His side. His mother’s side, including her sobs. Including her pleas for him to get in the car and get to Wyoming, to his grandfather’s bedside, as soon as possible.
And Logan did not know what to do.
He did not know what action was right or honorable or what he could live with, versus what he could not. Leave Anna, miss the birth of his daughter, the baby girl he could not wait to see and hear and hold and...love? Or if Zeke was at the end, if he did not survive, lose the chance to say goodbye to the man who’d raised and protected and loved Logan from the moment of his birth?
How could he make such a choice? What type of a God would force him into making such a choice? No. He did not know what to do. He did not know. And because he did not know, the bombardment of emotion breached his defenses. Logan’s body shuddered, tears escaped and wet his cheeks, and unrelenting, dizzying nausea saturated his gut.
“Go,” Anna said. “It’s okay, Logan. I’ll...I’ll be fine. You need to see your grandfather.”
No.
“Is that Anna?” Carla asked. “Oh, h-honey, is she in l-labor?”
“Yes, Mom,” he said, speaking as clearly as possible. “We’re at the hospital now.”
“Stay th-there,” Carla said. “Your grandfather w-wouldn’t want you to leave.”
No.
An impossible choice. A heartbreaking choice. The most awful choice Logan would ever have to make. And no, he still did not know what to do. He hated not knowing what to do.
Find some strength, man. Make the decision.
But he couldn’t. So he told his mother that he’d let her know his plans when he knew them. He asked her to phone him instantly if anything changed with Zeke. He told her that he loved her and asked her to give Rosalie his love, as well. And then they hung up.
Logan closed his eyes and breathed. Just breathed. In order to escape from the crippling, blinding haze of his emotions. To find enough peace to think logically.
“You need to see your grandfather,” Anna repeated, her voice once again wobbly. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to do this without you. But you have to—”
Opening his eyes, he said, “No, I don’t. I can stay.”
“But if he dies and you’re not there, you won’t forgive yourself. I won’t forgive myself.” Anna winced, and that told him that her tipsy drug wasn’t working quite as well, and that made him feel worse. “Our baby will be here. You can come back to her.”
Anna’s meaning was clear, and it was one he’d already thought of. His grandfather might not be here tomorrow, but Anna and their daughter would be.
It was, he supposed, the most logical side of an impossible choice. Reasonable and rather obvious. See the person today you might not be able to tomorrow. But the realization of what he would miss—the precious first breath, the earsplitting first cry, taking in the sight of the woman he loved holding their baby girl—hurt more than anything Logan had ever experienced. It was a sickening, engulfing, head-pounding, gut-wrenching, soul-crushing pain.
“I’ll have other firsts with my daughter,” he said, though he hadn’t meant to speak what was in his head. Mostly, he was just trying to coax himself through the god-awful hurt he was feeling so he could get up and follow through. “Lots of other firsts.”
“You will. We will. Her first smile and her first laugh, her first tooth,” Anna said. “Her first step and her first day of school and so many others, Logan.”
Right. But he might not have another with his grandfather. Simple, obvious, logical. Nodding, Logan stood and kissed Anna. Ruffled her hair and kissed her again.
And he came real close, too close, to saying, “I love you,” but managed to swallow the sentiment whole. When he told his woman he loved her, he did not want to be walking away.
“I’ll phone Lola,” he said, his voice heavy. “And Gavin and Haley. You won’t be alone.”
“Just my aunt, please.” Anna stroked his cheek with her palm, her eyes holding pain and sadness, confusion and fear. Hell. How could he leave her? “And if you can, if it seems proper to do so, thank your grandfather for me, for all he did in building you.”
“If I can, I will...and thank you.” Then he kissed Anna’s stomach and said, “Now listen to me, baby girl. I am so sorry I will not be here to give you the greeting you deserve, but know that I...I love you, and I will be back. Just as soon as I can. I will always come back.”
“You need to go,” Anna said, her voice breaking. “Before I... You need to go.”
Logan ran his hand over his face and nodded. She was right. He was making this harder on both of them than he needed to. He was about to say goodbye, to kiss her one last time, when God must have felt sorry for him, because a name popped into Logan’s head. The perfect name.
“I just had an idea for a name,” he said. “What do you think about calling her Scarlett Valentina? Scarlett for your mom, as a play on Ruby, and Valentina for mine.”
“Oh! Scarlett Valentina.” Anna said the name a few times, as if trying it on for size, and then she smiled that smile. “I...love it, Logan. It’s perfect and sentimental and beautiful.”
“Good. I’m glad. I love it, too.” Lord. He did not want to do this. But he knew he had to. “I’ll call as soon as I’m off the phone with Lola, and we’ll talk until she’s here.”
Relief dipped into her gaze. “And I’ll call you when Scarlett has vacated my stomach.”
They looked into each other’s eyes for another second—a second filled with a million unsaid words—and with the reassuring, steady beat of his baby’s heart echoing in his ears, Logan turned on his heel and did the unthinkable. He left his wife and daughter.
And Lord, walking out of Anna’s room almost killed him. Each step held the gravity, the pain, of the sharpest knife slicing into his heart and soul. Both were in shreds by the time he made it to the row of elevators, and he could barely see through his blinding emotions. Somehow, he managed to stab the appropriate button.
But as he waited for the damn elevator to reach his floor, he knew—like he’d never known another truth in his entire life—that he could not do this. Despite the logic of rushing to his grandfather’s side, Logan could not, would not, abandon his wife.
And no way in hell would he miss his little princess’s entrance into this world. He had to be here, to hear her cries and kiss her cheeks and... He had to greet her in person. Just had to.
Logic held no weight in this decision, only the certainty that he had to be with the woman he loved when their daughter was born. So, Logan prayed—hard and fervently—that Zeke would hold on. And then he turned around and hightailed it back to Anna.
“I can’t leave,” Logan said as he entered her room. She startled at the sound of his voice, and the sight of her tears strengthened everything he knew to be true. “Seems you’re stuck with me, sweetheart.”
“But what about your grandfather? What if—”
“Zeke Cordero is about as mule-headed as they get, and there isn’t any way he’s leaving this earth without putting up one helluva fight.” Reaching Anna, Logan tucked her hand into his and squeezed. “There’s no use in arguing, Anna. I won’t leave you.”
Crying, but he thought—hoped—in happiness, she nodded. “Okay, then, cowboy. Let’s have a baby.”
A good many hours later, that was precisely what they did. It was a beautiful, miraculous moment. Bigger and bolder and crazier than Logan could have ever imagined. And he was so grateful, so humbled, to be there for his baby girl’s birth.
But that did not make it any easier to kiss mother and daughter goodbye, to get in his car and finally start the trek to Wyoming. The entire drive there, he prayed that he wasn’t too late, that Zeke would pull through the crisis and that Logan would soon be able to return to his family. To Anna and Scarlett.
* * *
With the utmost care, Anna untucked and unfolded the hospital blanket from around her newborn’s tiny, flawless body. She had this need to look at Scarlett again, to count her ten beautiful little toes and feel the sweet softness of her skin and kiss the top of her downy head.
Anna hadn’t known that such an overpowering, fulfilling type of love existed until the first second she held and looked at her daughter. And oh, was this little one a beauty, even if she did say so herself. Her daughter had brown eyes—like Anna’s—and silky golden-brown hair that she suspected would eventually darken to the same shade as Logan’s.
She had a cute, perky nose that reminded Anna of her mother’s and fingers that were long and slender exactly as Logan’s were. She thought Scarlett’s mouth was the same as Logan’s mom’s, but it was too soon to tell for sure. Regardless, Scarlett Valentina was simply lovely.
Her entrance into this world, however, was not as easy as Anna would’ve preferred. For such a rushed beginning, her darling daughter had taken her time being born, almost as if she knew her father would then have to leave and therefore was trying to delay the inevitable.
Under the circumstances, that was impossible, but Anna’s amazement and gratitude for Logan’s decision to stay with her, for as long as he could, hadn’t diminished. Just thinking about those awful, awful minutes directly after his initial exit from her hospital room brought back the excruciating pain she had felt.
Oh, she’d truly believed that he had to go. There really was not another option, and Anna had meant every word she said to help him find the strength to leave. But there was a chunk of her heart—a selfish, no-good chunk—that had so wanted him to stay.
But then he shocked her by coming back and insisting that he would not leave her side. And he hadn’t. From that minute on, he’d focused every ounce of his attention and care on her, on her comfort and her needs, and her relief had been profound.
Logan had held her hand, rubbed her back, whispered or yelled encouragement—whichever was most needed—and cried tears of joy when Scarlett had finally made her grand entrance.
After their daughter’s birth, Logan contacted Anna’s aunt, and Lola had quickly arrived with snacks and smiles and love and excitement. Logan had to leave then. Of course he did, and while it was somewhat easier the second time around, Anna wished their situation was different.
She missed him. Terribly so.
In the forty-eight hours since, she had sent him tons of pictures and several videos to share with his family. Naturally, they had talked some, in between the endless hours he sat at Zeke’s side in the hospital in Cheyenne. Unfortunately, due to the small amount of time they had, the majority of the conversations were short and rushed and unsatisfying.
But since they couldn’t change their circumstances, Anna chose to focus on her daughter. Tomorrow would take care of itself, one way or the other.
Scarlett blinked long-lashed eyes and yawned. She wriggled her body as if to say, “Hey, Mom! I’m kind of cold here. Could you stop gaping and cover me up, please?”
Smiling, Anna wrapped and folded and tucked the blanket around Scarlett, so she resembled a baby burrito, and said, “We’re going home today, and wait until you see the beautiful room your daddy put together for you. We’ll have to take lots more pictures to send him, to keep him going until you two can be together again.”
Hopefully, that day wouldn’t be too far in the distance. For the moment, Zeke was holding his own, though he remained in intensive care. From what Logan had said, while Zeke’s condition was still touch and go, the doctors were speaking in more positive terms about the potential for recovery. There was hope, at least.
Anna prayed that Zeke would grow stronger, would recover as much as possible, and return to his crotchety, cantankerous self. For his and his family’s sake, and so Logan could come home and bond with their precious daughter. And for one additional reason, as well.
She’d very much like Zeke to know—in all good humor, of course—that her impractically narrow hips had produced an eight-pound, thirteen-ounce, twenty-one-and-a-half-inch-tall baby. Not puny, just...beautifully perfect.
Chapter Twelve
Logan’s phone rang just as he started digging through his grandfather’s desk drawers. He didn’t know precisely what he hoped to find, but there had to be something hidden in Zeke’s office that would provide a little relief. A few answers. Something.
He glanced at the phone’s display, saw Anna’s name and winced in reflex. Not because he didn’t miss her desperately...he did, but because it was becoming increasingly difficult to be here instead of there, with her and Scarlett. He couldn’t return yet, though, no matter how much he wanted to. It would not be fair to his wife or his child.
Almost two weeks had come and gone since the day Logan had left Anna and Scarlett in Lola’s care. It had been hell, leaving them. Devastating and unimaginable to walk out of the hospital, get in his car and drive away, knowing that his wife and daughter needed him.
The phone buzzed again, and Logan had the shameful thought of letting the call roll to voice mail. Of phoning her back when he knew what he was doing. But he had no idea how long that would take or, really, what that conversation would sound like.
So he picked up the phone and said, “Morning, Anna,” and he prayed he’d find his answers quickly. As in today, so he could return to Colorado before nightfall. Unfortunately, not knowing what he was looking for made that prospect doubtful, which meant he’d likely disappoint Anna before their conversation came to an end.
“Logan...hi,” she said in the soft, quiet manner that told him Scarlett was likely sleeping on her lap. “You...um...didn’t check in yesterday, and I got worried that Zeke had a setback.”
“I’m sorry about not calling. I didn’t mean to cause you any concern,” he said, working hard to sound natural. Normal. And not like a man drowning in confusion. “I should’ve realized you’d worry. He’s good, though. Getting better every minute, it seems.”
Not all the way good, but definitely improving. Why, yesterday morning, Zeke had grumped about the “damn hospital staff” wanting to put him in a nursing home for the remainder of his recovery. An idea he so disliked that he’d flat-out refused.
Rather than wheedling or arguing, Logan found a secondary-care facility that was not a nursing home. Surprisingly enough, his grandfather accepted the compromise. He’d go there in another week, would stay for a couple more and then would likely be well enough to come home.
“Oh. I’m glad to hear that,” Anna said. “How...um...are you?”
“Busy. Tired. Trying to keep everything together here. How are you and Scarlett?”
“Also busy. Also tired,” she said. A large layer of guilt dropped onto the pile. Because yeah, he should be there helping. “She’s a night owl, our daughter, so we spend a lot of time in that rocking chair. It’s been my saving grace, especially at two in the morning.”
Ah, hell. If Logan tried real hard, he could see Anna and his baby girl, snuggled together in that old rocking chair. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he said, “I’ll make sure to tell Mom and Grandma. It will make them happy to know the chair’s getting used.”
Silence loomed for five seconds. Ten seconds. Fifteen...
“Since Zeke’s doing better, when do you think you’ll be able to come back here, Logan?”
There it was. The question he’d been hoping real hard to avoid until he could answer with surety. “I’m trying to work that out,” he said, speaking the God’s honest truth. Just not in the way Anna likely assumed.
“Okay.”
And in that simple two-syllable word, Logan heard a world of hurt and confusion, along with the slightest thread of anger. He didn’t blame her for those feelings. He just didn’t know how to fix the problem. “I’m hoping soon, Anna. I miss you and Scarlett.
There are just a few areas I need to figure out before I can leave. No more than another day or two, I think.”
“Or maybe,” Anna said, brightening her voice, “I could bring Scarlett to the ranch for a visit. So you don’t have to rush through any of...whatever it is you need to take care of, and your family can spend some one-on-one time with her.”
She didn’t sound pleading or needy. Sad, perhaps, along with the hurt and confusion and that thread of anger he’d already recognized. And the fact that Anna was attempting to bring the three of them together, when he should be doing the same, shamed him to the core.
Practically speaking, it had been only a couple of days that everyone and everything settled into an easier rhythm. With Granddad’s heart surgeries behind him, work at the ranch had resumed at a more typical pace, and Logan’s mother and grandmother were a lot less stressed. But even with that, Logan did not feel right about heading to Steamboat Springs just yet.
There were steps he needed to take before he could fully commit to Anna in the way she deserved, to the life he wanted with her and their daughter. He needed to be whole when he returned to them.
Problem was, he couldn’t identify where the broken, cracked pieces were.
“I don’t know, Anna,” he said. “Scarlett’s awfully little, and it worries me, the idea of you two driving here by yourselves. Maybe if I can’t straighten everything out as soon as I’d like, we can talk more about that possibility then?”
She sighed. Loudly. “All right. Let me know, I guess.”
“I sure will.” Then, because there weren’t any more words in his head other than those he couldn’t yet say, he chickened out and went with, “I hate to do this, but I have to run. Give Scarlett a kiss for me and I’ll call later tonight.”
Maybe by then, he’d have better news.
“Oh. No. You don’t,” she said, her voice suddenly strong. “You do not get to brush me off as if I’m an annoying telemarketer. I—I don’t understand what’s happening, but this is g-getting out of hand. You’re doing it again, blocking me out instead of talking to me. And your daughter needs you here. I need you...to be here for her.”
Harlequin Special Edition October 2015, Box Set 1 of 2 Page 36