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Gracie House, and the whole estate, was one of the few places she actually felt safe. And knowing that Alyssa was with Rafe didn’t bother her as much as it might have at one time because Gracie House was home. Even though she didn’t live in it now, the safety she’d felt when she had still seeped in. It was always good to come back. Although, in reality, she still lived on the property, not even half a mile away. “Well, since she’s having a good time and I don’t want to take that away from her, I suppose I could come back for her later on. Or maybe Rafe could drop her by the house when they’ve finished.”
“Or, you could relax and have tea with me. And I’ll promise not to be too grumpy while we wait.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather take a nap? You’re about to give up any hope of sleeping for the next few months.”
“Except I’ve got Rafe. Half the sleep deprivation is going to be his, since this is his endeavor, too.” She patted her belly. Grimaced yet again, this time reaching around to massage the small of her back.
“You’re lucky. I spent my first few months learning to sleep anywhere, any time I could.” Because she hadn’t had a husband who would help. In fact, the couple of times when she’d asked for it, he’d either stormed out, which had been preferable, or he’d—
“You did it alone?” Edie cut in, interrupting Summer’s thoughts.
Summer nodded. Didn’t volunteer any more information.
“I guess I didn’t know that. For some reason, I thought you were still married when Alyssa was born.”
“In name,” she said, wishing the topic had never come up. She didn’t talk about it. Not to anyone. Not ever. Oh, Grace had known how bad her marriage had been, but that was different. And while she trusted Edie, silence on the topic of her marriage was still the best thing. Battered wives didn’t make for great conversation. In fact, the topic had a way of stopping the conversation cold. “Look, I’m going to go make us that pot of tea. Think happy baby thoughts or take a nap … I’ll be back in a minute.” With that, she practically jumped off the chair and sprinted to the kitchen, only too glad to get away from the subject.
Slumping against the fridge for support, with the one and only purpose of steadying her nerves, Summer shut her eyes, drew in a deep breath … New direction. New life. That’s what she had to keep telling herself.
“You OK, Summer?” Myra Murdock, the Corbett housekeeper, asked.
“Fighting off a headache,” Summer lied, pushing herself away from the fridge. “Um … what kind of tea does Edie prefer?”
“These days it’s green because it’s a little lower in caffeine. One cup a day is all she gets, though.” Myra pointed to a tin on the counter top. “She likes it with cream. Oh, and help yourself to anything you want. There’s a tea caddy in the pantry … the Ceylon is my favorite.”
“Ceylon,” Summer repeated, as her pulse finally settled down to a normal rhythm.
“Could I ask you for a favor, Summer?” Myra continued. “Since you’re going to be staying for tea, would you mind looking after Edie while I run to the post office to mail a package to my granddaughter? Her birthday’s next week. I was going to wait until Rafe came back to the house, but if I hurry, the package may still go out today.”
“Go,” Summer said. “And don’t rush. As often as you’ve watched Alyssa for me, it’s the least I can do.”
Tea made, Summer carried it back to the living room, where Edie was trying to readjust her back pillow. “Can’t get comfortable,” she said, clearly agitated. “No matter which way I turn it, I still get back spasms …”
“Back spasms?” Summer asked, setting down the tea tray. “How long have you been getting them?”
“Most of the day. They’re not bad. Just annoying, because every time I get comfortable, I have another one.” Edie flinched. “Just like that.”
“When Rafe went down to the paddock with the girls, did he know you were having back spasms?” She pulled her cellphone from her pocket.
“I didn’t tell him. He’s been saint with me, and I’ve been complaining about so many things lately, I thought he needed the time away. And like I said, they’re more an annoyance than anything else.”
Summer glanced at her watch, then punched in a number, waited for a ring, and heard it coming from the table next to the front door. Rafe had left his phone behind. “Well, ready or not, I think you’re going to have a baby in a little while,” she said, punching in another number. “You’re probably having back labor,” she said, as the ringer on the other end kicked in.
“It’s only little twinges.” Edie protested. “Labor’s supposed to be … painful. These are just …” Another twinge hit, and she readjusted herself on the sofa. “It really couldn’t be labor, could it?” she said a moment later.
“Well, I’ve been timing your twinges, and they’re coming pretty regularly, and less than a minute apart,” Summer said. “Hey, Rick,” she said when he picked up on the other end. “I’m at Gracie House. Edie’s contractions are less than a minute apart, Rafe’s down at the paddock with the girls … Oh, and his phone is here. So, is Jess still there? I saw him heading down the hall on my way out earlier.”
“He’s on duty at the firehouse,” Rick said. “And we got word they’re out on a run, about halfway over to Jasper. Car wreck, minor injuries.”
Now she was getting concerned. “And the ambulance is tied up at the wreck?”
“On its way back in with a patient.”
“Well, I don’t think I can get Edie into my car …” She glanced down at Edie, who was already well into another of her “twinges”. “So, with the rate she’s speeding up here, and given the fact that this has been in progress for several hours now, this could be a home birth. And unless I miss my guess, she’s ready to push.” “Ever done a home birth?”
“No, but I assisted in a few births when I was a student, and did one on my own. One, Rick. That’s all.” She desperately wished Rick was there. Or Rafe. Or Jess. Truth was, in trying to keep up a calm facade for Edie’s sake, she was turning into a quivering heap of nerves inside. Delivering babies wasn’t her thing. She loved taking care of them, but had never really gained much experience helping them into the world. Other than that one delivery done as a nurse, and having Alyssa, she was totally inexperienced in this.
“Um, Summer …” Edie said. “I think maybe you’re right about me needing to push. I’m beginning to feel a lot of pressure …” This time the grimace came with a groan.
Well, this was going to be her third time. So, what was it they said about the third time being a charm? She was keeping her fingers crossed that would be the case. “Look, Rick, I need to go find some towels …” She turned away from Edie. “Real fast,” she whispered. “Edie’s labor has done a major acceleration, and this baby is fighting to get out. As in right now!”
“Towels are in the laundry room, off the kitchen,” Edie panted.
She turned around, nodded at Edie, then broke into a dead run, talking to Rick on the way. “So I need someone here as fast as you can get them. Someone more experienced at this than I am. And see if you can find someone to go get Rafe. He should be here for this, too. Oh, and don’t hang up on me, Rick,” she said, grabbing an armload of freshly laundered towels and running back to Edie. “I need someone to talk me through it. The last time I even went near a birthing, other than Alyssa, was ten years ago.”
“Ten years? Then you should be good to go,” he teased.
“Easy for you to say,” she quipped, then dropped the load of towels down next to Edie.
Edie began to pant. “Are we going to do this right …?” Another twinge, this time much harder than the others.
“Rick is sending help,” Summer said, then clicked the phone over to speaker and set it aside. “In the meantime, I need to take a look to see what’s going on. So if you don’t mind …”
Edie not only didn’t mind, she squirmed herself into the position as fast as she could.
“Help is on the way,” Rick’s voice cracked out on the wobbly phone connection. “Ten minutes … sooner … I’ll be …”
Rick was coming? Was that what he was trying to tell her? Somehow, Summer felt better already. “OK, Edie,” she said, removing the shade from the lamp sitting on the table next to the sofa. “Let’s see what’s happening.”
One look told her everything. Edie was fully dilated. Ready to crown. And one feel to Edie’s abdomen confirmed it all. “So, are you ready to be a mother?” she asked. “Because we’ve got a little work to do now.” Summer had to remember that even though Edie held an important position at the hospital, she wasn’t considered medical staff and hadn’t had medical training outside some basic first-aid skills. Her position, as Child Life Specialist, was more about stepping in as the go-between, the person who helped the child through the whole hospital experience, explained the procedures in the way a child could understand them. “I know you feel like pushing, and we’ll get to that in just a minute. But I’d like to wait as long as we can, since …”
“No waiting,” Edie gasped, grabbing the edge of the couch so hard her knuckles went white. “I want this baby born. now!”
“Let me see what I can do.” Summer felt Edie’s abdomen again, while the next contraction hit, trying to discern the baby’s position. “OK, I think your Mary Grace is as impatient as you are, because she’s not waiting.” Although Summer wanted to wait for Rick, for Rafe, for anybody.
“So give the ladies what they want,” Rick said from the phone, sounding almost breathless.
He was on his way. Running, she thought. She knew it. More than that, she felt it. Somehow, that made everything feel better, feel right. Rick being on the other end of the phone that was the only reason she was getting through this and appearing reasonably steady. “I think I will. So, let’s get you in a little better position. Try sitting up as much as you can. Then draw your knees up. And … I see her! I see your daughter, Edie. At least the top of her. Which means, on your next contraction, go ahead and push.”
Edie struggled into place, with Summer’s help. Then, winded, she laid her head back on a cushion and shut her eyes for a moment. “Remind me to renew my gym membership. I didn’t know I was so out of shape.”
“Neither did I when I went through this,” Summer said, as she placed a few extra pillows behind Edie’s back. “And let me warn you, while it’s a beautiful thing, and I’d do it all over again, several more times actually, afterwards I ached for days in places I didn’t know could ache. But it’s worth it.”
“Just get her out,” Edie begged. “Just, please, get her out of me!”
Summer took a quick pulse, wishing she had something to monitor fetal progress. So far, this process had taken mere minutes … minutes that seemed like hours. “Rick, I’m going to attempt to lift the baby’s head. Anything you want to tell me?”
“Um … good luck?”
Summer laughed. “And for that you got your medical degree?”
“Are you two …?” Edie began, then another contraction hit, and this time she pushed hard. The baby progressed, but not all the way, and Edie fell back into the pillows.
“Next time,” Summer said, taking a second to unclench her clenched muscles. “A couple?” Edie managed. “What?”
“Are you and Rick together? You seem so in tune … Oh, oh …” Another contraction hit, and at that exact moment the front door finally, literally burst open, Edie screamed the scream of her life, and Mary Grace Corbett made her entry into the world in one grand whoosh.
“She’s beautiful,” Summer gasped. “Ten fingers, ten toes …” Then she handed Rafe’s daughter over to Rafe, who was standing shoulder to shoulder with Rick, and collapsed on the floor, a bundle of nerves, a flood of happy tears. With some very gentle arms wrapped around her.
“You did it,” Rick said, holding onto her, rocking her like she was a child to be protected. “Summer, you did it all by yourself!”
She glanced up at Mary Grace as the next wave of medical workers hurried in to whisk mother and daughter off to the hospital. “I did,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Laying her head against Rick’s chest, glad to be there, glad for the support, she drew in a deep breath. Smiled. This was a nice place to be. All of it. Everything. A very nice place to be.
CHAPTER THREE
“SHE’S beautiful,” Summer murmured, looking through the nursery window at Mary Grace, who was swaddled in a pink baby blanket and sleeping peacefully. The nostalgia was overwhelming Summer. She truly had never thought about having another baby, but looking at the one she’d helped into the world was doubling her maternal instincts. Another baby girl, or a boy, for her to hold in her arms would be wonderful. A perfect dream. Maybe someday … If, and only if, her life ever got straightened out.
“For someone who’s delivered only one baby by herself, you did a good job,” Rick said. “Actually, you did a great job. You’ve got exceptional instincts, picking up on Edie’s labor when Edie didn’t even know she was in labor, let alone how far along into it she was.”
“Labor is different for everybody. If you’re expecting pain, and you don’t get it, I can see how you wouldn’t recognize what those little twinges were, like Edie was having.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you were there, and did see the situation for what it was.”
Summer turned around, with her back to the glass, and leaned. Felt exhausted, which didn’t matter. Looked a mess, which did, because she didn’t want Rick seeing her like this. Sure, they’d logged time together in the stables, grooming horses, cleaning up messes. But that was different. They’d been in it together. He’d looked as bad as she did. Here, though … she really wanted to look better. Probably her new position as Nursing Supervisor in Pediatrics finally making its mark. “You know what? I need to go home, clean up … spend some time with Alyssa. She wants to hear all about the baby, and I promised her we’d make spaghetti for dinner. So I have to run to the grocery store to pick up a few things for the sauce.”
“Home-made sauce?” Rick asked, his eyes widening. “You can make that? The only sauce we ever get comes from a jar. You know, open it up, heat it in the microwave.”
Summer laughed. “Well, there’s that. And there’s the real thing. You know, chopped vegetables, cook down the tomatoes, add lots of garlic, mushrooms, peppers … My grandmother was Italian and she would have fainted at the sight of commercially prepared sauce.”
“I don’t suppose you make your own pasta, do you?”
She nodded. “It’s easy. Even Alyssa knows how to make pasta.”
“And now you’re putting me to shame,” Rick confessed, “because I can’t cook if it doesn’t come already prepared, in some sort of package. If it weren’t for Mrs. Jenkins, I don’t think Chris would even know that food can be made from scratch at home. And even then, she’s not a great cook. Sticks to basics, but not a master chef by any means.”
“Well, I don’t suppose Alyssa even knows you can have spaghetti sauce from a jar, or pasta from a box. But, then, I don’t go out a lot, so that gives me more time to cook. In a way, it keeps me connected to my grandmother.”
“She’s gone now?”
Summer nodded. “I’m the only one left, except Alyssa.”
“No aunts or uncles or cousins?” “Too distant to count. Anyway …” She pushed herself off the glass wall, took one final look at the baby, then headed down the hall. Halfway to the door leading to the main foyer she turned back to Rick. “Bring the wine for us. Nothing fancy. And something without high fructose corn syrup or artificial sweetener for the kids.” “For what?” he asked.
“For home-made spaghetti and sauce. If you want to come for dinner.”
OK, so that was probably a huge tactical error, inviting him over for dinner. He was her boss, after all, and fraternizing wasn’t a good idea. But having adult conversation over a meal was something she didn’t get very often. In fact, this would be the first time she’d invited anybody over socially. Of course, if they discussed work, well … that would make it better, or at least seem less personal. She’d drag out her preliminary plans for the day-care center, let the children play together while the adults kicked back, sipped wine and talked about a way to knock out the wall between the storage closet and the waiting area. They’d make it a casual night. Part business, part pleasure.
Suddenly, Summer was excited about the evening ahead. But she wasn’t sure if it was about the prospect of moving forward with her new job, sitting across the dinner table with an adult, or because that adult was Rick Navarro. Whatever the case, she fairly floated through the grocery store, picking up various items for the sauce, almost nervous over the prospect of cooking for a man. The last time she’d done that had been … She had to think about it for a moment. These days, she tried blotting out everything she could about Cameron. Tall, handsome, brutal. Ice for a heart. Oh, she’d cooked for him, cleaned for him, serviced him in bed the way a dutiful wife was supposed to. And she’d worked, too, as the head nurse in a pediatric intensive care unit. None of it had been enough, though. No matter what she’d done, no matter how hard she’d tried, it had never been enough. Men like Cameron couldn’t be pleased. Not even with her culinary skills, which she knew were good.
Well, no more thinking about that. No way she wanted those memories ruining the evening, and they would, if she wasn’t careful. They always did when her resolve wore down and her anxieties reared up. But not tonight. Not when Rick was coming to dinner. But only casually, of course.
“Looks easy enough,” Rick commented, gazing over Summer’s shoulder. He’d watched her though the process of making the pasta, cooking the tomatoes down to a sauce, chopping up the vegetables. He’d even had a hand in chopping the onions, until Summer had called him off because his pieces had been too large. She was very persnickety about those culinary details. Now she was adding green peppers and getting ready to toss in the mushrooms, all in unmistakably smaller pieces than the onions had been until she’d re-chopped them. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do something else … non-vegetable?”
She pointed to the cheese grater sitting on the counter. “Block of Parmesan cheese is in the refrigerator. I like it fresh on the spaghetti, not from a tub or can.” Smiling, she turned to face him. “Do you know how to grate cheese?”
He faked rolling up his sleeves. “Let me at it. I’m the best cheese grater you’ll ever come across in the entire state of New York.”
“I have my doubts,” she teased. “In fact, I’m betting you didn’t even know Parmesan came in a block.”
“Would you be saying that because I botched the onions?” He arched amused eyebrows.
“I’m saying that because you’re a man whose idea of a good meal is opening a can of something, or stopping for take-out on his way home from work.”
He clutched his chest. “You’ve hurt me to the very core.”
“If you’re hurt to the core, it’s because of the food you’ve been eating. But my home-made pasta is guaranteed to cure you … to the very core.”
This conversation was getting dangerously close to turning flirtatious, and she was enjoying it way too much. Meaning it was time to stop, take a deep breath, re-group and come back at it from an entirely different angle. “Look, I think it’s way too quiet in the other room. Maybe you should go check on the kids?” In other words, get him out of sight, but quick, then hopefully he’d be out of mind as well.
Rick gave her a curious look, then backed away.
“Maybe I should.”
In a matter of seconds she was alone in the kitchen, feeling a little weak in the knees.
Which was stupid. But for a minute there she’d started to feel … secure and snug. Part of something she really shouldn’t feel part of. Or maybe the word was happy. In other words, her guard was down, pretty much all the way to the floor. Naturally, it was a mistake she would have to correct, of course, but she enjoyed Rick’s company, his conversation. And living in the moment was nice for a change. Too bad she couldn’t go there again. Or, at least, not as far as she’d almost gone. Her resolve slowly being restored, Summer returned to chopping vegetables.
Rick stood off to the side of the doorway, unseen to Summer yet watching her. Beautiful, confident in her skills, still trying to stay emotionally detached. She was a puzzle for sure, and while she had a right to be any way she wanted, staying detached didn’t suit her. Wasn’t her natural personality. He’d worked with her at the hospital, and also at the Gracie Foundation. He’d seen her when she wasn’t being so careful or guarded, so he knew what was under that restrained exterior. But that exterior was what she wanted people to see, so he’d respect it. What else could he do?
“The kids are fine,” he said, keeping himself well away from her when he finally stepped into the kitchen. “They were playing games, and right now Chris is reading a book to Alyssa. It’s about a little bunny that’s afraid to come out of its bunny house.” Like Summer, who was afraid to come out of herself. When it came right down to it, though, so was he. “And I, um … I want to go back and hear how the story turns out, if you don’t mind.” Let her have her space, which was clearly what she wanted.
“It’s a great ending,” she said, her voice unusually reserved, as if she’d tied up her emotions and put them away for safekeeping. “Go, listen to it.”
What made Summer tick? He wondered about it as he sat down next to Alyssa on the floor to become part of Chris’s audience. In fact, he thought about it so much he missed the ending to the story and had to pick up the book and read it for himself after the kids scampered off to play in the yard. What got the bunny out of the bunny house? It was a simple answer. Someone the bunny trusted.
The thing was, he was pretty sure Summer didn’t trust. Same with him, and he knew that. He also knew he shouldn’t get involved. As in no more ice cream, no more spaghetti. No more thoughts. Now all he had to do was find a way to go against that deeper urge to connect because damn if he didn’t like being with her.
Dinner was casual. They sat on the kitchen floor, balancing plates on their laps. Not because Summer intended to entertain that way, but because the children had ganged up on them about having a picnic. OK, so maybe some people wouldn’t agree that the children should get their way, but this was a simple thing. Since it was drizzling outside, Chris and Alyssa wanted to picnic on the floor, and Rick had jumped right into that line. So they spread out a blanket and picnicked in the kitchen, with salads and bread set out in front of them and precariously perched plates of spaghetti. Had she known this was going to turn into a picnic, she would have made sandwiches. But this was actually nice, and kind of funny, watching Rick trying to juggle his plate and get the spaghetti all the way to his mouth without spilling it.
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