told you I’d help you,” he reminded her, wishing she’d let him help her more.

  She switched off the motor, turned and met his gaze. “And I told you that I didn’t need your help. I got this.”

  * * *

  “I think that’s the last of my stuff.” Savannah glanced around the living room as if she expected to see something she’d overlooked. “If you find something I’ve missed, maybe you could ship it to me?”

  “Or I could bring it to you when you go into labor.”

  Labor. She hoped that would be at least three to four months from now, preferably the full four.

  Months without seeing Charlie.

  Her throat tightened and her eyes pricked with moisture. Saying goodbye hadn’t been easy in Chattanooga, and it wasn’t now. Maybe his having just walked away from the ultrasound had been better.

  She stared at him and searched for the right words, but none seemed to really convey what she wanted to let him know.

  “Thank you for taking care of me these past few weeks, Charlie.”

  “You’re welcome.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal. Possibly to him it wasn’t.

  She moved to him and wrapped her arms around him as much as her belly would let her.

  “Thank you,” she repeated, knowing she was thanking him for much more than he realized, maybe even than she’d realized until that moment. She felt a peace she hadn’t felt when he’d left, a peace that came from the knowledge that, although the thought of being without him hurt, she would be just fine. She and their child would be okay, no matter what he did or didn’t do.

  She could do this.

  He hugged her back, then tilted her chin toward him. “You’re sure you’re ready to go?”

  She was going to miss being here with him. “It’s time I go home.”

  He stared into her eyes, so much emotion flickering in the dark depths of his.

  “Savannah.” Her name came out of his mouth a bit broken and a whole lot needy.

  Her lips parted. He was going to kiss her. She could feel it in the quickening of his heartbeat, in the intake of his breath, in the tensing of his body against hers, in the way he was looking at her.

  The way he’d always looked at her, with need and want and desire and whatever it was he felt that she used to label love. No matter what it was called, Charlie looked at her in a way no man had ever looked at her, in a way she’d never wanted any other man to look at her, and that she doubted she ever would. This was Charlie. Her Charlie.

  For the past few weeks she’d wanted him, wanted him to kiss her and touch her, and although he had touched her hand, her face, her belly, her leg, he hadn’t really touched her. Not sexually. Not possessively. Not like he was looking at her at this moment.

  His head lowered, his breath was warm against her mouth; her body was full of excited anticipation.

  “I hope that’s everything because your new car is about out of room,” Chrissie said, coming back into the apartment. “Thank goodness we sent part of your stuff back with your cousin.”

  Savannah stepped back from Charlie just as lights went off above Chrissie’s head.

  “Oops, sorry. I’ll be down in the car when you’re ready.” She turned around and walked back out of the apartment.

  Although Savannah had started driving again, she hadn’t argued with Charlie when he’d told her he didn’t want her making the two-hour drive by herself, especially since she’d have to cross the mountain. Her cousin had driven Chrissie up early that morning, then headed back to Chattanooga with a load of Savannah’s stuff. Chrissie had helped her pack the remainder of the things she’d accumulated in Nashville into the sedan she’d bought with the insurance money plus a chunk of her savings.

  She’d been so grateful for all Chrissie had done but at the moment she just wanted to scream at her friend’s interruption, because somehow she knew that nothing would ever be the same once she left Nashville. Charlie would move on with his life. She’d move on with her and the baby’s life. The closeness she felt with him at this moment would never again be.

  Maybe it was just as well that Chrissie had interrupted.

  Savannah smiled weakly at Charlie. “Timing has never been her strong suit, but I love her anyway.”

  “No, I imagine not.” But he didn’t take Savannah back into his arms, just stared down at her with so much emotion in his eyes that Savannah’s heart hurt. He recognized, just as she did, that nothing would ever be the same between them, that they’d never have this moment back.

  He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Goodbye, Savannah. Don’t forget to call when you go into labor.”

  She nodded. “I won’t forget.”

  “You want me to help you down to the car?”

  Giving him a wry smile, Savannah shook her head. “I got this.”

  She did. She would be just fine. She knew that. But just fine felt a little flat when she was looking at what could have been for the last time.

  “Thanks again.” With that, she said goodbye to Charlie.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SAVANNAH WENT BACK to work part-time the following week. Being out of work for over a month, the changes to her body during that time, had her worn out when she got home at night to where she crashed almost immediately. She worked a shift on, two shifts off to give her time to recover in between for the first few scheduled times back, possibly indefinitely until after the baby arrived. When she finished her fourth shift, she crashed onto her sofa and was so thankful she had the next two days off.

  “Is my grandbaby moving?”

  Savannah glanced at where her mother walked into the living room. Her mother had been a lifesaver over the past few weeks, checking on Savannah, making sure she ate. She’d brought over a plate of homemade goodies that night that Savannah had picked at before settling onto the sofa.

  “He or she is always moving, Mom. You wanna feel?”

  Her mother sat next to Savannah and placed her hand over her belly. “I can’t wait until I get to hold this baby.”

  Savannah smiled. “You’re going to be a great grandma.”

  “I am, aren’t I?” Her mother beamed, then her smile faded. “A much better grandmother than mother.”

  Savannah practically gawked. “What are you talking about? You were an amazing mother. I just hope I’m half as good.”

  “Oh, honey, hope for much more than that,” her mother urged, giving Sa
vannah’s stomach a love pat. “I was such a mess after your father died. I didn’t know if I was coming or going. I’ve often wondered if I scarred you for life.”

  “You were grieving Daddy. We both were a mess.”

  Her mother nodded. “We were and I channeled it into making sure you were everything I wasn’t.”

  “In what way?” Savannah asked, truly baffled.

  “I wanted to make sure you knew how to take care of yourself—that you never depended on a man the way I’d depended on your dad. Which in theory doesn’t sound so bad, but I think I was also trying to shield you from ever feeling the pain I felt at losing your dad.”

  “That’s not a bad thing.”

  “Not being able to feel that kind of pain means never loving like I loved your father.”

  “Pain is overrated.”

  Her mother shook her head. “Love is worth any amount of pain. Until you met Charlie, you never let anyone get close enough to hurt you.”

  “We see how that turned out.” Savannah sighed. “Not so well.”

  Her mother shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Without Charlie I wouldn’t be having this grandchild.” Her mother rubbed her belly and the baby moved, as if recognizing the spoiling this woman was someday going to do.

  “That’s true,” Savannah admitted. “But if not Charlie, then I would have met someone else, someone who could have loved me and our baby.”

  Her mother looked thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t understand a lot of the ins and outs of your relationship with Charlie, but I do recognize love when I see it.”

  She bit the inside of her lip. “You’re wrong.”

  “I don’t know,” her mother mused. “He sure went to a lot of trouble to take care of you after your wreck.”

  “That was guilt-driven.”

  “And that’s your pride talking,” her mother countered.

  Savannah’s gaze cut to her mother in shock.

  “Sometimes pride can get in the way of seeing the truth.”

  “My pride isn’t blinding me to anything.”

  “Except the truth,” her mother said softly.