His Special Delivery. Belinda Barnes

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СКАЧАТЬ in to the smile that threatened. “That’s good, Sara, ’cause I’m a vet.”

      The color drained from her face. “A vet?” Her voice wavered. “You mean a veteran, as in foreign wars?”

      “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Veterinarian, as in moo.”

      She caught his hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “This is no time to joke.”

      “I’m not.”

      “Oh, great! Do you know what to do?”

      “Sure. It’s a piece of cake.” Cal leaned over her and, telling himself he shouldn’t, brushed a sweat-drenched curl behind her ear. This is the last place I want to be. But what better way to end the day from hell, than on the side of the road in a bad neighborhood with a woman…about to give birth.

      “Then you’ve done this before?” she asked.

      “No, but there’s nothing to worry about. We’ll get through it, together. Trust me, okay?”

      His confidence had to have eased her worries, because she nodded, even gave him a tentative smile. “Do I have a choice?”

      Cal shook his head. “Sara, I need to check the baby’s position,” he said, his voice rough and uneven.

      Color now rushed to her cheeks. She bit her bottom lip and nodded. He knew she had to be scared out of her wits, yet she remained calm, something Cal couldn’t imagine his fiancée—ex-fiancée—doing. He had to admit, despite Sara’s stubbornness, he admired her spirit and roll-with-the-punches attitude.

      He waited for a wino to pass, then lifted her skirt. It took another moment to undress her so he could see the baby’s head crowning. Sara groaned and pushed.

      A passing car honked. The shouts of children playing nearby drifted to Cal on the cold afternoon breeze. The enormity of the situation settled about him. He’d delivered foals valued anywhere from fifty to one hundred thousand dollars, but this child wasn’t an animal. Sara’s baby had decided to be born here and now, whether or not Cal liked it.

      “What do you see?” she asked.

      Cal bit back the sudden laughter that bubbled up inside him at Sara’s question. He doubted she’d appreciate his warped sense of humor at the moment. “Hmm. I see his head.”

      “Her head.”

      In spite of everything, he once again found himself smiling at the determination in Sara’s voice. “I’ll have to see the other end to know that.”

      “I think you’re about to see it.” She pushed and grunted, and freed the baby’s head.

      “Come on,” Cal said, frowning as he noticed the bluish tint to the baby’s coloring. “You’re almost there.”

      Sara screamed. Tiny shoulders passed through, then the baby girl slid into his waiting hands. The infant squirmed, and he tightened his hold. Cal checked her mouth and nose as best he could, anxious to make sure her air passages were clear.

      Soon the baby’s cries mixed with her mother’s tears of joy. Unlike the mostly silent births to which he’d grown accustomed, the music of life washed over him.

      Cal looked at the tiny miracle cradled in his palms. He’d held new life before, though nothing this small or fragile. Why did holding this child make it difficult to breathe? He shook his head, trying to clear his befuddled mind.

      The newborn’s eyes opened like a baby bird’s, and she stared up at him. Cal felt as though he’d been bucked off a bronc.

      He’d brought a new human life into the world.

      He’d delivered Sara’s baby.

      “What is it, Cal? What’s wrong?” Even without seeing Sara’s face, he could hear the fear in her voice.

      Doing his best to hold the slippery infant against his chest, he grabbed his jacket from the front seat and wrapped the baby in it. “Nothing. It’s a girl.”

      “Is she okay?”

      “She’s perfect,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

      When he caught the infant’s fist, her hand closed partway around his index finger. He stared at the tiny fingernails, so perfect in miniature. A tremor snaked up his spine.

      After handing the infant to Sara, Cal tugged the lace from one of his patent-leather shoes and used it to tie off the umbilical cord. He’d wait until they reached the hospital and let them sever the remaining tie between mother and child.

      Cal caught a glimpse of Sara as she held her daughter. He knew then he’d never forget delivering this child or the undeniable love shining on Sara’s face. Maybe love did exist—at least between mother and child.

      This mother and this child.

      A smile spread across Sara’s face as she touched her daughter’s cheek. “Cal, what’s your full name?”

      “Calvin Lee Tucker,” he said, wondering why she’d asked.

      “I’ll call her Jessica Lee.”

      “You don’t have to do that,” Cal said, a strange weight settling in his chest.

      “I know, but I want to.” She turned back to her daughter.

      “That’s a hell of a big name for such a little thing.” Cal tried to swallow past the tightening in his throat. “She looks like a Jessie to me.”

      Sara glanced at the baby, then back at him. “You need glasses. She’s definitely a Jessica.”

      Cal shrugged. The baby was fine. Sara was fine. That’s all that mattered.

      Finally ready to get underway, he leaned inside the car as Sara brushed her full lips against the baby’s head. A sudden protectiveness toward Sara and Jessie filled him. It wasn’t something he was accustomed to. He didn’t want to feel it. But he did.

      “I’d better get you two to the hospital.”

      Their gazes met and held. A smile lifted Sara’s lips. “Thanks, Cal, for everything.”

      Warmth stampeded through him as he gazed at Sara and her child. Rattled by his reaction, he closed the door and raced around the car. His mind spun with bits and pieces of what had happened. The weight in his chest grew heavier.

      Cal sucked cold air into his lungs. He dismissed what had happened, chalking the odd feelings up to stress. After all, it had been a lousy day. He started the car and, with a crunch of gravel, headed to the hospital. In the back seat Sara cooed to her daughter. The sound touched a chord deep inside him that reverberated to his soul, feeding a hunger he never knew existed, a hunger he refused to acknowledge. He focused on the road ahead and pressed on the gas pedal. His job would be done when he delivered Sara and her baby to the hospital.

      Then he’d head home. Alone.

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