Angel's Rest (34 page)

“He left you?” Celeste clarified, her brow furrowing in concern.

Nic nodded. “I thought … we both thought … that I was losing the babies. I’d had a backache and a general sense that something was wrong. Then I started feeling contractions, and I called Dr. Marshall and she told me to come in. CareFlight couldn’t come, so he drove me. He signed the admission papers, then he left. Didn’t say good-bye or anything. He just left.”

Celeste clucked her tongue. “Oh, Gabe.”

“We didn’t know if I was in labor or not. If the babies were in danger or not. He left me to face it alone.”

“I can’t believe he’d do that,” Sage murmured, gazing at her with what Nic could only interpret to be pity. That made it even worse.

“That’s exactly what he did. At first I thought it was taking an exceptionally long time to fill out paperwork. Eventually I asked the nurse to go find him. When she returned from the parking lot with the news that the Jeep was nowhere in sight …” Nic closed her eyes. “I realized he’d run out on me. I swear it hurt worse than walking in on Greg and his lover in our bed.”

Sarah folded her arms and tapped her toes. “That’s unforgivable, Nic. Totally unforgivable.”

Celeste sighed heavily and shook her head. “I do believe that men can be the dumbest of God’s creatures.”

Sage took hold of Nic’s hand. “But you’re okay? The three of you are all right?”

Again Nic nodded, swallowing against the lump of emotion in her throat. “She’s going to keep us here and monitor us until noon just as a precaution, and after that …”

“Bed rest?” Sarah asked.

“Maybe. We discussed it. I guess the newest studies show it’s often unnecessary. That said, I’d rather be safe than sorry. That’s why …” Nic paused and licked her lips.

“I’m not going back to Eternity Springs. I’ve decided to go to Denver for the duration of the pregnancy, or at least until we’ve passed the magic twenty-eight-week mark. Dr. Marshall is setting me up with a perinatologist there, and she says they have a great newborn intensive care facility in Aurora.”

Sage nodded. “The Children’s Hospital has a state-of-the-art NICU.”

“You shouldn’t let that sorry dog run you out of town,” Sarah snapped. “Eternity Springs is your home.”

Nic lifted her chin. “I’m not running anywhere. I’m protecting my babies. After this, I’m a little gun-shy about trusting their lives to CareFlight.” Smiling at Celeste,
she added, “I’m going to hate missing the grand opening.”

“Well, there is a good chance you won’t.” Celeste smiled at the ER nurse who brought her a chair, then said, “Zach Turner called while we were on our way here. There’s been a mud and rock slide on the mountain behind Angel’s Rest. It’s done a substantial amount of damage to the new buildings in back. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but our ahead-of-schedule status just took a knockout punch, I’m afraid. I’m going to reschedule the grand opening for around Labor Day.”

“Labor Day.” Nic gave a bittersweet smile. “Dr. Marshall said I should shoot for that as my red-letter day. If I can carry the babies that long, they won’t be considered premature.”

“Cool.” Sarah gave her a thumbs-up. “We’ll plan a ribbon cutting and a cord cutting on the same day.”

Celeste patted Nic’s leg and said, “What can we do to help, dear? Do you want me to talk to Gabe?”

Nic shook her head. “No. Thanks, Celeste, but the things Gabe Callahan needs to hear, I need to say.”

She’d started a list of them between six and seven o’clock this morning. She was already on page four.

Her friends kept her company until activity in the ER picked up and the nurse declared that two of her three visitors must leave. “I’ll go,” Sarah said. “I’d like to run a couple of errands before we head back.”

Sage spoke to Celeste. “You mentioned you needed to pick up something at the motorcycle shop. Why don’t I stay with Nic while you guys do your errands, then we can stop by Julio’s for lunch before we hit the road.” To Nic she added, “You are going home before you leave for Denver, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I need to pack up some necessities, and I’m going to call Ali Timberlake and see if she can help me
figure out a place to stay. She knows Denver better than I do.”

Sarah leaned over the hospital bed and gave Nic a hug. “I’m so glad this was a false alarm. I think Gabe Callahan needs a swift kick in the butt.”

“I won’t argue with either point.”

When Sarah moved aside, Celeste leaned over the bed and kissed Nic’s forehead. “All will be well, Nic, dear. Have faith.”

“I’m sorry about Angel’s Rest.”

“Don’t be. Nothing happened there that can’t be fixed.” Eyeing Nic meaningfully, she added, “The same as here.”

Pesky tears stung Nic’s eyes again at that. She wanted to argue, but instead she said simply, “Thanks for coming.”

When they left, Sage pulled up a chair beside the bed and took a seat. Nic saw her study the monitors and nod knowingly. Nic had the sense that Sage felt right at home. She blurted the question without thinking. “Have you been in my shoes before, Sage?”

“Hmm? You mean, has a man ever let me down royally?”

“The monitors. You look at them like you know what they mean. I’m sorry, it’s nosy of me, but … it made me wonder if you’ve been pregnant.”

Sage shook her head. “No, never pregnant, but I am familiar with fetal monitors.”

She stood up and paced the room, her arms folded, her long broomstick skirt swishing around her ankles, her expression agitated. “Look, Nic. If I tell you something—a deep, dark secret—will you promise to keep it to yourself and not use it against me?”

Nic’s brow knitted. Her deepest, darkest secret? Use it against her? What in the world did Sage have to confess?
“Of course I’ll keep your confidence, Sage. You have my word.”

Sage licked her lips. “Okay. Well. Nic, it’s like this. This move to Denver … that’s a drastic decision considering you’ve had a normal pregnancy so far. Are you truly worried about medical care?”

“After today, yes, I am.”

“For CareFlight to be unavailable … that was such an aberration.”

“I know, but it’s more than that. Dr. Marshall wants to see me every two weeks for a while and weekly after that. That’s a lot of trips to Gunnison.”

“What if … there was a doctor in town? A specialist?”

Nic figured it out then and wondered why it had taken her so long. “You’re a doctor, Sage?”

“I was. I am. I … oh, dear. Nic, I trained as an obstetrical surgeon. If you don’t want to go to Denver, I’m well qualified to oversee your pregnancy.”

“You’re a
doctor
? That’s your
secret
?”

Sage shoved her fingers through her thick auburn hair. “Look, it’s a long story that’s not worth going into if you are sure about Denver. If you want to stay in Eternity, I’ll give you my curriculum vitae, but I’ll need at least a full bottle of wine to get through the story.”

“Oh, this is so not fair. Not only do you tease me with the story of the century, or at least the month, but you tease me with alcohol I can’t drink.”

Sage looked at her and laughed. “You’re okay, aren’t you, Nic? This incident … his idiocy … hasn’t broken you.”

“I’m not broken. I’m angry. In fact, I’m furious.”

Sage’s gaze stole to the monitors and she smirked. “Your blood pressure supports that statement. Do you want to talk about it? Would that help?”

Nic flopped her head back against the pillow. “Thanks,
but no. I think I need time to lick my wounds. Pretty good job, by the way, of deflecting the subject away from you, Dr. Anderson.”

She grimaced. “Look, Nic, you’ve been a wonderful friend to me. When you had your accident, I failed to step up and it’s haunted me ever since. For lots of reasons that have nothing to do with legalities or my license, I can’t practice medicine anymore, but I can be your obstetrician if you’d like. I want you to have the choice.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.” Nic placed both hands on her belly and rubbed it. “I think, though, that I’ll still go to Denver. It’s not only the medical issues that make me want to leave Eternity. I need some time to myself, I think. Time away from Gabe. I need to reassess my … well, everything.”

“I understand. Would you like me to accompany you to Denver, just to see you settled? Maybe meet with your new doctor?”

“Yes. Absolutely, Sage. I admit I was worried about the trip part of this.”

“Don’t worry one bit. I’m here for you.”

Sage’s words warmed her heart and lingered in her mind as later that afternoon she returned home to Eternity Springs. When she spied Tiger lounging on the front porch, she tensed. She hadn’t expected Gabe to be home this time of day.

But Tiger’s presence proved to be a false indication. Gabe wasn’t home after all. Nic went about her tasks, retrieving suitcases from the attic and filling them with necessities. She wasn’t taking much. She didn’t need much. She didn’t intend to do much more than lounge around, grow her babies, and figure out where to go from here.

She packed her suitcases lightly, carried them to her
car, then sat in the rocker in the library with Tiger at her feet.

She dialed Gabe’s cell phone. When he failed to pick up, she left a message. “I’m home. I’d like to talk to you. I’ll be here until six.”

She thumbed the disconnect button and waited.

Gabe stopped to buy flowers.

He knew he owed her much more than a dozen red roses, but he figured this would be as good a place as any to start. He had a lot of ground to make up. Walking out on her that way had been a lousy thing to do. He was counting on Nic’s forgiving nature to help him out of the hole he’d dug for himself.

Fleeing the hospital had been the single most cowardly act of his life. He still couldn’t believe he’d been such an ass. He’d peeled out of that parking lot as if the hounds of hell were at his back. He’d made the two-hour trip back to Eternity Springs in ninety minutes. On wet roads.

He’d driven home, grabbed the bottle of scotch, and taken a long, hot shower. When neither the hot water nor the potent whiskey warmed him, he’d gone to Angel’s Rest and worked outside, moving mud beneath a finally clearing sky. The physical work eventually chased away the numbness, and he’d nutted up the courage to call the hospital. Nic’s doctor had been as cold as Murphy Mountain in January when she’d given him the good news. Hearing that Nic and both babies were fine and on their way home had made him go weak in the knees all over again.

Then he’d thought about facing Nic, and his stomach took to rolling all over again.

Now the time had come to take his medicine. He’d showered and changed into clean clothes before leaving Angel’s Rest. As he pulled his Jeep into the drive, he
wondered why Nic had left her car on the street. Grabbing the flowers, which the florist had wrapped in green tissue paper and tied with red ribbon, he drew a bracing breath, planned his opening sentence, and climbed the front steps. He opened the front door, spied Nic in her rocking chair looking ripe and beautiful and cold, and his smooth apology flew from his mind, leaving only the basic fact. Crossing the room, he handed her the roses and said, “Nic, I’m so sorry.”

She set the flowers aside with barely a look. “Yeah, Callahan, you are.”

So he was going to have to work for her forgiveness. He deserved that. He stepped back, noticing for the first time that the boxer sat at her feet. Funny—usually the mutt ran at him the moment he walked in the door.
Hope he isn’t sick
.

Dismissing the dog, Gabe rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t have excuses, just an explanation. Will you listen to it?”

“Gabe, there’s no—”

“Please?” he interrupted.

She closed her eyes and made a sweeping gesture with her hand.

“You probably figured out that I had what amounted to a flashback in the Jeep because I called you Jen. The two incidents were … totally different and yet eerily similar. Horribly similar. I snapped, Nic. That’s the long and the short of it. I went a little crazy thinking about losing the babies like I’d lost Matt, losing you like I’d lost Jennifer.”

He paused, expecting her to offer a word of comfort like she always did. This time, however, she remained silent. Quiet and cold.

It appeared that he’d screwed up even worse than he’d thought. Maybe it was time to pull out the big guns.

Gabe sat in the club chair opposite Nic, propped his
elbows on his knees, and leaned forward earnestly. “Here’s what I’ve figured out, Nic. I can move on from Jen. I have moved on from Jen. Her face no longer haunts me. I don’t hear her voice in my head. You are the woman who haunts me now, Nicole. I’ve moved on to
you
. I’m in love with
you.
”

After a moment’s hesitation, her mouth twisted. “So what now? Do the heavens part and the angels sing? Are the babes in my womb supposed to leap for joy?”

Gabe sat back, shocked at her bitter tone and the flash of temper in her eyes as she picked up speed. “Well, guess what? That’s not happening. You had your chance, Gabe, and you blew it. I gave you everything I had—my sympathy, my compassion, my patience. I was your soft place to fall and you abused it. Abused me. You are worse than my father.”

“Wait a minute—”

“At least Bryce Randall never lied to me. He never pretended to care. Never pretended that he’d be there if I needed him. When he left us, he did it honestly. He never once gave me hope. That’s your sin, Callahan. You allowed me to hope and dream for my happily ever after. Let me tell you, this is more horror movie than chick flick happy ending.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Too bad. None of this is fair.” She rose from the rocking chair, put her hands on her hips, and glared at him. “I’ve finally figured out that grief is your lifeblood. You thrive on it.”

That pissed him off. “You think I want to grieve?” He stood, his hands balled at his sides. “You think I enjoy having my heart ripped open and bleeding?”

She shook a finger at him. “See, there you go. Your grief is as much a part of you as your DNA. It’s all about you. It’s been all about you from day one. Well, guess what, Callahan. It’s not anymore. Now it’s about these
babies. They are the future. You know, I never asked you to forget your past. Never. But you damn sure need to keep the past in the past and remember that you didn’t die with them, Gabe.” She laid a hand over her womb and added, “These babies are proof of that. But no, you cling to your grief like a lifeline. So much for moving on.”