Their Baby Girl...?: The Baby Mission / Her Baby Secret. Marie Ferrarella
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next moment he got a hold of himself. He was all she had right now and he knew it.
In its own way, this was really no different from him having her back when they were out in the field on a dangerous assignment. C.J. was putting her life in his hands and he had to keep her safe—her and this baby of hers who obviously didn’t have any respect for due dates.
He offered her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “You know, when they first put us together, I used to wonder what it would be like if I’d met you on the outside.” His smile broadened a little. “This wasn’t what I had in mind.”
This was no time for them to go to places they couldn’t afford to go to. “War—rick.”
He took a deep breath, then stated the obvious because he needed to get it out in the open and out of the way. This wasn’t going to be easy for either one of them. “It’s going to have to get personal.”
Damn it, didn’t he think she knew that? They weren’t waiting for the baby to come COD by parcel post. “Warrick…do what…you…have to do…before…I start ripping off…pieces…of your body…along…with mine.”
He grinned this time. “Nice to know you haven’t lost your winsome ways. Hang in there, champ.”
As delicately as possible, Warrick lifted her skirt and removed her underwear. The moment he did, she raised her hips off the floor, crying out as another contraction, the biggest one so far, seized her in its jaws, tightening around her so hard she thought she was going to snap in two.
She wasn’t fooling around, he thought. She was really going to give birth. It was really happening right here on the seventh floor of the federal building.
“I think this is it,” he told her, his voice slightly in awe.
“That’s…what…I’ve been…trying…to tell…you!” She twisted and turned, desperately trying to maneuver beyond the pain, and failing. She began to pant hard, not knowing what else to do. The urge to push was overwhelming, and Lori had promised she couldn’t pant and push at the same time.
She was panting. What did that mean? Warrick called up every relevant medical program he’d ever watched, trying his best to fathom his next step. The first aid course he’d taken as a teenager had completely faded from his memory banks.
Instincts took over. Needing to reassure her that it was going to be all right, he made his voice become deadly calm. “On the count of three, C.J., I want you to push. One—two—”
She wasn’t about to wait on any lousy numbers. She couldn’t pant anymore. Sitting bolt upright, she squeezed her eyes shut and bore down.
“Now!” she cried.
Ready or not, she was pushing, he realized. “Damn it, C.J., you never could take instructions.” t, then looked up at her. Her face beet red, she looked as if she was going to pass out. “Okay, stop, C.J., stop!”
Like a rag doll whose stuffing had been yanked out, C.J. collapsed in a heap on the floor, panting. She felt as if she’d just run one leg of a marathon. Without securing the baton.
Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she’d pushed the baby out and just didn’t know it. “Is it—”
“No, not yet.”
And then another contraction came, again threatening to tear her in two. She didn’t know if she could take much more of this.
She heard the sound of Warrick’s voice and strained to make out the words.
“Ready?” he asked. She was breathing hard, as if she just couldn’t pull enough air into her lungs. He glanced up to see if she’d heard him. She was nodding. Just barely. “From the top, C.J. One, two, three.”
This time she waited until the last number was uttered, then bore down as hard as she could, pushing with all her strength.
She thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head when she heard him yelling at her.
“Stop, stop.”
Gasping, C.J. fell back on the floor again. She was sucking in air, and her head was spinning badly. She was afraid she was going to pass out at any moment, and struggled to hold on to the world around her.
“It’s…not…working…is…it?”
How many times did it take to push out a baby? he wondered. One look at C.J. told him that she couldn’t take very much more of this.
He took it one step at a time. And lied. “One more time.”
But she knew better. He could fool everyone else, but not her.
“You’re…lying.” Tears and sweat were mingling in her eyes, sliding down her cheeks, pooling beneath her back. “I…can’t do…this…Warrick. I’m…not…cut out…for…this…kind of thing.” trying to push up a hill.
There was no giving up now. He couldn’t let her. “Yes, you are.” His voice was fierce. “You’re the toughest woman I know. Now c’mon, one more time.” Abandoning his post at her nether end, he brought his face up close to hers and implored, “C.J., one more time. Just one more time.”
Damn it, why didn’t he just let her die? “I…hate…to see you…beg.” With superhuman strength, she drew her elbows in to her sides and pushed herself up again. Her head was spinning worse than a top that was out of control. “Okay…let’s get…this watermelon…out…of me!”
Warrick strengthened his resolve. “Let’s get serious now. Ready, C.J.?”
She wasn’t ready, would probably never be ready again. Probably would never be able to breathe right again, either. But there was no postponing this and coming back tomorrow, refreshed and braced. She was in all the way.
It was now or never.
Sucking in one more breath to fortify her, she nodded at Warrick. C.J. screwed her eyes shut and bore down with every last fiber in her body. It felt like forever. She could swear she felt her blood boiling in her veins.
An eternity later C.J. fell back against the floor, hardly aware of what she was doing. Only aware that there was some kind of noise buzzing in her head. No, outside her head. A wailing sound that could have been coming from somewhere else. Or maybe even from her. She wasn’t sure.
Wonder was filtering through him. He was supporting an infant’s head in the palm of his hand. The emotion was almost indescribable. Warrick looked up at C.J. For a second it looked as if she wasn’t moving. “C.J., don’t pass out on me now, you’re almost finished.”
A lot he knew. She had no idea where the strength came from to form the words. “I…am…finished.”
“No, a little more,” he coaxed, infinitely grateful that God hadn’t made him a woman. There was no way he could have gone through this, he thought. “You have to push out the baby’s shoulders.”
There was no energy left to breathe, much less to push. “Can’t…you…just…pull?”
“C.J., push,” he ordered.
Swirling through her head was the vague thought that she was going to hold Sherry and Joanna accountable for not telling her that giving birth was like trying to expel a giant bowling ball through her nose and that everything inside her body felt as if it was being ripped apart by a pair of giant hands.
“C.J., you have to push!”
She had to die was what she had to do, C.J. thought in despair. No, a faraway voice echoed in her head, the baby, the baby needs you. Your baby. You can’t quit now.
“Now!”
Hating Warrick, C.J. propped herself up one last time. She knew in her heart that if the baby didn’t completely come out with this effort, she was going to die this way, midpush.
She