“I’ll see what I can do.” He started to stand but she had a viselike grip on his arm.
“Don’t leave me alone.”
“Mom is here. She’ll stay with you, and I’ll go check on the baby.” It was her baby. He leaned, found her face and brushed the soft tendrils back. He kissed her cheek. “I’ll make sure he’s okay and be right back.”
“Mr. Cooper.” A nurse stood behind him. “I can take you to the NICU to see your son.”
He started to correct her but he didn’t. Instead he took the arm she offered and followed her down the hall. He tried to keep track of steps, of turns. His mind whirled, wondering where he would end up—not today but tomorrow, next week.
They stopped. The nurse moved his hands to the cold metal of a sink. “Wash your hands and I’ll get you a gown.”
“Thank you.” He slid his hand around the edge of the sink, found the levers and turned on the water to wash his hands. He remembered how simple a task it used to be, to wash his hands. He remembered how simple it used to be to walk down a hall and get where he needed to go.
He shook off the thoughts as the nurse walked up behind him, touching his shoulder.
“Here we go.” She helped him into a gown, putting it on over his shirt.
“Once again, thank you.” He managed a smile.
“You’re welcome.” She took his arm and led him through the room. “Here he is. The bed is open and heated. You can touch him.”
“How is he?”
“He’s only five pounds, but he’ll be okay. His lungs are strong and so is his heart. It’s just the stress of the last twelve hours or so that has made him a little weak so he needs extra help breathing.”
“She’ll want to know what he looks like and if he has hair.” He knew because women always wanted to know about those things. “Ten fingers? Ten toes?”
“Well, Reese Donovan Cooper has very little hair. It’s blond, like his mom’s. Sorry, Dad.” She touched Reese’s back. “And he’s very cute.”
“I’m not...” And then he paused because he didn’t want to tell her that he wasn’t the dad. “She named him after me?”
“That’s the name she gave us.” The nurse patted his back. “Surprised?”
“Yes, surprised.” He stepped closer to the bed. “I can touch him?”
“Of course you can. I’ll help you out.” She guided his hand, and he felt the tiny arm of the little boy with his name, and then he felt his head, his feet. “My brother was in the military in Iraq.”
He turned to face her, wishing he could see her face. “Afghanistan.”
“My brother lost his leg.” She moved his hand to the baby’s tiny hand. “He’s a lawyer now.”
“That’s good.”
“What are your plans?”
“Surviving.” He said it without thinking and then realized the truth in that statement. “And helping other veterans find a place to regroup. We’re going to use Camp Hope in Dawson.”
“That’s amazing.” She touched his arm. “He’s awake and his little eyes are on you.”
“When will Cheyenne be able to see him?”
“I’m not sure. I think as soon as the two are stable.”
“Are you a praying person?” he asked her.
“I am and I’ll pray for your wife and son.” The nurse had stepped away, but she moved back to his side.
Now was the time for truth, but he couldn’t face it. The little fingers curled around his finger. The tiny grasp might as well have been around his heart. There were a lot of things that could take a man to his knees. Most included force. Reese shook his head, amazed that a baby had that kind of power.
Chapter Thirteen
Cheyenne awoke with a start. Her whole body ached. Her head spun. She opened her eyes and turned, searching for Reese...always for Reese. She saw him asleep in the chair next to her bed. She’d been moved to a room. She didn’t remember.
But she had a baby. After his birth she’d watched as a doctor and nurse took care of him, measuring him, weighing him, examining him. And she’d waited for the moment when they would put him in her arms. But instead they’d left with him. They’d taken him away before she could touch him.
“Reese.”
He nodded and opened his eyes. “I’m here.”
“I know.” She wanted him to always be there, but she wouldn’t be like the girls who had begged him not to leave them. “What day is it?”
“Same day, different hour. It’s Thursday evening.”
“How is my baby?”
“He’s good.” Reese moved in the chair. He sat up and then stood. She watched him stretch and then he walked to the bed. “Cheyenne, his name...”
She touched the hand that rested on the rail of the bed. “I wanted to name him after you. You’ve done so much for us.”
“Thank you. I just— I had no idea.”
“What does he...?” She stopped and closed her eyes tight. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I knew you would want to know what he looked like, so I asked the nurse.” He stroked her fingers and he smiled. Her heart wrapped around that smile, memorizing it and how perfect it made this moment. “He has blond hair—not a lot but some. It feels like down. They say his eyes are blue like yours, and the nurse who is an expert, it seems, says the color will stick. And he’s small, Cheyenne. They have him off the respirator and on oxygen. That’s a good thing.”
She moved in the bed. “I have to go to him. I need to hold him and be with him.”
“No, you need to stay in bed so that you can get healthy and be there for him. Cheyenne, this is serious. You have eclampsia and you had a seizure before they could do the delivery.” He ran a hand down her arm. “I’ll keep an eye on him and you’ll see him soon, but you need to take care of yourself, too.”
“I need to hold my baby.” She hadn’t wanted to cry, but tears trickled down her cheeks and emotion tightened in her chest. “I need to see him.”
“I’ll have Mom take me down to get a picture of him. And you have company waiting to see you.”
“Company?”
“Yep. So hang on and I’ll get them. And I’ll be back soon with the pictures.”
She didn’t want him to go. She reached for his hand, but he already had his cane out and walked easily toward the door. A minute later she heard footsteps and quiet voices. She closed her eyes and waited.
“Cheyenne.” The voice was familiar. She opened her eyes, stunned, unable to take a deep breath.
“Mom.”
The woman in front of her had aged. So had her father, who stood at the door, waiting. They were older. She was older. But their smiles were genuine. She didn’t know what to say. It had been ten years.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, covering her face with her hands.
“Shh.” Her mom stepped close to the bed and then gathered her in a long-forgotten hug, forgotten because for so many years Cheyenne had pushed aside the good memories and held on to the bad. She had kept the memories that validated her anger. She’d forgotten the pleas, the love, the forgiveness.
“We’re so glad you’re safe. And we’re sorry for anything we did to hurt you.”
“I...” She shook her head because now wasn’t the time to tell them what she had believed. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“So are we. And you have a beautiful son and a wonderful husband. We’re so happy for you.”
“Thank you.” She held tight to her mother’s hand. “You were right.”
“It doesn’t matter. It was never about who was right. It was about wanting you to be safe and happy.” Her mom touched her hair. “And I’m so glad to see this.”
Her blond hair. She smiled because it had taken a lot of work to get the black dye out of her hair.
They talked for a while, and then she heard footsteps in the hall and people talking, laughing. She glanced past her parents as Reese walked through the door with his mother.
“We have photographs.” Re
ese held up the camera. “I took them myself.”
“Funny.” Cheyenne reached for the camera, her hand shaking. She held it close and smiled at the image of the tiny baby boy. He was stretched out in a bed, tubes and wires all around him. It was her baby.
“Isn’t he a handsome guy?” Jesse walked through the door with another doctor behind him. “This is Dr. Reaves. He delivered Reese this afternoon.”
Cheyenne looked from the picture to the doctor who approached her bed. He held out his hand. “Hi, Cheyenne. Nice to see you conscious.”
“I owe you all so much.” Cheyenne glanced around the room. Her gaze lingered on the man next to her and then on Reese.
“You did the hard work.” Dr. Reaves patted her arm. “Now, what you need to know is that your blood pressure is still relatively high. I’m not making any moves to get you out of this bed for now. Tomorrow, if everything goes well, we’ll put you in a chair and take you down to see your little boy. And if he continues to improve, the next day we’ll bring him up here to room in for a couple of days.”
“I can handle that plan.”
“Good.” Dr. Reaves smiled at everyone. “But don’t expect to feel great—not for a few weeks.”
“I understand.”
“If there’s anything you need, let the nurses know and I can always be contacted.”
“I appreciate that.”
He patted her hand one last time. “Enjoy that little boy of yours. He’s strong and healthy. He just has a few small obstacles.”
“Obstacles?” she whispered after Dr. Reaves left. Jesse stepped forward.
“He’s had a hard couple of days. He’s small, and oxygen is helping him to rest, to not work so hard.”
“I understand.” She covered her eyes with her hands. “I’m just so tired.”
“Rest.” Jesse touched her shoulder. “Take a few minutes to visit with your family and then get some sleep.”
She nodded, still holding her hands over her face, trying to pull it together before she lost it completely. It was too much to think about: her baby, somewhere in this hospital, needing her. Reese was one step away from walking out of her life and she had no right to hold on to him.
“Cheyenne, we’re going to our hotel. We’ll be back in the morning.” Her mom leaned over and kissed her cheek. And then her dad touched her head, stroked her hair back. Cheyenne nodded but she couldn’t respond.
After they left, Reese stepped forward. He messed with the rail on the bed and finally got it down. Cheyenne watched, not sure what to say.
“Reese?”
“I need to hold you.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”
She leaned into his side, grimacing past the sharp pain in her abdomen. His arms wrapped around her.
“You’re going to be okay.”
“Am I?”
“I promise.” He rubbed her arm, holding her close.
“I’m afraid.”
“So am I.” He kissed her cheek and then held her for a long moment. “Better?”
“Yes.” Amazingly so. A minute in his arms and she felt like she could get through the next twenty-four, even forty-eight, hours.
“I’m going to be here. I’m not going anywhere.”
She nodded, still resting her head on his shoulder.
She sighed when he moved away, returning to his chair next to the bed. She thought about mentioning the annulment. For his sake she had to bring it up. She couldn’t—yet.
* * *
Reese woke up early and found a nurse who could help him make his way to the NICU. Cheyenne was still asleep. He knew she’d rest better if she woke up and he had a report on her son. The nurse led him to the bed where his namesake slept. A pediatrician joined them. She introduced herself.
“How is he this morning?” Reese reached, found the baby and stroked his arm.
“He’s good. He’s breathing on his own but we’re giving him oxygen indirectly. There’s a tube near his face. He really is very healthy.” The doctor reached past him, adjusting something. “He woke up when he heard you. He must recognize your voice.”
Reese nodded and found the hand that curled around his finger. How did he keep them in his life? He stroked the little hand and said a prayer.
“We’ll wean him off the oxygen this evening. We’ll monitor his blood oxygen levels to see how he does, as well as his heart rate. But he’s clear of infections. His urine output is good. He’s doing very well.” The pediatrician rested her hand on his shoulder. “Do you want to hold him?”
He did, but he couldn’t. “I think Cheyenne should hold him first.”
“Then sit here awhile. I’ll pull up a chair. You can talk to him and touch him. These babies really need contact with their parents. That’s what helps them get stronger faster.”
He heard the chair being pulled close. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Stay as long as you want.”
Reese considered telling her he wasn’t the father. Instead he sat next to Reese Donovan Cooper, touching his small hand and telling him what a lucky kid he was going to be. He promised to teach him to ride and rope someday. Maybe they would go riding together.
After a long time he walked out of the NICU. In the hall he stopped to get his bearings. Right turn, down the hall and to the left. He tapped his cane against the wall to keep himself on track.
As he walked down the hall, footsteps approached. “Reese?”
He paused, unsure of the voice. “Yes?”
“It’s me, Mrs. Jones.”
“I just checked on your grandson.” He smiled and waited.
“He isn’t your son, is he?”
Reese kept walking, swinging the cane in front of him. She stepped beside him.
“I think you should have this conversation with Cheyenne.” He stopped. “Is there a place where we can sit?”
“I’m sorry, yes, of course. Over here.” She took his arm and led him a short distance. “Here’s a seat.”
“Thank you.” He felt for the seat and she took the chair next to his. “Cheyenne needs time to tell you her story. And ours. But trust me. She needs you.”
“I wish she had trusted us more. I know what she thinks. I know she believes we were sorry we adopted her. We probably said things we shouldn’t have. But we love Cheyenne. We never wanted her to leave.”
“I think you’ll have to tell her that yourself.”
“What about you, Reese? Do you love our daughter?”
He smiled and stood. “I have to get back to her room. She’s going to want an update on her son.”
“Reese, I’m not sure what’s going on, but I hope you stay in her life.”
“Me, too.” He took a step, ending the conversation.
“I’ll walk with you.”
“Thank you.”
They walked the short distance to Cheyenne’s room and her mom touched his arm. “You go on in. I know she’s wanting to see you and we were just in with her.”
He nodded, touched her arm as he stepped away and then he walked through the door into the quiet hospital room. The TV was on and the volume was low. He touched the bed and Cheyenne’s hand covered his.
“I’m awake. Have you seen him?”
“I have. He’s doing really well. They’re going to try weaning him off the oxygen this evening. How are you feeling?”
“They woke me up and made me stand. It wasn’t pleasant.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t.” He reached, found a chair and pulled it close. “Maybe they’ll let you go down to see him.”
“I hope so.” She sighed. “Reese, we have to talk. It’s time to talk.”
“No, it isn’t. You’re still recovering and we have time.”
“But I can’t do this. I can’t pretend you’re always going to be here for me.”
“There are people who will always be there for you, Cheyenne. Not everyone in life is going to let you down.” He brushed his thumb across her hand. “I’m going
to do everything I can for you.”
“I’m too tired, Reese. I’m too tired to fight. Too tired to have dreams. I want to get my baby and go home.”
“Where’s home?”
She turned in the bed. He heard the rustle of sheets, her body moving. “I’m not sure right now.”
A noise in the hall interrupted the conversation. Reese smiled because he knew that voice, knew those steps. “Granny Cooper is on her way.”
Cheyenne laughed a watery sounding laugh. He touched her shoulder and she rolled back toward him. “I’m sorry for being so emotional.”
“You have a right to be emotional.”
High heels clicked on the floor behind him. He waited, smiling, because he knew his granny had business to attend to if she was wearing heels. And he could guess what the business would be about.
“Reese, Cheyenne. Don’t you two look happy?”
“We’re tired, Gran.” Reese smiled up at her. She patted his shoulder. “You’re out early, though.”
“Well, of course I am. I have a new great-grandchild. And you need to shave.”
“I’m sure I do.” He ran a hand across his cheek, feeling three days of not taking time to shave.
“Well, I’m not here to nag you about shaving. I’m here because I have a gift for Cheyenne.”
Reese stood. “You can have my chair.”
“No, thank you.” Granny Cooper mumbled to herself for a minute. She crumpled papers, made a few more noises and then, “Ah, there it is. I thought I lost it.”
“What is it?” Reese held out his hand.
“Not for you. For Cheyenne.” Granny Cooper pushed his hand aside. “Cheyenne, this was my great-aunt’s. It’s been in the family for years and I want you to have it. I must admit, I’m afraid with all of these grandkids of mine I’m going to run out of heirloom rings to give out, but I want you to have this one because my great-aunt was a remarkable lady who married a man she met through correspondence. They had six children and were together for sixty years.”
“I can’t take this ring, Myrna,” Cheyenne whispered, and Reese wondered which ring his grandmother had given her.
“May I see it?” He held out his hand. Cheyenne placed the ring in his hand. He brushed his fingers over the ornate setting. “The ruby-and-diamond ring.”
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