Perfect Timing (48 page)

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Authors: Catherine Anderson

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Contemporary

BOOK: Perfect Timing
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Loni rolled her eyes. “Hello? Earth to the Harrigans. Can everyone please try to focus? The baby has
powers
.” She sent Quincy a pleading look. “
Think
. What if she has the gift of healing?”

Quincy knew Loni was trying to make a point, but he didn’t get what it was. “I’m sure she probably does—or there’s a good chance of it, anyway. All I can think about right now is my wife. Sorry, but I’ll worry about how I’m going to cope with the child-rearing problems later.”

“Child-rearing problems?” Zach echoed. “If tonight’s any example, if the kid gets in a serious snit, she might level your house in a high wind.”

Loni waved a hand again. “God, you people are so
dense
sometimes. If the baby has the gift of healing, she may be able to heal her mother. Why is nobody else tuning in to my channel here?”

Quincy’s heart jerked with a warm surge of hope. He quickly squelched it. “You haven’t seen my daughter.” He tried to show her size, but his hands were so big he couldn’t possibly convey the image to Loni. He fell back on stating the facts. “She weighs one-point-four pounds. She’s so tiny she doesn’t look real. So what if she has powers? She’s way too little right now to focus on using them. She can’t even really see yet.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Loni shot to her feet. When Clint tried to grasp her arm, she shook free, apparently as frustrated with him as she was with everyone else. “Gifts like these are
instinctive
. Do you think I
ever
in my entire life
invited
a vision? No, they came at me from nowhere from the time I was little, really little. My whole damned life until I met Clint was like a series of train wrecks, because I had no control, absolutely
none
, over my gift. My having no control doesn’t mean my gift wasn’t just as powerful, though.”

Quincy was still trying to keep a lid on the hope trying to blossom inside him. “When I cut myself, Ceara consciously decided to grab my wrist. She
consciously
called upon her gift to heal me. Stormy is way too tiny to consciously do anything. Don’t you get that, Loni?”

“See?” Zach said. “It stuck. I claim dibs on naming her. Even her dad is calling her Stormy.”

Loni rounded on her brother-in-law. “Credit for that can come later. Right now, Ceara may be dying, and we’re running out of time.” She shook off her husband’s hand again. “
Please
. You guys have to listen to me. I’m the only person here who can come close to understanding any of this. You have to trust me and do what I say.”

Frank stood up. “We got us a wrinkle here, honey, because it ain’t real clear to any of us what you’re sayin’.”

Loni moved two steps toward Quincy. “Then let me be clear. Quincy, go get your daughter.”

“She’s in intensive care. I can’t just go get her without an okay from Stevenson.”

“Then
get
an okay,” Loni persisted. “That baby needs to be in her mother’s arms.” She closed the remaining distance to clutch Quincy’s shoulder. “Don’t think; just
do
it. Trust me, Quincy. I think it may save Ceara’s life.”

* * *

Quincy didn’t know if he could get Stevenson on board for another paranormal venture or not, and deep down, he doubted he could plead the case very convincingly, because he honestly didn’t believe his tiny baby girl could do much of anything right now besides find her mouth with her fist. He roused the OB from a nap. She emerged from the closet, where she’d been passed out on a cot, to blink up at him, her dishwater blond hair poking out from her French braid as if she’d stuck her finger in a live light socket.

“Is it Ceara?” She glanced at her watch. “I was with her only fifteen minutes ago.”

Quincy quickly related to the doctor his sister-in-law’s theory that his daughter had the power to heal her mother.

Stevenson gaped at him. “That baby was waltzing with death not long ago. This healing business clearly drains the body. I’m sorry, Quincy, but sometimes a doctor goes with the odds and other times she sticks with the sure thing. The baby is going to be fine. I’m
sure
of that. I can’t possibly put her at risk again. Ceara
chose
to do it, so that was different. The baby can’t make choices for herself yet. I can’t make a call like this, and I won’t allow you to, either.”

Loni appeared at Quincy’s side. “Dr. Stevenson, I’m Quincy’s sister-in-law, and a clairvoyant.”

The doctor passed a hand over her bloodshot eyes. “Oh, great. A family full of druids and clairvoyants.” She shook her head. “Nothing you say is going to change my mind. A baby cannot make life-or-death decisions for herself, and I sure as hell won’t make them for her—end of conversation.”

Loni rushed to insert, “It isn’t a life-or-death decision for Stormy.”

“Stormy?” Dr. Stevenson cocked an eyebrow.

“Our temporary nickname for the baby,” Loni explained. “As tiny as she is, we’ve good reason to believe she caused that awful storm earlier.” Loni waved a hand. “Anyway, the baby—”

“Whoa!” Dr. Stevenson held up a hand. “That baby caused the storm? What on earth makes you think that? A nurse told me it took down trees all over town, and weather forecasters are scratching their heads because it wasn’t predicted, came on suddenly, and then just . . . stopped.”

“It stopped the instant you got Stormy swaddled in the warm blankets,” Quincy said. “She was happy again.” He related the story of Ceara’s birth to the doctor. “It’s clear that my daughter has inherited her mother’s gifts, possibly even the ability to heal, and using her gifts won’t harm her in any way, shape, or form.”

“She was born in this century,” Loni inserted, “and her powers are completely undiminished. Before Ceara came forward through time, she was told that the trials of the journey would either take away all her gifts or greatly weaken them. But for Stormy, that isn’t the case. Using her powers is as natural to her as breathing and won’t hurt her at all.”

Quincy pinched the bridge of his nose. “My only worry is that Stormy is too little to focus. How can she heal her mother if she can’t zero in on what’s wrong with her and consciously—” Quincy broke off. “Hell, I don’t know the name for what Ceara did when she healed my wrist and then the baby. To me, it felt like I got zapped with a high-voltage electrical current.”

Loni reached out and grabbed the doctor’s hand. “Please don’t let us down. Ceara is dying. All we want to do is tuck the baby into her arms to see what happens.”

“I could lose my license for allowing that.”

Loni laughed, albeit humorlessly. “Yeah, right, for letting a dying mother hold her newborn? I would think that’s a pretty common thing for doctors to allow.”

“But this is no ordinary newborn,” Stevenson pointed out.

“No,” Loni agreed, “but if you attempt to tell anyone that, you probably
will
lose your license, at least temporarily, because people will think you’re crazier than a loon.”

Stevenson smiled faintly. “At this moment, I’m wondering if they wouldn’t be right.” She searched Quincy’s gaze. “Are you sure—beyond any shadow of a doubt—that doing this will put your daughter in absolutely no danger?”

Quincy nodded. “I’m absolutely positive.”

“And are you willing to release me from any legal responsibility? I’ll take your word, Mr. Harrigan.”

Quincy glanced at Loni. She nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “I am.”

Quincy’s only uncertainty was that Loni might be wishing on rainbows.

Chapter Twenty

S
tevenson hugged her waist, bent her head to stare at the floor, and began tapping the toe of her Dansko Professional, sending out a solid thumping sound. When she finally glanced up, she sighed.

“Okay, here’s the thing.” She glanced at her watch again. “In twenty-eight minutes, give or take a few either way, two other doctors are coming on board, one to take over Ceara’s care, the other to take over Stormy’s. I’m an OB, and Ceara’s condition has moved clear out of my orbit. And Stormy is a preemie. It’s common practice with preemies for a pediatrician to take over. I’ve only been in charge of both of them this long because they were brought in during the middle of the night, and the storm caused so much damage that both specialists have had trouble reaching the hospital. Trees down over roads, no power in some areas. It’s a mess out there.”

Loni interjected. “So in a very short while, you’ll have no say in what happens.”

“Correct,” Stevenson replied, “and until you woke me, I was glad of it. I put in a full day yesterday, and I’ve been up all night. To say I’m exhausted is an understatement. I was looking forward to getting some relief so I could sleep.”

“And now?” Loni pressed.

Stevenson frowned, and then her mouth curved into a ghost of a smile. “Now I’m thinking I have a very small window of time to authorize a short mother-daughter visit.” She directed her gaze to Loni. “You’re right. It isn’t uncommon for a dying mother to be allowed to hold her baby toward the end. Supervised, of course, so no harm comes to the infant.”

“So you’ll do it?” Loni grinned at Quincy. “She’ll do it.”

“I will,” Stevenson conceded, “but time is of the essence. Once those other doctors arrive, this little experiment probably won’t happen. We need to get Stormy out of NICU, ASAP, and get her into Ceara’s arms.”

She spun away. Over her shoulder, she fired at Quincy, “Well, don’t just stand there! Get your family gathered outside Ceara’s room. I’ll take care of getting the baby there and clearing the birthing suite of nurses.” She turned to walk backward for a second. “I want no medical professionals in there, period. If a healing occurs, it will be the second unexplained miracle of the day, and we usually only get a couple a year. I definitely don’t want witnesses. You understand? My whole career is hanging in the balance.”

* * *

Loni left Quincy leaning against the wall outside Ceara’s room and went to the waiting area to gather the Harrigan troops. Quincy took advantage of the opportunity to close his eyes and just rest his brain for a couple of minutes. Soon he felt feminine hands rubbing his arms, and then big, hard ones, lightly grasping his shoulders. Family. Quincy thanked God for each and every person who’d stepped close to show love for him, but he didn’t have any remaining energy to respond to the gestures.

Thoughts of Ceara circled in his mind, kind of like a movie chopped into bits, tossed in a bag, given a good shake, and then played willy-nilly on a television screen. Ceara grasping his hand and leading him toward the bed on their wedding night, insisting that they do their duty. Ceara terrified the next morning when her hair got sucked into the outtake valve of his Jacuzzi tub. Ceara in Beethoven’s stall, wearing the old-fashioned gown and what looked like an oil filter on her head. Ceara standing at his stove, waiting to knock his eyes out with her new haircut, makeup, and seduction outfit. The memories brought tears to Quincy’s eyes and made him smile both at once. How could it be that he hadn’t known a little more than six months ago that she even existed, and now he couldn’t begin to imagine life without her?

Beside him, Quincy felt Loni press close. She whispered, “If Stormy has healing powers, there is no closer bond than that between a baby and its mother. Maybe just the baby’s touch will heal Ceara. Your little girl needs her mama. On some level, isn’t it possible that she might sense that her mother is ill and about to die?”

Quincy didn’t know, and he was afraid to place too much hope on a possibility. At this point, he needed to dig deep for strength and brace himself for the worst. If he ended up getting a miracle and Ceara lived, he’d be on his knees thanking God at least once every day for the rest of his life. But it was a big
if
, and he couldn’t count on it.

Stevenson arrived with Stormy carefully swaddled in her arms. She stood off to one side of the door as nurses filed out. One, a redhead who looked a bit older than the other two, paused to express her disagreement with the decision. “The patient is extremely unstable, Dr. Stevenson. It strikes me as very odd that you’re pulling off the nurses. I understand that the family would like a few minutes to say their good-byes, but it seems to me that they could do that while medical staff is present.”

Stevenson nodded. “I understand, Sharon, and I’ll call all of you back in shortly. The family just wishes for this to be a special moment. And that’s all it will be, a moment. You won’t be out of here for long.”

Quincy felt himself being guided through the open doorway by gentle hands. Once he saw Ceara, he could see nothing else. She’d lost ground since his last visit. He knew it with one glance. In his estimation, she could die at any moment, between one heartbeat and the next.

Stevenson handed the baby over to Loni. “This is your show.”

Quincy was glad it was somebody’s show, because he felt too numb and his thoughts were too disjointed for him to be in charge. Loni cuddled the baby close and moved quickly toward Ceara’s bed, approaching on the side where no tubes or cuffs were attached to her arm. Shifting the infant into the bend of one elbow, Loni drew the sheet away from Ceara’s chest. Then she beckoned to Mandy.

“Help me get her gown open. I want them to be skin-to-skin so Stormy recognizes who’s holding her.”

Quincy recalled how the baby had recognized his voice and touch. The memory jerked him out of his stupor. He watched Mandy bare Ceara’s right shoulder and breast. When he glanced at his brothers, he saw that they had the good manners to look away. Tucker, too. Only Quincy watched as Loni unwrapped Stormy’s minuscule body and placed her against her mother’s breast. The baby wailed at the feel of cold air against her, but then, as if instinct took over, the infant went still and nuzzled the side of Ceara’s breast, making tiny mewling sounds. Loni laughed softly.

“Yes, dear heart, it’s your mama.” Loni leaned over the bed, blocking Quincy’s view. Then she laughed lightly again. “There you have it, tiny one. Suckle all you like. Recognize the bond, that this is your mother and all is not well.”

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