Do You Take This Child? Page 16

  No, but it was a futile debate from where she stood. “I don’t think I can keep anything down.”

  Slade crossed back to her. He touched her forehead with the back of his hand. It was cool, but that might not mean anything.

  “Are you coming down with the flu?”

  She liked the look of concern in his eyes more than she thought she would. He made her feel cared for. “No, just a stomach tied up in knots, that’s all.”

  That he could understand. But she still needed to eat. “Physician, heal thyself.”

  She was tired. She didn’t think she’d ever been so tired before in her life. Not during those endless sessions on duty when she was a resident. Not even when she’d given birth. It felt as if she was literally turned inside out.

  Under the circumstances, her temper was fairly volatile. She looked at him sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He wasn’t going to get into a discussion about it now. His nerves were too close to the edge for him to maintain control. Slade didn’t want to end up shouting at her over nothing.

  “It means that you have to take care of yourself. For Becky’s sake. And your own.” His eyes met hers. And mine, he added silently.

  She turned to look at him. She’d treated him pretty shabbily that last night. She wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to walk out. After all, she hadn’t given him an explanation then why his lie had affected her the way it did. “Do you enter into the equation?”

  What made her think she could get rid of him that easily? “I’d like to. My suitcases are still standing by the door, although I noticed they’ve been moved over more to the side.”

  That had been Ingrid’s doing. And she had been tempted several times during those seven days to unpack them again. “I wanted you to use them. And then when I didn’t, I was too busy with Rebecca to unpack them for you again.”

  He knew why she had gotten so angry. Now he wanted to know why she had changed her mind. “And when did this epiphany happen?”

  “When I missed you,” she said honestly.

  And she had, missed him with an intensity that was almost frightening. With such an intensity that she had wanted to push him away. It didn’t seem right that one human being should have such an effect on another. But she hadn’t the strength to break away. She just wanted him in her life for as long as he wanted to remain.

  Sheila gave in to her emotions. “Oh, God, Slade, I’m so scared. I’m a doctor and I know all the pluses, but I know the minuses, too. What if... ?”

  He took her into his arms and held her tightly to him. He didn’t want her to say it, didn’t want to hear it. For both their sakes.

  “There is no ‘what if.’ She’s going to be fine. Just fine.” He said the words fiercely, as if the sound could make it so.

  Sheila pressed her lips together. She had to face the possibility. “Babies die.”

  He took her by the shoulders, holding her away from him, his eyes fixed on hers. She’d never seen them look so dark, so dangerous.

  “Babies also live. A lot more of them do than don’t. This isn’t a Third World country, this is Southern California. And Harris Memorial is right up there among the best in the country. I know that. You know that.”

  She nodded, struggling to hold on to the fight within her. It felt as if it all had suddenly been drained off. “Intellectually.”

  His voice was harsh, demanding. He wasn’t going to get anywhere by coddling her. He understood that. Coddling would make her fall apart. He wanted her strong.

  “Well, slip the information to your emotional side.” He nodded toward the cot. She needed rest more than she needed food. “And get some sleep.”

  She shook her head. Right now, she was overtired. “I don’t think I can.”

  “Then I guess I’ll just have to make you.” Before she could ask how, Slade picked her up in his arms and carried her over to the first bed.

  The last time she’d been in his arms this way felt like an eternity ago. Had that really been her, then? Had she ever felt light and carefree? She could barely remember.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking matters into my own hands.” As gently as he could, he laid her down on top of the bed.

  “This is for patients,” she protested. She could feel her body crying out for rest. It was only her mind that refused to give in.

  “Of which you will be one if you don’t lie down before you drop,” he insisted angrily. For a doctor, she had very little sense sometimes.

  She had no energy with which to fight him. And the bed felt absolutely wonderful beneath her exhausted body. She felt as if she’d been up for days, but her mind was still on edge.

  “It won’t do any good,” she protested. “I can’t sleep.”

  “Then you’ll lie there,” Slade countered. The hell with the coffee. “And I’m going to sit right here to see that you do.” He dragged the chair over to her bedside and positioned himself between Sheila and Rebecca’s crib. He nodded toward the baby for her benefit. “See, she’s asleep.”

  Sheila propped herself up on her elbow to get a better view of Rebecca. Soft lashes lay against her pink cheeks like tiny dark crescent moons. She has to be all right, she just has to. Sheila looked up at Slade. “She is, isn’t she?”

  “The injection they gave her is taking effect.” He was just saying aloud what he knew Sheila was already aware of. “There’s nothing for you to do but rest.”

  She laughed at his tone. “Hey, who’s the doctor here?”

  “You are.” Sitting down in the chair, he leaned forward until his face was close to hers. “But I’m what the doctor ordered. Or at least I should be.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “I’ve missed you, Sheila. Missed you a hell of a lot.”

  And she’d missed him. More than she ever knew was possible. “You didn’t call.”

  Not because he hadn’t wanted to. “I started to. Probably three or four dozen times.”

  And she had almost called his editor to ask where he’d been sent. But all she knew was the man’s first name. It hadn’t been much to go on, and her pride had prevented her from trying any further. And then Ingrid had become ill. And after that, Rebecca.

  “None of the calls went through.”

  He nodded. “Because I thought you needed the time and the space to calm down. When I make a decision, it’s one of those ‘lightning striking’ situations. I know what I want and I stick by it. You, on the other hand, need a little longer, so I decided to give it to you.”

  Slade took her hand in his, lacing his fingers through it. Binding himself to her.

  “Now that we’re here together, I just want you to know that I don’t intend to get out of your life easily.” He smiled at her. “Or ever. No matter what kind of arguments we’ll have down the line—and we’ll have them.” She was as stubborn, as quick, with her tongue as he was. There was no way they weren’t going to argue.

  And make up. That would be the best part.

  The smile left his face as he looked at her seriously. “You’re what I want, Sheila, what I’ve always wanted.” Even though, at the time, he hadn’t known it. But that was why she had remained in his mind all those months, seductively whispering along the corners of his mind like a siren, calling him home. “A tall, beautiful woman with wit who just happens to be the mother of my baby.” He pressed his lips to her hand.

  “It doesn’t hurt that each time I kiss you, the world tilts a little on its axis and my knees suddenly have the strength of a rubber chicken.” He’d never said anything like that before, never felt anything like this before. And he knew he never would, not with any other woman. “We make magic together, Sheila. I know it, you know it. If I lied, it was because I was desperate.”

  Remembering, Slade stared out the window. Rain was still lightly bathing the panes, sliding down into tiny pools at the bottom.

  He sighed. “I don’t get desperate very often, but I did when I thought you weren’t going to marry me.
Standing there in the hospital, my baby minutes away from being born, I knew I wanted to make things right, for you, for the baby. And for me.” He couldn’t leave himself out of the equation. He was very much a part of it. “So I lied. I think I could be forgiven in a court of law. How about your court?”

  He looked at Sheila when she didn’t answer. But she had fallen asleep. Slowly disentangling his fingers, he laid her hand beside her.

  “Some of my best rhetoric and you slept through it,” he murmured, then grinned to himself. “I guess we really are married, after all.”

  Slade rose. Taking the blanket that was folded at the foot of the bed, he covered her. “Well, at least you finally listened to me.”

  He bent over Sheila and pressed a light kiss to her temple. Shifting slightly, she murmured something in her sleep, but didn’t open her eyes.

  He thought of what he had said to her. She needed to know how he felt. Which meant he had to say it all again when she was awake. “To be repeated in the morning.”

  Like a panther stalking prey in the forest, Slade moved his shoulders, trying to get rid of the ache he felt building right along his spine.

  He knew it would dissipate once he knew that Rebecca was all right again.

  “Is there anything that I can get for you, Mr. Garrett?”

  Surprised to hear anyone in the room, Slade turned. There was a slender young nurse standing in the doorway, peering into the room. He thought of the coffee. He could use some right about now.

  “Yeah, thanks. Coffee would be nice.”

  She nodded. There was a fresh pot on, not five minutes old. “How do you take it?”

  “Thick and black.”

  “Like my husband,” she noted with a smile. She was about to go and get it when she stopped, adding, “She’s going to be all right. Your little girl, she’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah.” The answer was almost fierce, though quietly uttered. “I know.”

  She had to be.

  Slade went to call Andy to tell him that he wouldn’t be in tomorrow morning to polish the last installment of his story. Someone else could do that. Someone else could have the byline as well, if they wanted it. He didn’t care about anything. Except the two people he left in the room behind him.

  The coffee container he’d gotten from the nurse had long since become soggy and shapeless in his hand. When he’d finally drained the last of the dark liquid, it had become cold sludge. But it did what he wanted it to. It kept him awake.

  Or, in some semblance of wakefulness, at any rate. He’d pulled up his chair directly beside the crib and kept vigil through the night, dozing in small, fitful increments. Nothing he hadn’t done before a dozen times or more.

  But this time it wasn’t to wait out the break in an important story, or to interview a rebel leader holed up in the side of a mountain with his guerrilla followers. It was to wait out a fever, waiting for it to break. To know that he had his daughter back.

  Because of her age, he knew just how serious the situation was. He’d encouraged Sheila, using all the right arguments at his disposal, but who was there to encourage him, he wondered.

  Who did he lean on?

  He glanced at Sheila as the sun’s rays slowly slid into the room with them.

  Her.

  He could lean on her if he had to. They could be each other’s strength. In Sheila he knew he’d found a soul mate for life. They had rough spots to iron out, but who didn’t? That was what was going to keep it interesting. That, and the pulsating attraction that existed between them like a living entity.

  He’d make it work. No, he amended, they would make it work.

  With a deep sigh, he set down the stained cup on the floor and rose, stretching his cramped limbs. His mouth felt like dry cotton.

  He wondered if there was any more coffee available. The nurse had been in an hour ago to check on Rebecca. She’d whispered to him, so as not to wake Sheila, that she was going off duty then. Someone named Kathy was coming on. Maybe he’d see if he could find her, he thought.

  Slade looked down and saw that Rebecca was awake. She was lying in the crib, not making a sound.

  Not crying.

  She stared up at him with her bright blue eyes, watching every movement he made. And her eyes were clear. His heart leaped up in his chest. They were clear.

  “Hey, good morning, Short Stuff,” he whispered. “You gave your mom and me one heck of a scare last night.” Very lightly, he ran his fingers along the silky cheek. It felt cool. “But you look a lot better now. I guess they’re pumping you full of good things, huh?”

  He never knew he could feel so grateful, so relieved. “Your eyes are clearer. I’m no doctor, of course, that’s your mom’s department. But I will be able to kiss your hurts away when you get them.”

  He leaned over the crib. Rebecca was looking at him as if she understood what he was saying. He got a kick out of the way her eyes seemed to follow every movement of his mouth.

  “These lips are magic, did you know that? A lot of ladies have told me that. But that’s all water under the bridge now since I met your mom. She’s a pretty terrific lady, your mom. For that matter, I’m no slouch myself. You’ll find that out soon enough for yourself.”

  Slade tucked the blanket around Rebecca. She moved her legs within the bunting she had on as if she was trying to kick them off. Probably didn’t like the confinement, he guessed.

  “You have to hurry up and get better so I can spring you out of here. There’s a lot of things we’re going to do together, you and me and your mom. I’m one of those progressive dads. I’m pleased as he—heck,” he amended quickly. He was going to have to watch his language around her. “Pleased as heck that you’re a girl. We’re going to do all those things together men used to do with their sons. Play ball, go camping. I know how to make a lean-to out of leaves, ropes and ingenuity, kind of like MacGyver.” He grinned at the thought. “And I can’t wait to show you. Your mom and your two grandmothers can take care of the cultural end of the spectrum, but I’ll show you what life’s really all about.”

  He looked at his daughter, seeing her the way she would be in the years to come. He couldn’t wait, he realized, and yet, part of him wanted to keep her the way she was for as long as possible.

  “We’re going to have a great life, Becky,” he assured her. “Just the three of us. So you hurry up and lick that bug inside of you. Show it who’s boss. You’re a Garrett, and Garretts don’t ever give up when they find something they want.” She made a noise and he would have sworn on a stack of Bibles that she was agreeing with him. “And you’re going to want this life we’ve got planned for you. There’ll be some leeway and you’ll have some input, but I promise you, you’re going to love it.”

  His heart felt as if it was filled to the brim. “So hurry up and get better so we can take those tubes out of you, honey. Daddy wants to hold you again.”

  Slade stiffened when he felt the hand on his shoulder. He thought he was alone. Turning, he saw that Sheila was awake and standing beside him, her eyes bright with tears. They didn’t say a word as they took each other into their arms.

  “Welcome home,” Sheila sobbed against his shoulder. “I forgot to say that last night.”

  “Thanks.”

  He didn’t trust himself to say any more as he held her close, against his heart. Where she had been since the beginning.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Oh, Slade, she feels cooler. Touch her,” Sheila urged.

  It was the most unscientific of methods, but she knew. One touch to her daughter’s forehead and Sheila just knew that Rebecca was getting better. Just as she had known that there was something wrong with her to begin with, before the fever had set in.

  So this was motherhood, she thought, where instincts nudged their way ahead of tried-and-true professional training. Sheila smiled down at her baby.

  Though he had done it just a few minutes ago, to please Sheila, Slade lay the back of his hand against the tiny fo
rehead. In response, Rebecca squirmed. He knew she was too young to understand, but it looked as if she was trying to pull her arms free of the tethers that held them in place. She whimpered in what he was certain was the first signs of frustration.

  Slade grinned at his daughter. He knew how that was.

  “She does feel cooler. And her eyes are clear.” He turned to Sheila and put his arm around her. They stood, just looking at their child, relieved beyond words. “See, I told you things were going to be all right.”

  “Sorry I doubted you,” she quipped.

  “Where do you want me to put them?”

  They both turned around to see the morning shift nurse standing in the doorway.

  “Them?” Sheila repeated. She exchanged looks with Slade. “Put what?”

  “The flowers,” the nurse explained, realizing she had gotten ahead of herself. “The nurses’ station is completely inundated with floral arrangements.” She gestured down the hall. “Come and see for yourself, Dr. Pollack.”

  Curious, Sheila and Slade followed the nurse into the hall.

  “We don’t normally place flowers in children’s rooms. We keep them at the station and ask the parents to take them home when they arrive. But this is getting a little out of hand....”

  The nurse let her voice trail off as she nodded toward the station. Sheila approached, staring at the colorful profusion in surprise. There were baskets, vases, bowls and animals made out of flowers placed on the center island where the records were kept as well as on every available flat surface.

  “They’re all ours?” Sheila asked incredulously.

  A tall, thin nurse looked up from the center of the collection. She looked like a bee in a garden trying to decide which flower to land on first. “Every single last posy.”

  It looked like a florist shop had exploded. They’d only been here since a little before midnight. It was only past eight now. Sheila didn’t understand where the flowers had come from.

  “But from who?”

  Slade picked up a card attached to the closest arrangement, a basket filled with daisies and with multicolored balloons tied to the handle. He read the message and grinned.