Barefoot at Moonrise (Barefoot Bay Timeless Book 2) (32 page)

“They’re bringing an ultrasound in,” he assured her. “That’s when we’ll know.”

She closed her eyes. “I already know.”

He reached through the rail to put his hand on her shoulder. “You can’t know anything yet. Does it feel like your bleeding is heavier?”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I know.”

“Then what is it?”

“I know about us.”

He inched closer, barely able to hear her whisper. “What about us, Beth?”

“That we are an
us
. A
we
. A
family
.” She swallowed when her voice hitched. “But without the baby…”

Without the baby, they were…

“We’re not an
us
anymore,” she answered for him.

“No.” He sat up straighter, leaning over the rail to get in her face. “That’s not true, Beth. We are still an
us
, still a
we
, still a
couple
, still
together
.”

“But we’re only together because of this baby, and it was always a tenuous pregnancy. Now it’s over—”

The possibility squeezed the air out of his chest. “You don’t know that.”

She closed her eyes and turned away.

“Bethany Endicott.” Ken stood, frustration stomping up his spine. “Listen to me.”

She looked up at him, her eyes blue depths of pain and uncertainty.

“We’re together with or without a baby.” He leaned over her, placing his hands on her cheeks to underscore his point. “If we lose this baby, we’ll have another one.”

“My tubes are tied. I’m forty years old.”

“We’ll adopt one, then. And even if we don’t, even if we never have kids, we’ll still be a
we
and an
us
.” He leaned all the way over the rail. “I love you, Beth. I love you more than I ever have, and I don’t want to spend my life without you. Not one minute, not one day, not one hour, not one year. My
life
. Do you understand?”

She searched his face, some of that pain and uncertainty diminishing, but not all of it. “I love you, too. But I want this baby.”

“So do I.” He stroked her arm lightly. “But no matter what happens, no matter what, Beth, this baby brought us together, and we’re staying that way.”

Tears welled as she blinked at him and reached up and slid her hand around his neck, pulling him closer. “I love you so much, Kenny.”

He smiled, breaking the kiss to press his cheek against hers, holding on to her and the first really good thing that had happened all day. “We can weather anything, Beth,” he whispered into her ear. “We won’t blame anyone, we won’t hate anyone. We’ll hold on to each other no matter what happens, and we will be together. We will. We can do anything. Nothing is impossible with us, remember?”

She whimpered a little. “You’re right. We can. We. Us. You and me and…”

He put a finger over her lips, not sure he could bear the precious name she used for the baby. Not yet. Not now.

“Excuse me.” A young female tech and an orderly pulled the curtain to their bay back and wheeled in a portable ultrasound. “We’re going to get this started, but your chart said your OB is Dr. Moore, right?”

“Yes,” Beth said, sitting up. “She is.”

“You’re in luck. She’s upstairs in labor and delivery right now, and she may be able to come down and talk to you.”

“Oh, I’d like that,” Beth said.

“Will you go check on Dr. Moore, Anthony?” the tech asked the orderly. “I’ll get this set up and started for the ultra.”

The young man nodded and disappeared, while the tech efficiently set up the machine, asking Beth questions in that calm, trained way of a good health care professional.

Ken wouldn’t qualify as one of those at that moment, because he felt anything but calm. His palms were sweating and his pulse thumped, and he could tell Beth was going through the same stress.

Yes, they would survive this loss if they had to. But neither of them wanted to.

Even though he meant every word he’d said, he wanted to be a family so much he wanted to cry out and insist that the baby be alive and well. Instead, he held Beth’s hand.

“All right, then,” the tech said. “Let’s open up that robe and take a look-see. Do you want your husband to stay?”

“He’s not…” She caught herself and smiled, squeezing his hand. “Yes, of course. I want him here.”

Her husband.
Yes, please
.

They threaded fingers and waited while the machine came to life. The tech smeared jelly on Beth’s stomach, and the whole time, Beth looked up at him, almost as if she couldn’t bear to look at the monitor as it flickered with life.

Life.

Please let there be life.

“Oh, Beth, what on earth are you doing in here?” A woman in her fifties, dressed in scrubs, came into the room, dark hair pulled back. “This is not how I want to be seeing my patients.”

“Dr. Moore.” Beth’s face brightened at the sight of the woman. “I’m sorry. I took a little tumble off a step stool.”

The doctor made a slight face of disapproval, then looked at Ken. “Dad?” she asked.

“Yes.” He extended his hand. “Ken Cavanaugh.”

The woman held his hand a second too long, her disapproval over the accident shifting to…sympathy. That wasn’t good.

“I’m glad you’re here, Ken.”

“Me, too,” he said.

“Go ahead, Melissa,” Dr. Moore said. “Turn the monitor this way, please.”

So they couldn’t see it and have the image burned into their brains forever, Ken thought. He looked down at Beth and saw the blood drain from her cheeks at the same rate he felt it leaving his. He closed her hand in a tighter grasp and gave her a reassuring smile.

“I love you,” he mouthed. “No matter what.”

She didn’t answer but held his gaze, pinning her eyes on him and refusing to look away, like he was her lifeline. And he always would be.

Nothing is impossible. Nothing.

Holding that thought, he turned to Dr. Moore. “So, what exactly are you looking for, Doctor?”

“We’ve already had one ultrasound,” she replied, somewhat distracted as she studied the screen. “But it was a tad early to hear a heartbeat. You’re at eight weeks now, so we should hear…” Her voice faded along with every other sound in the world.

Except the faint, steady, whoosh-
whoosh
…whoosh-
whoosh
…whoosh-
whoosh
coming through the speakers.

“We should hear
that
,” Dr. Moore finished with a hint of satisfaction.

Beth sucked in a soft breath and looked at Ken. “Do you hear it?”

“Yeah. I hear it.” He wanted to smile. He wanted to laugh. Wanted to jump up and down and holler, but he had to be sure.

“And then,” the doctor said, still scanning the monitor with a slight frown. “We want to see…” The frown left, and her shoulders dropped with an almost imperceptible sigh. “The placenta intact.”

“Is it?” Beth’s question was barely a whisper, the fear in her voice tearing through Ken.

“It is.” Dr. Moore’s whole face lit, and she reached out to turn the screen as if she couldn’t wait for the tech. “There’s your baby, tucked right into its placenta where it is supposed to be.”

“That cute little blob?” Ken asked, a hitch in his voice that made the tech chuckle as a palpable relief pulsed through the little room.

“Right there,” Dr. Moore said, pointing to a dark shape on the screen that even a medic like Ken couldn’t quite make out. “There’s no tearing, nothing out of place, and there’s movement. And listen to that little heart.”

He did, but all he could really hear was his own pulse, rushing wildly in his head.

“I’d like to do a quick exam while I’m here to check on that bleeding,” Dr. Moore said. “Beth, have you been under any unusual stress lately?”

Beth gave a humorless laugh. “This is my second visit tonight to the ER. My father had a heart attack and is upstairs in cardiology.”

Dr. Moore’s eyes opened wide. “Well, no wonder you’re bleeding. That probably had nothing to do with the fall, which our little Endicott baby survived quite nicely.”

Ken dropped his head and blew out a breath he felt like he’d been holding since he’d scooped her up and driven her to the hospital.

“Cavanaugh.”

He opened his eyes and looked at Beth, not sure he heard her right.

“The baby’s last name will be Cavanaugh,” she said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of happiness.

“Cupcake Cavanaugh,” he whispered, making one of Beth’s tears spill onto her cheek.

Dr. Moore laughed. “I’ve heard worse.”

But Ken had never heard anything better in his whole life.

Chapter Twenty-five

Once again, Ken stood in the same banquet hall at Casa Blanca Resort & Spa where four months earlier, he’d needed Law Monroe’s glass of courage and kick in the ass to talk to Beth Endicott. Ken could use a little of both again as he eyed the man in the wheelchair across the hall and planned exactly what he would say to Ray Endicott tonight.

It had to be done alone, though. And tonight, even if that meant it had to be in this banquet hall.

He’d hoped Selina and RJ’s wedding on the beach would give him an opportunity to get Ray alone outside, but an early-evening summer storm had rolled over Barefoot Bay, and the party had moved inside.

The weather hadn’t dampened the festive mood of the small wedding, though. But how could it not be a happy occasion? It was Ray Endicott’s first outing since his SCA and odds-beating recovery, and the older man, though in a wheelchair for a while, was in great spirits. Josie rolled him around to talk to everyone, and all the old man wanted to talk about was how his brush with death made him re-prioritize his life and company.

Endicott Development Corporation was officially divided into three divisions now, with Beth and her two brothers each heading one. She didn’t even have to finish the flip, since Ken’s friend Mark Solomon and his soon-to-be wife, Emma, bought it as is and were taking over the complete renovation.

Beth had moved in with Ken, but the whole setup felt temporary and unfinished to him. Ken wanted to change that, but first he had to have a long, overdue conversation with Ray.

When the DJ announced it was time for the bride to toss her bouquet, he saw his chance. “Go out there and get that thing, Beth.” Ken put his arm around her and nudged her toward the large dance floor.

She shot him a look. “Tempting, but my entire family and a good number of people—which would include pretty much everyone you’ve met at this wedding—know that I am four months pregnant. Not exactly ‘bouquet-catching’ material.”

“Have you seen the bride?”

She laughed, because Selina’s pregnancy was far more obvious in her cream-colored wedding gown. As one of the bridesmaids, Beth wore a loose-fitting column of gold that matched her hair and made her skin glow.

Or maybe the glow was due to her healthy, strong pregnancy with a boy—Pookie had won that bet and been quite smug about it, Ken recalled.

“I want you to catch it,” he said.

She smiled up at him. “You know what that would mean, though, don’t you?”

“No,” he said, managing a straight face. “What would it mean?”

Narrowing her eyes, she inched away as a few other women laughed and headed to the middle of the floor. “If I catch it, you’re going down, Cav.”

He reached for her and pulled her back into him for a kiss. “I can’t wait.”

She slipped away and joined the other women as they circled around Selina and the photographer got in place. Ken glanced across the banquet hall but frowned as he lost sight of Ray. He scanned the place for Josie’s black hair. She was never far from her husband.

He spotted her just as she pushed the side door open wide enough to wheel Ray out. The weather must have cleared, he thought, heading around the perimeter of the room to follow them.

Unlike the last time he was hot on the trail of an Endicott in this room, no one grabbed his arm to stop him. All the attention was on the center of the room, where some women squealed and the music built up to the big moment.

Ken leaned on the door and stepped out to the patio, which was empty but dry since it had stopped raining. The sky was clear and faintly purple as a full moon heralded a clear and beautiful night.

He looked around and spotted Josie and Ray at the far edge of the pavilion, taking in the glorious view that happened to include a row of small yellow cabanas that would always hold a place in Ken’s heart.

Crossing the deck, he cleared his throat to make his presence known, and Josie gave a bright smile. “Speak of the devil, Ray, look who it is.” She turned Ray’s chair a little so he could see Ken.

“There you are,” Ray said as Ken approached. “Are you enjoying the wedding, son?”

Son
. He swallowed at the term he was still getting used to hearing. Ray had called him
son
the first time he and Beth visited after Ray was released from the hospital. He’d called Ken
son
the next time they stopped by, when Ken finally had the chance to make that apology that Ray insisted wasn’t necessary. And, of course, he’d called Ken
son
when he and Beth brought them all together to share the happy news of their healthy baby-to-be.