His Woman, His Child (15 page)

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Authors: Beverly Barton

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General

BOOK: His Woman, His Child
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A few minutes later Dr. Hall found Hank and Caleb walking the halls of the second floor. Hank froze on the spot. For one terrifying moment he thought Susan was dead.

"Susan's in SICU," Dr. Hall said. "I'm sure Dr. Farr has told you that she came through the C-section just fine. We've done all we can for her. We've stopped the internal bleeding and—"

"Is she going to live?" Hank asked.

"I don't know," Dr. Hall replied. "The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours are critical. If she makes it through the night, I'd say she has a good chance of surviving."

"May I see her?"

Dr. Hall nodded. "I'll tell the SICU nurses to let you go in and stay with her for a few minutes."

"Thanks." Hank shook the doctor's hand, then turned to his brother, "Would you explain the situation to Sheila and Donna … and everybody?"

"Sure thing," Caleb replied. "You go on and see Susan. I'll take care of things here."

Hank hesitated at the SICU entrance.
Susan is going to be fine. Susan is going to be fine.
He repeated the sentence as if it were a litany, a holy chant that would protect her from death. He opened the door, walked in and looked around at the numerous enclosed cubicles.

A heavy-set, middle-aged nurse came up to him. "Sheriff Bishop, Mrs. Redman is in Number Four. Follow me."

Hank's stomach knotted painfully as he entered the room. Susan lay quiet and still, her face bruised, cut and swollen, her body attached to an assortment of wires and tubes. She looked very small and completely helpless.

"Dr. Hall said you could stay ten minutes," the nurse said. "Then you can come back at the regular visiting times."

Hank nodded, then moved closer to the bed. He hovered over Susan, willing her to live. He lifted her lifeless little hand and brought it to his lips. After kissing her hand tenderly, he pressed it against his cheek.

"There's something I want you to know," he said. "I love you, Susan. Do you hear me? I love you."

She didn't stir. No movement except the undulation of her chest as she breathed.

"You've got to get well, honey. Our son needs his mother. He's upstairs right now, getting the best care in the world. Dr. Farr said he's just fine. He's small, but he's going to make it." Just a little white lie, Hank told himself. Just a half-truth.

Hank stayed at her side, talking to her, encouraging her, repeatedly telling her how much he loved her.

The nurse standing in the doorway cleared her throat. "You'll have to leave now, Sheriff. But you can come back in a couple of hours at the next regular visiting time."

Hank leaned over, kissed Susan's forehead and then left the room. His family waited for him just outside the SICU entrance, in the tiny visitors' area.

"How was she?" Sheila asked.

"Asleep," Hank replied. "I can go back in and see her in two hours."

"How about some lunch?" Caleb suggested. "We can all go grab a bite in the cafeteria."

"I want to see my son," Hank said.

Tears misted Sheila's and Tallie's eyes. The two women slipped their arms through Hank's, flanking him.

"Let's all go up and see my nephew," Tallie said. "They might not let us all in, but we can peep through the door."

The staff suited Hank in green hospital garb that included a face mask, then allowed him into the neonatal unit. His son lay in an incubator, his tiny body connected to countless tubes and wires, just as his mother's body was similarly connected to life-saving equipment on the floor below.

His son had perfect little arms and legs. Ten fingers and ten toes. A round head covered with dark fuzz.

A feeling like none he'd ever known overwhelmed Hank. That tiny little thing lying there, fighting for life, was his son. His and Susan's child. Conceived as the ultimate repayment to a friend. A child he had never planned to be a father to in any way.

"You keep on fighting, son. Do you hear me? I'm your father. And don't think for one minute that I don't want you or love you, because I do. God, I do. I do." Tears streamed down Hank's face. His shoulders shook with his attempt at controlling the sobs.

"You've got to live for your mother and me. She's downstairs right now, fighting just as hard as you are. And when she wakes up, the first thing she's going to ask me is how you're doing. I want to be able to tell her that you're all right."

With these words, Hank left the neonatal unit, ran past his family and into the nearest men's room. He leaned his head against the wall in the empty room for a couple of minutes, struggling to bring his emotions under control.

When Caleb and Peyton entered the rest room, Hank was washing his face with a wet paper towel. He blew his nose, tossed the towel into the trash and took a deep breath.

"Anything we can do?" Peyton asked.

"I'm okay," Hank said. "I just needed a few minutes to, er, to—"

"How about some lunch now?" Caleb said. "You still have about an hour before you can go back in to see Susan again."

"Yeah, sure," Hank said. "I could use some coffee."

When Hank returned to the SICU, he found Susan still asleep. He asked the nurses why she hadn't awakened and they told him, reluctantly, that Susan was in a coma.

He stayed at the hospital all day and all night. Waiting, praying, and hoping beyond hope that Susan would awaken. He made several trips upstairs to check on his son. The boy was a fighter, they told him. His son was hanging on.

People came and went. Everyone was concerned. All their friends were supportive and caring. He spoke to the doctors numerous times. Each time he was told all that could be done was being done—for Susan and their child. Dr. Hall was cautiously optimistic about Susan's recovery, but he was concerned that she still remained in a coma. And only time could save their son. Each day he survived, he would—hopefully—grow stronger.

Caleb brought Hank a change of clothes the second day. Three day's beard stubble covered Hank's face. And after sleeping on the sofa in the waiting room every night, Hank's body felt as if it had been beaten.

Seventy hours after Susan had been placed in SICU, the nurse came out into the waiting area and woke Hank from a nap. She shook his shoulder. "Sheriff Bishop?"

His eyelids flew open. He stared up at the nurse. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she assured him. "Dr. Hall is with Mrs. Redman. She's regained consciousness."

Hank raced into the SICU, straight to Number Four.

"There he is," Dr. Hall said to Susan, then turned to Hank. "She's been asking for you."

Hank went to her, the happiness inside him near the bursting point. She lifted her hand. He grabbed it, kissed it and held it tenderly.

"Our baby?" she asked.

Hank glanced back at Dr. Hall, who nodded affirmatively. "He's upstairs in the neonatal unit. He's little. Just barely three pounds. But he's fully developed—his lungs and all. He's on a respirator, but they think they'll be able to take him off of it in another day or two. He's got ten toes and fingers, with toenails and fingernails. And a lot of dark fuzz on his head."

"I want to see him," Susan said.

"Susan, you're not quite ready to get out of bed yet, let alone make a trip upstairs," Dr. Hall told her. "You'll have to let Hank keep you updated for a few more days."

"But I'm all right, aren't I? I want to see my baby." Tears clouded Susan's eyes.

Hank brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles repeatedly. "Just as soon as you're able to, I'll take you upstairs to see him. I promise."

"The best thing you can do for your son is to get well yourself," Dr. Hall said. "Hank can stay with you for as long as you'd like. And we just might move you out into a private room in the morning."

Hank pulled up a chair and sat beside Susan's bed. She turned and took a good look at him.

"You look terrible," she said. "How long has it been since you got some sleep?"

"I've taken a few naps over the past three days."

"Have I been here three days?"

"Three and a half."

"Oh, Hank, you should have gone home and gotten some sleep." She ran her fingertips over his beard stubble. "And you should have shaved."

"What's the matter, don't you like my beard?"

"Why didn't you go home?"

"How can you ask me that?" He leaned over and kissed her. "I couldn't leave you and our son here at the hospital. If I'd been the one lying here unconscious, would you have left me?"

"No, but I love—"

"And I love you, Susan." He cupped her face gently with his hands. "I love you."

"You love me?"

"Yes, I do. And I want you to marry me. You know what I was fixing to do when I got word that you'd been in an accident?"

"No, what were you fixing to do?"

"Make reservations for dinner, order you some flowers, and buy you an engagement ring."

"Oh, Hank. I thought when you said … all you talked about was duty and responsibility and doing the right thing. You never mentioned that you loved me."

"Yeah, well, I'm an idiot. I didn't handle things the right way and I realize that I went about proposing to you all wrong. I'm not much of a bargain, honey. I'm not as good a man as Lowell. He was kind and gentle and easygoing and would have been—"

Susan covered his lips with her fingers. "Shh-hh. I loved Lowell. I know what a wonderful man he was. And I think we should name our son after him. But you're the man I've been in love with since I was a teenager. You're the man I've always wanted."

"I think naming our son after Lowell is a good idea. Lowell would have liked that, wouldn't he?"

"He would have understood our being in love, too," Susan said. "He would have wanted us to be together. You and me and little Lowell Redman Bishop."

"He's going to make it," Hank said. "We're not going to lose our son."

The next day Susan was moved into a private room, and two days later Hank pushed her wheelchair into the neonatal unit to see her son for the first time.

"Come take a look at him," the nurse said. "We took him off the ventilator four hours ago and he's breathing just fine on his own. He's gaining weight already and we're betting you'll get to take little Lowell home in a few weeks."

Indescribable joy welled up inside Susan. Joy beyond any she'd ever experienced before in her life. She looked at her son, Hank's son, and her heart filled with gratitude.

"Hello, Lowell, I'm your mother. You and I have a little catching up to do."

They stayed with their son for over an hour, until Susan began to tire. Hank promised they'd return again, later that afternoon.

"I love you, darling," Susan told her son. "Mommy's here for you. For the rest of your life."

"I love you, son," Hank said. "And I'm going to be around for you, too. We're going to go hunting and fishing and play baseball together. And you're going to help me take care of your mother and make sure she's happy."

Hank leaned over, kissed Susan and then wheeled her out into the hallway. When they returned to her room, they found it filled with people—friends and relatives packed the room and lined the hallway.

"Since you missed your baby shower, we decided to bring it to you," Sheila said. "I checked with Dr. Hall and he said he thought you might be up to a little party, as long as we didn't stay too long."

One by one, Susan's friends brought their gifts to her and she opened each with love. After the last present had been stacked in a large box Sheila had provided, Susan reached out for Hank's hand.

"We have an announcement to make," she said as Hank took her hand in his.

"Hank and I are going to get married as soon as little Lowell is able to leave the hospital."

Congratulations began, but before the well-wishers went any further, Susan cleared her throat. Everyone stopped talking all at once.

"I think there's something y'all should know. Hank's family already knows, but … well, I want all our friends to know the truth." Susan took a deep breath.
Oh, Lowell, this is the right thing to do. I know you understand.
"Lowell was sterile, but he wanted to give me a child. So he asked his best friend to donate sperm so that I could be artificially inseminated. If Lowell had lived, the baby would have been ours—always. But the truth is that Hank is my son's biological father."

Hank knew how much courage it had taken her to face her friends and tell them the truth. He didn't think he could ever love her more than he did at that very minute. He knew he probably didn't deserve Susan, but that fact sure wasn't going to keep him from marrying her and spending the rest of his life trying to be worthy of her.

Epilogue

Lowell Redman Bishop's parents brought him home from the hospital when he was five weeks and four days old. He weighed a whopping five pounds, one ounce—the combined result, the doctors said, of his huge appetite and the constant love and care of his mother and father. Everyone agreed that little Lowell was Hank's spitting image—black hair and brown eyes and a very stubborn chin.

Today Susan had dressed him in a white one-piece outfit and a matching bonnet, which was almost too large for his tiny head. She wrapped him in a white blanket that Mrs. Dobson had hand crocheted and handed over her pride and joy to his "Aunt" Donna for the duration of the wedding ceremony.

Hank and Susan had agreed that they wanted their union to be shared by only their family and closest friends. Donna had helped Susan plan the event and she had organized everything, despite the fact that her baby was due at any time. Sheila and Tallie had done most of the physical work required to turn the front parlor of Susan's home into the setting for her wedding. Cream roses, baby's breath and white lilies filled the house. Satin bows decorated chairs, tables and mantel. Crystal candleholders filled with white and cream candles of every size created a warm glow.

Susan took a deep breath when she heard the music begin. This was the moment she had been waiting for all her life. The day she would marry the man she loved—Hank Bishop.

Her whole life had changed in recent months and would change even more when she and little Lowell moved to Virginia with Hank, after his term as sheriff ended. She wasn't sure how she'd like living so far away from her home and her friends, but she knew she'd make any sacrifice for Hank. He had a career with the FBI and she would never ask him to permanently give up a job he loved. After all, what really mattered was that they would be together—she and her husband and son. And of course, they were taking Lucy, Ethel, Fred and Ricky with them when they moved. Hank complained about the
mutts
and
felines,
but she knew they were beginning to win him over.

Susan took one last look at the mirror in the upstairs hallway. The bruises were gone and the makeup covered the faint lines left from the healing scars on the side of her face. Donna had swept her hair up into a French twist, making her look far more sophisticated than she was. She had decided against a typical wedding dress. After all, this was her second marriage. Instead, she had chosen a cream silk dress. Draped across the shoulders. Fitted at the waist. Flowing from her hips to mid-calf. Simple and elegant. Her only ornamentation, besides the emerald-cut diamond engagement ring Hank had given her, was her aunt Alice's pearl necklace.

Governor Peyton Rand offered her his arm. She smiled at Tallie's husband and laced her arm through his. Tallie and Sheila, costumed in springtime dresses of pale yellow chiffon, preceded her down the stairs and into the front parlor. Peyton led her to where Hank waited with Reverend Swan. Hank stood in front of the fireplace, which was decorated with garlands of roses and lilies. He wore a new black suit and a gray and maroon striped tie. Without a doubt, he was the handsomest man alive.

With his brother Caleb at his side, Hank turned to her, the smile on his face telling her how happy he was. As Sheila and Tallie took their places at her side, Donna came and joined them, holding baby Lowell in her arms.

"Dearly Beloved," Reverend Swan began the ceremony.

The day was perfect, Susan thought as she and Hank exchanged their vows. A dream come true because two people had overcome their fears and self-doubts and taken a chance on love.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," the minister proclaimed. "Hank, you may kiss your bride."

The kiss was deeply intimate and sealed their passionate love. Caleb cleared his throat. Tallie laughed. When Hank finally released her, they turned to face their friends.

Donna had arranged for a caterer to prepare the reception and everything was set up to perfection in the dining room. Standing side by side, Susan and Hank cut their wedding cake, while a local photographer took their picture.

Suddenly, Tallie cried from the hallway, then burst into laughter. "My God, Jake! I can't believe you actually came. You're too late for the wedding, but the reception's just starting."

"You don't mean our big brother actually came home for your wedding," Caleb said to Hank. "Will wonders never cease. He didn't bother making the trip for Tallie's wedding or mine."

"I'll be damned," Hank said. "It is Jake!"

"Well, this does make the day perfect, doesn't it?" Susan said. "All three Bishop brothers together for the first time in … how long?"

"Seventeen years," Hank said, slipping his arm around Susan's waist and leading her over to meet the new arrival.

"You old son of a gun," Jake Bishop said, slapping Hank on the back. "You said you'd never get married or have any kids, but from what Caleb tells me, you've done both. This gal must be something special to trap my little brother."

"Honey, I'd like for you to meet the black sheep of the family, my big brother, Jake."

Susan reached out and hugged Jake. He grinned from ear to ear, then kissed the bride on the cheek. "You're a lucky man," Jake said. "How about introducing me to my nephews? I've got another one now, don't I? At least that's what Caleb told me when I called him yesterday."

Susan turned to ask Donna to bring Lowell over to meet his uncle, but Donna had disappeared into another room. Danny, Caleb's son, held his little cousin. Susan motioned to him.

Jake lifted the child out of Danny's arms and held him up for inspection. "Well, he's a Bishop, all right." He ruffled Danny's hair. "And so are you, son." Jake laughed heartily. "A second generation of Bishops. Lord help us all."

"Amen to that. Now, give me that baby before you drop him!" Tallie scooped up little Lowell. "Come on everybody, we've got a reception going on here. Music. Food. Champagne."

Hank pulled Susan off into the hallway, into a quiet, private corner, then backed her up against the wall. "I love you, Mrs. Bishop."

"And I love you, Mr. Bishop." She caressed his cheek.

"I'm sorry we have to postpone our honeymoon, but until Lowell's a little bigger and I've completely recovered—"

Hank covered her mouth with his, robbing her of her breath and of all coherent thought. Every time he touched her, rockets went off inside her. Hank always made her feel this way. Only Hank.

"Dr. Hall and Dr. Farr did say that we could have a wedding night, didn't they?" Hank cupped her hips and pulled her up against him.

She draped her arms around his neck. "Oh, yes, they most certainly did."

"Then come on, honey, let's get this reception over with so we can get started on the fun part of being married."

"Let's go," she agreed.

And then Mr. and Mrs. Hank Bishop joined their family and friends, and began their life as a happily married couple.

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