Last Bridge Home (10 page)

“Not yet. I was aching a little when I woke up, but it’s gone now.” She helped him pull the gown over her head. “This is getting to be a habit. I always thought I was a modest person, but I seem to be taking this very calmly.”

“There isn’t time for modesty and why should you feel uncomfortable? There’s only
Gunner and me, and we care more about you than any doctor possibly could.” He kissed her cheek as he pulled the sheet up about her shoulders. “Gunner is your good friend and I’m the man who is going to love and watch over you for the rest of your life.”

“It’s not fair for you to sneak that in,” she protested. “I don’t want to have to worry about anything but Andrew right now. You’re catching me at a very vulnerable moment.”

“I know.” His dark eyes were twinkling. “I figured I should get something out of this. I’m about to go through a traumatic experience.”

“You are! I’m the one who—” She began to chuckle helplessly. “Just go get that damn manual. I hope to heaven the copyright isn’t in the seventeenth century.”

“I think you’re safe there. I don’t believe the copyright office was founded until—” He broke off as she gasped and suddenly bent over in pain. The lightness vanished from his face. “The pain is back?”

It was a moment before the spasm subsided and she was able to answer. “Oh, yes, it’s back. I believe Master Andrew’s entrance into the world is going to prove difficult.”

His hand smoothed the hair away from her face. “We’ll just have to do something about that. These young whippersnappers have to learn to respect their mothers.” He stood up,
his gaze on her face. “I’ll be right back. I won’t let you suffer.”

“I understand a certain amount of discomfort goes with the territory.”

“It shouldn’t.” His voice was rough. “It’s stupid for you to have to suffer like this. I won’t tolerate it.”

She felt a surge of maternal tenderness that had nothing to do with Andrew. “Okay, wave your magic wand and banish it into the great beyond. I’ll be glad to cooperate.” Pain twisted inside her and she cried out before she could stifle it. She felt a bead of perspiration run down the side of her face. “Very glad,” she muttered, closing her eyes.

She heard him utter a low curse that was quite satisfyingly obscene. She could have muttered a few curses herself at that moment. She heard the door open and her eyelids flew open. “I just thought of something. Couldn’t you use the shortwave radio and get a doctor to talk you through the birth? I saw something on television once—” She stopped. He was shaking his head. “Why not?”

His gaze shifted from her face to the window. “I was trying to get a weather report earlier this evening and the radio was dead as a doornail. It could be the unit or the weather.” He shrugged. “Who knows? At any rate, the bottom line is that you’ll have to trust me.” His
gaze returned to her. “You won’t be sorry, Beth.”

She suddenly knew he was right. She could place her trust in him without reservation. He would never betray that trust. “I imagine we’ll muddle through together.” Her lips were trembling as she smiled at him. “I do trust you, Jon.”

He opened his lips to say something and then closed them without speaking. “Ill try to find you a sedative to help the pain. I think I have something that will do the trick.”

By the time he and Gunner returned ten minutes later, her pains were coming much closer together and racking her body with spasms. She tried to remember what she had read about natural childbirth. Breathing. That was it; she was supposed to breath rhythmically. She should have gone to the childbirth classes at the clinic in Albany, but there had been that data processing prerequisite she needed, and it was given only on Mondays and …

“Beth, open your eyes. You have to drink this. It will make you feel better.” Jon was kneeling beside her, a glass of milk in his hand. His dark eyes were gazing intently into her own. Gentleness, warmth, love. They were all there and something more. Safety and surcease from all pain and fear.

“It’s not too strong, is it? I think I’m sup posed to push.”

“You’ll be perfectly clearheaded.” He was holding her head carefully, the rim of the glass pressing her lips. “I’ve just added a sedative I brought back with me from abroad.” His gaze was holding her own. “It’s very safe and said to be a miracle drug. You’ll have no pain at all from now on. You’ll be absolutely relaxed and the baby will come easily, joyously. Do you believe me?”

Of course she believed him. It was clear everything he said was true. It would be wonderful to be free of pain. She nodded and quickly swallowed the milk. It was warm and soothing and thoroughly disgusting. “I hate hot milk.”

Jon chuckled. “But the pain is gone.”

It
was
gone and she wasn’t even surprised. “You bet it is.” She grinned up at him. “Shall we get this show on the road? Andrew is get ting impatient.”

She heard Gunner’s delighted laughter and laughed back at him over Jon’s shoulder. She was jubilantly, vibrantly alive and so happy. So very happy.

Jon smiled at both of them. “I guess we’ll start at chapter one of the manual: ‘Cleansing the Patient Thoroughly.’”

Andrew Ramsey was born at 3:42
A.M.
during
the worst blizzard to hit the state of New York in fifty years. Her son had his father’s golden hair and her brown eyes, and when Jon put him in her arms she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt the meaning of happiness. Happiness was Andrew.

“He smells so sweet. What did you powder him with?” Her lips brushed the top of the baby’s head. His skin was soft as slipper satin against her lips. She had always thought the comparison trite, but nothing came closer to the glowing freshness.

“Your talcum.” Gunner smiled down at her with weary satisfaction. “The rest is strictly improvised, diapers from pillowcases, swaddling blanket from sheets. I haven’t decided what to do about a cradle yet. I’ll set up a nursery in the guest room next door so I can watch over him and let you get the rest you need.”

“Perhaps we can pick up a cradle when we take him to the hospital for a checkup.” She was still looking down at Andrew and didn’t see the glance the two men exchanged. “And we’ll definitely need some disposable diapers.”

“I’ll put them first on the list,” Gunner said lightly.

“Not quite,” Jon said. “Bottles and formula should take precedence, I think. Why don’t you see what you can rustle up from the cellar
in the way of an adequate-size bottle and rubber to fashion a nipple?”

“Why should he do that?” Elizabeth drew the baby closer. “I’m going to breast-feed him. I’ve never intended doing anything else. Most of the books I’ve read say it’s better psycho logically for a child to be breast-fed in infancy.”

Something flickered in Jon’s eyes. “I hear sometimes it can be … inconvenient.”

“Nonsense, I’m going to breast-feed him,” she said firmly.

“So it appears.” Jon’s expression was totally shuttered as he gazed down at her. Then he smiled. “I guess you’re not going to need us for that little operation.”

“I can handle it myself.” Elizabeth felt as if she could handle the sun, the moon, and the entire NASA space program at the moment. “You go see what you can do about Andrew’s cradle.”

Jon shot an amused sideways glance at Gunner. “Dismissed?”

Gunner nodded mournfully. “Cast aside the moment a new man appears on the scene. How fickle can you get?”

Elizabeth lifted her eyes from the “new man” and slowly shook her head. A smile so loving it was blindingly radiant touched her lips. “Oh, no. Don’t think you two will ever get
away from me. After what we’ve gone through together you’re both
mine
now. My family.” Her gaze returned to her son as he lay in the bend of her arm. “Andrew’s family. You’re officially adopted.”

“Then I guess we’d better see about that cradle.” Jon’s voice was husky. “Gome on, Gunner. You’re the expert on improvisation.”

Elizabeth didn’t look up when they left the room.

The two men were silent as they walked slowly down the stairs. It wasn’t until they reached the foyer that Gunner said softly, “I feel as if I’ve just been knighted. It was kind of … wonderful.”

Jon nodded. “Though I didn’t expect her to want to breast-feed Andrew. I suppose I should have realized she’d react that way. It’s going to cause problems.”

Gunner smiled. “Do you care?”

Not if it makes her happy. Not if it makes her smile as she had just before they left the room. “No, it doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with it later.”

That problem would undoubtedly be minor in comparison to the others looming on the horizon. His instincts weren’t as finely tuned as Gunner’s, but he had a hunch their peaceful hiatus was almost at an end.

“D
ID YOU HAVE A NICE WALK?”
G
UNNER PLACED
the baby carefully in Elizabeth’s arms, then smiled as he looked up and saw her wind-flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. “Yes, I can see you did.”

“It was fine. Was Andrew all right?”

“A perfect gentleman. I know this will be a terrible blow to your maternal ego, but we got along splendidly without you for the past hour. Andrew and I understand each other.”

“That’s because you both have the mind of a child,” Jon drawled. “Direct, easily amused, and stubborn as hell.”

“Ouch.” Gunner made a face. “I won’t stand here and be maligned. I’m going back to the
library and finish the book
I
started reading to Andrew.”

“What were you reading?
The Little Engine That Could?”
Elizabeth asked with a grin. “I hate to disillusion you, but I don’t think he’s ready for such weighty literature yet. After all, he’s only three weeks old.”

Gunner shook his head. “Certainly not. I wouldn’t think of insulting him with that pap. We’re perusing Einstein’s Theory of Relativity at the moment.” He turned away and started down the hall. “Tomorrow we may start studying philosophy. Socrates might intrigue …” His words trailed off as he disappeared into the library.

Elizabeth stared after him in bemusement. “Do you suppose he’s really reading Einstein’s theories to Andrew?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Jon said with a smile. “Gunner is capable of anything.”

“But he’s wonderful with Andrew.” She glanced down at her son, and her smile was replaced by a frown of distress. “He’s not eating properly. I
know
Andrew should be eating more than he does. The first two weeks after his birth he was absolutely ravenous, but this last week he’s skipped his night feeding entirely and doesn’t seem to be interested in the afternoon feeding either. I think he’s sick.”

“He couldn’t be ill. He’s growing by leaps
and bounds,” Jon said with comforting certainty. “There’s no way you can say he’s wasting away.”

“No.” Andrew was enchantingly plump and appeared to be growing in strength with every passing day. That was why his sudden aversion to nourishment was so puzzling… and frightening. “What if he stops eating entirely? What if—” She stopped. “We must get him to a doc tor.”

“You know we can’t do that. The roads are still closed due to the last storm.” Jon’s voice was soothing. “And I’m sure there’s nothing seriously wrong with the child. Have you thought about the possibility of an allergy? I’ve heard of rare cases in which a baby is allergic to his mother’s milk. You might consider trying one of the formulas listed in the midwife manual.”

“I guess I’ll have to,” she said dejectedly. “At this rate, I won’t have any milk to give him anyway. We’ve got to get out of here. It’s not safe for Andrew, for us, to be cut off without any way to communicate with the outside world. Is Gunner still working on the radio?”

“He thinks it needs a part.”

“And he can’t get a part until the roads are clear. It’s a vicious circle.”

“Vicious is a hard word,” Jon said gently. “And I was under the impression you’ve been quite content these last few weeks.”

She had been marvelously content. Her recovery from childbirth was unusually speedy and she had been up and around within three days. Andrew was a wondrous spring of delight and she had been so absorbed in her son that all her aches and pains had faded into the background. Jon had almost had to pry her forcibly away from Andrew so she could rest every afternoon.

Jon. She felt a warm glow spread through her as she looked at him. No one could have been kinder, or gender, or more understanding. She was conscious that he had subdued any hint of his desire for her. He seemed to sense she needed this time to become acquainted with her son and accustom herself to her new role. He had told her he wasn’t a patient man, but he had been more than patient with her.

“I’ve been very happy,” she said softly. “An drew’s wonderful and you and Gunner have been so kind. It’s been like being enclosed in a sparkling bubble that lets in all the beautiful colors but filters out everything worrisome and ugly. I’ve been floating up and up, higher every day.”

“I’d like to keep you in that bubble.” There was a sadness in Jon’s eyes that puzzled her. “Unfortunately, the chance of that occurring doesn’t look very promising.”

Bardot. The thought of the government man rudely intruded into her beautiful bubble of security. She hadn’t thought of him since An drew arrived. She had shut him out with the other disturbing influences she knew she eventually would have to face. But she couldn’t be bothered about Bardot yet, not when she had the problem of Andrew’s lack of appetite to worry about. “Why did you have to pick a place in the middle of nowhere? Andrew—”