She's Having a Baby (15 page)

“Where's this facility?” he asked.

Aggie gave him the address her vet had given her, then corrected herself when she realized that she'd transposed the numbers. Luckily, it wasn't located too far away.

Traffic at four in the morning in the city was decent. They made good time.

The moment he pulled up before the building, his the only car in the lot except for an old tan Volvo, Quade jumped out of the car and hurried to help Aggie with the animal.

MacKenzie was there ahead of him.

“I've got her,” he said, gently elbowing MacKenzie aside. “You ring the bell, tell them we're coming.”

This time he took the dog from Aggie. “Careful,” she cried.

“I'm being as gentle as I can, Aggie.”

She nodded, attempting to force a smile to her lips. “I know you are, dear.”

When there was no response after she rang the bell once, MacKenzie resorted to knocking just as Aggie had. The door opened as Quade and Aggie reached the single-story white building.

“He was attacked,” Aggie cried. “Can you help him?”

The vet looked at the blood-soaked handkerchief Quade was holding against the dog's neck. “We'll do our best,” the man promised. Admitting them into the building, he gestured toward the small foyer. “Wait right here. Julie, I need a gurney.”

The next moment, a dark-haired woman in a white
smock came out of the back room, pushing a gurney before her. Very gently, Quade placed Cyrus on the pristine surface. The dog cried again and Aggie pressed her hand to her mouth.

“He's going to be all right,” MacKenzie told her, putting her arms around the older woman. “Are you going to operate?” she asked the vet.

“Right away.” Picking up a clipboard from the desk, he handed it to Aggie. “Just fill out the information for our files and leave it on the desk here.” With that, he pushed the gurney into the back area and disappeared.

Quade moved in front of the vet's assistant, preventing the woman from following. “How long will it take?”

She seemed uncertain. “Might be a couple of hours.” There was compassion in her eyes as she looked at Aggie. “You might as well go home. We'll call you when the operation's over.”

Quade never hesitated. He knew exactly what Aggie had to be going through. Cyrus was her companion and she loved the small animal. There was no way she would want to wait out his surgery at home, not when it appeared to be so serious.

“We'll wait right here,” he told the assistant.

The woman nodded. The next moment, she hurried after the vet, disappearing behind the double doors.

There was no waiting room to speak of. Only the foyer where they had entered. There were a couple of folding chairs leaning against the wall. Quade brought them over, setting them up one at a time.

“Why don't you sit down?” he suggested to Aggie. “It looks like this is going to take a while.”

Aggie wrapped her arms around herself, staring at the closed doors. When she made no response, Quade gently guided her to the first chair.

She sat down. Then, as if suddenly aware of her surroundings, she said, “Look, why don't you two go home? I'll be all right here. After the vet talks to me, I can catch a cab.”

“Not a chance,” Quade told her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. “You don't have to face this alone.”

He had no way of knowing how much his simple gesture of kindness moved MacKenzie. “You should take MacKenzie home,” Aggie insisted.

“No, he shouldn't,” MacKenzie countered. “Besides, I don't have any place to be.”

Aggie looked at the large clock that hung on the wall. It was four-twenty. “How about in bed?”

MacKenzie glanced at Quade before answering. “Tossing and turning is getting a bit old. Looks like you're stuck with the two of us.”

Aggie's mouth curved in a half smile. “Looks like.”

Quade made himself comfortable on the floor next to the chair Aggie had taken. MacKenzie sat down on the chair next to hers.

Aggie placed her hand on Quade's head affectionately. “You two are the best,” she told them softly. “I'm not going to forget this. And neither will Cyrus.”

“He'll pull through,” MacKenzie said again, knowing that it helped to hear reinforcement.

Quade nodded. “He's tough.” And then he paused before adding, “Just like Rochester.”

“Rochester?” Leaning forward, MacKenzie looked around Aggie.

He'd probably made a mistake, mentioning the animal, but maybe there was no harm in it if it helped pass the time and gave Aggie a little hope. “The Jack Russell terrier I had when I was growing up. Actually, it was a mix, but he looked just like a Jack Russell.”

“You had a dog?” MacKenzie echoed incredulously. She couldn't readily picture Quade with a dog.

“Yes,” he told her matter-of-factly, “I did.” Arms clasped around his knees, he looked at Aggie. “As a matter of fact, when I look at Cyrus, I can sometimes see Rochester. Lately I've been thinking of maybe getting a dog again.”

Aggie nodded. “Certainly can't beat them for companionship. Unless, of course, you bring a loved one into the picture.”

“Even then,” MacKenzie said meaningfully. She was looking at Quade as she said it. And wishing she wasn't feeling what she was.

“H
e's going to be all right.”

The moment the veterinarian uttered the words to Aggie, MacKenzie gave the woman a heartfelt hug. She could feel tears springing to her eyes.

Looking over Aggie's shoulder, Quade could see the tears shimmering in MacKenzie's eyes. The sight left him mystified.

“Didn't you hear him?” he asked as she released Aggie. “He just said—”

Trying to get a grip, MacKenzie waved Quade's logic away. Men had no clue when it came to women, she thought. “I know what he said.”

Quade glanced toward the vet, but the older man merely shook his head indulgently. “Then why are you crying?” Quade pressed

“The female of the species cries when she's happy,” Aggie told him. She was drying her own eyes with a wadded-up handkerchief. She clasped the vet's hand. “Thank you, Doctor, thank you.”

Dr. Vladimir Brown seemed only too happy to be part of the happy outcome. “He's asleep now and we'd like to keep him here for observation. It's just a formality,” he assured Aggie quickly when concern returned to her features.

“I think she'd like to see him,” Quade prompted the vet.

Stepping back, the vet opened the door to the rear of the clinic. “Certainly. Right this way.”

With his assistant manning the front, Dr. Brown led them all into the back, past the area where emergency surgeries were performed with a fair amount of regularity. A lingering antiseptic odor seemed to cling to the very air as they walked by. The cages where animals were allowed to recover were located directly behind the operating salon.

Cyrus was the lone occupant as all the other cages stood empty. He was sleeping in the center bottom cage. The dog's ear and throat were bandaged. He looked as if he'd been in a war. And lost.

MacKenzie came up beside Aggie and threaded her arms through hers in a show of support and comfort. “We should put a caption under him reading, You Should See The Other Guy.”

Aggie smiled and nodded, looking at her four-footed companion. “I think he'd like that.” She sighed deeply. “I'm sure his pride was hurt. He thinks of himself as a little tough guy.”

As usual, Quade addressed the business end of the details. Turning toward the vet, he asked, “When can she come by and pick him up?”

“In about five, six hours.” Dr. Brown looked at Aggie. “We have your number. We'll give you a call when he's ready to go.”

“Cyrus,” Quade told the vet quietly for Aggie's benefit. “His name is Cyrus.”

The man smiled, understanding. “When Cyrus is ready to go,” he corrected.

There were fresh tears shining in Aggie's eyes as she nodded.

Quade glanced at his watch. It was almost seven. By the time he brought them home, it would be time for him to get ready to go to the lab. That meant that he would have been up for over twenty-four hours straight. Not unlike the days when he'd pulled long shifts back to back as an intern.

Thanking the vet, Quade turned to the two women. “I'd better get you two back.”

MacKenzie looked at her own watch and swallowed a groan. How had it gotten to be so late? She didn't have to be in until ten today, but that meant there was no way she was going to get any rest.

But then, that was all but a foregone conclusion even before Aggie had shown up at her door, she thought, following the woman out of the clinic. Because she was trying not to think about the man walking behind her, she focused her attention on the woman leading the way to Quade's car.

 

The short trip back was spent with Aggie vocalizing her gratitude. Her relief over Cyrus's pending recovery had turned into charged, nervous energy. She talked nonstop, which was a good thing because MacKenzie didn't feel like talking at all and apparently neither did Quade.

Aggie was still talking as they got out of Quade's car and walked to their apartments. Aggie's was first and they paused at her door.

“Certainly makes you take a look at your priorities, doesn't it?” she concluded, reaching into her pocket for her key. “Here I was, bent on conquering new fields, determined to become the next comic sensation and neglecting what I had in my own backyard.” She shook her head. “I haven't been paying as much attention to Cyrus as I should, but he just went on loving me anyway.”

She inserted her key into the lock and opened the door. But instead of going inside, she gazed at the couple who had been there for her in her time of need. Her face softened into an almost beatific smile.

“You just never know, do you? Each of us are only here for a finite time and we should all enjoy each other while we can.” Moving forward, she kissed each of them on the cheek. “I don't know what I would have done if you two weren't here.” And then, taking a deep breath, she waved them to their individual apartments. “Go back to your lives—I've kept you long enough.”

MacKenzie remained where she was. “You'll be okay?” she asked. The woman had been through a great deal and she wasn't exactly young. This was more
Quade's field of expertise than MacKenzie's, but she couldn't help being concerned.

Aggie laughed. Her eyes moved from one to the other, emotions that defied description washing over her face. “I'll be fine.” With that, she walked inside her apartment and closed the door.

The moment the door closed, MacKenzie was aware of the stillness in the early morning air. In the distance was the sound of cars, but here, there was none. Awkwardness threatened to settle in, draping itself around her shoulders.

She let out a shaky breath. “Well, I'd better be getting ready,” she murmured, moving to her own door. She began fishing through her purse for her keys, deliberately avoiding Quade's eyes.

“She's right, you know.”

The sound of his voice rumbled around her, surprising her. Turning, she looked up at him. “About what?”

“About time being finite. About priorities and enjoying one another when we can.” He shrugged. “About a lot of things.”

Quade shoved his hands into his pockets, wishing he were better at vocalizing his thoughts, his feelings. He felt as clumsy and unequal to the task as a ballet dancer with size-thirteen feet. For the last few days, ever since he'd discovered that MacKenzie was pregnant with another man's child, doubts and questions had been eating away at him.

There was no good way to ask. He decided that all he could do was just to jump in with both feet and put it to her as directly as possible.

“Do you love him?”

The question hit her right between the eyes. She stared at him. “Him? Who?”

Impatience came, dragging uneasiness in its wake. Just how many
him
s were there in her life? “The baby's father.”

She could feel every muscle in her body tightening, like an animal preparing for a fight. Except in this case, she wasn't an animal. But this still had the makings of a confrontation.

Her breath grew short as her pulse accelerated. Was he going to pick a fight right here? When she felt so unprepared to defend herself? With effort, she toned down her defensiveness and examined the question before answering. Honesty was her only choice.

MacKenzie raised her chin. “I did. Once.”

He could read between the lines when it came to scientific data. When it came to women, he was hopeless. He needed a road map and a compass. But most of all, he needed a guide.

“But not anymore,” he pressed.

“No,” she replied evenly, “not anymore.” Did he want it spelled out in blood? Jeff was in her past. She'd thought, hoped, that
he
was going to be in her present and future. So much for ever getting a job as a fortune teller, she mocked herself.

Her eyes held his, trying to discern what was at the bottom of all this.

His eyes were flat, not giving her a single clue to work with.

“Why?” he wanted to know.

Her temper flared as she threw up her hands and nearly sent her keys flying.

“What do you
want
from me?” she demanded. “Are you trying to get me to say that I stopped loving him because I fell in love with you? Well, I didn't. I stopped loving him before that ever happened.
Before
I ever fell in love with you,” she shouted. “There, I said it. I love you. But don't let that get in your way. I won't be bothering you. I didn't bother you now,” she pointed out, gathering a full head of steam. “You came over to my place. And I wouldn't have let you take us to the clinic, except that Aggie needed help and…”

He was very, very tempted to stop her mouth the best way he knew how. With his own. But for the time being, he let her vent, knowing it was important for her to have all this out in the open between them. Because secrets would only kill budding, thriving things.

“I know how that is,” he said quietly when she paused to catch her breath. Since she didn't appear to know what he was referring to, he elaborated. “Needing help.”

MacKenzie continued to stare at him. She could almost physically feel the minutes ticking away and she knew that at least he was going to be late. But she couldn't stop herself. He'd made an admission to her, however abstract, she would have never thought he was capable of making.

“What would you know about it?” she challenged. Emotional eunuchs didn't know they needed help.

His words came out slowly, as if he were carefully measuring each one the way he did the different variables in his experiments.

“I know I need help in forgetting about you.” He saw her eyes widen in surprise. “I've been trying, these last few days, but it hasn't been going very well.”

She stared at him, stunned. She would have never thought he could make such a confession. Was she just overtired and hallucinating? “Well, don't look at me. You're on your own there.”

“Except that I don't want to be.” Eroding the distance between them, he took a risk and put his hands on her waist. She didn't shrug him away. It gave him hope. “Being on my own after having someone to love is too empty. Too stark.”

He paused, trying to find the words that continued to elude him. It was like playing hide-and-seek with the wind, but he did the best he could. He suddenly realized that if he couldn't make her understand now, he might never get another chance.

He was risking everything.

“After losing Ellen, I never thought that I could ever feel anything again.” He drew her in a little closer, doing more with his eyes than with his hands. “That anyone could ever make me feel again. The truth was, I didn't want to find anyone. I was afraid of finding someone.” He took a breath. “Now, the only thing I'm more afraid of than finding someone is losing that someone. I've spent these last few days trying to get back to where I was before you bounced into my life—”

“Bounced?” she echoed incredulously.

“You do bounce,” he pointed out, his mouth softening as he allowed himself a smile. “There's so much life, so much energy in you, you just bounce into every day.
But I can't get back to where I was,” he continued, his eyes serious. “Not with you living next door. Not when I know all I have to do is knock on your door to see you.”

His words were giving her hope. But she was afraid to hope. Afraid of walking out on that platform and finding that there was nothing beneath her feet but air. She wasn't some Saturday-morning-cartoon character who could scramble back to safety. She would fall flat on her face.

Her eyes held his as she asked, “So you're telling me you want one of us to move?”

God, communication just
wasn't
his forte. Exasperated, he made it as plain as he could. He bared his soul. “No, I'm telling you that I love you.”

She was free-falling, she realized. But definitely
not
like some Saturday-morning cartoon. This was wonderful. There was wind beneath her sails and exhilaration rushing through her.

“Well, then, why didn't you say something? Why didn't you knock?”

There was no point in telling her that he had materialized so quickly outside her door this morning when she was dashing out to take Aggie and Cyrus to the clinic because he'd finally made up his mind to do just that. At four o'clock in the morning, he had come face-to-face with his feelings and decided to do something about them instead of waiting for them to somehow vaporize and leave him alone.

So now he did something he'd never done before in his life.

He pretended.

Quade raised his hand and knocked on an invisible door.

MacKenzie stared at him, a stunned expression on her face. Not quite trusting her own eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Knocking on your door,” he told her matter-of-factly. “Aren't you going to answer it? And my question?”

Had she missed something? “What question?”

It was a step that had filled him with fear, with dread. But as he looked into her eyes, he found that it took no effort, no courage at all to ask, “Will you marry me?”

She
couldn't
be hearing him right. “What?”

“Will you marry me?” he repeated, this time with more verve.

It wasn't April 1st, but it had to be a trick.
Oh, please, God, don't let it be a trick.
She could feel her heart begin to hammer wildly.

“You want to marry me.”

“I want to marry you.”

“Even though I'm pregnant.”

“Even though you're pregnant. The way I look at it, I'm getting two for the price of one.”

She couldn't believe him. Was still afraid to believe him. Because to believe and then find out otherwise would hurt too much. “You're kidding me.”

Quade framed her face with his hands. He was way overdue to leave for work, but none of that held any importance to him, not now. Not until he could make her believe him.

“I have a limited sense of humor. I don't often kid and never about something as serious as this. I want you and I want your baby, MacKenzie. I can't put it any plainer than that.”