No! her mind exclaimed as she stared down and saw a bloody show among the liquid on the floor. Not now. She couldn’t be going into labour now. It was too soon, too soon, and she took a deep breath and clutched the kitchen table tight, but the pain in her back was getting worse, a lot worse, and frantically she scrabbled for her mobile and dialled Connor’s number.
He answered almost immediately, and she could hear the sound of traffic in the background which meant he had approached the town of St Piran.
‘Connor Monahan here,’ he declared cheerfully. ‘World-renowned but also very modest financial advisor to St Piran Hospital, grower of the best onions in Cornwall, and lucky enough to be married to the most beautiful woman in the entire world, and, yes, I am remembering you want me to pick up some milk before I come home tonight.’
‘Connor…’ She struggled to keep her voice calm, but it didn’t work. ‘Connor, my waters have broken.’
For a second there was complete silence down the phone, then she heard him exhale, and the sound of his car accelerating.
‘I’m on my way back. Stay where you are. Don’t move.’
She wasn’t going to, she thought as the phone went dead. She was going to stay right where she was and pray. Pray like she’d never prayed before.
‘You’re doing really, really well, Brianna,’ the midwife declared encouragingly. ‘Just a few more pushes and your first baby should be here.’
‘Are…are the heart rates still OK?’ Brianna gasped, trying to squint round at the monitor. ‘No sign of any distress, abnormality?’
‘Can you just concentrate on what you’re supposed to be doing?’ The midwife laughed. ‘Honestly, you nurses and doctors make the worst possible mums-to-be. You know too much, that’s the trouble. And, no, there’s absolutely no sign whatsoever of either of your babies having difficulty,’ she continued as Brianna made to interrupt. ‘OK, another contraction’s coming so work with it,’ she added as Brianna let out a groan, and bore down hard.
‘Is she OK? ‘ Connor asked, his face chalk-white. ‘My wife…Is she OK?’
‘She’s doing beautifully.’
‘But it’s been twelve hours,’ Connor protested, wiping his forehead with one hand while holding onto Brianna’s hand with the other. ‘She’s been in labour for twelve hours. Maybe you should be thinking of a Caesarean, or—’
‘Shut…up…Connor,’ Brianna said through her teeth. ‘I…don’t…want…a…oh…oh, my Lord…here comes another one.’
‘Push, push,’ the midwife ordered. ‘The head’s already out. We just need one more push, just one more, and…Oh, beautiful—just beautiful.’ She beamed. ‘You have a daughter, Brianna, a lovely daughter.’
‘Is she all right?’ Brianna asked, trying to lever herself upright, only to have to lie down again fast as another contraction rippled through her. ‘Is she all right? ‘
‘She’s beautiful, Bree,’ Connor said, his voice choked, his eyes shimmering. ‘Just beautiful.’
‘But is she all right? ‘ Brianna insisted.
‘She’s fine, just fine,’ the midwife said reassuringly. ‘You have a lovely, healthy, perfect baby. Now, keep on working with the contractions, keep working with them. I know you’re very tired, but half the hospital staff seem to be outside in the corridor, desperately waiting for news, and we don’t want to keep them waiting too much longer, do we?’
Brianna gripped Connor’s hand again tightly, and heard him suck in his breath. He was going to be lucky to survive this without having any broken fingers, she thought, but the chuckle which would have broken from her was cut off as yet another contraction swept over her.
‘Number two is on its way,’ the midwife announced. ‘Breathe with the pain, Brianna, go with it—don’t fight it.’
‘I’m…not…fighting…it,’ Brianna protested, her face scarlet, her forehead beaded with sweat. ‘I’m really not. I’m just…oh…oh, my…this is…’
‘Hard,’ Connor finished for her. ‘I know it is, but you can do it, Bree. I can see the head crowning. You can do this. I know you can.’
And Brianna took a deep breath, and, with a harsh, guttural cry, pushed for all she was worth, and heard the midwife give an ecstatic whoop.
‘She’s here, Brianna. You have another little girl, and how you’re ever going to tell your daughters apart. My heavens, they’re like two peas in a pod, and the spitting image of their father.’
‘Is she all right?’ Brianna demanded. ‘Is she…is she all right, too?’
‘Absolutely,’ the midwife announced.
For Brianna, all she wanted was to make sure her daughters were all right, to see for herself that they really and truly were all right, and when the midwife finally placed one of the babies in her arms she glanced quickly across at Connor and saw he was crying.
Crying and smiling at the same time, as he held their other daughter in his arms. A baby who was just as pink and healthy-looking as the one Brianna was holding. A baby who was breathing normally, and not erratically. A baby whose little face was screwed up in protest. Brianna let out a hiccupping laugh. A laugh that was pure relief and joy.
‘Can I let the crowd outside in the corridor know the good news?’ the midwife asked. ‘The way they’ve been staked out all day, refusing to budge, you’d think these two babies were theirs. And, of course, they’ll want to come in and see them, but.’ She looked from Brianna to Connor, and smiled. ‘Not yet, I think. The next few minutes are just for you. All four of you.’
And quickly the midwife bustled out the door, and Connor carefully placed the baby he was holding into Brianna’s other arm, then sat down on the bed beside her.
‘Oh, Bree, just look at them,’ he said huskily. ‘They are just so…so…beautiful. And she’s wrong—the midwife’s wrong—they both look like you.’
‘And Harry—they look like Harry, too, don’t they?’ Brianna said with an unsteady smile. ‘I never thought this day would ever come, Connor. I never thought I would ever be able to think of Harry and smile. Every time I thought about him, I’d feel as though my heart was being ripped to pieces, but now. I just wish he could have been here, to see his little sisters, but I’m so grateful we had him even for that very short time.’
‘I know,’ he said softly. ‘I feel the same way.’ And then he laughed as an eruption of applause broke out in the corridor outside. ‘Sounds like the midwife’s just told everyone the good news.’
‘We’ll have to let them in soon, but do you realise we haven’t even chosen names for our daughters?’ Brianna declared. ‘I didn’t want to even think about names in case. you know.’
‘Rhianna,’ Connor said. ‘I’d like to call one of them Rhianna, after your mother, if that’s OK?’
‘I’d like that, and I know she will.’ Brianna nodded. ‘And Aisling. Can we call our other daughter Aisling after your mother?’’
‘Are you sure?’ Connor said unsteadily. ‘It’s a pretty old-fashioned sort of a name—’
‘It’s a beautiful name,’ Brianna interrupted, planting a kiss on the top of each of her daughters’ heads. ‘Aisling and Rhianna. Our children.’
Connor delved into his pocket, and pulled out his wallet. For a second he stared down at it, then he carefully extracted a photograph and propped it up on the cabinet beside her.
‘Aisling and Rhianna and Harry,’ he said huskily. ‘Our three beloved children.’
Tears welled in Brianna’s eyes as she looked at the photograph.
‘I didn’t know you had that. You never said—never told me.’
‘I took the photograph just after Harry was born, never thinking that…’ He shook his head. ‘And I couldn’t throw it away, though even though looking at it always gave me pain, because it would have felt like I was throwing him away. I would have shown it to you, but…I thought…’
‘I know.’ She smiled tremulously. ‘I know what you thought.’
From outside the labour ward they could hear the sound of raised voic
es, and Connor sighed.
‘Sounds like they’re getting restless out there,’ he observed. ‘Are you ready to let them in to see the new additions to the Monahan family?’
Brianna gazed down at her two daughters, then up at him.
‘With you at my side, I’ll always be ready for anything.’
And after Connor bent his head and kissed her, then slid off the bed to open the labour-ward door, Brianna glanced at the photograph on the bedside table and smiled.
‘I love you, Harry,’ she whispered. ‘And I always will.’
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
® and TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
First published in Great Britain 2011
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited,
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Maggie Kingsley 2011
ISBN: 978-1-408-92457-0
Table of Contents
Cover
About the Author
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
Copyright
St Piran's: Tiny Miracle Twins Page 17