Wilder Hearts: Once Upon a Pregnancy. RaeAnne Thayne

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СКАЧАТЬ another mother would have disclosed on her own, she’d been completely taken aback. Not just by the terrible news, but by the blatant reminder that she and her mom had never been close, that they never would be.

      And thanks to their dysfunctional relationship, Simone would never be able to create a warm, loving family of her own.

      After the call, when Mike had held her, when he’d kissed her, she’d wanted so badly to accept all that he’d been willing to give her.

      But how could she when she knew she’d always hold back? When she knew she’d always retreat to that special place in her mind where no one could ever hurt her again?

      As she climbed from bed, another bout of morning sickness struck with a vengeance, and she hurried to the bathroom. When it was all over—God, she hated being sick—she washed her face, returned to the bedroom and sat on the edge of mattress. Then she dialed her mother’s house.

      After the third ring, a click sounded. Simone opened her mouth to respond, but when the canned voice of her mom’s answering machine began its recitation, she blew out a ragged sigh instead.

      “You have reached 518–555–2467. I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number, I’ll return your call at my earliest convenience.”

      Simone cleared her throat. “Hi, Mom. It’s me. I just wanted to touch base and see how you’ve been. Please give me a call when you can. It’s—” she glanced at the clock on the bureau “—it’s ten-fifteen on Thursday. I have to go into work this afternoon around three, but I should be close to home until then. I love you.”

      As she hung up the phone, she realized that she always ended her calls that way. I love you.

      But did she?

      Did that little girl inside of her still exist? The one who’d desperately wanted to hear those three little words repeated and know, without a doubt, that her mother truly meant them?

      No. That lonely child had faded into the past when Simone hit high school, where she learned that she could get the affirmation, respect and attention she craved from her teachers. So, as a result, she studied hard and excelled—especially in science.

      At one time, she’d actually thought about going to medical school, but the cost was prohibitive, especially without any family support. So she’d settled for nursing school, where she graduated at the top of her class.

      Fifteen years ago, she landed a job at Walnut River General and worked on any floor she was assigned. But she soon found her real calling in the emergency room, where she gained the respect of patients, coworkers and administrators alike.

      One nice thing about the E.R. was that Simone could become personally involved with the patients for a few hours, then was able to back off as they either went home or were sent to other floors in the hospital.

      Yes, she’d overcome a lot in the past thirty-seven years, but she still found it difficult to actually connect with people.

      When the rubber ball Mike and the dogs had been playing with hit the side of the house, the wooden window frame and the glass shook and shuddered.

      Simone peered out into the yard to see what was going on outside.

      Through the pane of glass separating them, Mike caught her gaze, smiled and shrugged at the same time. Then he mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

      She was sorry, too. Sorry that she couldn’t pin her heart and her dreams on Mike O’Rourke. That she couldn’t create something she’d never had.

      Once upon a time, she’d hoped and prayed to have what other children had been blessed with, but that dream had faded along with that little brown-haired girl who used to cry herself to sleep each night.

      The child whose mother had looked at her newborn for the very first time and determined that she was unlovable.

      Mike had found his true calling when he’d pursued EMT training at the local junior college.

      In fact, he loved everything about his job—the adrenaline rush, the satisfaction of saving a life.

      Sure, there were times when it was tough, times when he came upon an accident victim too late to be of any help.

      He didn’t like having to look into the eyes of a victim’s family and tell them there was nothing left to do but to call the coroner. But he accepted that as part of life, as part of his job.

      Tonight, just after eight o’clock, he and Leif were sitting around the television at the station with several other guys when the next call came in, and the men all sprung into action.

      Four and a half minutes later, they arrived at the scene of a car accident that had occurred when a seventy-six-year-old woman ran a stop sign at the intersection of Lexington and Pine, broadsiding a vehicle driven by a sixteen-year-old boy.

      The teenager in a white Honda Accord had suffered a possible skull fracture, lacerations to the face and a broken collarbone.

      The elderly woman had been hurt, too. But Mike suspected she might have had a seizure or ministroke while behind the wheel, which had probably caused the accident. They wouldn’t know for sure until she was examined at the hospital.

      Eight minutes after the arrival of the paramedics on the scene, both victims were loaded in the ambulance and en route to Walnut River General.

      As Leif and Mike monitored the vitals of the victims, the flashing red lights and siren alerted the other cars on the road to pull over and let the emergency vehicle pass.

      Simone was working tonight, and Mike hoped that after the patients were stabilized he’d have a chance to see her, to talk to her.

      After passing both the teenager and the woman to the E.R. staff, Mike and Leif stopped by the nurses’ desk to complete the necessary paperwork.

      “Hey,” Leif said, nodding toward an open doorway, where Simone stood at the bedside of a young girl who had a gash in her leg. “If you’re both working, who’s looking after the dogs?”

      “We decided to leave them alone tonight and hope for the best.” Mike glanced up from the form he’d signed. “I sure hope they don’t disturb her neighbors. They get a little loud and rambunctious sometimes.”

      The radio squawked, and Leif responded, alerting dispatch that the medics were available again. When he’d done so, he excused himself. “I’m going to get a soda. Want me to get you one?”

      “No, I’m fine.”

      As Leif walked away, Mike took the time to study Simone, to watch her interact with a frightened little girl he guessed to be about six or seven years old.

      Simone took a disposable glove from a box, blew into the opening to create a balloon, then knotted the end. The fingers stood straight up, resembling either a rooster’s comb or a kid’s Mohawk. Then she took a black pen and drew a pair of eyes above the thumb and a mouth below it.

      The result brought forth a smile on the child’s face, providing some relief from her pain and fear.

      Why couldn’t Simone see in herself what he saw in her—the compassion, the dedication, СКАЧАТЬ