The Texan's Convenient Marriage. Peggy Moreland

her, in hopes of buying Ty’s way out of yet another paternity suit, if that’s what she’d had in mind. But after finding her lying on the floor already in labor, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to broach the subject. How could he, when she was worried sick she might lose her baby?

      But he had to do something, he told himself. He couldn’t just leave her hanging out there alone. She’d seemed like a nice person, nothing at all like the other women Ty associated with, who had greedily snatched up the money he had offered them. Yet, what options did Mack have other than to offer her money? He sure as hell couldn’t force Ty to do the honorable thing and marry the woman and give the baby his name. Even if he could, he certainly wouldn’t be doing Addy any favors, saddling her with a man like Ty.

      His cell phone rang, and he quickly plucked it from the console, where he’d laid it, and flipped it open. “Mack,” he said.

      “This is Marjorie Johnson. The nurse from the Emergency Room?”

      He tensed at the hesitancy in the woman’s voice, knowing the call had to be about Addy. “Has something happened to Addy?”

      “Her labor started again. The doctor says he can’t stop it this time. I wanted to stay with her, but I’m on duty and don’t get off for another five hours.”

      He glanced at the illuminated clock on the dash and quickly calculated the time. “I can be there in less than two.”

      “Oh, thank you,” she said in relief, then added in a rush, “But please don’t tell her that I called. When I suggested it, she insisted that I not bother you. Said you’d done enough for her already.”

      He saw an exit sign up ahead, and took it.

      “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

      Mack headed straight for Labor and Delivery and the room number the attendant at the information desk had given him.

      The room he entered was larger than the tiny cubicle he’d left her in during her stay in the ER. There was also more equipment on hand, all of which was humming and blinking, busily monitoring her vital signs as well as those of her baby.

      She lay facing the dark window, her back to him. From his vantage point, if he hadn’t known better, he would never have suspected she was pregnant. Her shoulders and hips appeared slim beneath the bedcovers, her waist a shallow dip between the two.

      He thought for a moment that she was asleep, then heard a low groan and watched as her fingers curled around the edge of the mattress. He waited until they slowly relaxed, then said quietly, “Addy?”

      She glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes widened in surprise. Shifting awkwardly to her back, she stretched out a hand. “Mack.”

      Her voice was no more than a whisper, but the relief in it resonated through him and settled somewhere near his heart. He crossed to the bed and gripped her hand within his.

      “I thought you were going home,” she said.

      “I was,” he admitted, then shrugged. “Decided I didn’t want to miss the birthday party.”

      She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Did Marjorie call you?”

      Mindful of his promise, he avoided her question by asking one of his own. “How are you doing?”

      “Okay, I guess.” Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head. “I’m scared, Mack. More scared than I’ve ever been in my life.”

      He chafed her hand between his. “Everything’s going to be all right.” He tipped his head toward the row of equipment and teased her with a smile. “Hell, there’s enough technology in this room to send a man to the moon and back. Getting a baby here safely ought to be a snap.”

      She glanced toward the machines and winced. “It does seem a bit much, doesn’t it?”

      “What I want to know is, do all patients get this kind of preferential treatment or is it reserved for hospital employees?”

      She laughed softly. “Since I’ve never been a patient, I wouldn’t know.”

      She opened her mouth to say something more, then slammed her eyes shut and emitted a low groan.

      He tightened his fingers around hers. “Another pain?”

      Her teeth gritted, she nodded.

      He racked his brain, trying to remember the techniques he’d learned in the Lamaze classes he’d attended with his wife. “Look at me,” he ordered.

      She opened her eyes and fixed them on his.

      “Breathe slowly,” he instructed. “Work with the pain, not against it.”

      He kept his gaze on hers while she hauled in a deep breath, released it, drew in another. Unconsciously he matched his breathing to hers, while he waited for the pain to pass. After what seemed like hours, her grip on his hand slowly relaxed and she released a long shuddery breath.

      “Better?” he asked.

      She wet her lips, nodded. “They’re coming faster now. Harder.”

      He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re doing just fine. A couple more like that one, and I’ll bet that baby will be here in no time.”

      “I’m going to hold you to—”

      Her eyes went wide, her body rigid.

      Without thinking, he laid a hand on her stomach and felt the tautness beneath his palm and knew she was already having another contraction. “Relax,” he soothed, and began stroking his palm over her stomach.

      Eyes wild, she fought him, struggling to escape his hold on her, as well as the pain.

      He clamped down hard on her hand, refusing to let go. “Look at me, Addy,” he ordered sternly. “Focus. We can do this.”

      She shook her head wildly. “Maybe you can, but I can’t. It hurts!”

      “It won’t last forever.” He increased the pressure on her hand. “Come on, Addy. Look at me. Focus.”

      She opened her eyes and bared her teeth. “I hate you,” she snarled. “You’re mean and hateful and I wish you’d get the hell out of here and leave me alone.”

      Mack ignored her, knowing it was the pain talking. His wife had hurled similar accusations at him—and worse—while giving birth.

      “Hate me all you want,” he told her, “but I’m staying. We’re going to get through this. Together. Now breathe.”

      She tried to wrench her hand away, then jackknifed to a sitting position, her eyes wide, her fingers clamped around his hard enough to crush bone. “It’s coming!” she screamed. “Oh, God, get the nurse. The baby’s coming!”

      Mack grabbed the remote control clipped to the bed rail and punched the call button. Within seconds the door opened and a nurse strode into the room. She took one look at Addy’s face and shouldered Mack aside, taking his place beside the bed.

      “How far apart are the contractions?” she asked, as she checked Addy’s pulse.

      Mack dragged a shaky hand down his face, more than happy to relinquish control to the nurse. “Less than a minute.”

      The door opened again and a doctor sauntered in. “How’s my favorite patient?”

      Mack burned him with a look. “How do you think?” he snapped impatiently. “She’s hurting like hell and needs something for the pain.”

      “No!” Addy cried and fell back against the pillows, holding her hands protectively over her stomach. “No drugs. I’m doing this naturally.”

      The doctor looked at Mac and shrugged as if to say “you heard the woman,” then stepped to the end of the bed and lifted the sheet to visibly check her progress.

      “The