The Baby Race (23 page)

She knew Race would insist on providing child
support. But what would she do if he wanted visitation rights? How
could she stand to see him without begging him to love her?

Whosit gave a sharp kick. The ache in her
back intensified and radiated around her sides.

"Are you ready?" Race stuck his head through
the kitchen door, but didn't come any closer.

"Bobbie Sue's out in the truck. Did you tell
her she could bring Cassandra? She insists you did."

"Is Cassandra wearing her leash?" Claire
tried to ignore the hurt she felt at his avoidance.

Race grinned and nodded.

"Then I guess we have to let her come
along."

They'd had this argument with Bobbie Sue
before. Whereas Frick and Frack interacted with their people like
normal cats, ignoring them or gracing them with their feline
presence as it suited their moods, Cassandra followed Bobbie Sue
everywhere. They'd finally decided if Cassandra learned to walk on
a leash, she would be allowed to go anywhere a dog was permitted.
As if to be perverse, the cat took to the leash without missing a
beat. When not riding on Bobbie Sue's shoulder, the small cat
strode along at her side like a dog at heel. The sight caused
smiles throughout the town.

Claire reached over to lift the basket she'd
just finished packing, but Race jumped forward and snatched it
first. His body bumped against hers, knocking her off balance.

She stumbled backward. Juggling the heavy
basket with one hand, he wrapped his free arm around her waist.
"Gotcha!" he cried triumphantly.

The sudden motioned jarred her. A twinge in
her side made her catch her breath. She looked up and her gaze
locked with his. Pain was forgotten as she saw the naked longing in
his eyes. Passion flared. "Race?" The one word asked a myriad of
questions? Can we make it? Do you trust me? Will you ever love
me?

The feel of Claire pressed against his side
sent a shaft of yearning through Race. Like a man dying of thirst
he drank her in: the brush of her hair against his cheek, the feel
of her soft breasts and firm, well-rounded belly pushing into him,
the smell of her, a mingling of herbal shampoo, fried chicken and
fruit salad. He wanted her in his arms, in his bed, in his
life.

From the look in her eyes he knew how little
he would have to give to keep her. His mouth went dry.

He swallowed and blurted out, "Claire,
there's something you need to know – I need to tell you. The bonus
money – I gave it to Banner. That's why he agreed to sign the
adoption papers. In two weeks I'll lose the ranch. And there's no
money for the marriage settlement." Unable to face the
disappointment in her eyes he turned away.

She cupped his cheek in her palm and turned
his face to hers. "The money doesn't matter. It never did. You did
what you thought was right. And who knows we might still win the
Baby Race."

"And if we don't?"

"There are more important things in life than
money."

He couldn't bring himself to say the words
she wanted - needed to hear. He couldn't promise her forever. He
couldn't promise her trust. And he wouldn't promise her love. "We
can make a good life together. One based on mutual respect and our
baby, but I can't offer you more. I'm not capable of more."

Still, when hope faded from her eyes and she
let her hand drop he felt abandoned.

Without looking at him, she straightened her
maternity top, smoothed back her hair and strode out of the kitchen
without a word.

Excited about the Memorial Day picnic, Bobbie
Sue chattered on, not seeming to notice how quiet Race and Claire
were during the ride to town. Once the truck was parked, Bobbie Sue
and Cassandra ran off to find Rachel. Race carried the basket to an
empty table and quickly vanished, as well.

Again the town square bustled with activity.
In honor of the holiday, red, white and blue banners draped the
gazebo where the high school band played. Tables and blankets
loaded with food littered the green. She breathed in the aroma of
hotdogs and grilled onions wafting through the air from the small
concession stand set up for those who preferred not to pack a
picnic lunch. People milled around, talking and laughing, pleased
by the mild, dry weather, glad to begin the summer season early
after a cold, snowy winter.

While spreading out their picnic, she waved
and smiled at all the people she'd come to know and love over the
last few years. Of the several hundred people that crowded the
square Claire could at least name all but a few. The feeling of
being part of a community, an extended family, of being home
wrapped like a cozy afghan around her battered heart. Could she
accept the little Race offered? No, without his love part of her
would wither and die. The thought that soon she be losing what
she'd barely found left her chilled.

When a strange couple wandered into her line
of vision, she distracted herself by studying them. A tall blond
man with a shaggy beard and bronzed tan walked by with his arm
around the shoulders of a small dark haired woman carrying an
infant wrapped in a hand-woven, multi-colored sling on her hip. The
woman looked up and said something. The man bent his head toward
the baby and laughed.

The love in their eyes as they looked at each
other and the baby tore at Claire's heart. Unconsciously she rested
her hand over her belly. Would she ever have what these two people
obviously shared? Tears blurred her vision as they rounded a corner
and disappeared from view.

"Hey, none of that now!" Lizzie popped up
next to Claire.

"Where's Colin?" Claire asked.

Lizzie waved her hand toward the concession
stand. "Getting something to eat. Guess my charcoal chicken didn't
appeal to him." She grinned. "A cook I'm not."

"I made more than enough to share."

"Hey, Colin! Get over here!" Lizzie yelled
over the din. "Claire's taking pity on us."

A big smile split Colin's face as he came
over to Claire's table. He gave her a hug and plopped himself down
on the bench. "You've a lifesaver. I wasn't looking forward to
eating the petrified hot dogs and stale chips the Chamber of
Commerce dishes out."

Claire laughed and set out plates for Colin
and Lizzie.

"They're not that bad. You should know,
you're on the chamber's food committee."

Race's voice from behind startled Claire. She
jumped and the spoonful of potato salad she was getting ready to
put on Colin's plate tipped into his lap.

Without missing a beat he reached down and
scooped it up off his jeans onto his plate. "Just because I
approved the budget doesn't mean I want to eat what we buy with it.
This is much better. Yum." He licked the creamy goo off his
fingers.

Lizzie swatted his hand. "Ugh. Gross. Who
knows where those fingers have been. Were did you learn your table
manners? A barn?"

"Nope. A construction site. After you learn
to eat things flavored with concrete dust, what's a bit of denim?
Here, give it a taste." He wrapped his arm around Lizzie's waist,
pulled her close and planted his mouth over hers.

Ever aware of Race at her back, Claire
watched Colin and Lizzie's playful interaction. With love and trust
they'd found their way past the problems of their early
relationship and Grandmere's Baby Race. If only she and Race could
do the same.

Afraid she might be asked the sex of her baby
in turn, Claire hadn't asked Lizzie what the result of her
ultrasound was, but apparently they were content.

After a mumbled protest, Lizzie gave herself
over to Colin's kiss. He splayed his hand over her belly.

"Oh!" Lizzie jerked away. Her eyes flew open
and her hands covered his. "Oh my," she repeated, her gaze dropping
to the puddle spreading at her feet. "My water broke."

"But you're not due for another week." Colin
went pale

Lizzie laughed and patted her belly. "Tell
that to junior here."

Junior. A boy. The first-born great-grandson.
Race's heart sank. "Congratulations, Colin. Looks like you're going
to win Grandmere's Baby Race." He hadn't realized how much he was
hoping to win the race. If he'd won he might have been able to
convince Claire to stay.

"To hell with the blasted race. Elizabeth's
having a baby. We're having a baby. I've got to get the car. No, I
can't leave her alone." Colin pulled out his keys, shoved them at
Race and scooped Lizzie into his arms. "You drive."

"Put me down, you oaf. I can walk." She
wiggled out of his arms. "This baby's not coming in the next ten
minutes."

"Sit down," Race said. "I'll get your car.
Claire, could you find Doc Burton. I saw him over by the bandstand
a little while ago. He can meet us at the hospital." When she
didn't answer he turned. "Claire?"

White-faced, she sat hunched over on the
bench clutching her stomach. "What's wrong?"

She looked up at him and tried to smile, but
grimaced in pain instead. "I think little Whosit wants to keep up
with his cousin."

He knelt next to her and asked, "Is this time
for real?"

"Oh, yes."

She didn't object when he picked her up.

"Looks like you're still in the running,
Cuz." Colin wrapped his arm around Lizzie's waist. "We'll take my
Lincoln. It'll be more comfortable than your truck. Let's go."

Everyone in the square stopped and watched as
the four of them headed toward Colin's car.

Jackson and Cindy came running.

"What about Bobbie Sue?" Claire twisted in
Race's arms, her gaze scanning the crowded square.

"Don't worry. We'll take her home with us,"
Jackson reassured them.

Cindy patted Claire's arm. "You just
concentrate on having your baby."

Race looked at the two people who had worked
for so long without thanks to keep him from destroying himself.
Since he'd first arrived on their doorstep, a sullen, angry
sixteen-year-old, he'd given them nothing back for their efforts.
They never asked for anything, but Race knew what they
deserved.

"Thanks." Race hesitated for a moment then
added, "Dad. Mom."

Never before had Race referred to Cindy and
Jackson as mom and dad. Now with his own child about to be born, he
suddenly understood the power wielded by those two small words. And
with them, he expressed what he'd always found difficult to say –
his love and gratitude.

Cindy smiled and dabbed unashamedly at the
tears in her eyes. "I'll stop at your house, pick up Claire's bag
and bring it to the hospital."

At Colin's car Jackson laid his hand on
Race's shoulder. "Good luck - son. If you need anything, just call.
We're here for you." Jackson's voice sounded husky and his eyes
looked suspiciously moist.

"I know, Dad." With each use the word slid
easier off his tongue.

While Colin helped Lizzie into the front seat
of the car then climbed behind the wheel, Race settled Claire in
the backseat.

The drive to the hospital, located on the
outskirts of town, took only fifteen minutes. But they were the
longest fifteen minutes of Race's life.

While between contractions Lizzie chatted
cheerfully with Colin, Claire sat silent, her face pinched and
white with pain.

"Something's not right," she whispered
through clenched teeth.

He barely noticed the pain of her fingernails
digging into his arm as she struggled through a contraction.

At the hospital, the nurse took one look at
Claire and whisked her away in a wheelchair. When he tried to
follow, another hatchet-faced nurse shoved a ton of forms at him.
His heart and mind with Claire, he signed them, not knowing or
caring what they were.

Finally, the nurse relented and led him to
the delivery room.

Though papered with cheery floral wallpaper,
nothing could disguise the room's medicinal air. Dressed in a
hospital gown, Claire lay propped up on the gurney. Connected to
her by wires and tubes, several ominous looking machines clicked,
whirred and beeped. Clumps of limp hair clung to her pale cheeks.
She smiled faintly and held out her hand to him.

Careful not to disturb the IV hooked to the
back of her hand, Race folded his fingers around hers. "How are you
feeling? Has Doc been in to see you yet? Why isn't anyone
here?"

"Not so good. Yes. And they'll be right
back." She answered his questions in order. "Doctor Burton says
Whosit is being difficult. Must take after his father. Whosit is
trying to be born backwards. Feet first."

Fear clutched Race's heart. A breech birth.
Images of Melody lying cold and still amid blood-soaked straw
flashed through his mind.

"What are they waiting for?"

"They want to give Whosit some time to see if
he'll cooperate and move into position. If not, then they'll do a
caesarean."

Her calm acceptance did little to relieve his
growing anxiety.

The next few hours dragged by with agonizing
slowness as the doctor and nurses bustled in and out constantly
checking Claire and the monitors. Machines whirred, clicked and
beeped steadily. Despite the doctor's assurances that things would
be fine and nurse's efforts to get him to take a break, Race
refused to budge from Claire's side. Even when the contractions
stopped, he waited, afraid if he left she'd be gone before he could
get back.

He couldn't lose her. Without her, life
stretched ahead of him bleak and empty.

"Race, i-if anything happens to me, take care
of Bobbie Sue and little Whosit." Claire's grip tightened until his
fingers went numb.

"Nothing is going to happen to you."

She smiled. "I know, but if it does I want
you to know I trust you to take care of them. And I need you to
know I love you."

Trust and love, the two things in life Race
never believed existed stared out at him from Claire's eyes.

"In spite of everything?