The Texan's Convenient Marriage. Peggy Moreland

cleaning up other people’s messes.”

      Two

      Addy thrust her head back against the pillow and clenched her teeth, sure that the pain was going to rip her apart. In spite of her efforts to suppress it, a low animal-like groan slid past her lips, and she began to pant, determined to stay ahead of the pain and not give in to it.

      Busy adjusting an intravenous drip, Marjorie glanced her way. “Bad?”

      Gulping, Addy nodded. “Did you call Dr. Wharton?”

      Satisfied that the fluids were transferring at the proper rate, Marjorie took Addy’s hand and held it between her own. “He’s on his way.”

      Addy gulped again. “He better hurry.”

      Her expression sympathetic, Marjorie stroked Addy’s damp hair back from her face. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you’re a long way from delivering.”

      Groaning, Addy closed her eyes. “I can’t be. The pain is already unbearable.” She opened her eyes and looked at Marjorie, tears blurring her friend’s image. “You’d tell me if something was wrong with the baby, wouldn’t you?”

      “Of course I would,” Marjorie assured her.

      Addy searched her friend’s face, trying to determine if she was telling the truth or just saying that to keep Addy from becoming more upset. Unsure, she looked away. “You should go back down to Emergency. You’re on duty.”

      Marjorie glanced toward the door and worried her lip. “I really should. There was a bus wreck on the interstate. The call came in just before I came up to check on you.”

      Addy pulled her hand from Marjorie’s. “Then go. They need you more than I do.”

      “But I hate leaving you alone,” Marjorie fretted.

      “I’ll be okay. Really.”

      “I’ll call Mack,” Marjorie said, already digging in her pocket for her cell phone. “He gave me his number and said for me to let him know if there was a change in your condition.”

      “No, please,” Addy begged. “He’s done enough for me already. Promise you won’t call him.”

      Marjorie eyed Addy stubbornly for a moment, then sagged her shoulders in defeat. “Oh, all right,” she said, and shoved the phone into her pocket. “I’ll come back and check on you again as soon as I can.”

      “Thanks, Marjorie.”

      Addy waited until the door closed behind her friend, then covered her face with her hands and gave in to the tears that had threatened since her labor had started again. She couldn’t lose her baby, prayed God would keep it safe. She wanted this baby so badly, needed it. In spite of all the sacrifices she would have to make to support and care for it, she wanted this baby to live.

      And while she was praying, she added a thanks for Mack’s unexpected appearance at her house and the steps he’d taken to protect her baby’s life.

      Even as the prayer formed, she lowered her hands from her face and frowned, wondering about Mack and realizing that, although she’d asked him his name, she’d failed to ask him why he’d been at her house.

      There were any number of plausible explanations, she reminded herself. He could be a bill collector or a solicitor. Her frown deepened. But that didn’t make sense, as she didn’t have any outstanding bills and solicitors were prohibited in her neighborhood. She supposed he might have become lost and simply stopped to ask directions, which wasn’t unusual, as her neighborhood was made up of a tangle of streets that baffled even the most gifted map reader.

      Whatever his reason, she thought, dismissing her concerns as unnecessary considering his kindness to her, she wished he was still with her. She knew it was stupid, foolish even, to yearn for someone she didn’t even know. But while he’d been with her, both at her house and in Emergency, she’d felt safe, more in control, better capable of handling the pain, of facing whatever happened. Not so alone.

      She opened her hands to look at them, remembering how sure his grip had felt on hers, how firmly he’d held her hand. How strong he’d seemed, so in control. He didn’t even know her, yet he’d followed the ambulance to the hospital, stayed with her, even offered to call her mother.

      Why couldn’t she have fallen for a guy like Mack? she asked herself miserably. She bet he wouldn’t have stolen from her or lied to her as Ty had done. And he probably wouldn’t have run the way Ty had when she’d told him she was pregnant.

      Gulping back the regret that crowded her throat, she closed her eyes and willed her body to relax and her mind to clear, knowing she had to keep her thoughts focused so that she could deal with the next pain when it came.

      There’d be plenty of time for regrets later.

      A thick band of clouds blocked what light the moon might have offered, leaving the interstate a black ribbon that stretched for miles and miles in the darkness. But Mack didn’t mind the darkness or the lack of traffic he encountered. In fact, he welcomed it. It gave him time to think.

      And Adrianna Rocci—or Addy, as her friend had called her—had given him a lot to think about.

      An unplanned pregnancy. An irresponsible boyfriend. A mother who ranked right up there with Joan Crawford on the nurturing scale. And now her baby’s life was in jeopardy. How much more could the woman take, before she snapped?

      It wasn’t right, he told himself. No one should have to go through something like this alone. She should have a husband or, at the very least, family with her to offer emotional and physical support. Hell, the woman was going to be all but tied to a bed for the next six weeks! Who would take care of her house? Get her mail? Pay her bills? Who would sit with her to help pass the time? Hold her hand when she was scared? Stand at her side during the birth?

      He narrowed his eyes at the dark highway ahead, wishing he could get his hands on Ty. Castration came to mind as sufficient punishment, but even that seemed too kind. Getting a woman pregnant, then abandoning her… It just wasn’t right. Yet that was Ty’s style. Hit and run, love ’em and leave ’em, that was his standard modus operandi. In Mack’s estimation, Ty was immature, irresponsible and a royal pain in the ass. Unfortunately, women seemed to find him irresistible. And why wouldn’t they? he asked himself. Ty was a good-looking man, smooth talking, fun loving. It was in the integrity department that he came up short. Just like his old man.

      Mack scowled at the reminder of his stepfather. Jacob Bodean was nothing but a two-bit con artist out trolling for a free ride, when he’d met Mack’s mother. Recently widowed and still grieving over the loss of her husband, his mother had been an easy mark for a scumball like Jacob. Playing on her weakened emotional state, within two months Jacob had sweet-talked her into marrying him. Another fourteen months and Ty had been born.

      It had taken Mack’s mother six years—and the loss of a large chunk of the fortune Mack’s father had left her—before she’d figured out that Jacob was only interested in her money and was going through it as fast as he could write checks. It had cost her another chunk of money to get rid of him and to win custody of Ty. Mack often wondered if she wouldn’t have been better off washing her hands of them both.

      But Ty is blood, he told himself, as his mother had often reminded him and, like it or not, he was now Mack’s responsibility. On her deathbed, his mother had made him promise that he would look after his half brother. The trust fund she’d set up for Ty prior to her death, naming Mack as executor, had added a legal obligation to the moral one he’d already assumed.

      Both had been stretched mighty thin over the years.

      Mack had bailed Ty out of more trouble than he cared to think about and was sick and damn tired of mopping up a grown man’s messes. For God’s sake, he thought, his anger with his half brother building. Ty was thirty-four years old! It was past time for him to settle down and take care of his own damn mistakes.

      Mack