Maybe This Time (19 page)

“No wonder I have no idea what day it is.” And that meant she’d lost another precious day when she should have been working on her term paper.

“I called Alana and uh...told her...where you were.” Darcy was looking at her chest. “Do you want a cloth?”

Emma glanced down. Oh, dear. Even with her low milk production, two days without nursing had left her breasts full. Now they’d let down and the leaked milk rendered her white camisole transparent, revealing her swollen nipples. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment.

She glanced at Darcy and was surprised to catch his gaze flare with heat. Her nipples tingled, releasing more milk. The transparency spread, exposing the whole of her breasts. Darcy didn’t move a muscle but his pupils widened, making his eyes even blacker. She was anchored by the baby, unable to deal with the sexual undercurrent and too weak to even tug the sheet up to her armpits. “A cloth is probably a good idea.”

Darcy strode out of the room. A minute later he pressed a clean white terry cloth in her hand. “It’s a bar towel but you know, kind of appropriate.”

For mopping up spilled drinks. Smiling, she tucked the towel over her wet camisole. “Thanks. Go, tend your bar.”

“When Kirsty gets in I’ll bring you something to eat. You should drink some water in the meantime.” He nodded at the glass on the bedside table he must have put there earlier.

“You don’t have to wait on me.” He cocked an eyebrow and she lowered her gaze. It was patently obvious that she couldn’t help herself.

He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead, his fingers as cool as water. “You’re still hot, and I can hear your chest rasping every time you breathe. Sienna Maxwell’s coming over on her lunch break. She came the first day and prescribed antibiotics. She wants to see how you’re doing now.”

Emma began to protest that she didn’t need a doctor but Darcy shook his head. She knew she had a tendency to ignore minor illnesses on the assumption she was fundamentally healthy and would get better on her own. Clearly that strategy hadn’t worked this time. And Billy should be checked, even though he appeared better than two days ago.

“Okay.” She eyed Darcy curiously. “Did you look after Billy all by yourself for two whole days?”

“My sister helped. In fact, she did most of the caring. She had a couple days off so she slept on a cot in the baby’s room while I took the couch. She just left a few minutes ago, had to go to work.”

“I see.” He left the room and Emma lay back on the pillow. It was foolish to feel disappointed. Darcy had never claimed to be good with babies. Playing with them, yes, but he avoided the hands-on work. For a few minutes she’d begun to hope he’d started to bond with Billy. God knows, her poor child needed someone. She knew that on some level she loved Billy. Where was the warm, fuzzy feeling she was supposed to feel when she held her baby?

A tiny frown creased Billy’s brow as he concentrated on sucking. He seemed to glare at her above the bottle as if to say,
You’re a nurse. You should have known better than to get so sick and not ask for help.

She was still bone-tired and weak as a kitten. Emma reached for the water and drank thirstily. Next to the glass was her phone. She checked for messages. There were a dozen or so awaiting her attention. In a little while she would call Alana, but at the moment she didn’t feel up to talking to anyone, not even her sister.

She could still feel Darcy’s touch on her forehead. Had she imagined his fingers lingering in a brief caress? Darcy might be helping her and Billy, but only because he was a good, kind, generous man who couldn’t bear to see anyone suffering. It didn’t mean he would fall in love with her again. Or with their son. She knew how good Darcy was at guarding his heart.

She adjusted Billy more comfortably in her arms and pushed the blanket back from his face so it didn’t get in his way. Then she closed her eyes. A few moments’ rest...

She must have slept because the next thing she knew, Darcy knocked on the bedroom door then eased it open. “Emma, Sienna’s here.”

“Come in.” Billy was sleeping still, snuggled into her arm. She and he must look the picture of a perfect mother and baby. Only she knew how false that was.

Dr. Sienna Maxwell entered and placed her black bag on a chair. She removed her navy suit jacket, revealing a crisp white blouse tucked into a navy skirt. Her mass of red curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Darcy said.

“Can you wait until I’ve examined Billy and then you can take him with you?” Sienna said.

“Sure.” Darcy sat on a chair in the corner, his hands linked between his knees.

Sienna opened her black bag and got out her stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. She perched on the edge of the bed. “Hey, Emma. Let’s have a look at this little man and see what he’s fussing about. Then we’ll check you out. You’re looking better than you did the other day.”

Emma relinquished her hold on Billy. “He always fusses. Mostly at night when he’s colicky. But with this cold he’s even worse.”

Sienna undid a few snaps on his sleeper, inserted a thermometer beneath his armpit and held his arm in place while she listened to his chest. Billy woke up and immediately began to fuss. Sienna checked the temperature then turned him over and listened to his back. She shone a penlight into his eyes, passed her fingers gently over his fontanel and peered down his throat.

Sienna hung her stethoscope around her neck. “He’s congested and a bit dehydrated, but his temperature is down. It is just a cold and not a secondary infection.”

“That’s good.”

“Keep up his fluids, supplementing breast milk or formula with cooled boiled water with a solution to replenish his electrolytes.” She wiped the baby thermometer and put it away in its case. Then she strapped the blood pressure cuff onto Emma’s arm. “Darcy said you were having trouble nursing him. How’s your milk supply?”

“Not great. And now with this cold I’m afraid it’s drying up.”

“Cold?” Sienna shook her head. “You have pneumonia. Get some rest, give the antibiotics another day or two to kick in fully and your milk will likely come back. Sometimes these things resolve themselves with time. Is there anything else you wanted to ask about with regard to Billy?”

Emma hesitated. She hadn’t told anyone she hadn’t bonded with Billy. She especially didn’t want to say anything in front of Darcy. Being a mum was such a big part of who she was that not to be able to bond with her son was...well, it simply wasn’t her.

Sienna noticed her hesitation. She took Billy from Emma’s arms and held him up to Darcy. “I think your son needs a change, Daddy.”

When Darcy had left the room, Sienna asked gently, “Now, what’s troubling you?”

“I don’t feel anything for my baby. I don’t love him.” Emma’s words gushed out, along with a few tears. “We haven’t bonded. I don’t know what to do. I think if I could nurse him it would help but since I have to supplement my breast milk with a bottle...” Her voice wobbled. “I feel like such a failure.”

Sienna laid a hand on her arm. “You must know that sometimes mothers don’t bond with their infant right away. It’s not your fault.”

“I know.” But she didn’t know. There was no certainty in her at all. She was terrified. As a doting mother she hadn’t been able to keep Holly safe. If she didn’t love Billy the way she was supposed to, what chance did he have? “What if I never love my child?”

Sienna unstrapped the cuff and smiled gently. “That’s not even remotely possible. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I don’t feel anything for him.” Tears welled and she blinked them back. “Nothing.”

“You’re sick and run-down. Darcy told me you’ve been working as well as studying. And also raising Billy on your own. That’s a lot of pressure right there, let alone trying to bond with a difficult baby.”

Emma was silent. Everything Sienna said made sense, but she was sure there was more to it than that.

“Did you want this baby?” Sienna asked.

“I did. I
do,
” Emma insisted. “But now that he’s here... Maybe I blame him for my marriage falling apart. Not
him
because my marriage failed long before he was conceived. But my wanting him. But then it’s not his fault. It’s mine. Oh, it’s all so confusing.”

Sienna put a hand on hers and gave it a comforting squeeze. “My son Oliver is fifteen now and I love him more than life. But when he first came along, I resented him. He wasn’t planned and I made the mistake of marrying his father because I thought it was the right thing to do. It took years for me and my ex-husband to realize our mistake.” She smiled cheerfully. “Luckily it took a lot less time for me to bond with Oliver.”

“How long?” Sienna asked, sniffing.

“I can’t really remember. I was in med school at the time. A few months at least.”

“I wanted Billy. I knew I was raising him on my own.”

“You don’t need to make sense of your feelings right now. Your first task is to get well. Your body is telling you to slow down. I recommend you take some time off. Rest and recover. Once you’re feeling better your milk will come in. And if it doesn’t, that’s not the end of the world. Babies survive on formula.”

“And the bonding?” Emma sniffed.

“With time, you will more than likely feel love for your baby. And if you don’t, a qualified counselor can help. The important thing is not to give up.”

“Oh, I won’t ever give up.” How could she when Billy depended on her? “Thanks, Sienna.”

She felt better having spoken her fears aloud. Sienna’s calm, practical manner put her problems in perspective and made them manageable. Get better. Then sort out her emotions. She and Billy were going to be okay. She had to believe that. She
did
believe it.

* * *

D
ARCY CARRIED
B
ILLY
into the second bedroom where he’d set up the cot and changing table. He placed Billy on the table but the baby wriggled, and he didn’t feel comfortable with him up so high. So he moved the changing pad to the floor and knelt beside him.

He’d felt like a fraud when Sienna called him
Daddy.
That was going to change from now on—whether Emma liked it or not. It was clear to him that he needed to be around for backup in case something happened to her. She was right, money wasn’t enough. Whether
he
liked it or not, he
had
to be hands-on.

Speaking of hands-on, how the hell was a guy supposed to change a diaper when the kid was wriggling and squirming? “Hold still, mate.”

Why was his baby’s name so hard for him to say? He’d seen a documentary years ago about India. In some parts of the country infant mortality was so high people didn’t name their babies until they were six months old in case the child didn’t survive. Was that what he was doing by not calling Billy by his name—subconsciously preparing himself for the worst?

Darcy didn’t want to be morbid—it wasn’t his nature. But Holly’s death had shaken his belief that nothing truly terrible would ever happen to him, or anyone he loved. The belief wasn’t logical, but it was how most people lived, by trusting they would survive.

Billy gazed at him, vulnerable and yet so trusting. He couldn’t protect himself, and his mother was temporarily out of action. He was relying on Darcy. It was a huge responsibility, one Darcy had never really taken up with Holly. Suddenly he realized how important parents were to their children. How important Emma had been for Holly, doing everything for her, making sure she survived and thrived.

“Billy. Hi, there. It’s me...” He swallowed. “Daddy.”

Miraculously, the baby stopped squirming, looked at him and smiled. Darcy stilled, and for a moment he simply held his son’s gaze. Then Billy kicked his legs. Darcy cleared his throat. “Don’t get too used to this, buddy. Me taking care of you is only temporary. Now hold still. I’m going to change your diaper.”

Step one, remove the sleeper. He undid the snaps and pulled the baby’s legs out, then his arms and set the clothing aside. Step two, remove the diaper. Darcy held his breath and peeled back the tabs. Okay, this was a full load. “Bear with me, Billy. I know I changed you once, but that doesn’t make me an expert.”

He hadn’t realized until Billy had come to live with him, and Emma wasn’t taking care of him, exactly how absent he’d been for Holly. After she’d rolled off the change table he’d been extra nervous around her. Emma had never again asked him to do a thing for Holly. Even though Holly hadn’t been injured, Emma had quietly and competently done it all herself.

She hadn’t trusted him. The conclusion was inescapable. He hadn’t realized until now how angry and useless that had made him feel. Not that he’d expressed that anger or tried to assert himself. He didn’t trust himself with a baby, either. Emma was a nurse, after all. She knew better than he did about these things.

Well, he was learning now. And she didn’t have any choice but to trust him.

Step three, clean the critter off. Darcy grabbed a dozen or so wet wipes and swabbed the decks. He eyed the nether regions for signs he’d missed anything. Nope, that should be good enough for now. Later he would give him a bath. That, he was an expert on.

Billy smiled and made a gurgling noise. With only his undershirt on, his bottom was bare. He kicked his feet in the air. Darcy couldn’t help but laugh. “You like that fresh air and freedom, don’t you, kid? Does it feel good getting those wet pants off?”

He glanced around. Sienna was still in the next room with Emma. No one was about. He leaned over and blew a raspberry on Billy’s stomach. It made a big fat farting noise, the kind that appealed to guys like him and Billy.

Billy kicked harder. He laughed out loud. Darcy blew another raspberry on his tummy. There was no doubt he was enjoying playtime as much as Darcy. “You want another one? Do you, Billy? Here we go. I’m coming to get you....” He brought his face closer. “One.” Closer... “Two.” And closer... “Three—”

A spray of pee hit him in the cheek. “What the— Ew!” Billy giggled merrily, spraying Darcy, the bedspread and the wall. “Think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?” Darcy blindly reached for a towel or a fresh diaper.