The Wilders. Mary J. Forbes

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The Wilders - Mary J. Forbes


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it wasn’t just him, Cade thought. This was definitely the strangest situation he’d ever been in, bar none. “Well, if you don’t mind my askin’, who sent you?”

      “The note didn’t say.”

      He had to ask. “Y’think it could’ve been your husband?”

      At the question, they both glanced at her left hand. She wore no ring, and Cade didn’t like the ensuing relief he felt. Didn’t like that he was being drawn yet further into a situation that had all the earmarks of trouble.

      In fact, her next words only notched up his suspicions.

      “Cade, please, I know it’s difficult to understand,” she said rather urgently, taking a step toward him. “Heaven knows I don’t. But all the way here I thought, if I could just make it to you, everything would make sense. I thought you might be…oh, I don’t know—that you might be my husband, or at least someone who knew me. Cared for me…”

      Her shoulders slumped in discouragement. “But you don’t. You don’t know me at all.”

      Her voice cracked, and she half turned from him, one palm still pressed to her belly, the other over her mouth, as if she sought to hold back her tears along with the birth of her child.

      She was apparently successful, for she went on fiercely, her fingers closed in a fist, “I have to believe I had the right instinct in coming here.”

      “The right instinct,” Cade doggedly pointed out, “would have been to stop fifteen miles back in Sagebrush where there’s a doctor with some skill at handling these sorts of situations.”

      She pivoted back toward him. “I know for sure I didn’t pass through any place named Sagebrush,” she contradicted. “Besides, you’re a cattle rancher, right?”

      “What the hell does my being a cattleman have to do with your giving birth?”

      “You’ve probably delivered hundreds of calves, that’s what,” she said, her voice rising with panic. “You know how labor progresses and how—”

      “They’re calves!” Cade broke in, his own voice sounding close to panicked, even to his own ears. “Deliverin’ a baby would be completely different!”

      The room echoed with his doomsday words.

      “In any case, no matter how I got here or why I was sent to you,” Sara said with just the whisper of a quaver in her voice that sent self-disgust slicing through him like a knife, “you’re all I’ve got right now, Cade.”

      Abruptly, her face contorted with pain, and she sagged forward, hands spread on her stomach. Cade was by her side in a single stride, supporting her under her elbow as the contraction intensified, her fingers gripping his forearm, before it finally ebbed.

      “How far apart are they?” he asked, still steadying her while she caught her breath.

      She rubbed her forehead distractedly, as if that caused her pain, too. Had she hit her head and that was the reason for her memory loss? Cade wondered. Or had someone hit her?

      The thought roused a fury of protectiveness in him.

      “Maybe ten minutes or so,” she answered. “I haven’t been keeping track.”

      “Well, let’s make sure we do that next time.” Her face sheened with perspiration. “Should you be up walking right now?”

      “I don’t know! I’ve never had a baby before…at least I d-don’t think I have,” she said, that quaver creeping back into her voice, making him even more ashamed.

      She was right, of course. The doctor had been extremely clear about a lot of things, but mainly that if Cade was this woman’s only source of support to get through this, then it was up to him to convey to her complete reassurance and trust in him. “The more fearful she is,” Doc had said, “the more she’ll like to have trouble. You know that, Cade. One of your mama cows goes into labor, ’specially for the first time, it’s a loving hand and calming voice that’s going to see her safely through.”

      But this is no cow! Cade had thought, as just now he’d said.

      Which he shouldn’t have. He hadn’t mentioned the amnesia to Doc, his own instinct deeming such information best kept to himself for now. Who knew the trouble this Sara might be in, or who in actuality had “sent” her here.

      He decided he’d also keep the observation to himself that whoever or whatever force had sent her was about as reliable as the Texas weather outside, and she’d be wise to hitch her hopes to a different star from now on. Because while he’d delivered hundreds of calves, it wasn’t a process that came to him instinctively. That had always been Loren’s particular gift.

      Whatever the case, as she’d said, he was all she had to depend on right now, as much as Cade might wish differently.

      He noticed her watching him, as if actually looking for that sign, just as she had when she’d gazed at him from his bed.

      Cade realized he still held her arm, and he released it.

      “All right, let’s forget the third degree for now about why you’re here,” he said, pushing the hair off his forehead and back across his scalp. “The next contraction that comes, let’s keep tabs on how long it goes on and how long till the next one. Do you feel more comfortable walking around?”

      “For now, yes.”

      “Do y’know if you had a suitcase or some clothes other than what you’ve got on?”

      “Th-there was nothing in the car. Not even a purse.”

      The question seemed to upset her again, so he moved on. “When was the last time you ate?”

      “I seem to remember stopping for…something on the way here,” she said with that certain vagueness he’d seen in her before. He chose to ignore it, since it tended to make him second-guess anything she told him.

      “So that was some time ago. Doc said we need to keep your energy up but didn’t think you’d be wantin’ anything solid.”

      She confirmed that assumption with a nod.

      “I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of broth or the like. I think there’s some orange juice, though. Would you like some of that?” he asked gruffly.

      “Oh, yes,” she said with a grateful smile, the first he’d seen from her. And damn if it didn’t take him by surprise, stealing his breath away.

      It was just a shade crooked, with one corner denting in, creating a dimple, while the other side of her mouth curved up. Combined with those blue eyes, it was about as fascinating as finding the first wildflower in spring.

      Which made it doubly hard to do what he needed to next. He may as well get it over with.

      “I…uh, I also need to get an idea of how the baby’s going to be presenting, so I can tell Doc.” Cade extended one hand, indicating her bulging waistline, and asked, “Do you mind?”

      She shook her head.

      Uncomfortable as hell, he hovered tentatively over that roundness before he gritted his teeth and touched her. Even through the corduroy of her jumper, he could feel how taut and smooth her skin was. He moved his hand downward, feeling for the baby’s backbone, hoping—there was that word again—to detect it pressing up against the wall of her womb. If the baby wasn’t in the normal position and they’d be dealing with a complicated birth, Cade didn’t know what he’d do.

      “You’re right, I’ve done this hundreds of times with a pregnant heifer,” he murmured, more for himself than for her. But never a woman.

      His touch, he was glad to note, seemed to calm her, for she put her hand over his and moved it over a spot on her belly. “Is that a foot there?”

      The firmness of her swollen pregnancy captivated him, so much


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