“Please tell me that was the last one.” Sweat dribbled down Rayne’s back, her hair stuck to her head and she wanted to collapse into a puddle on the floor.
But she was Mom.
Moms did not collapse.
They did not melt into puddles.
“It was. She’s all set. The antibiotic will help with the pneumonia and the steroid will relax her bronchial tubes. She’ll be breathing easier in no time. The doctor wants her under the oxygen tent for forty-five minutes of every hour for the next several hours. We’ll check her periodically, but my guess is that by tomorrow she’ll be almost ready to go home.” The nurse took Emma from Rayne’s arms, settled the crying baby into a crib fitted with an oxygen tent.
“Can I hold her until she stops crying?”
“I’m afraid not. We need to bring those oxygen levels up first.” She bustled away, left Rayne in the too-hot room, her skin sticky with sweat, her hands shaking as she reached beneath the tent, stroked Emma’s damp brow. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here.”
She hummed a little tune, because her throat was too dry to sing, and she was afraid her raspy voice would scare the baby.
Slowly, Emma relaxed, her body going limp as she nose-dived into sleep, cheeks pink, lips pink.
“Thank You, God.”
Someone knocked on the door, and Rayne was sure it was the nurse returning with more needles. Only this time, Rayne was going to tell her to take a hike. Antibiotics, steroids and oxygen were plenty. Now everyone was going to leave her baby alone.
“Come in.”
The door opened, Chance stepped in and the tears Rayne had been holding back for nearly an hour burst out.
“Shh. It’s okay.” He wrapped her in his arms, and she buried her face in his coat, hung on tight.
“No. It’s not. They stuck her five times to get the IV in, and then they gave her two injections.”
“And now she’s sleeping. You don’t want to wake her, do you?”
No.
Of course, she didn’t.
Moms did not wake their kids by having nervous breakdowns in their hospital rooms.
Rayne took a deep breath, sniffed back more tears, told herself to let go of Chance.
Didn’t.
His hand smoothed circles on her back, and standing there felt better than anything had in the past couple of hours. She wrapped her arms around his waist, inhaled aftershave and outdoors. “Thanks for coming.”
“Yeah. Well, I would have been here thirty minutes ago, but I got waylaid by security.”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story.” He led her to the crib, his arm still around her waist as he looked down at Emma, his face soft with concern. “How is she?”
“She has RSV and pneumonia. I guess both are pretty common in preemies.”
“She’s a preemie?”
“She was born two months early and spent most of her first month in the hospital.”
“So Chandra didn’t get to spend any time with Emma at home before she died.” He slipped his hand beneath the oxygen tent, brushed damp curls from Emma’s forehead.
He’d make a good father.
The thought flitted through Rayne’s head and she knew she shouldn’t entertain it. Knew how dangerous it was.
“She died three days after Emma left the hospital. It took me almost two months to accept that she wasn’t coming back and that I was really going to be Emma’s mother forever.”
“There wasn’t any family who could take her?”
“Chandra’s mother is an alcoholic, and there’s no one else. When Chandra was pregnant, she asked if I’d be willing to be Emma’s guardian if anything happened to her. She asked again the day Emma was born. I barely even gave it a thought before I said yes. Next thing I knew, I was a mom. I don’t think I was ready for it.”
“But you don’t regret it. All anyone has to do is watch you with Emma to know that.”
“Thanks, but the only person’s opinion that will ever matter is Em’s. As long as she knows, that’s all I care about.”
“You’re a good mom, Rayne.” He shifted so they were facing each other, both his hands cupping her waist.
“I didn’t feel like a good mother when they were sticking her with needles. I felt like I was going to pass out.”
“I should have been here.”
“That’s right. You were going to tell me the story about the security guard.”
“Was I?” he asked, and Rayne smiled.
“Yes.”
“Here’s how it went down. I got tired of waiting for you, and I walked into the triage area uninvited.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“It wasn’t, but when I got into the triage area, I could hear Emma screaming. I ran down the hall to try to find you two, and the security guard took offense.”
“Because you were running?”
“Because I didn’t stop when he told me to. Next thing I know, he pulls a gun, people are screaming and diving for cover, and I’m looking around trying to figure out where the danger is. Took me about three seconds to realize that I was the danger. Another two and he probably would have shot me.”
“That did not happen.”
“It did. As a matter of fact, if Kai Parker hadn’t shown up and explained things, I’d probably be on my way to jail right now.”
“Kai? You mean your sheriff’s officer friend.”
“Right.”
“So you got special treatment, because you know a deputy?”
“I got sympathy because the security officer made a fool of himself over a woman years ago. Once he cooled down enough to listen to Kai’s explanation, he let me go.”
“I can’t believe you went through all that for Emma.” She wasn’t sure if she should be amused or horrified.
“I went through it for both of you. And because every once in a while, my wild side comes out.” He leaned down, his lips grazing hers. Just a touch. There. Gone. There again.
She sighed, leaned in for more, forgetting all about healthy hearts and all the reasons why she should have a rule number four.
“Rayne? Chance?” Lila’s voice cut into the moment, and Rayne jumped back, her cheeks blazing.
Her landlord had not just caught Rayne kissing her son.
But based on the sparkle in Lila’s eye, the smile she was trying to hide, Rayne was pretty sure she had.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said, casting a sly look in Chance’s direction.
“You know you are.”
“Bad timing, I guess. I would have been here sooner, but Fred insisted on coming into the house to help me find the things you needed for Emma, and the man takes forever to get moving.” She placed a large bag on a table near the wall and walked over to the crib. “How is the little peanut?”
“Better than she was. Her lips are pink, and her breathing sounds clear.”
“She has pneumonia? Chance wasn’t sure when he called.” All Lila’s amusement was gone, and she touched Emma’s cheek.
“RSV and pneumonia.”
“I’ve heard about RSV. That’s nasty stuff for little ones.”
“It is, but the doctor thinks she’s going to be fine.” Rayne prayed she’d be fine. Life without Emma didn’t bear thinking about.
“Well, all our prayer warriors at church are sending petitions to Heaven and you know I’ll be praying, too.”
“That means a lot to me.”
“When you and Emma are feeling better, I’ll take you to my special prayer spot. It’s at the edge of the orchard under a canopy of apple branches. In the spring, it’s the most beautiful place to talk to God.”
“I’d love that, Lila. Thank you.”
“I’d planned to stay longer, but I can see that you and Chance have everything under control, so I’ll just head out.”
“There’s no need to rush off.” As a matter of fact, Rayne would love for her to stay, because once Lila left it would be just Rayne and C
hance and a sleeping baby in the room.
That combination hadn’t worked out well before.
“I know, but it’s getting dark, and my eyes aren’t as good as they used to be. It’s best if I head home now.”
Chance snorted, but walked his mother to the door, kissing her cheek before she left.
“She’s quite a lady.”
“Yeah. She is.”
“But I’m guessing her eyes aren’t really bad.”
“Not bad. Worse. They used to be 20/20. Now they’re 20/40.”
Rayne laughed and Emma whimpered, her eyes fluttering open and then shutting again.
“Poor baby. You’ve been through too much today,” Rayne said, pressing a kiss to her fingers, pressing her fingers to Emma’s cheek.
“Is she still warm?” Chance asked.
“Not as warm as she was. The nurse said she thinks Emma will be almost well enough to go home tomorrow.”
Her cell phone rang, and she pulled it out of the diaper bag, frowning when she saw the number.
“The ex, again?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t keep avoiding his calls.”
“I took one of them, and I told him not to call again.”
“Then maybe he needs to hear it from someone else.”
“Michael won’t care who he hears it from. If he wants to do something, he does it.”
“Let’s test your theory.” Chance snagged the phone. “Hello?”
“Give that back,” Rayne hissed.
“Only if you want to talk to Michael. He says he’s been trying to reach you for an hour.”
“Fine.” She grabbed the phone. “I thought you weren’t going to call me again.”
“I wasn’t, but then I heard about Emma. How is she?”
“She has pneumonia and was admitted to the hospital.”
“How long will she be there?”
“At least overnight.”
“I’m sorry, Rayne. I know how much she means to you.”
“Of course she means a lot to me. She’s my daughter.”
“She’s Chandra’s daughter. You’re raising her.”
“She’s my daughter because I’m raising her.” Her voice cracked with the force of her emotions.
“There’s no reason to get emotional, Rayne. It never helps. Take a deep breath, clear your mind, focus on expelling the negative energy.”
“I’d rather expel you,” she muttered, and Chance laughed.
“If you’d like I can write a prescription, give you something to help you sleep.”
“You’re not my doctor, Michael. Even if you were, I don’t need prescription sleep aids and I really don’t need to worry about expelling my emotions.”
“You’re misunderstanding what I’m trying to say, Rayne. Feel the emotions, but keep them under wraps. You don’t want to frighten Emma.”
“Since when do you care about Emma?”
“She’s a baby. Of course I care.”
“Why did you call, Michael?”
“To check on you. I know how emot—”
“I am not emotional!” she growled, heat rising in her face until she was sure steam would start pouring from her ears.
“You’re under an incredible amount of pressure. As I told you when you decided to raise Emma, being a single mother is a huge responsibility. It’s not for everyone, and you simply don’t have the temperament to be successful at it.”
“Michael—”
“Deep breaths. Just as we practiced. Inhale peace. Exhale calm.”
She didn’t want to inhale. Didn’t want to exhale.
She wanted to reach through the phone, wrap her hands around his skinny neck…
“Let me talk to him,” Chance said. The phone was out of her hand and pressed to Chance’s ear before she realized he was planning to take it.
“Michael? This is Chance Richardson. I’m a friend of Rayne’s.” He paused, and she knew Michael was talking, knew she should snatch the phone back, finish the conversation.
But she didn’t want to hear one more word about inhaling or exhaling. Didn’t want to hear one more word about how emotional she was, or how she was unfit to be a mother. Did not want to hear one more word from Michael Rathdrum.
Not today.
Not ever.
“You do realize you’re talking about a twenty-eight-year-old woman, right?” Chance said, then paused. “If you want to see emotion, I’ll be happy to come to Arizona and show you some. No. Not a threat, Michael. Just a statement of intent. If you want to be helpful, here’s what you can do. You can pray for Emma and you can ask other people do the same. What you can’t do is keep calling.” He hung up without saying goodbye and passed the phone to Rayne.
“I can’t decide whether I should applaud or be appalled,” Rayne said as she shoved the phone into her pocket.
“A little of both will be fine.” His smile didn’t hide the annoyance in his eyes.
“You’re angry.”
“The guy rubs me the wrong way. I’d think he’d do the same to you, seeing as how he treats you like you’re a ten-year-old child.”
“I don’t care enough about him anymore to be bothered one way or another.”
“You care.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on tender flesh.
“Okay. Maybe I do, but only because I wasted three years of my life on him.”
“It wasn’t a waste, Rayne. It brought you here. I need to go. I have a meeting with Kai. I’ll be back as soon as I can. There’s a security officer standing guard outside the room, so you’ll be safe while I’m gone. If you need anything, call. I added my number to your contact list. Use it any time, okay?”
She wanted to ask if he was really coming back, wanted to tell him that he should, but she just watched him walk away, feeling like a coward a hundred times over because she wouldn’t say the words that welled up, begged to be spilled out—I need you, so don’t leave me here alone for too long.
“Ma’am, please stay in the room.” A gray-haired, steel-faced man sat on a chair outside the door, his black eyes expressionless as he issued the command. Stocky frame dressed in a starched and pressed uniform, he looked like a police officer or a military man.
“You’re the security guard?”
“I work for Personal Protection Plus.” He flashed an ID.
“Nice to meet you.” She offered a hand, but he didn’t return the gesture.
“Please, stay in the room.”
“I am in the room.” But she was tempted to slide one foot out into the corridor just to see what he’d do.
“I’ll be here for the next eight hours. If you have any concerns, let me know.” He saluted and closed the door, shutting Rayne in the room.
She’d been a prisoner at Sydney’s house for three days.
Now it seemed as if she was a prisoner at the hospital.
Not surprising.
Ever since Chandra’s death, Rayne’s life had been spiraling out of control.
Eventually, it would have to spiral back.
Wouldn’t it?
FIFTEEN
2:00 a.m.
Rayne shifted in the chair, glanced at the clock on the wall again.
Still 2:00 a.m.
The soft hiss of oxygen seeping into the plastic tent above Emma’s crib served as a backdrop to other noises. Quiet conversation from the corridor. Footsteps on tile floor.
Even at two in the morning, the hospital wasn’t silent.
That should have been comforting, but Rayne felt restless, anxious, desperate to get out of the room. She cracked the door open, looked out into the hall, offered steel-faced-guy a smile as he glanced her way.
He didn’t respond.
She hadn’t expected him to. After ten or more peeks out into the corridor, she was getting used to the routine.
Getting tired of the routine.
Seven hours pacing the hospital room alone and still no smile from steel-faced-guy.
Not that she’d been anxiously waiting for him to return.
Liar.
She had been waiting.
She had been anxious.
Neither of those things had brought him back to the room.
Call him.
The thought whispered through Rayne’s mind, and she pulled out her cell phone, found his number the same way she had a half dozen times before.
Call him.
But it was two in the morning, and he was probably sound asleep.
He said any time. This is any time. So call him.
But if she did, it might say too much about what she felt. Might say too much about what she wanted, needed, longed for.
Him.
There with her.
Call him, you big chicken!
She hit Call. Couldn’t believe she’d done it.
“Hello?” His voice rumbled in her ear and her mind went blank, everything she’d been thinking about saying for the past seven hours gone.
“Rayne? Is that you?”
“Yes.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Fine. I just…” Wondered if you were okay. Wanted to know if you were coming back. Was lonely for someone to talk to.
None of them seemed like the right thing to say.
“Missed me?” he asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
“No.”
“Not even a little?”
“Maybe. A little.” A lot. A whole lot.
“Good. I missed you, too.”
“Then why aren’t you here?” Whoops! Not what she’d planned to say, but too late to take it back now.
“For someone who only missed me a little, you sure seem anxious to have me back.”
“Maybe I am. A little.”
He chuckled. “As I said, ‘good.’ How’s the munchkin?”
“Better. Last time the nurse came in, Emma’s fever was gone. She’s breathing easily. Her oxygen level is up.”
“Then we’ll have something to celebrate when I get back.”
“You’re coming back?”
“I told you I would.”
“Seven hours ago.” Not that she’d been counting or anything.
“Kai took me out to the motel where Leon was found. I was able to identify the Mitsubishi and confirm that it was the one I saw at my mom’s place.”
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