Righteous Lies (Book 1: Dancing Moon Ranch Series) (3 page)

Feeling another
pain coming, she clenched her teeth and waited until it passed, then said,
"I suppose that would be okay." She rummaged in her hand bag for the
keys and gave them to Jack, who shoved them into the pocket of his sheepskin
parka and left the room to tell his brother what was going on. When he returned,
he offered Grace a hand, which she accepted, and when she was steady on her
feet, he grabbed her jacket and helped her into it, then walked with her out
into the cold. Snow had started falling heavily while they were in the clinic, and
she was relieved she wouldn't have to drive.

"Where's
your car?" Jack asked.

"There,"
Grace replied, pointing to her VW Bug, just outside the clinic.

After helping
Grace into the passenger seat, Jack folded his large frame behind the wheel,
then adjusted the driver's seat as far back as it could go, and said,
"Where to?"

Grace couldn't
answer because another pain had started, nor could she stop the grimace, or the
need to clutch her belly.

"What's
happening?" Jack asked.

"I don’t
know," Grace replied. "I'm having another pain. Just drive me home so
I can get in bed. Ohhh... umm." She caught her bottom lip between her
teeth and held it as the pain peaked. When it began to subside, she said,
"Turn right out of the parking lot."

Jack shoved the
key in the ignition, started the car, and turned left.

"Where are
you going?" Grace asked. "My house is the other way."

"But the
hospital's this way."

Grace started
to protest, but another sharp pain stopped her short. "I need to call the
midwife," she said, gripping her belly while doubled over as far as she
could.

"Yeah,
well you can do that after I get you to the hospital," Jack replied.

"I'm not
going to have this baby in a hospital," Grace said. "I'm having him
at home."

"Not if
you're having him right now," Jack replied. He geared down, made a sharp
turn, and shot forward, veering around a car as he headed toward the on-ramp to
the freeway.

Grace gritted
her teeth, not from the pain, but from the stubbornness of a man she hadn't
known existed two hours before, and who was now the father of her child. A man
who seemed determined to be a part of her life, at least until Marc Jr. was
eighteen...

It hit her then
that she was not carrying Marc Jr. There was nothing of her husband in the
child in her belly. And she knew nothing about the father of her child, other
than he was the size of a mountain man, and his child was the size of a
mountain man's son. Tears welled, and she turned her head away from Jack so he
couldn't see.

"It's
going to be okay," Jack said, and reached over to squeeze her hand.

Which shocked
her so much Grace jerked her hand away, using the gesture as an excuse to mop
her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said. "Pregnant women get emotional.
And would you please drive a little slower. There's snow on the road."

"You have
studded tires and I'm used to driving on snow," Jack said, while weaving
around a car to get into the fast lane. "We need to get you to the
hospital. How do you feel now?"

"I feel
like screaming, you're so bullheaded," Grace said, in an agitated voice.
"I asked you to slow down and you shot forward. I'm not in labor, I don't
need to go to the hospital, and I want to go home and get in bed."

Jack pulled off
at the next exit, cruised along the frontage road, and turned into the
emergency access to Portland General Hospital, pulling to a halt at the
entrance. A nurse came out with a wheelchair and opened the door. "Come
on, honey," she said, seeing Grace's large belly. "We'll get you
inside and have the doctor take a look." She poked her head in the car and
said to Jack, "There's emergency parking to your left." The nurse
helped Grace into the wheelchair and they headed through the automatic glass
doors.

"He's not
my husband," Grace explained as the nurse wheeled her into the curtained
cubicle of an examination room.

"Is he the
father of your child?" the nurse asked.

"Well
yes..." Another sharp pain hit, this time stronger, longer.

"Let's get
you into a hospital gown," the nurse said, helping Grace onto the exam
table.

Grace didn't
reply, because the pain had not let up. She started breathing the way she'd
been taught in childbirth classes... In... and out... In... and out... In...
and out...

"You
okay?" the nurse asked. "You're breathing heavily."

"It's the
way... we're taught... in childbirth... classes," Grace said, between
breaths.

"Lemaze?"

"No...
the... Bradley... Method."
 
In...
and out... In... and out...

"We have a
natural birthing room here, and there are classes on the Bradley Method, and
midwives on staff," the nurse said, while helping Grace out of her
clothes. "A lot of couples choose the Bradley Method. It's good having
fathers involved from the start, and when they aid in birthing by helping their
infant into the world there's instant bonding. The mother also needs a strong
hand to hold when hard labor hits."

"Yes, but
in my case—" Grace stopped short as another sharp pain cut in. Between
what she now realized were contractions, and while she continued breathing as
instructed, the nurse managed to get a hospital gown around her, and left.

While she lay
on the table waiting for the doctor, Grace realized that even though the child
she was carrying was not Marc's child, he was still her little boy, a child who'd
been growing inside her for seven and a half months, and who's heart was
beating strongly, and little foot was pressed against her belly, and tiny thumb
had been in his mouth when she saw the ultrasound. And now it made no
difference who his father was. She wanted her little boy more than she'd wanted
anything in her life. But if he came into the world now, he'd have to struggle
for his life because it was too soon...

Someone knocked
and peeked around the curtain. "I'm here to check you in." A woman
with a clipboard stepped into the room. After asking the necessary questions,
and having Grace sign several forms, the woman snapped a plastic bracelet
around Grace's wrist, and said, "Just relax, Mrs. Templeton. The doctor
will be in soon," then left the room.

Grace had just
recovered from another sharp pain when a nurse, and a doctor with a thick white
mustache and the face of a kindly grandfather, entered the room. The doctor
gave Grace a look of calm reassurance, and said, "Well, Mrs. Templeton, it
seems someone's trying to make an early entrance. Let's take a look."

After the nurse
had Grace lay on her back, the doctor positioned his hands on her belly just as
a pain started. "Early labor," he mused. "Not
Braxton-Hicks." After palpating her stomach, he placed Grace's feet in the
stirrups and draped a sheet over her. The doctor had just started the pelvic
exam when the nurse, who'd wheeled Grace into the hospital and helped her into
her gown, entered the room and said, "Dr. Irwin, this is the baby's
father. They've been attending birthing classes, the Bradley Method. He's very
concerned."

"Come on
in, young man," the doctor said.

Before Grace
could protest, another pain hit hard...

And Jack walked
into the room. "Is she in labor?" he asked the doctor.

"He's not
my... " Grace was about to say
husband
,
but the contraction grew in intensity and her words were cut off, replaced by a
sharp groan accompanied by a grimace of pain. She started breathing in... and
out... In... and out... In... and out...

Jack reached
out and took her hand. "It's okay, honey," he said. "Squeeze
until the contraction passes." He looked at the doctor. "She's not
going to deliver now is she?"

"We'll do
our best to stop things," the doctor said. "The kind of contractions
your wife is having are causing her cervix to open earlier than normal, which
can result in a premature baby."

Grace waved her
hand to tell the doctor she wasn't Jack's wife, but catching the glint of
diamonds in her wedding rings, she decided it was pointless to go into a
diatribe about artificial insemination and mislabeled vials and embarrass the
doctor.

Jack's no different than the nurse or the
doctor
, she told herself, as she clutched Jack's hand while breathing in
and out as the pain continued to hold.
Strangers
have been delivering babies for centuries... cab drivers, policemen, firemen...

Except this
stranger was the father of her son, and his child could be minutes away from
making his entry into the world...

"Her
membranes are intact," the doctor said. "With rehydration there's a
good chance the labor can be stopped, but she'll need complete bed rest, and she'll
have to keep her legs elevated."

"What are
you going to do to stop it?" Jack asked, clearly concerned.

"Start her
on an I-V of magnesium sulfate," the doctor replied. "In many cases,
rehydrating and keeping the mother on her side is enough to stop premature
labor. She'll be here for a few hours. The longer the baby's in the womb, the
less chance for the child to have brain and other neurological complications,
as well as breathing problems. Your wife should stay on bed rest until the
pregnancy progresses some... at least a couple of weeks."

"I can't
just stay in bed—" Grace let out a long groan as another contraction
started.

"Squeeze
again honey, as hard as you want," Jack said.

As Grace
gripped his hand, she looked up at Jack, whose face showed concern and compassion.
And as bizarre as it was, now she wanted him to stay. The thought that
somebody
, other than herself, actually
cared about the baby she was carrying had tears misting her eyes. Jack put his
other hand on her forehead and held it there, and she gave him a wavering
smile.

As the
contraction began to subside, the doctor, who'd been waiting for it to pass,
said to Jack, "You ever help deliver a baby before?"

Jack took so
long to reply, Grace looked up at him, and when she did, she saw a look so
intense, and distant, she wondered again if he'd faced some heartbreak, maybe
been present when his brother's child was delivered and they learned things
weren't right.

"No,"
Jack finally answered the doctor.

"Well,
watching movies in childbirth class is one thing. Seeing your son come into the
world and being the hands that cradle him when he leaves his mother's body will
be an experience you'll never forget. That's what's so good about the Bradley
Method. The fathers are a part of the entire process, including the
delivery."

The doctor
began palpating Grace's belly. "You two have a big boy on the way,"
he said. "If I hadn't seen the size of you," he addressed Jack,
"I'd be concerned about diabetes. But your son's fine. Has a strong
heartbeat. He'll be a ten pounder if he goes to term."

"Can she
deliver a baby that size without a caesarian?" Jack asked.

"She'll
have an episiotomy," the doctor said.

"I'm not
having an episiotomy," Grace snapped.

"A clean
cut's better than a tear," the doctor argued.

"I'm
having my baby at home."

"Who
talked you into that?" the doctor asked. "You?" he said to Jack.

"Not
me," Jack said. "I'm against it."

"You have
no say in this," Grace called out.

"They get
testy about this time," the doctor chided. "But if she's insistent on
having the baby at home," he said to Jack, "you'd better learn how to
manage her perineum when the crown emerges or she'll tear. Come here and I'll
show you what to do."

"No wait!"
Grace yelped.
"Ohhh... umm... " she moaned, as another contraction began. She
started breathing rapidly in...
 
and
out... In... and out.... In... and out...

The nurse pried
Grace's hand from Jack's and motioned for Jack to join the doctor.

Grace was
relieved when Jack left the room.

"He'll
probably be okay during the delivery," the doctor said. "Men aren't
cut from the same tough fabric as women. They get squeamish. But childbirth
classes will help."

Grace was
tempted to explain the situation but it seemed pointless now, so she said
nothing.

After the
doctor finished his examination, and Grace was laying on her side with a pillow
behind her back and an I-V in her arm with the drip bag overhead, the nurse
turned down the light and said, "You might as well take a nap, honey. This
will take a few hours."

"Where
is...?" Where is who? Jack wasn't her husband or her boyfriend. He was a man
she'd only just met who knew almost as much about her anatomy as the doctor did
and who was the father of her child through accidental sperm donation. That
wasn't easy to explain...

"Your
husband's in the maternity ward in the birthing center watching a film on
natural childbirth," the nurse said, eliminating an awkward explanation.
"The doctor suggested he watch it. He must be new to childbirth
classes."

"He's
only... just become interested," Grace said.

"Well,
maybe all he needed was a little drama. You rest now. He'll be in later."

Grace tried not
to think of all the ramifications of the sperm mix-up—telling Marc's parents that
they'd never have a grandchild by Marc, and telling her parents, who'd been
against the idea from the start, that the father of their grandchild was a
cowboy she knew nothing about, and telling her sister, Justine, that the man
who'd fathered her unborn nephew was off-limits to her because... She couldn't
internalize why Jack was off limits to Justine, other than Justine always
turned the head of any guy Grace ever attracted...