Beauty & the Blue Angel. Maureen Child
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okay?”
“The pains are coming so fast. Really strong, too.” She tipped her head to look at him. In the glow of the streetlamp, his face seemed to pale a little, but Daisy told herself it was probably a trick of the lighting. At least, she hoped so. She didn’t want to think that he was as scared as she was.
Heck, somebody should be in charge here.
“Don’t push.”
“What?”
“Breathe, breathe. Pant. You know.” Then he demonstrated, and Daisy had to laugh despite the pain lancing through her middle.
“And where’d you learn that, fly boy?”
“Hey, I have a TV. I’ve seen movies.” He grinned, but didn’t look down at her. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, as if he could see his destination and wasn’t about to be distracted from reaching his goal. “I know all of that stuff. Boil water. Pant. Don’t push. Push.”
“Well gee,” she said, with a laugh that drifted into a moan, “I feel much better now. I had no idea you were an expert.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t like to brag.”
“An unusual man.”
“Funny,” he said, sparing her a quick glance as he rounded a corner and quickened his pace. “Just don’t push anything out yet, whatever you do.” He glanced both ways at the sporadic traffic, before sprinting across the street toward an old brownstone. “We’re almost there. See? That’s it.”
Daisy held on to his broad shoulders and listened to the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek. How strange. Two hours ago, she hadn’t known this man existed. Now, on the biggest night of her life, he was all that stood between her and delivering her baby on the street, alone.
And though she should have been worried—after all, he was a complete stranger—she wasn’t. There was almost a sense of peace in being held in his arms. As if it was where she belonged.
Okay, hysteria is probably not a good sign.
Where she belonged?
What was she thinking? Obviously, imminent birth put a strain on one’s faculties.
He stopped in front of the well-kept old brownstone, and Daisy smiled in spite of the pain. She loved these old buildings. There was so much character, so much history in every single brick. It was one of her dreams to one day buy a run-down place and bring it back to life, help it to regain some of its past glory. Just as someone had done here.
In the glow of the porch light, Daisy looked at the dark red front door and the petunia-filled window boxes lining the front windows. A tiny garden, bursting with colorful blooms, filled the postage stamp-size plot between the brownstone and the sidewalk. The combined scents of summer flowers swept into the air, and Daisy inhaled them with her next deep breath.
Alex climbed the short steps, reached out and punched a buzzer, holding the button down with a steady, insistent pressure.
“If you don’t let up on that button,” Daisy reminded him tightly, “they can’t answer, you know.”
“Right. Right.” He let it go and waited, tapping one foot on the concrete steps with a staccato rhythm that danced along his body and filtered into hers.
“Hey!” A disembodied voice floated out of the intercom. “Take it easy on the buzzer, huh?”
“Rita?” Alex’s voice finally sounded strained, and Daisy couldn’t help but be impressed that he’d managed to stay calm up until now. “It’s me. Open the damn door, will you?”
“Alex?” The unseen woman’s voice sharpened with concern. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
“Do I sound all right?” He shook his head, muttered, “Sisters,” then more loudly, he ordered, “Open the door, damn it.”
A buzz sounded and the door snicked open. Alex pushed it wider with his foot. Stepping into the foyer, he kicked it shut behind him, then looked straight up.
Daisy matched his gaze, staring up the stairwell, following the line of the polished wood banisters that swept up and up the center of the four-story building. At the third floor, a woman’s head suddenly appeared over the railing.
“Alex? What on earth is—” She broke off and gasped, so loudly that Daisy heard her sharp intake of breath.
“Rita,” he called, “help.”
“Oh my goodness.” She took in the scene in an instant and just as quickly began issuing orders. “Take the elevator, Alex. Go up to Gina’s apartment. It’s empty. I’ll alert Maria and we’ll meet you there.”
“Right.”
“Who’s that?” Daisy asked, shifting her gaze to his face again.
“My sister the nurse. We’ll call an ambulance and Rita can help till it gets here.”
“Okay, good.” Daisy glanced at the well-appointed reception area as he raced with her across the room. Overstuffed beige furniture was lined up against ivory walls. An ice-blue area rug lay in the center of the space, under a huge glass-and-oak table. Pale blue pillows were tossed here and there, giving the room a warm, inviting feel and the scent of fresh cut flowers filled the air. It was cozy, comfortable and peaceful.
But before she could notice much more, Alex was at the old-fashioned elevator, pushing back the iron gate and stepping inside.
“How old is this thing?” she asked warily as he stabbed the fourth-floor button and the elevator lurched into motion.
“Don’t worry. My dad made sure the elevator was brand-new and up to specs. He wouldn’t trust his girls to some ancient elevator. He just liked the antique look.”
“Glad to hear it.” Truthfully, though, Daisy was just glad there was an elevator. With the pain now a constant companion, there was no way she would have been able to climb four flights of stairs.
When the elevator stopped and Alex threw the iron gate open, the first thing Daisy saw was his sister’s sympathetic smile. “You poor thing. Don’t you worry about anything, all right? You’re safe.”
Strange, Daisy thought. But she’d felt safe since the moment she’d first seen Alex back at Antonio’s.
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