by Ginna Gray
"Do you think it's possible?"
"You won't know until you try, will you?" When Sean didn't answer, Matt gave an impatient sigh. "Look, Joanna is staying with us until after the baby is born. Why don't you come home with me for dinner and talk to her?"
It was tempting. Very tempting. Sean looked at his friend searchingly, torn between doubt and longing.
What if I'm just kidding myself? Seeing something because it's what I want to see?
Finally, a look of determination tightened his face. Pushing back his chair, Sean stood up and tossed some bills on the table. "Let's go."
* * *
"Matt's home," Claire announced as they saw the car headlights flash by and continue on to the barn.
Standing by the sink preparing a salad, Joanna looked up and had to suppress a grin when she saw the way her mother's face had lit up. Her amusement grew as she watched Claire quickly dry her hands, then fluff her curls and smooth imaginary wrinkles from her maternity smock before going to the back door to greet him. Shaking her head, Joanna returned her attention to the celery she was dicing. She'd never known two people that much in love.
Joanna heard the door open and felt the blast of frigid air against her back, but, discreetly, she didn't turn around.
Matt's "Hello, darling" was followed by a few seconds of heady silence that signaled a lingering kiss.
"Mmm. How's my favorite pregnant lady?" he asked finally in a caressing voice.
"Still pregnant."
"Good. Uh...as you can see, I brought company for dinner. You don't mind, do you?"
"I... why no. No, of course not." Claire rushed to assure him. "Uh... Joanna, darling, look who's here."
The note of uncertainty in her mother's voice, as much as the request, brought Joanna around to face them, but her smile of greeting froze and faded away when she spotted Sean.
He was standing beside Matt, watching her in that intent way of his, still and silent, waiting for her to say something. Joanna felt as though an iron fist had knocked all the wind from her body. Her eyes skittered to Matt. How could you? How could you, they asked silently. She had thought he cared about her. Didn't he know how much this would hurt?
Joanna felt panic welling up inside her like a geyser. She couldn't endure, an evening of polite conversation with Sean, act like he was no more than an old family friend. She couldn't.
With a silent plea, her gaze went to Claire. In her eyes Joanna saw compassion, in the regal lift of her head an unspoken call for courage. Joanna's jaw clenched and her hands curled into tight fists. Every muscle in her body quivered with the urge to flee, but from somewhere she found the strength to battle it down. Tilting her own chin in a way that unconsciously mirrored Claire's elegant dignity, she stepped forward and said calmly, "Hello, Sean."
"Joanna," he replied with a nod, still watching her with that disconcerting intensity.
Even in the midst of shock and panic, Joanna's mind registered a myriad of irrelevant details about him: his upturned overcoat collar, the tiny pieces of sleet peppered across his shoulders and in his blue-black hair, the look of fatigue around his eyes and the deeper lines that bracketed his mouth, the faint shadow of beard, the scent of cold winter night that clung to him. He looked tired, worried and unhappy. Even so, to Joanna's aching, lovelorn heart he looked wonderful.
More than anything, she wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she couldn't. Sean was lost to her. She had to accept that, and she would. Someday she would be able to look at him without feeling as though her heart had just been ripped from her chest. But not now. Not yet. It was too soon.
"Here, let me take your coats," Claire said, breaking into the tense silence. "While Joanna sets another place at the table you two go wash up. Dinner will be ready by the time you're finished."
For Joanna, sitting across the table from Sean was exquisite, excruciating torture. While the others talked she kept her eyes on her plate and moved the food around with her fork. Her stomach felt as though it were tied in a hard knot, and throughout the meal she only managed to choke down a half-dozen bites.
Sean regaled Matt and Claire with stories about the cruise, telling them about the people they'd met, the places and things they'd seen. With his teasing, devilish charm, he managed to make incidents that had been only mildly amusing sound hilariously funny. The others laughed uproariously, but every word tore at Joanna's heart and scraped her nerves raw.
Several times Sean tried to draw her into the conversation, but she spoke only when he asked her a direct question, and then she kept her replies as brief as possible. She could feel his gaze burning into her, but she refused to look at him. All she wanted was for the interminable evening to end, for a chance to escape to her room and cry.
To Joanna's vast relief, after the meal the men retired to the den, leaving her and Claire to deal with the dishes. Knowing that they would join them as soon as they were through, Joanna worked with meticulous care, drawing out the task as long as possible. When at last everything was put away and the dishwasher was chugging monotonously, she started to sweep the kitchen, but after only two swipes Claire took the broom from her.
"I know what you're trying to do," she said, giving her a mildly reproving look. "But, sweetheart, it's pointless. You can't hide in the kitchen forever."
Panicked defiance flared in Joanna's eyes for an instant, then faded as her shoulders dropped. "I don't want to go in there, Mother. I can't."
"Yes, you can, Joanna. I know it's hard, but it's something you must face and accept, because the problem isn't going to go away. Sean is a dear friend of ours. He has always been welcome in this house, and he always will be. Unless there's something you're not telling me." Claire cocked her head to one side and gave Joanna a long, thoughtful look. "Should we be angry with Sean? Has he done something unforgivable?"
"No, of course not." Pressing her lips together in a grim line, Joanna sighed her defeat. "And you're right. It's time to stop running away."
"That's my girl." Claire gave Joanna a quick hug, and with a hand at her back urged her toward the door. "Now, come on, we'll— Oh, my God!"
With the startled exclamation, Claire stopped in her tracks, and Joanna turned to find her staring straight ahead, her eyes wide with shock. As one, they both looked down at Claire's drenched slacks and the spreading puddle at her feet. When their eyes met again both women had paled. "My water," Claire said, in a faint, amazed tone. "Joanna, my water has broken."
At the words, Joanna's heart jerked. She looked around wildly for a second. Then she leaped forward to put a supporting arm around her mother and at the same time screamed for Matt at the top of her lungs.
Five seconds later he came barreling through the door with Sean at his heels. "What is it? What's the ma—"
He stopped abruptly, his eyes going wide with horror when they lit on Claire.
"My God! It's the baby!"
"Now, Matt, calm down," Claire cautioned as he rushed forward, but before she could get all the words out he was scooping her up in his arms.
He swung around and barked, "Sean, call Dr. Harris. His number is by every phone in the house. Joanna, you run upstairs and get her bag. It's right beside our bed. Move! Both of you!"
Sean's face was even whiter than Joanna's, but when she rushed out the door he swallowed hard and followed right behind her. He grabbed the phone in the hall, and as she sprinted up the stairs on legs that felt like rubber sticks she heard him demanding to be put through to Dr. Harris. When she raced back down with the overnight bag a few seconds later, he was just hanging up the phone, and Matt was striding toward the front door with Claire in his arms.
"Sean, go get my car and bring it around to the front. Joanna! Hurry with that bag!" he yelled without even looking around.
"Matt, I can't go out in this weather without a coat," Claire reminded him.
Swearing, Matt swung back toward the closet. Before he got there Joanna had already pulled Claire's coat from its hanger, but when she held it ou
t to Matt he just stood there with his wife in his arms and scowled.
"Darling, you have to put me down so I can put it on."
Matt looked at Claire in sheer horror. "Do you think, you can stand?"
"Of course. I'm fine, darling. Really."
With a great deal of reluctance, Matt very gingerly lowered her to her feet. Joanna helped her mother into her coat, but she had barely gotten the first button fastened when Claire gasped and bent over, clutching her distended abdomen.
"What is it?" Matt cried in alarm.
"It's... okay, it's... just... a labor pain," Claire gasped.
Matt's face turned ashen. His curse turned the air blue.
He started to snatch her up in his arms again, but Joanna stopped him. "Give it time to pass first. And in the meantime, here, put your coat on."
Cursing fluently under his breath, his eyes never leaving his wife, Matt snatched the coat from her outstretched hand as Joanna pulled her own from the closet. By the time they had scrambled into them the pain had eased and Claire had started to straighten. Before she could finish, Matt swept her up in his arms again.
"Dammit! What the hell is keeping Sean?" he roared as he headed for the door.
As if on cue, a car horn blasted outside. Carrying the overnight bag, Joanna rushed out the door after Matt, and gasped when she was hit full in the face by blowing snow.
"When did this happen?" Matt grumbled as he bundled Claire into the back seat, and Joanna scrambled in beside Sean. "The weatherman said we were in for a light snow, for Pete's sake!"
Sean sent the car shooting down the gravel drive toward the highway, a mile away. "He miscalculated," he said tersely, leaning forward to peer through the swirling flakes. "This has all the earmarks of a blizzard."
Matt muttered a curse and Claire murmured soothingly to him. Staring straight ahead Joanna held the overnight bag in her lap and gripped the handle with both hands.
Visibility grew worse by the minute. By the time they reached the highway it didn't extend the length of the headlight beams. Grimly, his jaw clenched, Sean eased the car onto the paved road, but they had barely gone ten feet when it began to fishtail. By the time he brought it to a stop they were almost in the ditch.
"It's no use, Matt. That sleet has formed a solid layer of ice over the road. We've got to go back."
"We can't!"
"Matt, we have to. If we don't we'll end up freezing to death in a ditch."
Matt opened his mouth to argue, but at that moment another pain hit Claire, and he clutched her to him, his panic-stricken eyes seeking out the other two over the top of her head.
Joanna checked her watch and swallowed around the knot of fear in her throat. Striving to keep her voice calm, she said, "It's only been six minutes since the last pain. Matt, we have no choice but to go back."
Without waiting for his reply, Sean put the car in reverse.
When Matt rushed back into the house with Claire in his arms she was in the grips of another wrenching contraction. With Joanna and Sean right behind him, he took the stairs two at a time and hurried to the master bedroom. Joanna darted around him and flipped back the covers, and Matt eased Claire onto the bed, then sat beside her and gripped her hands tightly.
"Hang on, sweetheart," he said with gruff tenderness when the pain had passed. He snatched up the phone on the bedside table and began punching out numbers. "We'll get you to the hospital, don't worry."
Two minutes later, Matt had Dr. Harris on the phone. Quickly, in a voice bordering on panic, he told him what had happened. "I want a helicopter out here, Bob, and I want it now," he ordered. "The damned pains are already less than six minutes apart."
There was a moment of silence, then, his face livid, Matt shouted, "What the hell do you mean, they can't fly in this weather? They have to!"
Chapter Fourteen
"Dammit, man! Don't you understand? Claire is in pain! She's going to have the baby! She needs help!"
Sitting on the opposite side of the bed, Joanna held her mother's hand and cast anxious glances at her stepfather. The knuckles on Matt's left hand were white where they gripped the phone. His face was a rigid mask of fear and rage, his eyes wild. He looked ready to commit mayhem. Joanna didn't have to be told that the news was not good. She had seen Matt angry before, but never this close to losing control.
"What! Are you crazy?" he roared into the receiver. "We can't deliver this baby! You've got to do something, dammit!"
As Matt listened to the doctor's reply Joanna watched his expression grow more desperate, and fear crawled up her spine. "Now listen to me, you sonofa—"
Claire cried out and clutched her abdomen, and the vitriolic curse cut off in mid-spate. The phone slid from Matt's grasp and dropped to the floor unnoticed as he sank back down on the edge of the bed and grasped both her shoulders. "Easy, sweetheart. Easy," he crooned desperately as Claire writhed in the grip of a clawing pain.
Joanna looked at Sean, but he was standing at the foot of the bed, an expression of sheer horror on his face. Gathering her courage, she rose, circled around to the other side of the bed and picked up the receiver from the carpet. "Dr. Harris? This is Joanna Andrews, Mrs. Drummond's daughter."
"Ah, good," Dr. Harris said in a relieved tone. "I'm glad you're there, Miss Andrews. From the sound of Matt, he's not going to be of much use. I'm afraid it's going to be up to you to deliver that baby."
Terror washed over Joanna in an icy wave, sending a shudder rippling through her. She wanted to run and hide. Dear, Lord! She couldn't deliver a baby! But when her panicked glance fell on Claire's pale face Joanna drew in a deep breath and clamped down on the fear. ^"Tell me what we have to do."
Joanna listened intently to the doctor's instructions, and scribbled on the notepad by the phone the list of supplies she would need. "You will stay on the phone and guide me?" she asked shakily when he had finished.
"Yes, of course. Now you just stay calm and do what I say, and everything will be fine."
"All right, doctor. Hold on just a moment." Joanna put the phone down on the bedside table and started issuing orders as she headed for the master bathroom. "Sean, you man the phone and relay Dr. Harris's instructions. Matt, you stay right where you are and do what you can to help Mother."
Matt came up off the bed with a roared, "No!"
Joanna spun around and found him glaring at her, his rugged features distorted with anguish and stark fear.
Putting a bracing hand on his shoulder, Sean said, "Matt, take it easy. Can't you see we don't have a choice?"
"He's right, Matt." Joanna walked back to him and gripped his upper arms, feeling the tense muscles ripple beneath her hands. "There is no way on earth we can get to the hospital, and like it or not, that baby is going to be born tonight. Probably within the hour, Dr. Harris says. We just have to do what we can to help Mother."
A shudder shook Matt's big frame, and he squeezed his eyes shut as though in agony.
"Darling, please don't worry," Claire called softly, and Matt spun around and dropped down on his knees beside the bed. He grasped one of her hands between both of his and brought it to his mouth, his blue eyes darting frantically over her face, wide with fear and concern. She looked at him tenderly and touched the silvered hair at his temple with her other hand. "It will be all right, my love. Women have been having babies since the beginning of time/'
"Oh, God, Claire!"
Joanna left them and went to look for the things she needed. She returned a few minutes later carrying clean sheets and towels, scissors, a ball of string, a bottle of alcohol, newspaper, and a plastic dry cleaner's bag.
With Matt's help, she stripped Claire of her soiled clothes and dressed her in a warm gown. Joanna then spread several layers of newspaper over the plastic, covered both with a sheet and slid the makeshift pad under her mother's hips. As she covered Claire with a sheet another pain bore down on her.
Joanna checked her watch and looked at Sean. "Tell Dr. Harris the pains are no
w four and a half minutes apart."
Matt muttered a frantic "Oh, God" and gripped Claire's hand tighter as he dabbed the beads of perspiration from her forehead with a tissue.
Stepping to the side of the bed, Joanna touched her mother's shoulder and studied her with concerned eyes. "Are you okay?"
"I... I'm fine," Claire panted.
Swallowing down another rush of fear, Joanna hurried away to finish her preparations. When Matt came storming into the bathroom a few minutes later she had just finished removing her nail polish and was hurriedly clipping her nails.
"For God's sake, Joanna!" he yelled. "What the hell are you doing? This is no time for a manicure!"
At any other time Joanna would have taken offense at his tone, but she knew that Matt was distraught. "Matt, I'm trying to make my hands as germfree as possible," she explained patiently. "As soon as I scrub I'll be there. Now go back to your wife."
"Well hurry it up," he snapped, only partially mollified. "Claire needs you."
As if on cue, they heard a stifled scream from the bedroom. Matt paled, cursed, and shot back through the door. When Joanna followed him a couple of minutes later another hard contraction was building. Anxiously, her eyes sought Sean, and he muttered, "Two minutes apart."
Fear clawed at Joanna. Claire was drenched in sweat, her golden curls darkened and plastered to her head. Her hands gripped two of the oak spindles in the headboard above her head, and she was pulling and straining, writhing from side to side. Her lovely face was ravaged with pain, her eyes and jaws clamped tightly shut, but little sounds of distress came out with every breath.
Joanna climbed onto the foot of the bed and knelt between Claire's knees. She placed her hand on her stomach, and her eyes widened as she felt the rippling movement against her palm. Claire's moans built to a hoarse scream that seemed to tear from her throat, and her back arched off the bed as her abdomen tightened into a tortuous hard ball.
"Dr. Harris says not to fight it, Claire," Sean advised in a strained voice a moment later as the agonized sound faded away. "Pant with the pains and relax in between."