by Rebecca Deel
“Micah, the baby.”
Heart in his throat, he pushed aside her hands. “Let me look, sweetheart.” He lifted her shirt away from the wound. Within seconds, his hands were slick with Sophie’s blood, but the terror dialed down a couple notches. A clean crease. Bled a lot, but not life threatening to her or the baby.
“The baby,” Sophie whispered.
“He’s fine, love. The bullet creased your side. Our son is okay.”
She shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. You need to take me to the hospital, Micah.” She flinched. “I’m in labor.”
Whatever blood he had circulating in his system dropped to his feet. Labor? “It’s not those practice ones?”
Sophie bit her lip, her eyes swimming with tears. “My water broke before Abbott shoved me away from him. Oh, Micah, it’s too early. I don’t want to lose Nathan.”
“We won’t lose him. Vanderbilt is one of the best hospitals in the world. We’ll hold him a little sooner than planned. Hold on, love.” Micah grabbed his cell and punched in Brent’s number even as he glanced at Lily. She waved away his perusal, still inching toward Abbott’s weapon. “It’s Micah. How far away are you?”
“Two minutes. What do you need?”
“Your medic and a fast escort to Vanderbilt Hospital.”
In the background, he heard his new boss give the driver orders to move. “Micah, sit rep. You hit?”
“Sophie.” He swallowed hard. “Brent, she’s also in labor.”
“Abbott?”
“Dead. Lily’s injured. Abbott knocked her out. Looks like a concussion. She’s awake.”
“Good. One minute. Coming in the back door now. Head to the back stairs, Micah. I’ll carry Sophie out. You help Lily.”
Micah hated the necessity of this arrangement even as he recognized the wisdom in his friend’s suggestion. He prayed Lily was mobile enough that he wouldn’t have to carry her to the SUV.
Micah shoved his phone back in his carrier. “Brent’s here. Vanderbilt’s the next stop.”
“Okay.” Sophie waved her hand in Abbott’s direction. “What about him? The police will want to question you.”
“They’ll know where to find me. I’m not leaving your side.”
“Micah.” Brent raced into the room with another member of his security team. He squatted beside Sophie. “I hear you’re about to make me an honorary uncle.” Brent slid one arm under her knees, one behind her back and lifted her against his chest. “Don’t worry, beautiful. We’ll get you and my nephew to the hospital in plenty of time.”
“What about the roads?” Sophie cringed. Another contraction? Micah’s heart squeezed. How far apart were they? More nightmare visions of delivering his own son in route to the hospital danced in front of his eyes.
“I’m from Michigan. We get real snow and ice up there. This is nothing.” Brent nodded at his teammate. “Keep everyone out. Cops should be on scene soon.” He turned and headed for the doorway.
“Micah.” Sophie sounded panicked.
“I’m right behind you, baby.”
Brent said, “SUV is parked at the back door.”
“Right.” Micah considered the strength of his injured leg. He eyed Lily, propped against the far wall. “Can you stand? It will be easier for me to pick you up from that position.”
“Let me try walking,” she said, disgust evident in her tone. “Every step I can make it is one less you’ll have to bear my weight. Plus I’ll never hear the end of it if my teammates find out I acted like a girl from a concussion.”
“Got that right, G.I. Jane. You always give us grief when we’re injured.” A dark-haired Cajun lounged with one shoulder against the doorframe, amusement dancing in his gaze. “Guess it’s your turn.”
“Shut up, Remy,” Lily snapped.
“Aw, now. Your boo-boo won’t even leave a scar that shows. No bragging rights for you.”
Despite the good-natured ribbing, Remy assessed Lily’s sluggish movements as she climbed to her feet and crossed to Micah, wavering every few steps. No doubt he would have picked her up and carried her to the SUV if he thought she couldn’t make it under her own power.
Micah clasped her arm in a firm grip as they negotiated the stairs and hallway to the outside door. A few bobbles and two flights of stairs later, he lifted her into the SUV and climbed in beside his wife. The next thirty minutes comprised the most harrowing ride of Micah’s life. Jackson Conner, a former Navy SEAL medic, kept up a calm, steady dialogue with Sophie as he worked to stop the bleeding from her side and monitor the increasing contractions.
“How’s she doing?” Brent asked.
“She’s a tough little thing, tougher than some of my SEAL teammates. Bleeding has stopped from the gunshot wound. Bullet just kissed her. Sophie will have a battle scar to go along with the stretch marks. Just think, Sophie. You’ll have the best birthing story of any mother.”
Sophie’s laughter dissolved into a groan as another contraction hit.
“Vanderbilt’s on standby,” Brent said. “They know we’re coming in hot.”
“Hold on, baby.” Micah brushed a strand of hair away from Sophie’s sweaty forehead. “Just a few minutes more.” He didn’t miss the worried look on Jackson’s face and the silent communication between him and Brent. Nor did he miss Brent’s response as the SUV barreled faster down the interstate toward downtown Nashville.
The roads had frozen into a solid sheet of ice and made driving a near impossibility. His friend’s driving ability lived up to his claims. Brent negotiated one controlled slide after another until they finally reached Vanderbilt Hospital’s emergency entrance.
In the backseat with Sophie on his lap, huddled against his chest, Micah handed her to the medical attendants waiting to lift her to the gurney. She reached for his hand.
He climbed out of the SUV and hurried alongside the medical personnel. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.” Micah stayed beside her through the swift journey to the emergency room.
The medical team moved with the precision of a well-oiled machine. They hooked up various monitors, including one across her stomach. Micah stepped back to allow medical personnel access to Sophie while staying in her line of sight.
The doctor asked Sophie a series of questions as he watched the monitors. Moments later, he motioned Micah to Sophie’s side. “We need to do a C-section. The baby is showing signs of distress.”
“Fine. Anything,” Sophie said, tears trailing down her cheeks. “Just save our son.”
“That’s the plan.” The doctor signaled to the medical team and they whisked Sophie out the door and down the hall. He turned to Micah. “Give them a few minutes to get her prepped for surgery. You want to be in the operating room for the birth?”
Micah’s eyebrows rose. “That’s allowed? Oh, yeah. I want to be there.” He wanted to welcome his son into the world. Tears blurred his eyes for a moment. If something went wrong, he hoped on some level Nathan would know his father was there, willing him to live.
“Good. This is Dora.” He nodded at the nurse who walked in the door. “She’s going to get you ready.”
Minutes later, gowned and masked, Micah walked into the frigid operating room. Sophie lay on the table, anesthetist by her head. He nodded at Micah. “Mr. Winter, stand on your wife’s right side, okay? Hold her hand if you want, but don’t look over the drape. We’d rather not have to scrape you off the floor. Our focus needs to be on Mrs. Winter and the baby.”
“No problem.” Micah swallowed hard and grasped Sophie’s hand. “You okay, baby?”
Tears rolled into Sophie’s hairline. “Better now that you’re here.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, Sophie. I love you.”
The doctor bustled into the room. “All right, people. Let’s get going. The Winters want to meet their new son.”
Within minutes, a baby’s cry split the near silence of the operating room. The doctor chuckled. “He doesn’t like the cold world w
e introduced him to. Wrap him up and let Mrs. Winter hold him for a minute.”
Dazed, Micah watched as a nurse wrapped his son in a blanket and laid him on Sophie’s chest. As soon as she cuddled him close and talked to him, Nathan stopped crying. Micah blinked away the mist gathering in his eyes at the sight of his son in his mother’s arms.
“He’s beautiful, Micah,” Sophie whispered.
“He is amazing. Thank you, sweetheart, for giving me the second best gift I could ask for.” Though he longed to hold Nathan himself, he wanted the medical personnel to evaluate him, make sure he was healthy.
“What could be better than Nathan?”
“You.”
“Congratulations, Mr. Winter.” The doctor nodded at the nurse hovering nearby. “We need to examine him, but if everything checks out, would you like to carry him to the nursery?”
“Absolutely.”
“Why don’t you watch your son with the nurses while I do more work on your wife.”
Micah tore his gaze away from his son to eye the doctor. “Sophie’s okay, isn’t she?”
“This is normal repair work, I promise you. Makes most people squeamish to watch, though.”
“Micah,” Sophie said. “I’m fine. Keep an eye on Nathan.”
He crossed the operating room, trailing the nurse cuddling his now squalling son. He barely noticed the measuring and testing process. Nothing distracted him from watching the miracle in front of him.
At last, the nurse handed Nathan to Micah. “He looks good, Dad. Let’s take him to the nursery so they can clean him up and get him warm.”
He cradled Nathan close, the small, perfect features holding endless fascination. He was so tiny, fragile. Micah wondered which of them Nathan would resemble. He and David had looked alike when they were kids. His son might carry more than David’s name. The thought constricted his breathing.
“How long have you and your wife been married?”
He swallowed past the knot lodged in his throat. “A few hours.”
The nurse stumbled to a halt. “Hours?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She laughed, eyes twinkling. “Bet you’ll never forget this day.”
“You have no idea.”
#
Sophie watched the door to the hospital corridor. Where were they? How long could a trip to the nursery take? Uneven footsteps sounded in the hall and she recognized Micah’s limping cadence. A light tap and he pushed open the door. He grinned, eyes sparkling.
“What’s funny and where’s Nathan?”
“He’s in the nursery enduring a bath. He’s not enjoying the process and is letting the world know about it. Nathan might be early, but he’s got a set of lungs on him.”
“He looks okay?”
Micah leaned over the bed and kissed her. “He’s perfect, love. You’ll see for yourself in a few minutes. The nurse will bring him soon.” He dragged a chair close to her hospital bed and cradled her hand in his. “How do you feel, baby?”
“Tired, but good.” She raised her arm, motioning toward the IV in her hand. “They’re giving me pain meds. What about you?”
He shrugged. “I’ll live.”
A knock sounded on the open door. “Okay for me to visit, kids?”
Sophie waved Brent inside. “How’s Lily?”
“Massive headache from a concussion. She’s giving the doc grief about keeping her overnight for observation and she’s grumpy. I’d say G.I. Jane will make a full recovery. Remy is keeping an eye on her, though. Doing okay, beautiful?”
“Peachy.”
“And my nephew?”
She scowled. “I don’t know. Ask Micah. I haven’t seen him since Micah took him to the nursery.”
“Yeah?” He shifted his attention to Micah, lips twitching.
“Nathan passed all of his tests with flying colors and he’s very vocal about not liking a bath.”
Brent laughed and crossed the room to kiss on Sophie’s forehead. “Nice. Jackson will be happy to hear you’re both doing well. That big, tough Navy SEAL medic paced the waiting room, worried about you and the baby. Nothing scares that man, Sophie. Who knew an eight pound infant would reduce a six foot six battle-hardened warrior to mush?”
“Tell him thanks for me,” Sophie said. “He was amazing. He acted so calm, like he delivered babies on a daily basis.” In truth, Jackson ranked with Micah on her hero meter. The SEAL might have been rattled by the situation, but he never gave away his misgivings.
Micah’s new boss rolled his eyes. “You didn’t see him weak kneed in the parking lot. I’ll pass the message though it will make his head swell. He’ll claim responsibility for the good outcome although I’m sure it had more to do with my superb driving.”
Her husband chuckled. “I have to admit. Your skill behind the wheel lived up to your hype.”
“I’m a man of many talents.” Brent’s expression sobered. “There are two detectives waiting at the end of the hallway. They want to interview you and Sophie. We can head them off, but it might muddy the situation. If Sophie’s not up to it, we’ll make sure the interview doesn’t happen tonight.”
Micah dragged a hand over his face, his expression grim. “I’ll talk to them.” He turned to Sophie. “They’ll want to interview us separately, baby. Do you feel up to dealing with them tonight?”
Sophie wanted to refuse, but knew the interview had to happen soon. What charges would Micah face in saving her and the baby? For that matter, what about her? She opened the safe and took Nelda’s jewelry for the crooked cop. The thought of not being able to hold Nathan for years made her physically ill. “I’ll talk to them.”
Brent left the room. Micah squeezed her hand, drawing Sophie’s attention to him. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Sophie. Don’t worry.”
“I opened the safe, Micah. They’ll want to know how I knew the combination.”
“Tell them you’re a friend of Nelda’s and had returned some jewelry to the safe after your sister painted her portrait.”
So simple. Truth, yet not all of it. “What will happen to you?” That, more than any other thought, terrified her. What if he ended up in jail because of her?
“I’ll be fine. Abbott didn’t give me a choice and he was in the process of kidnapping you. I have witnesses. Now that we know who was behind the threat to you, Brent’s team can backtrack and get the evidence we need for local law enforcement.”
The echo of footsteps gave her a few seconds to kiss him. “I love you, Micah. Thank you for saving us.”
He returned the kiss with equal gentleness. “Nothing means more to me than you and our son. I love you both more than I ever thought possible in a few days’ time. You complete me, Sophie, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing you what a treasure you are to me.”
Tears welled in her eyes as a knock sounded on the door. Sophie dragged her blurred gaze from her husband’s face to stare at the men crowding the doorway to her hospital room. Dread swelled in her stomach at their hard, angry glares. A shiver wracked her frame.
Micah threaded his fingers through hers in a show of solidarity. “Come in, Detectives. I’m Micah Winter. This is my wife, Sophie.”
She enjoyed the warmth sweeping through her at the word ‘wife.’ Another thought seeped into her musings. Before too many months, Nathan would call her ‘Mom.” What a difference a week made.
“You left the scene of a crime, Winter,” the tall blond detective said, a bite to his tone. “Being Secret Service doesn’t give you the right to toss out laws you don’t want to follow when they aren’t convenient.”
“And yet you knew exactly where to find me, didn’t you? Sophie was my priority, not a dirty cop.”
Fury burned in both men’s eyes. “That allegation is unproven,” snapped the shorter, red-haired man. “Let’s go, Winter. You can give me the details at the station.”
“No. We do this here in an empty room or a staff lounge. I’m not leaving this hospital. My wife and son a
re still in danger.”
“You refusing to cooperate? You don’t have jurisdiction, Winter, and this ain’t a federal case. You can only push your luck so far without landing behind bars and I’d be happy to slap the cuffs on for your journey downtown.”
The tension in the room made it hard to breathe. She brushed her thumb over his knuckles, a silent admonishment to dial back. Then again, what did she know about law enforcement politics?
Blond hair snorted. “Oh, come on. Your alleged dirty cop adversary is dead by your own hand. You telling me he’s still strolling around this hospital as a zombie to take them out?”
Micah’s fingers tightened on Sophie’s. “Gang’s got a contract on me. Call my supervisor to confirm. Family members of the punk who shot me a few weeks ago would prefer I stop breathing permanently. I don’t want Sophie and Nathan to be collateral damage.”
Red hair exchanged a long look with his partner before he pulled out a small notebook and pen. “Supervisor’s number?”
Micah gave him the contact information and said, “Sophie had major surgery. Brent is staying with her while I talk to whoever drew the short straw with me. If Sophie says she’s tired, you stop and pick up the interview tomorrow. If Brent thinks she’s had enough, you stop and continue tomorrow. If you don’t, Brent will be happy to help you remember your manners. Are we clear?”
Sophie tightened her grip on her husband’s hand. If she didn’t already love him, that defiant speech would have done it for sure. No one in her family had ever stood up for her. Even her twin had made her the scapegoat too many times to count. How did she end up so blessed?
“We’re on the same side, Winter,” Blond hair muttered.
“Yeah? How do I know Abbott didn’t have a partner in the department? What if it was one of you?”
That statement had Sophie dragging in a quiet breath. No wonder he was so protective. She’d never thought about Detective Abbott possibly having a partner. But wouldn’t the partner have been at Nelda’s as well?