The Texan's Convenient Marriage. Peggy Moreland

Her cheekbones were high ridges, her neck long and graceful.

      As he stared, trying to remember the color of her eyes, her lashes fluttered up. Brown, he noted. Her eyes were brown.

      She smiled softly and reached for his hand. “I can’t believe you’re really here. I was sure that I had imagined you.”

      Her voice was husky, barely more than a whisper, but he heard the wonder in it. “The nurse said you wanted to see me.”

      She gave his hand a grateful squeeze. “To thank you.” She closed her eyes, gulped. When she opened them again, a single tear slipped from the corner and slid down her temple to disappear into her hair. “I don’t know what would’ve happened to me and my baby if you hadn’t come along when you did.”

      He averted his gaze, unsure what to say. When he glanced back, she was studying him curiously, as if only just now wondering at his identity and why he was at her house.

      “Do I know you?”

      He hesitated a moment, then figured she’d never make the connection. “John McGruder, though most folks call me Mack.”

      “Mack,” she repeated, as if testing the sound of the name, then smiled. “That’s a good, strong name. It suits you.”

      Before he could think of a response, her eyes slammed shut and she arched up high off the bed, her fingers digging into the mattress.

      Panicking, he glanced around for a call button. “Should I get the nurse?”

      She released a long breath, then opened her eyes and forced a reassuring smile. “No. I’m okay. The doctor was able to stop the labor, but he said I should expect a few more pains.”

      He blew out a long breath of his own, relieved that it hadn’t lasted any longer than it had. “Does that mean you get to go home?”

      “No. In fact, an orderly is on his way right now to take me up to Labor and Delivery.”

      “But I thought you said the doctor was able to stop your labor?”

      “He was…for the time being. But I have to stay in the hospital. They need to be able to monitor the baby’s vital signs, plus keep me off my feet.”

      “How long will you have to stay?”

      She lifted a shoulder. “Until the baby’s born. My actual due date isn’t until July 15, but Dr. Wharton says he doubts I’ll make it that long.”

      He did the math in his head and shuddered, knowing he’d go nuts if he had to stay in a hospital bed for six weeks. “Is there anyone I can call for you? Family you want notified?”

      She shook her head. “The only family I have is my mother, and she lives in Hawaii.”

      He pulled a pen from his pocket. “Give me her number, and I’ll give her a call. She’ll probably want to catch the next plane out.”

      “You’re sweet to offer, but it isn’t necessary. She wasn’t planning on coming for the baby’s birth. Me going into labor early won’t change her mind.”

      He pressed the pen against the paper. “Why don’t you let her decide that?”

      She hesitated a moment, then sighed. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to let her know what’s going on. Her name is Mary Claire Sullivan and her number is—”

      Mack jotted down the number she rattled off, then slipped the paper and pen back into his pocket. He glanced uncertainly around. “Well, I guess I better get out of here before they run me off. Is there anything I can get for you before I leave?”

      She lifted a brow. “About six more weeks of pregnancy?” Smiling, she flapped a hand. “Just kidding. I’ll be fine.”

      He shifted uneasily from foot to foot, anxious to go, but reluctant to leave her alone. “You take care of yourself, okay?”

      She reached for his hand and gave it another grateful squeeze. “Thanks, Mack. For everything. I owe you one.”

      As Mack stepped through the Emergency Room doors, he pulled his cell phone from the holster clipped at his waist and punched in the number Addy had given him, wanting to make the call to her mother before he hit the road.

      When a woman answered, he asked, “Is this Mary Claire Sullivan?”

      “Who wants to know?”

      Mack scowled at the woman’s suspicious tone.

      “Mack McGruder. I’m calling for your daughter. Addy,” he added, thinking she might have more than one. “She went into labor earlier this evening and was rushed to the hospital. The doctor was able to stop the labor, but she’s going to have to remain in the hospital until the baby is born.”

      “Are you the one who got her pregnant?”

      Startled by the unexpected question, he gaped, then scowled again. “No. I’m just passing on information. Figured you’d want to make arrangements to come and stay with her.”

      “If she thinks I’m going to fly all the way to Dallas to hold her hand, she’s got another think coming! Nobody sat by my side while I was giving birth to her. No siree. I sweated out twelve hours of labor all by myself. Twelve long hours,” she added. “And even if I wanted to come, which I don’t, I’ve got a husband to see after. I can’t go flying off and leave him to fend for himself. You tell Addy that she’s the one who got herself into this mess, and she’ll have to see it to its end. I’ve got troubles enough of my own to deal with, without taking on hers.”

      Stunned, Mack stood slack-jawed. How could a mother be so callous about her own child? So uncaring? “If it’s the cost you’re worried about, I’ll arrange for your flight.”

      “A man who’d offer to do that either has a guilty conscience or money to burn.”

      Mack ground his teeth. “I’m just trying to be helpful. I’d think you’d want to be with your daughter at a time like this.”

      “She got pregnant without my help. She can deliver without it, too.”

      “But she’s your daughter!” he shouted, unable to contain his frustration any longer. “She needs you.”

      “I did my duty by Addy. I raised her, didn’t I? And without any help from the sorry SOB who fathered her.”

      Mack wanted to curse at the woman, strangle something, preferably her. How could anyone, much less a mother, be so cold-blooded?

      “I’m sorry I bothered you,” he muttered, and disconnected the call before he gave in to the urge to tell the woman exactly what he thought of her. Scowling, he stuffed his cell phone back into its holster at his waist, then dragged his hands over his hair. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he glanced over his shoulder at the Emergency Room door and envisioned Addy lying on the gurney, probably worried out of her mind about her baby, and without a soul to lean on for support.

      Dropping his arms, he headed for the parking lot, telling himself it wasn’t his problem. He’d done his duty. He’d called the ambulance for her, made sure that she’d arrived safely at the hospital. He’d even called her mother for her.

      He did an abrupt about-face and marched back to the Emergency entrance. Once inside, he quickly spotted the nurse who had taken him back to see Addy and motioned her toward him.

      “Leaving us?” she asked, smiling.

      “Yes, ma’am. I’ve got a good four-hour drive home.” He fished a business card from his wallet and handed it to her. “I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a call if there’s a change in Addy’s condition. My cell number is there at the bottom. Call day or night. Doesn’t matter. I’ll answer.”

      She hid a smile. “And you claimed you’re not a hero,” she scolded.

      “More like a janitor,” he grumbled, and turned for the door.