Название | Chance's Joy |
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Автор произведения | Patricia Thayer |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
“Oh, she’s beautiful,” she cried.
“She’s a keeper all right,” Chance agreed as his gaze locked with the mother’s bright blue eyes, then turned his attention to the newborn. Unable to resist, he touched his finger to her soft cheek in wonder over this miracle he’d helped bring into world.
Just then the sound of the ambulance pierced the silence. “Looks like help has arrived.”
“I think my daughter and I had all the help we needed. Thank you.”
Chance realized that the doctor was still on the phone. “Hey, it’s a girl,” he said. “She looks fine. The ambulance just pulled up.”
“Chance, you did a good job. Congratulations.”
“Thanks, doc, for all your help.”
“You’re the one who did all the work. Tell the mother that I’ll be waiting for the two of them at the hospital.”
Chance hung up and smiled. Then the paramedics rushed in, and he stepped aside.
Realizing mother and child didn’t need him anymore, disappointment rushed through him. Well, what did he expect? What decent woman would have anything to do with a Randell? He stiffened and turned and walked out. Besides he didn’t need any strays. The last thing he needed was to get involved with a widowed woman and her kid.
Joy was exhausted, but so happy as she looked down at her new baby daughter, Kathryn Rose.
“Oh, Blake, she’s beautiful,” she whispered. Tears clogged her throat at the thought of her husband. It had been only seven months since his sudden death, and although the shock of his passing had lessened with time, she would always miss him. Blake had been her friend, her family, as she was his. Joy glanced down at Katie Rose again. But she wasn’t alone anymore. Never again was she going to be without family. Mother and daughter had each other now and nothing was going to separate them.
The young, dark-haired paramedic approached the ambulance. “We’ll be transporting you shortly, ma’am,” he said.
“Thank you,” Joy answered.
“I’m not the one you should thank,” the man said. “I’d say the cowboy had everything under control by the time we got here.”
Joy glanced out the open doors of the ambulance, and spotted the big man standing back from the attendants. His hands rested on his lean hips, and she could see the evidence of the ordeal of the birth on his damp T-shirt and jeans. Her gaze rose to the hard planes of his face and his steel-gray eyes, now hidden by a dusty cowboy hat.
She motioned for him to come to the ambulance and watched his slow, deliberate gait as he made his way toward her. Joy smiled to herself, as something told her this cowboy did things his way. A tingle erupted deep in her stomach and a blush spread across her cheeks, as she remembered that just moments ago they’d shared the intimacy of her baby’s birth. She recalled his encouraging words as he helped her through her labor, and the tenderness of his touch as he brought her daughter into the world. She didn’t want to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t shown up.
The cowboy stopped next to the door and removed his hat, revealing the brown-streaked hair Joy had focused on during her pains.
“Looks like you’re all fixed up,” he said, his expression cool. The change in his mood surprised her.
“I’m fine. And my daughter is perfect. I’m sorry that I had to put you through this.”
“No problem, ma’am. Glad I could help.”
“I’m very happy you were here, too. I’ll always be grateful.”
Chance couldn’t stop looking at the pretty woman on the gurney. Her long blond hair was still damp, and little ringlets curled around her face. Her large blue eyes were the color of the bluebonnets that grew wild along the Texas hillsides. Realizing where his thoughts were headed, he quickly glanced away. “Like I said, just being neighborly.”
“So you’re my neighbor?” she asked.
“Out here, we all watch out for one another. It’s a good thing you found the Kirby place. It’s just too bad it was deserted.”
“I was purposely looking for Lillian Kirby’s place.”
An uneasy feeling suddenly washed over Chance. He remembered that the lawyer handling Miss Kirby’s will had said that her nephew was deceased, and they hadn’t been able to locate any other relatives. Surely this couldn’t be another…? He shook away the thought. “I don’t see why, no one has lived here for nearly a year.”
The woman smiled and looked at her baby. “That’s going to change soon.”
Chance froze. What did she mean by that? All of a sudden the paramedic started to close the door. “Wait!” Chance stopped him and glared at the woman. “What do you mean?”
“That just as soon as Katie Rose and I get released from the hospital we’ll be moving in.”
She was going to live here? “Look Mrs.—” He stopped, realizing he didn’t even know her name. “I guess we never got to introductions. I’m Chance Randell from the Circle B.”
She smiled sweetly. “Nice to meet you Mr. Randell. I’m Lil’s great-niece, Joy Kirby Spencer.”
Chance couldn’t say a word as he let go of the doors, and the attendant pulled them shut. He stared after the ambulance as it drove off down the gravel road, watching until the vehicle finally disappeared, along with his dreams.
Chapter Two
Hell, the last time Chance had been in a hospital was when his friend, Huey Johns, had been tossed off a bull at the rodeo. He’d never visited a maternity ward.
Chance got off the elevator that evening with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and his hat in the other, ready to have a little talk with Mrs. Spencer. But when he started past the nursery, he found himself stopping. Just for a quick glance at the kid, he told himself.
He located the clear, plastic crib with Spencer written at the base and was mesmerized by the sleeping baby wrapped in a soft pink blanket. Her tiny fists were clenched, and her little mouth was in a pout, occasionally making a slow sucking motion. A crown of downy hair covered her head, partially hidden by a pink cap.
Chance heard voices behind him and realized he’d been standing there staring like a silly fool. A sudden sadness overtook him as he thought about his solitary life. Here he was, a bachelor who’d never thought much about having his own family. The ranch had kept him busy enough so he didn’t have much time to think about what he didn’t have. Ever since his brothers had left, it had only been him, Hank and Ella. Not that he would mind if his brothers decided to come home.
Chance took one last look at the baby. No, he wouldn’t mind at all. He continued down the hall to handle the business that had brought him here in the first place. Talking one city lady out of a ranch.
At the nurses’ station, he was given the new mother’s room number and quickly found the two-bed room. Joy Spencer was in the first cubicle. He hesitated when he noticed she was asleep, and couldn’t help studying her. Her long blond hair seemed to have a life of its own, the wayward curls framing her oval face. His gaze lowered to the print hospital gown. The petite woman didn’t look like she’d just given birth, he thought, recalling a few hours earlier when he’d shared the experience with her. All at once his throat went bone-dry, and he couldn’t seem to swallow.
Damn! What was he doing, staring at a woman, and a new mother at that? He’d better just leave and come back tomorrow. Looking for a place to put the flowers, Chance tried to lay them down on the table next to the bed, but only managed to knock over a drinking glass. The plastic tumbler bounced twice on the tiled floor before he could retrieve it.
When