Falling For Zoe (The Camerons of Tide's Way #1) (22 page)

A bolt of panic shot through her all over again. Her mother had been alone when Zoe’s baby brother was born. By the time someone found her, she was unconscious. Bobby had lived, but her mother hadn’t. Zoe had been told her mother’s uterus had just worn out. Too many babies had robbed it of the resilience needed to contract and stop the bleeding. Zoe was younger, and this was her first baby, but the thought of being alone still terrified her. Alone was far worse than the indignity of Jake seeing her like this. If she couldn’t have Bree, Jake was the next best friend she had.

Hurricane Gertie howled outside. Zoe’s windows whistled under the onslaught, and bits of debris and broken branches rattled against the sides of the house. It would have been scary enough even if she hadn’t been in labor.

“Please, don’t leave me.” She sounded like a coward, but she couldn’t help it.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Jake leaned down to wipe her face with the corner of a damp towel. “I promised. Besides, I need to keep my little buddy here company.” Jake set the Smurf on the floor beside her. “You want to try lying on your side? I could rub your back a little. It might help you feel more comfortable.”

Zoe eased over onto her side and pulled her knees up under her swollen belly. Jake’s warm hands began to work their way down her spine. Zoe groaned in pleasure.

Jake popped his head over her shoulder and looked into her face. “You okay?”

She nodded. His head disappeared again, and the massage resumed. It felt good. His hands were strong and comforting. They eased her taut muscles between contractions and helped her relax. As long as Jake was here, and she wasn’t alone, she’d get through this.

Zoe floated in a strange kind of limbo. She had no idea how much time went by. Contractions came and went, but she was tired and didn’t try to keep up with the panting routine. Instead, she concentrated on going with the flow as each wave of pain came and went, envisioning the process, knowing that each contraction brought her closer to the birth of her daughter. In between contractions she focused on Jake’s hands tirelessly kneading her aching back. Each time a spasm would begin to peak, he reached across her to remind her to focus on the little Smurf who sat in a pool of candlelight on the floor just inches from her face. Jake held her hand and let her squeeze as hard as she needed. When it was over, he wiped her brow and resumed his massage.

No one could actually sleep at a time like this, but Jake was helping her achieve the next best thing. As she drifted from one peak to another, she thought she heard Jake whisper
I love you
, and her heartbeat quickened with hope. But maybe that had only been a dream, a figment created out of her desire to hear him say it. If it weren’t for the increasing discomfort, she could almost wish this time would go on indefinitely. Just her and Jake, isolated from the craziness outside in a cocoon of warmth and candlelight. His touch was so comforting. So reassuring. So welcome. She wanted him to go on touching her forever.

“What time is it?” she asked in a dreamy haze.

“Just after midnight.” He continued rubbing her lower back.

“What happened to the dogs?”

“I shut them up in the kitchen. They were getting too nosey.”

“Jet especially, right?”

“Right,” he agreed.

“Is the chief going to be upset that you never showed up at the fire station?”

“I called to let them know I was coming back to check on you before I came in. I think they’ve probably guessed I’m still here. I was hoping someone might jump to conclusions and send an EMT out to help, but—but they didn’t.”

Zoe cried out as a sudden sharp pain lanced through her. Fear blossomed instantly.

“It’s okay, babe. It’s just another contraction. Maybe we’re getting closer.” He sounded so calm and reassuring.

Zoe let go of her panic reluctantly, then realized that in talking about the dogs and Jake’s job, she’d lost her focus. She stared at her little Smurf and forced herself to relax, but the intensity of the contraction spiked anyway.

Jake eased her over onto her back again and held her hands, huffing and puffing along with her as the spasm clutched at her. It felt like her body was turning inside out.

The idyll was over.

Again and again pain ripped through Zoe with appalling force as she fought to stay in control.

“Jake! It hurts!”

“I know, babe. I know. Let go of my hands for a minute.”

Zoe let go and clutched at fistfuls of bunched up sheet instead. “Oh, God!”

As the vice-like grip of the contraction tightened, an overwhelming need to push slammed into her. Vaguely she heard Jake’s voice telling her he saw Molly’s head. Vaguely, she noted that he’d shoved her clothing all the way up to her waist and was now hunched on his knees between her feet.

“Push, babe. Push.”

She pushed. The wave crested in a shower of pain and urgency. Then it slowly gave way to intense discomfort.

Zoe lifted her head off the nest of pillows to see the top of Jake’s sun-streaked head bent low between her knees.

“She’s almost here,” he told her, his voice hushed and a little shaky.

Zoe felt the wave coming again. This time she rode with it, bearing down hard. Grunting with the effort. Feeling Molly slip free. Continuing to push even when Jake gasped in surprise and began praying. Then she heard Molly’s first faint squall.

Chapter 35

JAKE KNELT ON the floor between Zoe’s feet, clutching a slippery, bawling infant. No problem with her lungs. Relief washed over him, and his heart burst with love for this tiny scrap of humanity he’d just helped into life. He wanted to cradle her against his chest and protect her forever.

Molly let out another robust cry of protest. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. His eyes filled with tears as he bent his head and pressed his lips to the tiny forehead.

“Welcome to the world, Molly.”

Jake laid Molly across Zoe’s stomach, then reached for Zoe’s hand and guided it to the infant’s back. He scrambled for the pile of receiving blankets he’d brought downstairs. He wrapped Molly in one of the blankets. Then he helped Zoe bring her just-born daughter to her breast.

Zoe, flushed and grinning, gazed at her baby. She touched the tiny cheek with a shaking finger. “Oh, Jake!” Zoe glanced up for a moment, then back to the baby. “She’s beautiful.”

Jake watched, amazed all over again, as Molly rooted instinctively for Zoe’s nipple and found it. “You’re both beautiful.”

He kissed Zoe’s forehead.
Thank you, God. Thank you, God. Thank you, God.
The refrain filled his head and his heart as relief poured through him. He’d been praying so hard for nothing to go wrong. And his prayers had been answered. He wanted to hug them both.

The lights flickered and then died again.

Suddenly, Jake noticed that the wind had weakened. He’d been so intent on the birth, he hadn’t realized that Gertie had moved on. He wiped his hands on his still damp jeans and reached for his cell phone.

He had a signal.
Praise the Lord!
He dialed nine-one-one. When the dispatcher answered, he explained the situation, unable to keep the joy and pride from his voice. The dispatcher congratulated him and called him Dad. His chest squeezed in pain. If only he was Molly’s daddy. He swallowed and went on to explain about the tree and the need for men with chain saws, before breaking the connection.

“I knew you could do it.” Zoe reached for his hand and closed her fingers around his.

“You did all the work, babe.” This time Jake kissed Zoe’s mouth. With Molly cradled between them, Zoe returned his kiss with warmth. When he drew back, her wonderful hazel eyes were awash with unshed tears. “You’re a champ,” he muttered huskily, then backed hastily away.

He found another clean sheet and covered Zoe. He draped a second little blanket over Molly and slumped back against the ottoman. He’d felt less tired after fighting a nasty fire for twice as many hours. But never had he felt so elated with the results of his efforts. The cloud of Karen and her little boy faded in the light of Zoe and Molly and this magical moment of triumph.

In a minute, he’d give her his cell phone and let her call Porter. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, but that shouldn’t matter to a new father eager to hear the news. In another minute, Jake would let her make the call. But he wanted to pretend, for a few moments longer, that it was just him and Zoe and Molly.

Zoe hugged her sleeping newborn as she gazed at Jake’s beloved face. He looked so peaceful and pleased as he slumped tiredly against the ottoman. She’d known nothing truly awful would happen so long as she wasn’t alone. And Jake had been there for her. In spite of everything, he’d been there. Maybe he had said he loved her all those hours ago, while he rubbed her back. Maybe he’d tell her again. As soon as she told him her decision regarding Porter.

Porter!

Zoe gasped in disbelief. She hadn’t given a moment’s thought to Porter since that first aborted attempt to call him. She didn’t want to think about him now, but she’d promised he wouldn’t be the last to know he was a father.

He didn’t have to know right this minute, though. For just a little while longer, it could be just her and Jake and Molly in this little bubble of candlelit solitude, like it had been through the long, hard night. Candlelight flickered across Jake’s face. His gray eyes were dark in the wavering yellow light, his expression soft. A faint smile curved his lips.

“Have I said thank you, yet?” Zoe put a hand on Jake’s knee. He covered it with his own.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” Jake whispered.

Then Zoe heard the unmistakable sound of chain saws in the distance. Jake scrambled to his feet.

Their bubble in time had burst.

Jake hurried to the window and saw a half dozen lights piercing the darkness at the corner of their street. Two of the lights separated themselves and bobbed across the circle toward Zoe’s house. Men at a run. The EMTs were on their way at last.

Chapter 36

HER VERY FIRST visitors were Jake, Ava, and the twins. Zoe heard Lynn and Lori chattering excitedly outside her door, and she had only a moment to button her robe before they dashed into the hospital room. Instantly hushed, the twins stared at Zoe and Molly with solemn gray eyes.

“Hey, Molly!” Jake touched Molly’s contented little face with one big calloused finger. He looked at Zoe with a question in his eyes. She nodded, and he scooped Molly into his arms and nuzzled his face into her blankets. “I’ve brought you a fan club.”

Ava peered over her father’s arm. “Oh, Zoe! She’s beautiful. She’s so tiny!”

“Five pounds, one ounce,” Zoe announced. “Just big enough to stay with me instead of being shut up in the preemie nursery. Just imagine how big she would have been if she’d waited to be born when she was supposed to be.”

“What an adventure you and Dad had.” Ava turned toward Zoe and hugged her hard.

“Your father was a rock. I don’t know how I’d have managed if he hadn’t come back to check on me.”

Ava laughed, then whispered, “What’d he think of your little fireman?”

Zoe had forgotten that Ava knew about the talisman. “He didn’t say.” Jake had snorted in surprise when he’d seen it, but the spurt of hope she’d seen in his eyes had caused her heart rate to soar.

Ava glanced from her father to Zoe, then shrugged with a smug little smile tugging at her mouth. “I’m sure he noticed, even if he didn’t say anything. And, in case you were worried about the menagerie—don’t. Dad’s taking care of the lot. Oh, and this is for you and Molly.” Ava handed Zoe a shiny red bag.

Ava’s smile, Jake’s reaction to the Smurf, and a dozen other little things suddenly began to fill Zoe with a queer sense of anticipation. Then she gave herself a mental shake.
Don’t start imagining things that aren’t there.

Jake had settled into a chair so the twins could get a better look at the baby. Zoe watched the heartwarming tableau for a moment and then returned her attention to the red bag.

She pulled out a tiny shirt with the legend,
I arrived in a hurricane!
on the front and
Molly
scrawled across the back. “Oh, Ava! When did you have time to make this?”

“There’s more.” Ava gestured toward the bag.

Zoe fished out another tissue-wrapped package and opened it to reveal a jersey her own size. This one had a photo of her very pregnant self, taken in profile just a couple weeks ago. Below it, with the same carefree scrawl as Molly’s shirt,
Molly & Me
was written in hot pink.

Zoe held her arms out to hug Ava again. “I love them.”

Ava blushed happily. “I added the part about the hurricane this morning. Dad was so anxious to get over here and check on you, it just barely dried in time to wrap.”

Zoe glanced back at Jake. The twins hung over the arms of the chair on either side of him. He looked up at her and grinned. For a moment, Zoe tried to pretend they were all one family. But it was just an illusion. The closeness of the night before had been banished the moment the EMTs and their cases full of gear had arrived in her living room.

Zoe smiled back at him, wishing things were different. Wishing the intense closeness they’d shared through the night had meant more than just friendship. That she hadn’t imagined those words of endearment.

She reminded herself she was lucky to have such a good friend. And she had Molly.

Then Bree sailed into the room with Sam close behind her bearing a big pink stuffed elephant and a mischievous grin.

ZOE HEARD A knock on her door and pushed herself up straighter in the hospital bed. She smoothed down the standard issue hospital johnny and the flowered robe she’d brought with her, then did her best to finger comb her tangled curls. She looked awful, but there was nothing she could do about the tear stains on her face.

The doctor’s visit and his report about Molly had been heartbreaking.

“Sorry it took me so long to get here,” Porter said as he strode into the room. He wore a dark gray suit with a blue shirt and red power tie. His court attire.

The nurse who’d been making notes on Molly’s chart looked up and gaped. Porter had that effect on women. He’d once had that effect on Zoe. At the moment, however, he felt like an unwelcome intruder.

But Zoe had promised Porter free access in Molly’s life. Today could be no exception. The nurse looked from Porter to Zoe and back.

She’s probably wondering what this Adonis could possibly see in me.

“Would you please bring me my baby?” Zoe asked the still-gaping nurse.

“Of course.” The nurse tore her gaze away from Porter and lifted Molly from the bassinet. She settled Molly into the crook of Zoe’s arm. “Buzz if you need anything.” Then she left, shooting one last glance of appreciation in Porter’s direction.

“So, this is my daughter?” Porter approached the bed and bent slightly to peer into Molly’s sleeping face. “She’s got your red hair. Isn’t she a little small?”

“Would you like to hold her?” Zoe made a motion to lift Molly in Porter’s direction.

“Ah, no. Not . . . I’ve never held a baby before,” Porter admitted, backing up a step and looking a little anxious.

“She won’t break,” Zoe assured him. “Even if she is small.”

“Is everything there?”

Zoe’s chest squeezed tight in distress. “What do you mean, is everything there?”

“She’s got ten toes and all the requisite things?” Porter hovered uncomfortably. Zoe had never seen him so ill at ease, but her own anguish trumped any uneasiness he was feeling.

“She’s got everything except—” Zoe hesitated. It had just been a screening. Maybe there was nothing wrong with Molly, and more tests would prove that, but . . . Porter was her father. He had a right to know. “She failed the hearing test.”

Porter took another hasty step back as if hearing loss might be contagious. “I didn’t know there was any deafness in your family.”

Zoe cuddled Molly closer but wasn’t sure just why. “Maybe she got it from your side?”

“Never!” Porter took another step toward the door.

“You can’t catch it. She was born that way. If it turns out she
is
deaf, that is.” Zoe was beginning to feel angry. This was not the reaction she’d expected. Especially not from Molly’s father.

“There have never been any retards on my family tree.” Porter took yet another step toward the door. “Even a partnership isn’t worth giving my name to a handicapped halfwit.”

Zoe felt the shock of his words clear down to her toes. She gasped for a breath and felt herself hyperventilating. She gazed down at her daughter and got herself under control. “Deafness has nothing to do with intelligence.”

“Yeah? But there’s no way to tell until it’s too late to do anything about it.”

“Do anything about it?” Zoe felt her lungs struggling for air again. What did he think one did about a handicapped child except love it all that much more and work a lot harder to make its life as easy as you could?

“I made a mistake listening to your father. I should never have come here.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

Porter had his hand on the door.

“Wait!”

He hesitated but was clearly in a hurry to make his escape before she could force him to acknowledge his flawed child.

“Could you please hand me the plastic hospital bag in the closet?” Zoe shifted Molly to her other arm and pointed toward the closet. The bag held the clothes she’d been wearing when she arrived at the hospital.

Porter approached the closet, opened the door, and picked up the bag as if it, too, might be contagious. He dropped it on the bed next to Zoe and appeared about to wipe his hands on his trousers until he thought better of it.

Zoe had never seen this side of the man, and it disgusted her. Jake had knelt in the midst of all her mess, ignoring the condition of his own clothing while he held Molly with the reverence of a holy relic. He’d kissed her damp, cheesy little forehead with tears running down his cheeks and whispered words of love and thanksgiving. Porter didn’t even want to touch his daughter all cleaned up and smelling sweet like only new babies can.

“You are a pretentious, self-important ass. I can’t imagine what I ever saw in you.” Zoe dug angrily through the plastic sack one-handed, hunting for the jeweler’s box she’d asked the EMT to grab for her at the last minute when they were wheeling her out of the house.

“There!” She slammed the box into his hand. “If either Molly or I ever see you again, it will be too soon.”

Porter jammed the ring into his trouser pocket and backed toward the door. “You won’t,” he bit out with angry disdain. “Have a nice life.” Then he was gone.

Zoe drew Molly into a tight embrace. She should have felt some remorse for banishing Molly’s father from her baby’s life, but she didn’t. They would be happier without him. Molly was better off never knowing what a jerk her father was.

Even though Molly couldn’t hear her, Zoe rocked both of them back and forth as she hummed “You Are My Sunshine” to her little girl, all the while realizing in the back of her mind, how close she’d come to making a horrible mistake.

When she’d calmed down enough to write without her hand shaking, Zoe settled the sleeping infant between her thigh and the bedrail. Then she reached for the folder the hospital lady had left with the birth certificate form to be filled out.

Molly Ann Callahan
, Zoe began in careful block letters. Under father she wrote,
unknown
.