Always Dakota (31 page)

“No.”

They hugged and Calla buried her face in her mother’s shoulder. “Gramps and I had an argument about…things.”

“You and my dad?” Joshua hadn’t said a word. How typical of him.

“I was thinking of moving out.”

“Where?”

Calla’s laugh was ironic. “I thought Hassie would take me in, especially if I came to work for her.”

“She wasn’t keen on the idea, I assume?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Calla said. “She didn’t laugh in my face, but she might as well have.”

The orderly waved a paper. “I have to take your mother now.”

Calla nodded and stood. “I’ll walk you to the elevator.” Holding her mother’s hand, Calla escorted her as far as the elevator.

“Say a prayer for me,” Sarah cried when the big steel doors slid open.

The attendant pushed her inside and then reversed her position so that she faced Calla.

“Mom…Mom…”

Another contraction struck and Sarah was left gasping by the force of the pain. They were worse now, worse than anything she remembered. She was hardly aware of the short journey to the labor room.

“Mrs. Urlacher,” Dr. Leggatt greeted her as soon as she was settled. “This is a surprise.”

“I don’t want to lose my baby,” she sobbed.

“Good,” the physician said. “I have no intention of losing either one of you.”

“My husband…”

“Phoned the hospital,” Dr. Leggatt told her. “Don’t worry. He’s on his way.”

M
att took Margaret’s suggestion that he visit Sheryl and the baby by himself as a sign of her love and trust.

“Are you sure?” he asked before he left the ranch. His arms were burdened with gifts, ones they’d purchased together for Hailey.

“Yes. For the first visit, at any rate.”

Still he hesitated.

“Matt,” she said, and laughed, easing him toward the door. “Hailey’s your daughter. I want you to have some time with her on your own.”

He understood and appreciated her reasons, but he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to do it this way. Today’s visit was going to be difficult enough. If Margaret accompanied him, they’d present a united front, proving to Sheryl once and for all that there was no chance of a continuing relationship. Instead, Margaret ushered him out the door to make his own peace with his former lover.

The drive into Devils Lake seemed to require double the amount of time it normally did. His hands tightened around the steering wheel, and Matt acknowledged how nervous he was. Not about any confrontation with Sheryl; she didn’t tempt him in the least. He wasn’t even worrying about her lawsuit; somehow or other, that would all be settled. In analyzing his feelings he realized his uneasiness had to do with his newborn daughter. This child was the result of his own carelessness—and Sheryl’s greed. Yet Hailey was blameless. During the pregnancy Matt had avoided thinking about the baby, avoided forming an emotional attachment. Deep down, all he’d wanted was the whole thing to go away. Not exactly a mature or realistic outlook.

From the day he’d heard about Hailey’s birth, he could no longer block her from his life. He was about to meet the daughter he’d fathered, the daughter he was prepared to love—already loved. The realization terrified him.

He parked outside Sheryl’s rental house and saw the drapes part as she peeked out the window. The front door was open long before he reached the porch steps.

“You’re right on time,” she said, holding the screen door for him.

Matt had to admit she looked good, despite having given birth only a week earlier. She’d evidently gone to a great deal of trouble with her appearance. Her hair and makeup were done to perfection. She wore tight slacks and a revealing halter top, her breasts almost spilling out.

She must have caught him looking, because she instantly commented. “Nothing fits right anymore.” Cupping the underside of the bra top, she shrugged her shoulders, then jiggled her breasts so they threatened to spill out entirely.

Embarrassed, Matt glanced away and set down the packages. “I brought Hailey a few gifts.”

“How sweet.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

Matt reacted as though she’d burned him.

Sheryl giggled. “No need to be afraid. I promise not to hurt you.”

An immediate argument came to him, but he squelched it. From the moment Sheryl realized he wasn’t going to divorce Margaret and marry her, she’d done everything she could to hurt him. She’d tried to destroy his marriage and his life. If she couldn’t get him back, she was going to make him pay.

“Where’s Hailey?” he asked.

“Asleep.”

“I’d like to see her.”

“Don’t worry, you will,” Sheryl said. She motioned for him to sit. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll get you a drink.”

“I’m here to see my daughter,” he insisted, refusing to take a seat.

“Oh, Matt,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “Am I such a threat? I promise if you sit down I’m not going to pounce on you, although I have to admit the thought is tempting.” She walked over to the liquor cabinet and brought out a bottle of Irish whiskey.

“I said I don’t want a drink.”

She frowned at him over her shoulder. “You might not, but I do. Frankly, I need something to help me relax. I was up half the night with the baby. She’s already showing signs of a temper. Can you imagine? You should see her lower lip quiver when she doesn’t get what she wants.”

Sheryl poured herself a drink, then went into the bedroom.

Matt sank down on the edge of the sofa, but immediately stood as she returned with the baby. His heart pounded so loud, it echoed in his ears. Automatically he held out his arms for his child; Sheryl placed Hailey there, then stepped back as he took his first look at his daughter.

She was a tiny thing, he noted, just like Sheryl had said—so small she almost fit in the palms of his two hands. Her hair was dark and there was a lot of it. She didn’t look like him, but she didn’t resemble Sheryl, either.

“Don’t worry, she isn’t going to break.”

Matt sat down and carefully folded open the blanket, then bent to kiss her forehead.

“You wake her and you get to put her back to sleep,” Sheryl told him, taking a large gulp of her drink.

“I’ll do my best,” he whispered, awed by the strength of his emotions. He’d dreaded this for months and knew now that he had nothing to be afraid of. His daughter was incredible, beautiful, perfect.

“Pretty, isn’t she?” Sheryl asked proudly.

“Beautiful,” Matt whispered, using his index finger to brush a soft wisp of hair from her small face. This was the child who’d caused him such grief, yet all he could feel in that moment was love.

“People say she looks a lot like me.”

He grinned, unwilling to fall into that trap again. “Time will tell.”

Sheryl moved close and perched on the edge of the coffee table across from him. She leaned forward, pretending to study Hailey. Matt knew what she was really doing, and that was offering him a look at her generous breasts. He centered his concentration on his daughter, counting her fingers and toes.

“You want me to open the gifts?” Sheryl asked, gesturing at the bags.

Matt had purposely left them unwrapped. They weren’t gifts for Sheryl. Everything he’d purchased was for Hailey. “Margaret and I picked up a few things we thought you’d need.”

“How nice,” she responded, but sounded more perturbed than grateful.

Enthralled as he was with Hailey, Matt didn’t watch as Sheryl inspected the baby outfits and supplies he’d brought.

“So cute,” Sheryl said.

“She really is, isn’t she?”

“I was talking about this dress,” Sheryl told him.

Matt looked away from the baby. “Margaret picked it out.”

“Margaret, Margaret, Margaret! Is she all you can talk about?”

At Sheryl’s shrill voice, Hailey woke and started to fuss. Matt didn’t know much about babies, but he gently bounced her in his arms. That didn’t seem to help, so he placed her ever so carefully on his shoulder and patted her back.

“Answer me, dammit,” Sheryl demanded.

With Hailey wailing in his ear and Sheryl haranguing him, it took Matt a minute to compose himself. “Margaret’s my wife.”

“You’d never have married her if it wasn’t for me,” Sheryl said furiously. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with her, you idiot. Why am I surprised? Why?” She stood and slapped her sides. “That woman’s no woman. I can’t
believe
you actually fell for her.”

Again Matt resisted correcting her. Insisting that Margaret was more woman than Sheryl could ever be wouldn’t improve the situation. As much as possible, he wanted to keep his relationship with Sheryl neutral, for Hailey’s sake.

“You were supposed to marry
me,
” Sheryl shouted. “How could you do this?”

The baby wailed louder still, and nothing Matt did seemed to comfort her.

“I’m sorry,” he said in an effort to appease Sheryl.

“Not sorry enough. What’s going to happen to us?” She glared at him, her eyes spitting anger.

“I’ll make regular child support payments and—”

“Not me and the baby,” she interrupted. “You and me! Us.”

“Sheryl,” he said as gently as he could. “There
is
no us. I’m married to Margaret. All you and I share is Hailey. I was hoping we could both remain adult about this…I realize the situation’s difficult, but—”

“You’re damn straight it is.”

“If you want to blame me, then go ahead. I accept full responsibility…”

“Of course I blame you,” she yelled. “You’re an idiot. Don’t you get it, you could have had me
and
Margaret’s money? We were good together.”

Matt’s heart sank. Sheryl simply didn’t understand. More than that, she refused to understand. He loved his wife. Marrying Margaret was the smartest thing he’d ever done, and to his dying day, he’d be grateful that she chose to love him.

Sheryl started to sob and covered her face with both hands. “Now look what you’ve done.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Don’t apologize. You’re worthless, you know. Worthless.”

He stood, still patting the baby’s back. It was time he left. Sheryl was in danger of exploding and his own patience was limited. Visiting his daughter shouldn’t include having insults hurtled at him, and he wondered if this would be the norm. He supposed he should get in touch with his attorney, see what they could figure out. What kind of agreement or—

“Make her stop crying!” Sheryl shouted.

Matt wrapped his arm protectively around the newborn and rocked her from side to side, hoping that would work.

“Shut up!” Sheryl screamed at the baby and placed her hands over her ears. Whirling around, she glared at Matt. “This is all your fault.”

“Fine, it’s my fault, but screaming at a baby isn’t going to help.”

“Get out of here,” she said, pointing at the door. “I want you out of my home.”

He hesitated. Clearly, Sheryl was distraught, but there was little he could do. He carried the baby to the bedroom and lovingly settled her inside the crib. It was hard to turn his back on his daughter, especially when she was crying like this, but he had no choice.

“Get out of my home.” Sheryl had apparently regained some of her composure. Tears glittered in her eyes, and he could recognize another emotion there, one that sent chills racing down his backbone. Hate.

“Sheryl,” he said, determined to try one last time. “I told you before—and I meant it—if you want to blame me, do. But if the day ever comes when you feel you can’t deal with the stress of the baby, call me. Margaret and I will raise Hailey.”

“Now you want my daughter, too?”

“Only if she becomes too much for you.”

Sheryl crossed her arms and stared at him with hatred gleaming from her eyes. “I’ll rot in hell before I give you my child. Go home to your precious Margaret and may you both get what you so richly deserve.”

Calla paced the waiting area outside the emergency room. She hadn’t seen her mother in over an hour and each attempt to glean information had met with failure. She tried to sit and calm herself, but that didn’t work for more than a few minutes. When she couldn’t stand it any longer she bolted to her feet again and continued to wear a path in the floor.

Worries crowded her mind. With those worries came regrets. The last thing Calla saw before the elevator doors slid shut was the look of pain on her mother’s face, mingled with a terrible fear. Although Calla knew little about pregnancy and birth, she understood that seven and a half months was too early. A premature birth would probably cause complications, especially since the pregnancy had already been difficult.

Before they’d taken her mother away, Calla had spilled out her heart. She hadn’t intended to feel a thing for this baby. Dennis’s baby. But she did. During the time her mother had undergone bed rest, Calla had spent a number of afternoons with her. Sarah had let Calla touch her stomach to feel the baby’s movements. At first she hadn’t been able to detect anything. But later, when she had, she’d felt a sense of genuine excitement.

Just then the hospital door burst open and Dennis rushed inside. He looked like a man possessed as he raced to the admissions desk. “My wife’s here. Her name is Sarah…Sarah Urlacher. She’s having our baby.”

“Just a minute, Mr. Urlacher.”

The receptionist sounded so calm. She turned to her keyboard and typed in the name. “Your wife has been admitted.”

“Can I see her?”

“It says here she’s on the third floor but doesn’t give a room number.”

“I’ll find her.”

Calla didn’t doubt that he would. Unwilling to be left behind, she followed him. Distraught as he was, Dennis didn’t notice her until after he’d hit the elevator button for the second time.

He stared at her, and Calla shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “I drove Mom here.”

He nodded, but said nothing.

When the elevator arrived, they both stepped inside. It rose slowly to the third floor, and when the doors opened, Dennis virtually leaped out and ran to the nurses’ station.

“I’m here to find out about my wife.”

Hospital staff might not give Calla information, but they wouldn’t ignore Dennis.

After asking Dennis a few pertinent questions, the woman glanced at Calla.

“I’m her daughter,” Calla said.

“Mr. Urlacher, your wife’s in surgery.”