Bride in Barbados (23 page)

Kay's dark brows rose quizzically. "Did he say that he
wants a boy?"

Susan shrugged. "He didn't have to. I think I know how his
mind works by now."

Kay leaned forward in her chair, a look of hesitation on
her face. Then she said, "From what Travis has told me, I'm not sure
you know him as well as you think."

Susan's
determination to deal with Kay's call with cool grace slipped a little.
"Perhaps. Apparently I don't know him as well as you, since he seems to
keep you so well informed."

Kay looked as if she'd been slapped. "I'm not sure what
you mean by that, but Travis and I do see each other every week or so.
When he's in town, he usually stops by my shop for a cup of tea. We've
known each other all our lives. I'm sure it never occurred to him to
break off our friendship when he married, but if it bothers
you…"

"Why should it bother me?" Susan's tone was touched with
sarcasm, in spite of her effort to pretend indifference.

"I—I don't know why." Kay was looking even more
perplexed. "It shouldn't." She gave a little gasp of startlement. "You
can't think there's anything going on between Travis and me!"

"Frankly, Kay, I couldn't care less." Susan had begun to
twist her hands in her lap. To hide her unease, she picked up a
flowered throw pillow and held it against her stomach. "Look, we might
as well be frank with each other. I know you're probably the only
person on Barbados who Travis told about his grandfather's will."

Kay was pensive for a moment. "Yes, and I'm sure he wished
the words back the minute they were out of his mouth. He'd just found
the will, you see, and he was so angry. He felt betrayed by his
grandfather. It happened that I saw him shortly after he'd learned the
truth. I wanted to invite him to a card party. I could tell something
was wrong, and when I questioned him it all came out in a rush. If I
hadn't been there at that moment, he would never have confided in me."

"Lucky for you that you were," responded Susan airily.
"Otherwise, you might have been in my place."

The dark eyes were baffled. "In your place? You mean
married to Travis?" The bafflement changed to a flash of pain, the same
look Susan had seen in Kay's eyes when she first realized that Travis
had married someone else.

"Truthfully, if he hadn't blundered and told you about the
will, wouldn't you have said yes?"

Kay regarded her gravely for a long moment. Then she
murmured, "I'd have married Travis under almost any conditions, if he'd
ever asked me. Until that day when you first walked into my shop, I
dreamed of that happening. Foolish of me, but I kept telling myself
that one day Travis would look at me and suddenly see me as the right
wife for him. The will wouldn't have made any difference to me at all
if that had happened."

Susan stared into the other woman's clear brown eyes. "Are
you saying that Travis never proposed to you?"

Kay shook her head and uttered an embarrassed laugh. "I
gave him plenty of opportunities, too. I did everything but propose to
him
that day when he told me about the will. If he realized what I was
doing, he didn't let on. I've been grateful for that ever since. I made
rather an embarrassment of myself, actually." She took a long breath.
"I don't know anything about how you and Travis met, but I've suspected
lately
that you were unaware of the provisions of the will until after you
were married. Susan, it doesn't matter that he failed to tell you in
the beginning, does it? You're his wife and you're having his child. I
wonder if you realize how very fortunate you are."

The last thing Susan needed was for this woman who loved
Travis to urge her to count her blessings. Had Travis put her up to it?
She was relieved to see Mala approaching. "Would you like a cold drink,
Kay? I've consumed gallons of iced tea these past few days. Our air
conditioning has been off as often as it's been on. We're still waiting
for a repairman."

"Iced tea sounds fine," Kay said. "The scarcity of good
repairmen is one of our trials here. I believe Travis is involved in
that new trade school they're building in Bridgetown. We desperately
need more trained workers, and they're expecting the unemployed to
flock to the school when it's completed—those who can afford
the small tuition. The last time I talked to Travis, he said something
about arranging low-interest loans through his bank for qualified
students."

Kay continued to talk about the trade school and other
projects under way on the island to bring down the high unemployment
rate. Susan listened with interest, making little comment. She didn't
want Kay to know that Travis had never mentioned any of it to her. That
might have been because she had given him little opportunity. They
shared little conversation these days, and when they did, it inevitably
seemed to deteriorate quickly into an argument.

After Kay had gone, Susan, thinking back over the
conversation, realized that she had been wrong in assuming that Kay had
been Travis's first choice as a wife. She was sure that Kay had been
telling the truth; she wasn't a woman who dissembled. Not that the
knowledge changed anything as far as Susan and Travis were concerned.
He probably hadn't wanted to ruin a perfectly satisfactory relationship
by marrying Kay, Susan told herself. Yet Travis said there was not,
never had been, an affair. Could she believe him? And did it really
matter to her if it were true? Travis's lack of romantic interest in
Kay didn't mean that he loved Susan.

That evening after dinner, Travis came into her bedroom
with a coffee tray. He set it down on a side table and angled the
room's two upholstered chairs on either side of it.

Susan, who had been sitting at the dressing table brushing
her hair, turned to watch him silently.

"Come and sit over here," Travis said. "You didn't wait
for your usual cup of coffee after dinner, so I've brought it to you."
He filled two cups as Susan came across the room. She was already
dressed for bed in a full white gown and matching peignoir.

"Coffee didn't sound appetizing earlier, but now that the
air conditioning is back on—for the moment,
anyway—I think I could drink a cup." She tried to make
herself comfortable in the chair.

Travis took the other chair. "You were unusually quiet all
through dinner," he remarked. "You
didn't even mention that you had a visitor today."

"Kay—yes. I suppose Mala told you? We had a nice
chat."

He lifted his cup in both hands and relaxed against the
padded chair back. "Good. You know that I've always hoped you and Kay
could be close."

Susan looked at him over the rim of her cup. "Is that why
you sent her out here? To tell me what a lucky woman I am?"

He frowned, setting the cup down. "I didn't send her. I
didn't even know she was coming."

Susan sighed tiredly, not wanting to pursue the topic
suddenly. It didn't matter. Nothing seemed to matter much lately. Then
she remembered the decision she'd made earlier in the day. "I want to
ask you something. Jonathan hasn't phoned since my accident, and there
has to be a reason. Did you tell him not to?"

His jaw tightened for a moment and then he said, "Yes. I
told you I'd had it with that business. If you refuse to protect
yourself, somebody has to."

"Protect myself—from
Jonathan
?"

"He's a dangerous man." The words were grim.

Susan was incredulous. "That's the most ridiculous thing
I've ever heard! I think you really believe it, too. You can't stand
the thought of my having a friendship with another man, so you've
convinced yourself he's up to something underhanded." She glared at
him. "I won't let you do this! I'm going to see Jonathan whenever and
wherever I choose, and there is nothing you can do or say to stop me!"

He was scowling darkly. "You're getting upset. We'll
discuss this later."

"No! There's nothing to discuss. I've made my position
clear enough—
Oh
!" Suddenly her hand
shook and she set her cup aside.

He came to alertness, sitting on the edge of his chair.
"What's wrong?"

A second pain stabbed at her and she gasped. "I'm not
sure—but I think it's the baby."

He was on his feet instantly, helping her to stand. "You
must lie down." He steered her to the bed where she lay, looking up at
him with wide eyes, and tried to remain calm. "I've had a dull ache in
my back all day, but just now it moved around to my stomach." She
swallowed the dryness in her throat. "There's no reason for concern.
It'll probably be hours yet—if it isn't a false
alarm—but maybe you ought to call Dr. Elliott."

His hands shook visibly as he thrust them into his trouser
pockets. He surveyed her with deep concern. He was in worse shape than
she was! "I'll send Mala up to stay with you. Then I'll phone Dr.
Elliott and that nurse who's on standby." Still, he didn't move. "Are
you sure it's all right to leave you—just until Mala comes?"

She started to laugh, but the sound ended in a gasp as
another pain gripped her. "I'm not going anywhere, believe me. Now go
on. Nobody has a first baby in less than two or three hours."

He left her reluctantly, muttering that he should have had
telephones installed in all the bedrooms months ago. Susan began to
breathe in short, shallow pants as the doctor had shown her. It was
supposed to ease the pain and delay the baby's birth until the doctor
arrived. But the pains were severe already, and she prayed that Travis
could reach Dr. Elliott right away.

Her body was one vast landscape of pain. At first there
had been valleys of quiet exhaustion between the rending upheavals, but
now there was only a huge agony that came in waves, one only beginning
to recede when the next began. Perspiration bathed her and occasionally
a cool cloth was pressed against her cheeks and forehead, and at those
times she saw Mala's distressed face swimming above her. Sometimes she
knew that Travis sat beside the bed and held her hand, and when the
pain crested she gripped with all her might.

A sharp medicinal smell mingled with the faint aroma of
tobacco. Once in her twisting and turning the blackness of the window
impressed itself upon her awareness, and she realized that it was very
late at night. She had no conception of how long she had struggled in
this morass of pain, for she had begun to drift into periods of
unconsciousness, though whether these periods were momentary or long
she didn't know.

And sometimes there were voices.

"I should never have agreed to her having this baby at
home. I'll never forgive myself if…"

"We're doing everything that could be done in a hospital."
This voice was calmer. "Why don't you have a drink, go for a walk."

"No."

"The baby's large and in the breech position. I'm going to
try to turn it. Go into the hall and leave her to the nurse and me for
a few minutes."

"No."

"For God's sake, stand back then. I haven't time to deal
with two patients."

The pain was wrenching her apart, and she felt herself
falling into an abyss where there was escape and surcease. Later, she
drifted back to consciousness and heard the same two voices, the one
tired-sounding but reassuring, like a rippling stream, the other ragged
and agitated.

"It's head first now, and nature will take its course very
soon. Susan, can you hear me? Don't fight the pains, push with them."

"She can't take any more of this!" the ragged voice said,
the tone driven, as if the speaker were also in pain. "Can't you give
her something?"

"That would only delay things. It'll be over in a few
minutes now."

Over… over… over. The word echoed in
her head, and on another crescendo of pain, she heard the ragged voice
again. "If it comes to a choice, you are to save Susan. Is that
understood? I want my wife!"

"Yes, yes." The calm voice sounded only half attentive.
"Mala, make him sit down over there. Get him a drink. That's good,
Susan. You're doing fine."

She was surrounded by light, warm and golden. She opened
her heavy-lidded eyes. She lay in her bed in a yellow gown, although
she had been wearing a white one the evening before. Shafts of sunlight
bisected the room and fell across the foot of the bed. She felt the
tangled mass of her hair and groaned softly. Where was her brush?

"You've decided to join us, have you?" A tall,
white-uniformed woman with serene blue eyes stood beside the bed,
smiling.

Susan tried to shake the remnants of sleep from her brain.
"Are you the nurse?"

"That's right, Mrs. Sennett. I'm Dot Howard and we've
already been through a lot together, you and I."

"I—I don't remember very much."

"Honey, that's nature's way of making sure women will keep
on having babies. We never remember the pain of birth afterward."

"Was I in labor a long time?"

"Six hours. It must have seemed like ages to you, though.
Your labor was rougher than some because the baby was in the breech
position until the very end. That prolonged things, but I've been on
hand for even longer deliveries. It was your husband's first, poor man,
and we had our hands full with you and trying to keep him out of the
way, too."

"The baby—is it all right?"

The nurse chuckled. "That one's right as rain. He's got
Mala dancing attendance on him already. Bawls his head off when he
doesn't get what he wants the second he wants it."

He. She had a son. "I want to see him."

"Of course you do. He's in the nursery. I'll go get him."

"Before you go, would you please hand me my hair brush?"
Susan sat up, feeling a lovely lightness. She ran her hand over the
flatness of her stomach and smiled at Dot Howard. "I have to look my
best when I meet my son."

The nurse handed her the brush. "I've brought a basin of
water and a cloth, too. You can shower this afternoon, but for now
let's make do with the basin."