by Lori Leger
He nodded and yawned again. “What time is it?”
“Two minutes to midnight. I want us to be awake to ring in our first Christmas together.”
His mouth spread in a slow smile. “I’m glad you did.” He pointed at the gift box. “Does this mean I can give you your gift too?”
Her lighthearted laughter filled the room. “Let’s save those for tomorrow morning. This is a gift for both of us.”
He frowned. “But you know what it is, that’s not very fair. I don’t know how much I like the rules of this game.”
She cocked her head and grinned. “I know what it is, but I haven’t seen the results.”
Zach shook his head. “Now I’m really confused.”
“Okay, Zach. You remember how you made me promise not to get the results of a pregnancy test without you by my side?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, this is it. The box contains results from the test. My cycle has been irregular the last few months so I decided to have a proper test and an examination. I was adamant about Doctor Brown not telling me a thing. Both he and his nurse were quiet as a mouse. So sit up and open it so we can see it together. It’s just like you told me earlier―good or bad―we’ll handle it together.”
Zach leaned forward and took the box in his hands, pulled on the delicate red and gold ribbon. He removed the gold foil covered lid, revealing a piece of folded paper. His stomach churned, filled with butterflies as he glanced at his wife, sensing how big this could be. “You really don’t know?”
She crossed her arms tightly across her chest and shook her head. “I really don’t.”
He paused, surprised at her reaction. For all of her claims to love surprises, he knew she didn’t particularly enjoy having to wait for them. She’d completely turned the tables on him with this little stunt. He unfolded the sheet of paper.
Cathryn clasped her hands tightly together. “Read it aloud, please.”
Zach cleared his throat and looked down at the paper. “To Mr. & Mrs. Zachary Ferguson—
Congratulations on the exciting news of your pregnancy.”
He beamed at Cathryn who clapped her hands and whooped just as she did at a hard earned Saints win. Glancing down, he continued reading.
“Enclosed you’ll find pictures from the first ultrasound of your―”
Zach stopped there and lifted his gaze to hers, his heart pounding in his chest, as adrenaline rushed though him.
Cathryn jumped up off the sofa, obviously too excited to contain herself. “Our what? Does it say the sex? I thought it was too soon for that.”
“You really don’t know?”
“No. What? Is it a boy or girl?”
Zach flipped the second slip of paper to stare at it, and then stood beside her. He slowly turned it so she could see.
She squinted at the paper until her mouth gaped open. “Is that … oh, oh my God … Zach.” She pulled the letter from his other hand and read the rest of it.
“… pictures from the first ultrasound of your twins. Your due date is on or near July 4th.”
She threw her arms around her husband’s neck as he picked her up by the waist and spun her around.
“Oh God, I can’t believe it.” She waited until he put her down and they stood staring into each other’s animated faces. “Dr. Brown said the home pregnancy tests sometimes miss if you’re not far along. From what this says I was already about a month pregnant when it showed the negative.”
“Talk about your shock and awe!” He ran both hands through his hair, unable to pull his gaze from his wife.
Cathryn raised her hands to her cheeks, already flushed and pink with excitement. “Are you as ecstatic and terrified of this as I am?”
He nodded. “I think so. I mean, ecstatic? Hell yeah, I’m ecstatic. But terrified? Eh, not so much as you, I think.”
“Why not? We don’t know a thing about bringing twins into the world.”
“We don’t know a thing about bringing a single baby into the world. We don’t have any expectations, nothing to compare it to. We’ll figure it all out for the first time, and we’ll do it just the way we heard the news. Together.”
She passed her hand slowly, lovingly down the side of his face. “How did I ever think I could spend my life without you by my side?”
He gave her his best sexy, crooked grin and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “I don’t know. How did you?” Zach leaned in to touch his forehead to hers. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Ferguson.”
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Ferguson.”
“Are you feeling okay, Cat?”
She nodded, before giving him a long and leisurely kiss. “I’m good, but I’m always better with you.”
Chapter 16
3:33 A.M. – March 4th – Lake Erin
Come back to me, Cat …
Cathryn McDaniel Ferguson woke from the dream, her face wet with tears, her soul heavy with sadness. Her gaze settled on the time, projected onto her bedroom ceiling from the alarm clock. A single sob tore through her before she could stop it. In seconds Zachary was upright, his hand on her shoulder and his voice filled with quiet concern.
“Cathryn? Are you all right?”
She clutched her husband’s hand, and pushed back another fast-approaching sob. Just a dream. “I-it-it was just a dream.” A nightmare.
“Again? Oh babe, come here. Let me hold you. She pushed at his hands. “I have to pee first.” She swung her legs off of the bed, trying to find her slippers.
His low chuckle came from somewhere in the darkness behind her. “Of course you do.”
“What’s your point?” She shuffled to the bathroom, still walking somewhat normally for a woman five months pregnant for twins.
“None. No point. None at all.”
She grinned as she emptied her bladder for the first of many times that day. By the time she reached the bed, Zach had the covers pulled back for her.
“Come on over here, Cat. Let me warm you up.” He hissed like a snake when her icy hands hit his warm abs, chiseled from eighteen years of hard work.
“Sorry. Water was ice cold when I washed my hands.”
He grunted. “S’okay, you’re worth it.”
“Aw, you say the sweetest things.”
“I have to lately, or else,” he mumbled.
“What?”
“Nothing, babe. Go back to sleep.”
She let it go, knowing good and damn well he was right. “I can’t, or I don’t want to.”
“Tell me about the dream.”
“I’d rather not.” She sensed the lift of his head off his pillow.
“That bad?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the memory of fighting to come back from something, or someplace—she didn’t know what or where. He pulled her closer and she curled into him, searching for the solace she found only in this man’s presence.
“Zach?”
“Hmm?”
She paused, searching for words to express her feelings. “Can you believe this is our life? I mean, a year and a half ago, I was getting ready to marry another man.”
“Until you realized he wasn’t me.”
She smiled. “No he wasn’t.”
“I know what you mean, though. It seems like we’ve had a lifetime of experiences just since you came back from Dallas. You realizing you couldn’t live without me—”
“And then waking from a coma and thinking I still loved Christian.”
He groaned. “Yeah, but luckily you got your senses back, and married the real man of your dreams.”
Dreams. Her chest tightened with an unsettling feeling.
“Don’t forget all that tedious, back-breaking effort we put into conceiving a child—”
Cat smiled in the darkness of their bedroom. “Ugh, I know, right? That was torture.”
“—only to discover we conceived two.” He nuzzled her neck. “We are such over achievers.” He kissed the top of her head when she didn’t answer. �
�You sure you don’t want to tell me about your dream?”
“I’m sure.”
“But if it’ll help to talk about—”
“I don’t want to, Zach.”
His large hand rubbed her back reassuringly. “Okay, babe.”
Fear, deep and penetrating, rose from the pit of her stomach. She was afraid to talk about the dream, afraid to acknowledge it, to give it a face, a voice of its own.
All she could do was hope and pray it never manifested into anything more substantial than a bad dream.
Chapter 17
May 5th – 31 weeks and 4 days into the pregnancy
Due date: July 4th (T minus 60 days and counting)
Cat Ferguson lay on her ob-gyn’s examination table with her taut, pregnant belly rising above her like a great, beached whale.
“Are you sure you don’t want to know the sex of your babies?”
She raised her head over the mound of belly, hoping her face showed her determination. “No! We want to be surprised—like in the old days.”
Dr. Brown smiled, as he always did at her answer. “All righty, then.” His silence as he read the remainder of the ultrasound report sent a chill of warning up Cat’s spine.
“Everything okay, Doc? When you suck on your lower lip like that, it usually means you’re about to give me a talking to. Blood pressure, sodium intake, feet swelling—you don’t see a third baby inside there, do you?”
He grinned as he straightened and adjusted the collar of his white lab coat. “And that, young lady, is why I don’t play poker.” He placed his hands on her belly and felt around. “No way is there room for a third. But the ultrasound shows the placenta placement lower than I’d like to see it. Not unusual for twins, but by this time it’s usually started to shift into a better position.”
He reached inside a drawer and handed her two pamphlets with diagrams. “This is where your placenta should be, in the upper left quadrant. Yours was low lying before, but at an acceptable distance. I had hopes that it would migrate higher, most do. But it’s migrated lower instead, to what we call a marginal placenta previa. It’s a complication common with multiple births.”
“What do you mean by migrate? Isn’t the placenta attached to the uterus?”
“It’s implanted, yes, but as the uterus expands and enlarges, the placenta grows toward the best blood supply in the upper quadrant. You’re fortunate it’s taken this long to get to this stage, normally it’s 20 weeks.”
“What does this mean for my babies?”
“It can lead to complications. If the placenta continues to drop, it might partially or completely cover the cervix, preventing the babies from entering the birth canal. Then you’d be looking at a Caesarean delivery to avoid a rupture.”
“I want a natural delivery. Are you certain about this?”
He patted her hand. “Nothing’s certain yet, Cathryn. But I want you to stay calm and take it easy the next two months. Don’t stand, when you can sit. Don’t sit when you have the opportunity to lie down, and put your feet up.” He checked her chart again. “How’s your water intake?”
“I’m drinking lots of water, and I’ve cut out all carbonated beverages. I’m also trying to stay away from sodium. If you knew how much I love eating boiled crawfish you’d know how difficult it’s been for me to pass it up this entire season.”
Her obstetrician’s face pulled down in a distinct frown. “I had to give it up a couple of years ago, myself. I know exactly where you’re coming from. If we’re invited to a crawfish boil, I skip it. If I didn’t, a team of wild horses couldn’t drag me away from that table until I’ve eaten my fill.”
Cat groaned. “Zach and I skipped another one this weekend.”
“Good man, at least he’s willing to skip them along with you. My wife tells me I’m on my own for a meal and goes anyway.”
She couldn’t stop the belly laugh from escaping. “Zachary wouldn’t dare go to one without me. He’d be far too afraid of the consequences.”
Doctor Brown released a low chuckle. “As well he should.” He gave her belly a final gentle pat then helped her to an upright position. “I want to see you again in a week. Until then, if you start having any pains or bleeding, call me immediately. If it’s heavy bleeding, get to the hospital right away. Oh, and I don’t want you driving, either.”
Cat closed her gaping mouth with a snap. “Seriously?”
“Absolutely. Driving can put a strain on that lower abdomen, believe it or not.”
“How about sexual relations?”
“No.”
“No restrictions?”
“No sex. No stimulation. No orgasms … it could trigger contractions, could partially dislodge the placenta. It’s a chain reaction.” He shook his head. “Sorry—wish I had better news for you.” He cocked his head to the side. “Do I need to get Zach in here to stress the importance of this? Some husbands think their wives are trying to get out of having sex.”
“No need for that. Zach wouldn’t do anything if it meant endangering these babies.” She stifled a disappointed groan. It would take an intense effort to keep her hands off her husband. But these consequences were far too serious to ignore. “When—I mean—if I’d go into premature labor, would my babies be in any danger of …”
“They’re totally viable with today’s medical advances. Twins are usually slightly smaller, but from what I can tell from the ultrasound results, your babies are good size. They’re already around 4 pounds each at this point. There may be some complications if the lungs aren’t fully formed, but if you threaten premature labor, I’ll suggest giving you a round of steroids to speed up the lung development. I doubt you’ll carry to full term, anyway, but if you deliver two weeks early, which is about right for twins …” He twisted his mouth in concentration. “I’d say we’re looking at babies somewhere in the five and a half to six pounds range. The longer before you go into labor, the better it is for your twins.”
She nodded, determined to follow his orders to the tee. “I drove over here by myself. Should I call someone to pick me up?”
Doctor Brown gave his head an adamant shake. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Go ahead and drive home, but keep in mind it’ll be your last time behind the wheel for a while.”
Chapter 18
May 15th – 33 weeks
T minus 50 days and counting
Zachary stood in front of the open freezer, checking out the offerings. “What do you feel like having for supper tonight, babe?”
Cat adjusted the pillow at her lower back, a constant source of pain for her. “What choices do we have?”
“Chicken, beef stew meat, pork sirloin roast, and chops. How about if I start up a beef stew in the slow cooker before I leave for the store?”
“That sounds excellent. Do we have any loaves of that frozen whole wheat bread left in there?”
Zach rummaged around in the freezer again. “I don’t see any, but I’m sure your mom won’t mind picking up a couple before she comes over this afternoon—especially if we invite both her and Doc Barton over for supper tonight.”
“They love your beef stew.”
“I know.” He sent his wife a big grin. “That’s because it’s out of this flippin’ world.” Zach pulled the pack of lean stew mean out of the freezer and popped it into the microwave for a quick defrost. He leaned over the sofa to give his wife a kiss, and continued to collect the ingredients for his stew: Potatoes, carrots, onions, celery, bell pepper, parsley and various seasonings. By the time he’d defrosted and browned the stew meat, he had all the vegetables ready to add to the slow cooker. A few shakes of black pepper and a low sodium Cajun seasoning, along with one bottle of his secret ingredient, and the stew had reached the do-not-disturb stage in the slow cooking process. He covered the pot, adjusted the heat setting to low, and went to join Cat on the sofa.
He pulled her into his arms for a kiss, one that reminded him it’d been two weeks since he’d made love to his wife. He le
aned forward to kiss her belly. Any sacrifice he made for the sake and safety of these two tiny lives, as well as the absolute love of his life, was totally worth it.
“God, I miss making love with you.”
“Don’t talk about it, Cat. It just makes it har—uh—more difficult. Let’s keep the goal in sight. In a month and half, we’ll have two healthy babies—two bouncing baby ‘somethings’ that are going to rob us of sleep for the next several months. That being said, I don’t want you forgetting how important you are to me, and how much I adore you.”
“I know you do. I feel it all day, every day. I love you so much, Zachary.” She kissed him, a long and lingering kiss that had them both aching with need.
He pulled away, planting a last kiss on her nose. “I’ve got to go now, babe. I have a huge truckload due today, and I’ll be busy as all hell unloading and organizing the rest of the afternoon.” He rose from the couch and pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll call your mom right now and ask her to pick up the frozen bread dough. You need anything before I go?”
“Nope. I’m fine.” She smiled as she watched him leave. Her cat, Chableu, jumped up beside her on the couch, purring for attention. “Sit, boy. Mama needs to get some writing done today or my publisher is going to cancel my contract.”
She managed to add another 1,000 words to her current Work In Progress, before her mother entered through the kitchen door.
“Hey, sweetie. How’s my girl doing today?”
“I’m fine—we’re all fine. I was actually able to get some work done this morning.”
“Is that the military novel you’re working on?” Ellen lowered two bags of groceries onto the kitchen table.
“Uh huh—I’m working on the closing scene. I should have it cleaned up enough to send to my editor by Monday.”
“Fabulous. And so are the smells coming out of that crock pot. What’s that husband of yours got cooking up today?”
“His famous beef stew—and you and Pops are invited to supper. Didn’t he tell you already?”
Ellen rummaged around in the pantry and came out with two loaf pans and the cooking spray. “He asked me to pick up this frozen bread dough. I’m putting it out to thaw and rise right now. Mmm … Gavin will be pleased. We love Zachary’s beef stew.”