Second Chance Sweethearts. Kristen Ethridge

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Chapter Four

      As the immediacy of the birth wore off, Rigo had time to notice the demeanor of everyone around him. There wasn’t really much else to do besides sit and wait. The baby was peaceful. Tanna was euphoric, brushing the baby’s downy hair with the tips of her fingers, over and over again. Tía Inez was in her element, delivering advice and suggestions.

      Gloria seemed reflective, quietly tidying things up as best she could, keeping the makeshift birthing center comfortable by relighting the candles when they burned low and writing down details of the birth.

      As he’d watched Gloria at work earlier, he’d found himself unable to take his eyes off her. He’d pursued his career in law enforcement and rescue because he liked the thrill, the chase. The constant of never knowing what would come next—and the adrenaline buzz that came along with it.

      Gloria was different, though. She had directed Tanna’s birth without lights, without equipment, without conveniences, in a manner that connected strongly to birthing women throughout the ages before hospitals and delivery rooms. In spite of the uncertainty, he never saw fear when Gloria was in that room. She had to have been scared by the hurricane—he knew he was—but even so, he only saw the actions of a woman who was uniquely called to do that very career. Not because she chose it. Because it chose her.

      The stubbornness he used to chide her for. The single-minded focus he used to try and break through his teasing. The drive to accomplish exactly the path set in front of her. It was all still there, more than a decade later.

      So, too, were the things he’d been attracted to as a teenager. The soft glow that caused her topaz eyes to glitter when she got truly excited about something. The fierce protectiveness that took complete care of and responsibility for anyone in her inner circle. And the petite frame that made her look like a tiny, sweet package, like a dulce de leche candy you could tuck in your pocket and carry with you. Looking at Gloria, people might first disregard her—until they later learned they did so at their own peril.

      He’d figured she’d changed over the years, like everyone did, although he hadn’t been close enough in a long time to know for sure.

      But now back, face-to-face with the woman who appeared in all of his best memories—and at the center of his worst—Rigo saw nothing had changed.

      She was a truly unique mixture of dewdrop soft and hurricane fierce.

      The wind seemed to be slowing outside. Rigo left the room and sat at the top of Inez’s staircase, watching the water level bob and shake around the steps below. Swarms of bugs floated on top in little clumps. He checked his watch. It was 2:00 a.m.

      Rigo’s ears noticed a change outside. He clicked the switch on the old weather radio he’d brought out of the room with him, hoping it would spring to life and confirm what he thought was about to happen.

      “The National Weather Service is reporting that the eye of Hurricane Hope will make landfall soon. Citizens of Port Provident are still encouraged to exercise extreme caution during this time.”

      Rigo shut off the radio. He’d heard exactly what he needed to hear.

      “Gloria,” he shouted. “Gather up what you need. Everyone needs to put on their sturdiest shoes, quickly. The eye of the storm is almost here. While it’s calm, we’re going to move as fast as we can and take Tanna and the baby to the command center at the Grand Provident Hotel. It’s the safest place on the island for them. For all of us.”

      From the bedroom, he heard his aunt’s steady voice. “I told you He’d calm the storm.”

      Rigo didn’t want to point out that every hurricane had an eye. It would have been disrespectful to suggest such a thing out loud. Besides, he didn’t have any time to waste.

      Wading through the chest-deep water in the front of the house, Rigo tried not to think about the possibility of rats or snakes taking refuge in the living room. He’d already seen the bugs, small armies that had hitched themselves together to float in baseball-sized groups. That was enough. He reached blindly below the surface of the water, trying to grab the doorknobs to the double doors and force them open. The water level was the same outside as inside. Dormer windows and the angles and points of roofs were all that he could see on the smaller one-story craftsman-style homes and cottages. Everything looked like children’s toys in a very dirty bathtub.

      “Is everyone ready? We’ve got to go.”

      At the top of the stairs, Rigo could make out three dim shadows. Inez stood in front, with Gloria providing a steadying hand behind the older woman’s elbow. “Tanna, stay here. I’ll come back to help you and the baby,” Gloria said.

      Rigo stood on the bottom stair and tried to hold the small johnboat steady where it floated, tethered to the banister.

      “Gloria, reach out and hold the boat. I’ll come up and lift Tía in.”

      He switched places with Gloria. Even though she stood two steps up from where Rigo had been, the water came almost to her chin. But she kept a steady grip on the lip of the boat, pushing it up against a wall for steadiness. Rigo lifted Inez and slowly turned on the step, careful not to slip and fall. He sat her gently on the small platform in the front.

      “Ok, Tía, can you make it to that second little bench? Just hold on tight. Crawl if you need to.”

      Inez nodded her head and began to inch, crab-like, toward the back of the little craft. “I can do it.”

      “Stay there, Gloria. I’ll get Tanna.” Rigo walked to the top of the stairs, water rolling down his back. He’d spent most of his life in the water, surfing and lifeguarding, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever been as thoroughly soaked as he was right now.

      Carefully, he picked up the dozing bundle from Tanna’s arms. Her eyes widened with fear—not only for herself, but for her new child. “I’m going to hand him to Tía,” he said.

      Step by step, he made it down the slick wooden stairs. “Hola, Mateo,” he whispered. “It’s okay. You’re going to be safe. I won’t let anything СКАЧАТЬ