Having His Baby. BEVERLY BARTON

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      Caleb chuckled, then rubbed his chin in mock seriousness. “Let me get this straight. Donna and Jake met...somewhere...nine months ago, got married, got divorced and never knew who the other one was? Sorry, folks, but that doesn’t make any sense.”

      “We didn’t get married.” Donna looked pleadingly at Jake.

      “Oh, so you just had sex and then went your separate ways and Donna made up the story about a marriage and a divorce,” Hank said.

      “He wasn’t suppose to show up in my life,” Donna explained. “Not ever. J.B. was just a weekend fling. I had no idea I’d accidently get pregnant.”

      “So you did use condoms?” Caleb barely suppressed a grin as he looked his eldest brother square in the eye.

      “This conversation is getting entirely too personal,” Donna told them, then cried out when, another labor pain struck.

      “How far is the damn hospital?” Jake ran a comforting hand over Donna’s stomach.

      “We’ll be there any minute,” Hank said.

      Donna clutched Jake’s strong hand and held on to it tightly as the pain worsened and then subsided. Her cry transformed into a whimper and then a sigh of relief.

      “Is it bad, sugar?” Jake asked, sincere concern evident in his dark eyes as he stared at her face.

      “You have no idea.” For a split second Donna was glad her baby’s father was with her, holding her, comforting her, trying his best to reassure her. But the moment ended quickly and reality set in. She didn’t know this man—Jake Bishop—and had no idea what his presence in her life would mean to her and her child.

      “We’re here,” Hank said as he pulled the van up in front of the emergency room entrance.

      Caleb jumped out, opened the back door and moved out of the way as Jake emerged with Donna in his arms. Jake stormed into the ER, past the protesting receptionist and straight toward the nearest person in a nurse’s attire.

      “She’s in labor and we need help immediately,” Jake said.

      “Sir, if your wife is in labor, you need to take her to the admission’s office,” the nurse explained. “After she’s admitted, they’ll take her up to her suite and her doctor will see her.”

      “I’ll take her wherever she needs to go right now,” Jake said, his deep voice a vicious growl. “Somebody can fill out the papers later!”

      The ER nurse backed away from Jake, and Donna covered her mouth to suppress a giggle. The poor woman’s face had gone deathly white and her brown eyes bulged.

      Tallie, Peyton and Sheila flew into the ER behind Jake and Donna. Tallie grabbed Jake’s arm and the nurse gasped as if she thought the big cowboy might strike the woman who had dared touch him.

      “What’s going on?” Tallie asked.

      “Hank brought us to the wrong entrance,” Sheila explained. “We need to go around to Admitting and fill out the paperwork so they can admit Donna.”

      The nurse sighed heavily, then smiled weakly at Sheila. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell this, er, gentleman. But he doesn’t seem to want to cooperate.”

      “Cooperate be damned!” Jake roared the exclamation. “Donna’s in labor!”

      Cringing, the nurse backed farther away from Jake. Tallie shook her finger in her brother’s face. “You’re scaring the daylights out of—” Tallie examined the nurse’s name badge “—Ms. Rivers. There are rules and regulations that she must—”

      Donna moaned loudly as yet another pain ripped through her. Jake’s mouth tightened, his jaw clenched. His dark gaze zipped around the room in a search mode. He spotted someone he assumed was a doctor.

      “Hey, Doc! I’ve got a woman in labor here—” he hoisted Donna a few inches higher to dramatize the situation “—and we need some help for her now, not later.”

      “Dr. Keifer, I tried to explain to this man—” Nurse Rivers said.

      “First-time father?” the slender, bespectacled, young doctor asked as he approached Jake.

      “Yes,” three feminine voices replied—Sheila, Tallie and Donna.

      Dr. Keifer grinned. Jake grunted. The doctor placed his hand on Jake’s shoulder.

      “I’m Stan Keifer, Mr...?”

      “Bishop. Jake Bishop.”

      “Mr. Bishop, we’re going to get a wheelchair for Mrs. Bishop—” The doctor motioned to the stunned nurse, who nodded and raced off to follow his instructions. “—And they’ll take her on up to her suite while you go around to Admitting and fill out the paperwork.”

      “I’ll have to fill out the paperwork,” Donna said. “The insurance is in my name and—”

      “Just give your husband your insurance card—” Dr. Keifer said.

      “He’s not my husband!” Donna turned to Jake, glaring at him. “You can put me down now! I’m perfectly capable of handling this myself.”

      Jake eased her onto her feet, but kept one arm around her.

      The nurse returned with a wheelchair. Donna pulled away from Jake and sat immediately. “Let’s go to admissions and get this show on the road.”

      Jake stood in the doorway, big, brooding and mouth agape.

      Tallie grabbed the wheelchair handlebars and looked over her shoulder at her brother. “Let’s go get Donna admitted before she has this baby in the hallway.”

      Jake felt like a fool. He was in unknown waters here, sailing an uncharted course. All he wanted was help for Donna—for the woman who was about to give birth to his child. The very thought of fatherhood overwhelmed him. The last thing on earth he had expected when he showed up for Hank’s wedding was to find his weekend lover on the verge of childbirth.

      Tallie tapped her foot. “Well? Are you coming with us or not?”

      Without saying a word, Jake fell into line beside Peyton and Sheila and followed his sister as she wheeled Donna down the hall.

      Fifteen minutes later the Bishop clan took up residence in Donna’s suite in the hospital’s separate maternity division. Jake stood in the corner, silent and sullen, refusing to answer any questions from his two younger brothers—and grateful that Tallie was too absorbed in Donna to harass him. Nobody could harass and needle better than his little sister. She’d been a hellcat even as a child. Maturity had mellowed her only slightly.

      He watched with curiosity and concern as the nurses followed what was obviously standard procedure as they prepared Donna for childbirth. Before the family had been allowed into the suite, Donna had changed into a blue-and-white-striped cotton gown. She was now hooked up to a bag containing some kind of intravenous fluids—and to an electronic fetal monitor. That’s what the nurse had called it when he’d asked.

      “Dr. СКАЧАТЬ