Every August before school started, the Andersons played host to a huge late-summer picnic at their ranch. Everyone they knew in Virgin River and even some folks from surrounding towns showed up. Buck had a huge canvas tent he erected in the pasture outside the corral, barbecues were set up, people provided tables and chairs. The Bristols brought their miniature horses and set up pony rides. Jack always donated a couple of kegs while Preacher whipped up some of his best potato salad in a tub so big it looked as if it would feed a third-world nation. There were barrels of lemonade and iced tea, ice chests full of sodas and, in the afternoon, homemade ice-cream makers were brought out of trucks and SUVs, and the hand cranking began.
The barn floor was swept clean and a small band was set up for country dancing. There were children everywhere, running from one end of the ranch to the other, from corral to hay loft.
Mel had looked forward to the picnic as a chance to hold Chloe for a while, and also to do something she hadn’t done before—meet the rest of the Anderson family. She had a passing acquaintance with two of the three sons who worked the ranch with Buck, and one of the daughters had come to Doc’s for a prenatal exam, but otherwise, they were strangers to her.
But not strangers for very long. Each one of them, the sons, the daughters, their spouses and children, greeted her as the person who had given them Chloe. The baby was passed around from Anderson to Anderson, cuddled, swept up in the air, kissed, tickled. Even the little ones—Lilly and Buck’s seven grandchildren—ran to Chloe to snuggle her as if she were their newest sweet puppy. Buck was pretty busy around the barn and barbecues, but from time to time he was near the picnic tables or food tables and she would catch a glimpse of him holding Chloe comfortably on his hip.
The Andersons were wonderful, homespun, authentic people with nothing but tons of love in their hearts. Just like Lilly; sweet, nurturing and tender. The sun was beginning to lower in the late afternoon sky when Jack found Mel sitting on the porch swing with the baby, giving her a bottle. He sat beside her and played idly with Chloe’s dark curls. “She seems to be doing well here,” he said.
“She should,” Mel said. “She’s home.” And it gave her deep satisfaction to know that this was true in all ways.
“I’d like to spin you around the barn a little bit,” he said, leaning over the baby’s head to give her a kiss.
“Another surprise. You dance?”
“I think that might be overly optimistic,” he said. “I do something. I’ll try not to hurt you.”
Lilly came out of the house, wiping her hands on her apron. “Here, Mel, let me take her off your hands. I’ll put her to bed.”
Mel stood with the baby in her arms and walked into the house, Lilly right behind her. She turned and placed the baby in Lilly’s arms. Then she leaned toward Lilly and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You have a wonderful family,” Mel said. “I think you’ll find just the right time to tell them.”
Mel made an appointment at the Grace Valley clinic. She was surprised to learn that both doctors were available, so she requested the OB. Prenatal consult, she said. “We’ll go ahead and put your patient with Dr. Stone,” the receptionist said, and Mel did not correct her. After all, she’d been there before with a couple of pregnant women for ultrasounds and they knew her as the midwife upriver. After seeing a few patients, Mel headed for Grace Valley in the afternoon.
It had only been a short time since the gathering at the Stones’ house and she could no longer deny the truth. She was pregnant. She already knew it. They had plenty of pregnancy tests on hand at Doc’s and she’d used one. Then another one. And another. Half of her hoped it was wrong, the other half was afraid it was.
When she got to the clinic, June was hanging around the reception desk. “Hey, there.” She leaned as if looking around Mel. “I thought you were bringing in a prenatal consult?”
“Yeah,” Mel said. “Me.”
June’s eyes grew momentarily round, surprised.
“It must be the water,” Mel said with a shrug.
“Come on back. You’re with John, and as you know, our nurse is on maternity leave. Want me to stand in or keep out of your business?”
Mel felt a shudder of nervous emotion. “Please, come with me. I think I need to explain a few things,” she said.
“Oh, boy,” June said, draping an arm around her shoulders. “Sounds like it might be a little complicated.”
“Not a little,” Mel answered.
John came out of the back and said, “Hey, Melinda. You bring me a prenatal consult?” Before she could answer, June inclined her head toward Mel. “Oh,” John said. “Well, first things first—June, set her up in there. Let’s get the facts.”
“Okay,” Mel said, suddenly meek and nervous. “But I already know.”
“Don’t try and make my job so easy,” he said with a laugh. “There’s no challenge in that.”
Mel went into the exam room where she found a gown and sheet. She undressed and sat up on the table, waiting. How was she supposed to feel about this? She’d been desperate for a baby, and now she was having one. Why did it feel so damn confusing? As though something had gone wrong, when in reality it had finally gone right.
But this wasn’t what she had planned. And she knew it wasn’t what Jack had planned—he’d offered to take care of their birth control needs. Oh, brother, was he going to be surprised.
John came in, June on his heels. “How are you feeling, Mel?”
“Besides terribly confused? A little nauseous in the morning.”
“Damnest thing, isn’t it? But you’re keeping food down?”
“Yep.”
June set up the instruments and pap slide while John got her blood pressure. “Want to talk first or second?” he asked her.
“Second.”
“Okay. June—can you fire up the ultrasound? Thanks. Mel, lie back and slide down for me, okay?” He guided her feet into the stirrups and kept hands on her legs in case she slid too far and accidentally fell. When her position was solid, he took his place on his stool and snapped on the rubber gloves. He inserted the speculum. “You know how far along?”
“Three months,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. “Approximately.”
“Congratulations,” he said. Beside her the ultrasound bleeped as it warmed up. He pulled out the speculum after the pap slide was complete and gently palpated the uterus, measuring for size. “You’re almost as good at this as I am, Mel,” he said. “You have reached the right approximate diagnosis. Good. Everything’s good.” He pulled the wand from the ultrasound; because this was an early pregnancy he would do an internal probe for a better reading as opposed to running the probe over her still flat belly. “Turn your head, Mel,” he said. “Beautiful,” he added.
She looked at the monitor. Tears slid out of her eyes and into the hair at her temples. There it was, a small mass, limbs just visible to the practiced eye, moving around inside of her. They watched the new life for a little while and she gave a hiccup of emotion, moving a trembling hand to cover her mouth.
“Just about twelve weeks,” John said. “Out of the miscarriage woods. We’ll print you out a picture, though the view is going to be lots better in another few weeks.”
He removed the probe and helped her to sit up. June leaned a hip on the counter and John returned to his stool.
“You’re in perfect health,” her doctor said.
June handed Mel a tissue. “I’ve been there, Mel,” June said. “Believe me.”
Finally John said, “What’s the matter, Mel? How can we help?”
She blotted her eyes. “I’m sorry to do this to you, but it’s just so complicated.”
John reached out to her and gave her knee a squeeze. “It probably isn’t as complicated as you think.”
“Oh, wait,” she said with a weak, embarrassed laugh. “How about I start by telling you I’m hopelessly infertile.”
He gave a little laugh. “Let’s see—you have a uterus, ovaries, fallopian tubes…And I’ve heard this business of not being able to get pregnant from pregnant women before.”
“And I went through three years of infertility treatment, including surgery, without success. We even had one very expensive, very failed attempt at in vitro.”
“Well, that puts an interesting spin on things. Maybe you should back up a little. You don’t have to talk to us, Mel. It’s up to you.”
“No, I want to. I need advice. I’m a mess. See—before moving up here from L.A., I was married. My husband was a doctor—we often worked together. We tried desperately to have a baby. He was killed when he happened into a robbery in progress. That was a year and three months ago. Almost exactly. I came up here looking for a simpler life, a safer life. I just wanted to start over.”
John shrugged. “Kind of looks like you found what you were looking for.”
She laughed. “Virgin River isn’t all that simple. But yes, in some important ways, I found what I was looking for,” she agreed. “Of course, this wasn’t planned. I didn’t think it was possible for me to get pregnant.”
“Is the problem Jack?” June asked.
“Yes, but he doesn’t know it. He’s so wonderful, but he knew from the beginning that I wasn’t quite over my husband. I adore Jack—you can’t imagine—but I still haven’t gotten to that point where I feel free to move on to—” She took a breath. “To another man.” They gave her a moment and another tissue. “This is supposed to be my baby with my husband. The one we tried so hard to have.” She blew her nose.
June stepped forward and took her hand. “It seems apparent that Jack loves you. And that he’s a good man.”
“Good with children,” John put in.
“Whether you planned to or not,” June said with a shrug, “it appears you have moved on. At least in some ways.”
“The last time I gave my heart and soul to a man, he died,” she said with a sniffle. Then she lowered her head and a couple of tears fell on the hands folded in her lap. “I don’t think I could survive something like that again.”
June stepped forward and took her into her arms and John was quick to join her. They comforted her for a minute. Then John gave her shoulders a squeeze and said, “Mel, I like Jack’s chances. Five wars couldn’t kill him.”
“Five wars?” June asked.
John shrugged. “You didn’t know that?”
“I knew he was in the marines!”
“Men actually do talk,” John said.
“That husband of mine,” she groused. “He’s so badly trained!”
“I’m so confused,” Mel said. “I don’t really know what to do!”
“Naw, that’s not true. It’s a done deal, Mel,” John said. “Now you just have to be a little kind to yourself and work through it. You wanted a baby real bad, and you’re having one. Jack—he doesn’t know?”
“No. He knows I’m widowed—he’s the only one who knows in Virgin River. But he doesn’t know how hard I tried for a baby. He’s been so supportive of me in my grieving moments—he hasn’t said a word to anyone, because I asked him not to. It’s easier, you know—when people don’t look at you that way. Like you might be in constant pain. But,” she said, “he also offered to take care of our birth control concerns, and of course I told him I had it covered. I was absolutely sure I couldn’t get pregnant. God, I’d never do this to a man!”
“He’s a good man, Jack. He’s going to understand.”
“He’s going to think I tricked him, isn’t he? I mean, he’s forty!”
“Yeah, lot of that going around, too,” June said. “I remember dealing with some of these same issues when I found out I was pregnant. Jim was over forty when I broke it to him that he was going to be a father. I was afraid he’d bolt.”
“I had surgery to remove endometriosis, had my tubes blown out, took hormones, took my temperature every day for two years…” She hiccupped. “We tried everything. Mark wanted a baby as badly as I did. I’m telling you—I’m completely sterile!”
“Welll….” they both said.
“It’s the funniest thing,” John said. “Nature suffers to fill a void. I can’t believe how many miraculous pregnancies I’ve seen…”
“What if Jack is furious? Who would blame him? I mean, he hasn’t even been in a serious relationship, and here I come. Bouncing into town, telling him I have the birth control issue covered. What if he just says, no, thank you?”
“Something tells me he’s not going to say that,” John said. “But, there’s only one way to find out. And—at three months—I’d recommend you not wait much longer.”
“I’m afraid,” she said quietly.
“Of Jack?” June asked, shocked.
“Jesus, of everything! I’m not even sure I should be here! From the beginning, I thought it was a mistake, making such a big change. I’m a city girl.”
“You’d never know it,” June said. “You seem to fit in just fine.”
“Some days I think this place was just what I needed. Other days I ask myself what I’m doing here. Not only that, do you know how scary it is to think of being committed again and opening myself up to the pain that follows when something goes terribly, terribly wrong? I’m afraid to move on—even though you’re right—I already have. I still cry sometimes—over my dead husband. How can I ask another man to put up with that?” She drew in a jagged breath. “At the very least, we should have been able to plan for a possible baby before…”
June held her hand. “Hardly any of us manages to work things out that neatly,” she said. June lifted Mel’s chin with a finger and looked into her eyes. “I think you should try to remember two things—you have a baby inside you now, a baby you longed for. And a good man back in Virgin River. Go with it, Mel. You’ll know what to do.”
Mel knew John and June were right. It was important to face this head-on and tell Jack as soon as possible. Let him have time to react. Respond. When she got back to Virgin River, she intended to go straight to the bar. But there, in front of Doc’s, was a car she recognized. Anne and Jeremy Givens. It was her time.
When she got inside she found the Givenses with Doc, waiting in the kitchen with a cup of tea. “So this is it?” Mel asked.
“I think so,” Anne said. “I’ve been in labor all day, and now I’m having contractions less than five minutes apart and some spotting. That’s when you said to call, right?”
“That’s what we decided. Would you like to come upstairs, settle in and let me check you?”
“I’m scared,” Anne said. “I didn’t think I would be.”
“Darling, there is nothing in the world to be afraid of. You’re going to sail through this. Jeremy, why don’t you let me get Anne comfortable and then you can come upstairs.”
“But I want to be there for everything!” he said.
Mel laughed in amusement. “She’s just going to get undressed, Jeremy. I bet you’ve been there for that about a million times.” She took Anne’s suitcase and her arm. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go have a baby.”
Once settled in, Anne proved to be only four centimeters dilated. Back at the hospital in L.A. they would call that the price of admission—anything less than four centimeters and you were sent home to labor a little longer. Mel observed a couple of contractions and they were coming strong and long. That business about sailing through was perhaps overly optimistic.
Jeremy was at his wife’s side as soon as he was invited and, unlike Darryl, he was completely prepared for the rigors of labor. This couple actually had had some birthing training. Mel told Jeremy to walk his wife up and down the upstairs hallway and left Anne in his able hands to go downstairs to use the phone to call Jack.
“Hi,” she said. “I have a delivery, so I’m not coming to the bar.”
“You think it’ll be long?” he asked.
“There’s no telling. She hasn’t progressed very far yet.”
“Can I bring you anything? Something to eat?”
“No, Jack, not for me. Doc can walk across the street if he wants to. But listen—my instinct tells me maybe he shouldn’t have a whiskey tonight.”
“Don’t worry about Doc—his instincts are pretty good, too. Mel? My door will be unlocked.”
“Thank you,” she said. “If we finish up before morning, I’ll sneak into your room. Would that be all right?”
He laughed his low, sexy laugh. “It’s always all right, Melinda. I might not be able to sleep for hoping.”
“I’ll hope, too—but for Anne’s sake, not yours or mine.”
Anne’s blood pressure was stable and her labor was difficult. Three hours later, in spite of walking, squatting and laboring, she was still only at four centimeters. At midnight she was at a possible five. Doc suggested a Pitocin drip and breaking her water, which Mel had just been considering. Her contractions were coming every two minutes. Near midnight Mel checked her and with great relief, found that she had progressed to eight centimeters. But then, just thirty minutes later, she was back at five. Mel had been down this road before—the cervix had swollen and appeared as though it was shrinking. That indicated they might not be able to have a vaginal birth. She examined Anne during a contraction when her cervix widened and literally tried to hold her cervix open to the great discomfort of the patient, but it just wasn’t working. Anne was wet with sweat and growing more exhausted by the minute.
It was three-thirty in the morning when Mel made the call to John Stone. “God, I’m sorry to do this to you,” she said. “I have a delivery that might be going south. I’ve got a patient who’s been laboring for hours, stuck at five. Her cervix advanced to eight and swelled back to five. She’s not progressing. We could ride this out, but mother is wilting and I have no indication that…I think it’s very possible the baby’s not going to fit. I suspect I’m going to need a caesarian.”
“Did you pit her?”
“Yeah. Pitocin running and I broke her water.”
“Okay, stop the pit, turn her on her left side. How long has she been laboring, stuck at four or five?”
“Ten hours with me. She labored at home for about eight.”
“Have you tried stretching the cervix?”
“Unsuccessfully,” she said. “Our ultrasound at your clinic showed a competent pelvis and average-size baby.”
“Things change,” he said. “Any fetal distress?”
“Not yet. The doptone shows a strong, regular, even heart rate, but mother’s pressure is up a bit.”
“You could ride this out awhile, but if she’s exhausted, I vote for not waiting. I’ll meet you at Valley. Can you make the drive or do you need helicopter transport?”
“We’ve got some real good shocks on that Hummer,” she said. “Either way, she’s an hour or more from the hospital. I’ll wake Jack. Get his help.”
Mel checked Anne once more; she had finally made six centimeters, but she was weakening. Anne’s heart rate was increasing and the baby’s had dropped just slightly. Jeremy was growing nervous and pale despite the number of times Mel reassured him that this wasn’t unusual. It was starting to look like even if the baby was going to fit, Anne might not have the energy to push him out.
It was 4:00 a.m. when Mel called Jack. He didn’t sound as though he’d been asleep. “Jack, I’m going to have to transport my patient to Valley Hospital for a caesarian. John’s going to meet us there. I could use some help.”
“Be right there,” he said.
“I’ll try to get her downstairs and then if you’ll—”
“No, Mel,” Jack said. “Leave her where she is. I’ll get her downstairs. I wouldn’t want both of you to fall.”
“Okay, sure. Thanks.”
Then she went back to her patient. Although Doc was standing by, this was Mel’s case and a decision like this was entirely hers. “Anne,” she said, gently brushing the hair away from her soaking brow. “We’re going to transport you to Valley Hospital for a C-section….”
“Nooo,” she cried. “I want to have the baby normally.”
“Nothing abnormal about a C-section,” she said. “It’s a good operation, and it keeps you and the baby out of distress. Fortunately, we have the time so you’re not at major risk. But with the distance to the hospital, we shouldn’t wait until you are. It’s going to be fine, Anne.”
“Oh, God,” she cried.
Then she was gripped by another hard contraction and fear gave way to pain. Her husband tried the breathing with her, but after all these hours of hard labor, it was futile. She had very little space between contractions and some residual pain that made it feel, to her, as if her contractions were continual, back to back.
Mel had had tough deliveries before, but it was different in the hospital, when you could just wheel your patient down the hall to surgery and let the surgeons and anesthesiologist take over; in a hospital she would give the mother every chance to make it through, if she wanted to try. It was different for her here, when the hospital was so far away, staffed and equipped for only routine procedures and surgeries. She couldn’t help but feel very disappointed for Anne, who had so looked forward to a natural childbirth with her husband.
“Anne, it’s just one of those things. Sometimes a C-section is the best answer,” Mel said. “You’re not going to have this baby here, but we want you to have as many healthy births as you desire.”
“Of course you’re right,” she answered breathlessly.
Mel heard the front door open, Jack’s feet on the stairs and then his voice outside the door. “Mel?”
She pushed the door open.
“Let me take her down for you. I’ll drive you to the hospital in the Hummer.”
“Thanks. Come in. Just let her get through this next contraction.”
Jack stepped into the room and nodded at Jeremy. “How you doing, man?” he asked. “I’m going to carry your wife downstairs for you—you look pretty exhausted. You and Mel can ride in back with her and I’ll drive.” As soon as Anne seemed to relax a bit, Jack bent over the bed and lifted her easily into his arms. “Hang on, kiddo,” he said. “I’ll get you down before the next one hits, how’s that?”
Mel grabbed her bag and said, “Jeremy, please get Anne’s suitcase.” She followed Jack downstairs, grabbed her coat and while Jack held Anne, she opened up the back of the Hummer and slid out the gurney. “Anne, I want you on your left side, please.” Once she was situated, Mel and Jeremy climbed in on either side of her, kneeling, while Jack got behind the wheel and took off in the direction of Valley Hospital.
Mel kept the fetoscope handy and blood pressure cuff on Anne’s upper arm. She checked her pressure and the fetal heartbeat every few minutes. They were nearly halfway when she reached forward and put a thankful hand on Jack’s shoulder. His hand automatically came up to cover hers. “You were still awake,” she said softly.
“In case you needed anything,” he answered.
She gently squeezed his shoulder, but what she really wanted to do was throw her arms around him. She so appreciated the way he instinctively supported her in her work.
When they got to the hospital they entered the emergency room and, once inside, Mel handed Jack her coat and said, “You should move the SUV. Jeremy and I will take her up to labor and delivery. John’s meeting us. I hate to ask you, but…”
“Of course I’ll wait. I’ll be right here. Don’t worry about me.”
“Am I going to be allowed in?” Jeremy asked while they were in the elevator.
“That’s going to be up to Dr. Stone,” she said. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”
Mel pushed the gurney through the swinging doors and was very happy to see John standing at the sink, finishing his scrub. Hands held up, he turned toward her and gave a nod and a smile. “Number two is set up, Mel. The anesthesiologist is here.”
Beside him at the adjoining sink, pumping the faucet pedal with her foot, was a nurse in scrubs, her mask tied around her neck. She looked over at Mel and with a sarcastic twist of her lips, said, “Another botched home birth?”
Mel’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened as if slapped. John whirled on the nurse, glaring at her. Then John turned back to Mel and said, “Can you scrub in with me, Mel?”
“I’m prepared to assist, Dr. Stone,” the nurse said from behind him.
“Thank you, Juliette, but I’m leaning toward someone more professional. You and I will talk later.” And to Mel, “You have less than fifteen minutes.”
“Certainly. Jeremy wants to be there,” she said.
“Of course. Juliette, find the father some scrubs. Mel, you’ll find some in the locker room. Shake a leg.”
Mel pushed the gurney to operating room number two and let the circulating nurse pull Anne into the room. She donned green scrubs in the locker room and joined Jeremy at the sink, saying, “If you scrub in, the doctor might be inclined to let you hold your son when he’s born. Just like this,” she said, demonstrating the scrubbing technique. “No guarantees on that, so no pouting. And you’ll have to stay at Anne’s head.”
“Have you done this before?” he asked her. “Assisted in a C-section?”
“Many times,” she said.
“Mel?” he asked. “It wasn’t botched, was it?”
“Of course not. What Anne experienced wasn’t all that unusual. You were there, Jeremy. You see anything happen that bothered you? I trust you would’ve said something or at least asked a question or two.” She smiled at him. “You have one stubborn little boy to raise. Fortunately, we have a very good surgeon at our disposal.”
By the time they entered the operating room, Anne had received her spinal from the anesthesiologist and was much more comfortable. John was ready to begin and Mel took her place next to him, her instruments lying out on the mayo stand.
“Scalpel,” he said.
She slapped it into his hand. “Thank you,” she said. “For what you did out there.”
“She’s a good nurse, but I never figured her for jealous. I apologize for her. We’re ready to retract,” he said. He chuckled. “You do a damn fine job, Mel. I’d let you deliver my wife in a second.”
The ride back to Virgin River wasn’t exactly quiet—Jeremy was a literal motormouth. Jack heard the details of the surgery several times. While Jeremy’s wife was in recovery and his son in the nursery, he needed a lift home to fetch his own vehicle so he could go back. He chattered while Jack drove, and Mel’s head lolled on the seat beside him.
“Exhausted, baby?” he asked her.
“I’ll be fine after a nap,” she said.
“Mel assisted Dr. Stone,” Jeremy sounded from the back. “He asked her to. It was incredible. The things she knows how to do.”
Jack glanced over at her and smiled. “You know what’s incredible, Jeremy?” Jack said. He reached over and squeezed her thigh. “She never surprises me.”
It was 9:00 a.m. before they got back to Virgin River. Mel checked in with Doc. “Mother and baby came through very well. John Stone is a wonderful, fast surgeon.”
“Good call,” he said. “For a city girl.” And then he treated her to a rare smile.
She found there were only three people scheduled for morning appointments and Doc was more than capable. She had asked Jack to give her a call in five or six hours—she didn’t want to sleep all day or she wouldn’t sleep that night. But the labor and delivery had been taxing and she was spent.
Jack helped Preacher serve lunch, then he went to the river to fish for a couple of hours. He had a lot on his mind. It hadn’t escaped him that Mel had been moody lately. He’d seen suspicious evidence of tears. And she wasn’t drinking that end-of-the-day beer—she played with it for a little while before pushing it aside and asking for ice water.
At about three in the afternoon, while Preacher worked on preparing the evening meal, he went out to the cabin. He took off his boots on the front porch and tiptoed into the house. He stripped down to his boxers and slipped into the bed beside her, gently kissing her neck. She stirred slightly, turned her head and smiled at him.
“Now this is a good way to wake up,” she murmured, closing her eyes again and snuggling closer to him.
He held her for a long while, then his hands began to move. Softly and sweetly. Before even seconds passed, her hands began to move, as well, and she pressed herself against him. When she began to strain against him, he got rid of the T-shirt she slept in and the boxers he still wore. He made gentle love to her, careful to keep her comfortable and safe, even as she picked up that eager pace, that frenetic yearning that drove him wild. He knew her body as well as she did herself by now, and he knew exactly what gave her the most pleasure.
She settled back to earth slowly. “I thought you were going to call,” she said.
“Isn’t this better?”
“You always know what to do,” she said.
“Not always,” he said, holding her close. “Right now, for example. I’m not sure what to do.”
“Why?” she asked, her eyes still closed, her face buried in his chest.
“When are you going to tell me?”
She lifted her head. “Tell you?”
“About the baby.”
“But Jack, you know the baby and mother are—”
“The baby inside of you,” he said, placing a large hand over her flat tummy.
A startled look crossed her features. She pushed him away a little bit. “Did someone say something to you?” she asked.
“No one had to say anything. Please tell me I’m not the last to know.”
“I just saw John yesterday—and how in the world would you know?”
“Mel,” he said, running the back of one knuckle along her cheek. “Your body’s changing. You haven’t had a period. For a while, I thought maybe you’d had a hysterectomy or something because I haven’t noticed a period since the first time we made love, but there’s a blue box under the bathroom sink. You don’t drink your beer, and you get nauseous from time to time. Not to mention being more tired than usual.”
“Lord,” she said. “You never think a man will notice. Not things like that.”
“Well?”
She sighed. “I went to see John yesterday to confirm what I already suspected. I’m pregnant. Three months.”
“You’re a midwife. How could you not know at three weeks?”
“Because I assumed I was sterile. Infertile. Mark and I did everything to try to get a baby—even in vitro fertilization. To no avail. This was the last thing I ever expected.”
“Ah,” he said, finally clear on why she might keep it from him. “So, here we are,” he said.
“I’m sorry, Jack. You must think I’m an idiot.”
He kissed her. “Of course not. Mel, I’m in love with you.”
She was frozen for a second. “Oh, God,” she finally said, plummeted into tears. “Oh, God, Jack!” She buried her face in his chest and wept.
“Hey, no reason to cry, baby. You a little surprised? No more than me,” he laughed. “I never thought this could happen to me. It hit me so hard, I damn near fell down. But I love you.” She continued to softly cry. “It’s okay, honey. It’ll be okay.” He stroked her hair. “You want to have a baby, obviously.”
She lifted her head. “I wanted a baby so badly, I ached. But do you?” she asked. “I mean, you’re forty.”
“I want everything with you. Everything. Besides, I like babies. And I’m wild about pregnant women.”
“When did you decide you knew for sure?” she asked him.
“At least a month ago.” He put a hand over her breast. “Sore? Haven’t you noticed the changes? Your nipples have darkened.”
“I was in denial,” she said, wiping at her tears. “I was so desperate for a baby—but I had accepted that it couldn’t happen. I wouldn’t have done it this way.”
“And how would you have done it, exactly?”
“If I thought it even remotely possible I could get pregnant, I would have at least been sure you wanted a family, so that we could make a decision like this together. Fully informed. So if it happened, it would be okay. I hate that you’ve had this thrust on you. With no warning.”
“That wasn’t going to happen, not under the circumstances. It never would have occurred to you to try for a baby—convinced it was impossible. So—maybe it’s a good thing it just happened like this.”
“And what if it had gone the other way? What if I told you the thing I wanted most in the world was a baby, asked you to try for one with me?”
He pulled her a little closer. “I’d have been happy to help out.” Then he smiled into her eyes.
“I don’t know what to say. You just accept everything. You’re amazing. I thought you might be very pissed.”
“Nah. The only thing that disappoints me is that it took me this long to find you.”
“Even with all my baggage?” she asked.
“I don’t consider this baggage.” He leaned over and kissed her belly. “I consider this the grand prize.”
“You want it?” she asked.
“I told you,” he said. “I want it. It makes me happy.”
“God,” she said in a breath. “I was afraid.”
“Of?”
“Of you saying, ‘Holy shit—I’m forty! What do I want with a baby?’”
He laughed at her. “I didn’t say that, did I? Nah, I’m ready. A family sounds good.”
“Jack,” she said. “I’m still afraid.”
“Of?”
“Of believing in us. My last stab at something like this ended so, so badly. I thought I’d never get over it. I’m not sure I am yet.”
“Well, you’re just going to have to take a leap of faith,” he said.
“I think I can do that,” she said. “If you’re there to catch me.”
“I’m here,” he said. “I haven’t let you down yet, have I?”
She put her hand against his face. “No, Jack. You sure haven’t.”
Jack had seen his brothers-in-law, all puffed up with testosterone pride when they’d gotten their wives pregnant, when the babies came. He never pretended to really understand it. He was too busy with his career, with his troops, when it seemed to him a woman getting pregnant was probably the worst career suicide a man could suffer. He didn’t get their male egos; he thought his sisters were just getting fat and mean.
He got it now. He felt as though his chest might explode. There was a fire in his belly and it was all he could do to keep from running up a flag. He couldn’t wait until he and Mel could make some plans, get married, tell the world they were lifetime partners and bringing a baby on board.
She shooed him out of the cabin, told him to go take care of the dinner crowd while she showered off that long night with a patient. She promised to drive into town to have a diet cola at the bar and tell those present that Anne and Jeremy and their baby boy were doing fine. Then later, they’d go back home together.
He was almost to town when he turned around to go back. Preacher might get testy, being stuck with the bar and cooking, too, but he just had to hold her for a minute more. He tiptoed up the porch steps, took off his boots, and silently opened the door. He expected to hear the shower running, but instead he heard her weeping.
“I’m sorry,” she was saying through her tears. “I’m so, so sorry.” Then she sobbed briefly. “I never planned this. Oh, Mark, please understand…”
He stole a peek into the bedroom and saw Mel sitting on the edge of her bed, talking to the picture of her dead husband. It cut through him like a knife; damn near ripped his heart out.
“Please understand—this was the last thing I expected,” she cried. “It’s just the way it happened, and it took me by surprise. Total surprise. I promise I’ll never forget you!”
He cleared his throat and she jumped. She looked at him, tears running down her cheeks. “Jack!” she gasped.
He held up a hand. “I’ll go,” he said. “You can work this out with Mark. I’ll see you later.”
He turned to leave and she ran after him, tugging on his shirt. “Jack, please…”
“It’s okay, Mel,” he said, profound sadness showing in his eyes. He forced a smile. “It’s not as if I didn’t know what I was up against.”
“No! You don’t understand!”
“Sure I do,” he said, tenderly touching her cheek. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere. Except back to the bar. I think I need a drink.”
Jack walked out of the cabin, collected his boots on her porch and got back into his truck. So, he thought. Probably the best day of my life, turned to total shit. She’s still back there, with him. She can love you like she’s yours, but she’s not. Not yet.
Hadn’t he always known this was the risk he was taking, as long as he loved her? That she might not be able to let go of him? Ever?
What the hell, he told himself. She might never really belong to me; good thing he can’t come back from the grave and snatch her away. But that baby is mine. And I want it. I want her. Whatever she has to spare…