The Lawman's Convenient Bride. Christine Rimmer
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Only then did she meet his eyes. “Thanks for coming.” He wore jeans and a T-shirt and looked almost approachable.
She held out her arm. “Help me up?” He pulled her gently to her feet. She swayed against him for a moment. It was reassuring, leaning on him, such a broad, hard wall of a man. She could see the dark dots of beard stubble on his strong jaw, and he smelled clean and warm, like a just-ironed shirt. She was suddenly ridiculously glad she had called him. “Thanks.”
“You ready?” He bent to grab the handle of her suitcase.
“Let’s go.”
Outside, he led her to the camo-green Grand Cherokee parked at the curb. “Back or front?”
“What? You didn’t bring the cruiser?” When he only looked at her patiently, she answered his question. “I’ll sit in back. More space for rolling around in agony when the next contraction hits.”
He got her settled in, tossed her suitcase into the passenger seat and climbed up behind the wheel.
The ride to Justice Creek General took seven minutes. She knew because she was timing contractions and the spaces between them the whole way.
At the hospital, they were ready for her. She’d preregistered and her ob-gyn, Dr. Kapur, had called ahead to say Jody was on the way. They put her in a wheelchair and rolled her to a birthing suite.
Seth followed her right in there.
“Thanks.” She flashed him a pretty good imitation of a smile. “I’m good now. You can go.”
“Someone should be here. I’ll stay.”
“But I can call—”
“It’s almost three in the morning. I’m already here.”
She would have argued with him, but she knew how much good that would do her. “You’re staying no matter what I say, aren’t you?”
“That’s right.”
A nurse came in and introduced herself as Sandy. She took Jody’s vitals, waited out another contraction with her and then got a quick history. After that, she pulled a gown and a pair of canary yellow socks with nonskid soles from a cupboard.
“Your gown and some cozy socks.” Sandy handed them over and pointed at a set of long cabinets tucked into the corner. “Your street clothes can go in there. Dr. Kapur should be in soon.” She nodded at Seth. “Sheriff.”
“Thanks, Sandy,” he replied, as though he and Sandy were best pals and he had every right to be there. Apparently, Sandy was on the same page with him. She shot him a big smile and left them alone.
“You need help getting into that?” He gestured at the gown.
“No, thanks. Step out, please.”
“If you need me—”
“Thanks. I mean that. Out.”
He left and she changed into the gown and socks. Dr. Kapur came. She examined Jody and confirmed what Jody already knew. Just like the first time, her baby was coming fast.
Forty-five minutes later, Jody had flown through transition, and it was time to start pushing.
Somebody had let Seth back into the room. By then, Jody didn’t even care. Pushing a baby out left zero room for modesty. And privacy? Forget about it.
She had the mattress adjusted to prop up her back, her gown rucked up high and her legs spread wide, her feet in the bright yellow socks digging into the mattress. Seth was right there. He gave her his hand to hold on to.
Okay, he was practically a stranger, but so what? He was there and he was strong and steady, and she could hold on to him, right now, when she needed him.
Dignity? Self-control? She had none. She shouted and swore and clutched Seth’s hand for dear life.
Was it this bad last time? It must have been. She should have remembered that.
As Marybeth’s head crowned, Jody shouted, “Never am I ever having sex again! Never in this lifetime, no matter what!”
Dr. Kapur let out a soft chuckle and told her how great she was doing, that she should push just a little bit more, bear down just a little bit harder...
And she did and she felt it—the head sliding out. Moaning in agony, she looked down between her wide-open legs as Dr. Kapur freed Marybeth’s little shoulders.
And that was it. Marybeth slithered out into the world.
With another long moan of exhaustion, Jody let go of Seth’s hand and let her head fall back against the pillows.
When she looked again, Seth was down there with the baby. Dr. Kapur was checking her airways. Marybeth let out a soft cry—and then a louder one.
Dr. Kapur passed Seth the blood-and vernix-streaked baby. Seth took her, held her close, whispered something Jody couldn’t hear.
And then Jody was reaching for her. “Please...”
Seth passed her over, laying her down on Jody’s still-giant stomach. Jody gathered her in, kissed her sticky hair, her bloodstained cheek. “Hello, Marybeth. I’m so glad you’re here...”
* * *
Seth stood close to the bed where Jody held her newborn baby.
The doctor got to work cutting the cord and stitching Jody up. Jody paid no attention to what was going on between her legs. She cuddled Marybeth close and cooed in her ear. The nurse, Sandy, approached the bed with a stack of clean linens.
Seth glanced down at the streaks of blood and white stuff on his arms. He could use a little cleaning up, too. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered to Jody. She didn’t even look up.
In the suite’s bathroom, he rinsed away the blood and the milky white goo that had covered Marybeth. With a wet paper towel, he rubbed the stuff off his T-shirt, too. He leaned close to the mirror, checking for more on his face and neck.
Seth stared in his own eyes and marveled at what had just happened in the other room.
Could a moment change everything? Seth knew that it could. A moment was all it had taken seven years ago in Chicago—a single moment to empty him out to a shell of himself.
And back there in the other room, it had happened again. He’d held Nicky’s baby for a matter of seconds. Those seconds made up the moment that changed his world all over again.
In the space of that moment he saw his own emptiness, and he saw it filled with all he needed, everything that mattered, right there in his arms. Life. Hope. The future. All of it in a tiny, naked, squirming newborn baby still connected to her mother by a twisted, vein-wrapped cord.
As he’d held Marybeth for the first time, the past was all around him. And not just what happened in Chicago.
But also another moment years and years ago, the first time that everything changed.
He’d been fourteen that day, the day his dad brought Seth’s future stepmom, Darlene, to the Bar-Y for the first time. She’d brought her little boy with her, too.
“Nicky,” she’d said, “this is Seth...” Seth looked down and saw the kid looking up at him through giant blue eyes.
At that time, Seth already considered himself a grown-up. He understood life and there was nothing that great about it. He sure had no interest in his dad’s new girlfriend’s kid.
But then the kid in question had held out his small hand.
Seth had taken it automatically, given it a shake and then tried to let go.
But Nicky managed to catch his index finger and hold on. “Tet,” he said proudly. It was as close as he could get to saying Seth at that point.
And that was when it happened,