Matt had to admit she looked good, despite having given birth only a week earlier. She’d evidently gone to a great deal of trouble with her appearance. Her hair and makeup were done to perfection. She wore tight slacks and a revealing halter top, her breasts almost spilling out.
She must have caught him looking, because she instantly commented. “Nothing fits right anymore.” Cupping the underside of the bra top, she shrugged her shoulders, then jiggled her breasts so they threatened to spill out entirely.
Embarrassed, Matt glanced away and set down the packages. “I brought Hailey a few gifts.”
“How sweet.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
Matt reacted as though she’d burned him.
Sheryl giggled. “No need to be afraid. I promise not to hurt you.”
An immediate argument came to him, but he squelched it. From the moment Sheryl realized he wasn’t going to divorce Margaret and marry her, she’d done everything she could to hurt him. She’d tried to destroy his marriage and his life. If she couldn’t get him back, she was going to make him pay.
“Where’s Hailey?” he asked.
“Asleep.”
“I’d like to see her.”
“Don’t worry, you will,” Sheryl said. She motioned for him to sit. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll get you a drink.”
“I’m here to see my daughter,” he insisted, refusing to take a seat.
“Oh, Matt,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “Am I such a threat? I promise if you sit down I’m not going to pounce on you, although I have to admit the thought is tempting.” She walked over to the liquor cabinet and brought out a bottle of Irish whiskey.
“I said I don’t want a drink.”
She frowned at him over her shoulder. “You might not, but I do. Frankly, I need something to help me relax. I was up half the night with the baby. She’s already showing signs of a temper. Can you imagine? You should see her lower lip quiver when she doesn’t get what she wants.”
Sheryl poured herself a drink, then went into the bedroom.
Matt sank down on the edge of the sofa, but immediately stood as she returned with the baby. His heart pounded so loud, it echoed in his ears. Automatically he held out his arms for his child; Sheryl placed Hailey there, then stepped back as he took his first look at his daughter.
She was a tiny thing, he noted, just like Sheryl had said—so small she almost fit in the palms of his two hands. Her hair was dark and there was a lot of it. She didn’t look like him, but she didn’t resemble Sheryl, either.
“Don’t worry, she isn’t going to break.”
Matt sat down and carefully folded open the blanket, then bent to kiss her forehead.
“You wake her and you get to put her back to sleep,” Sheryl told him, taking a large gulp of her drink.
“I’ll do my best,” he whispered, awed by the strength of his emotions. He’d dreaded this for months and knew now that he had nothing to be afraid of. His daughter was incredible, beautiful, perfect.
“Pretty, isn’t she?” Sheryl asked proudly.
“Beautiful,” Matt whispered, using his index finger to brush a soft wisp of hair from her small face. This was the child who’d caused him such grief, yet all he could feel in that moment was love.
“People say she looks a lot like me.”
He grinned, unwilling to fall into that trap again. “Time will tell.”
Sheryl moved close and perched on the edge of the coffee table across from him. She leaned forward, pretending to study Hailey. Matt knew what she was really doing, and that was offering him a look at her generous breasts. He centered his concentration on his daughter, counting her fingers and toes.
“You want me to open the gifts?” Sheryl asked, gesturing at the bags.
Matt had purposely left them unwrapped. They weren’t gifts for Sheryl. Everything he’d purchased was for Hailey. “Margaret and I picked up a few things we thought you’d need.”
“How nice,” she responded, but sounded more perturbed than grateful.
Enthralled as he was with Hailey, Matt didn’t watch as Sheryl inspected the baby outfits and supplies he’d brought.
“So cute,” Sheryl said.
“She really is, isn’t she?”
“I was talking about this dress,” Sheryl told him.
Matt looked away from the baby. “Margaret picked it out.”
“Margaret, Margaret, Margaret! Is she all you can talk about?”
At Sheryl’s shrill voice, Hailey woke and started to fuss. Matt didn’t know much about babies, but he gently bounced her in his arms. That didn’t seem to help, so he placed her ever so carefully on his shoulder and patted her back.
“Answer me, dammit,” Sheryl demanded.
With Hailey wailing in his ear and Sheryl haranguing him, it took Matt a minute to compose himself. “Margaret’s my wife.”
“You’d never have married her if it wasn’t for me,” Sheryl said furiously. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with her, you idiot. Why am I surprised? Why?” She stood and slapped her sides. “That woman’s no woman. I can’t believe you actually fell for her.”
Again Matt resisted correcting her. Insisting that Margaret was more woman than Sheryl could ever be wouldn’t improve the situation. As much as possible, he wanted to keep his relationship with Sheryl neutral, for Hailey’s sake.
“You were supposed to marry me,” Sheryl shouted. “How could you do this?”
The baby wailed louder still, and nothing Matt did seemed to comfort her.
“I’m sorry,” he said in an effort to appease Sheryl.
“Not sorry enough. What’s going to happen to us?” She glared at him, her eyes spitting anger.
“I’ll make regular child support payments and—”
“Not me and the baby,” she interrupted. “You and me! Us.”
“Sheryl,” he said as gently as he could. “There is no us. I’m married to Margaret. All you and I share is Hailey. I was hoping we could both remain adult about this…I realize the situation’s difficult, but—”
“You’re damn straight it is.”
“If you want to blame me, then go ahead. I accept full responsibility…”
“Of course I blame you,” she yelled. “You’re an idiot. Don’t you get it, you could have had me and Margaret’s money? We were good together.”
Matt’s heart sank. Sheryl simply didn’t understand. More than that, she refused to understand. He loved his wife. Marrying Margaret was the smartest thing he’d ever done, and to his dying day, he’d be grateful that she chose to love him.
Sheryl started to sob and covered her face with both hands. “Now look what you’ve done.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“Don’t apologize. You’re worthless, you know. Worthless.”
He stood, still patting the baby’s back. It was time he left. Sheryl was in danger of exploding and his own patience was limited. Visiting his daughter shouldn’t include having insults hurtled at him, and he wondered if this would be the norm. He supposed he should get in touch with his attorney, see what they could figure out. What kind of agreement or—
“Make her stop crying!” Sheryl shouted.
Matt wrapped his arm protectively around the newborn and rocked her from side to side, hoping that would work.
“Shut up!” Sheryl screamed at the baby and placed her hands over her ears. Whirling around, she glared at Matt. “This is all your fault.”
“Fine, it’s my fault, but screaming at a baby isn’t going to help.”
“Get out of here,” she said, pointing at the door. “I want you out of my home.”
He hesitated. Clearly, Sheryl was distraught, but there was little he could do. He carried the baby to the bedroom and lovingly settled her inside the crib. It was hard to turn his back on his daughter, especially when she was crying like this, but he had no choice.
“Get out of my home.” Sheryl had apparently regained some
of her composure. Tears glittered in her eyes, and he could recognize another emotion there, one that sent chills racing down his backbone. Hate.
“Sheryl,” he said, determined to try one last time. “I told you before—and I meant it—if you want to blame me, do. But if the day ever comes when you feel you can’t deal with the stress of the baby, call me. Margaret and I will raise Hailey.”
“Now you want my daughter, too?”
“Only if she becomes too much for you.”
Sheryl crossed her arms and stared at him with hatred gleaming from her eyes. “I’ll rot in hell before I give you my child. Go home to your precious Margaret and may you both get what you so richly deserve.”
Calla paced the waiting area outside the emergency room. She hadn’t seen her mother in over an hour and each attempt to glean information had met with failure. She tried to sit and calm herself, but that didn’t work for more than a few minutes. When she couldn’t stand it any longer she bolted to her feet again and continued to wear a path in the floor.
Worries crowded her mind. With those worries came regrets. The last thing Calla saw before the elevator doors slid shut was the look of pain on her mother’s face, mingled with a terrible fear. Although Calla knew little about pregnancy and birth, she understood that seven and a half months was too early. A premature birth would probably cause complications, especially since the pregnancy had already been difficult.
Before they’d taken her mother away, Calla had spilled out her heart. She hadn’t intended to feel a thing for this baby. Dennis’s baby. But she did. During the time her mother had undergone bed rest, Calla had spent a number of afternoons with her. Sarah had let Calla touch her stomach to feel the baby’s movements. At first she hadn’t been able to detect anything. But later, when she had, she’d felt a sense of genuine excitement.
Just then the hospital door burst open and Dennis rushed inside. He looked like a man possessed as he raced to the admissions desk. “My wife’s here. Her name is Sarah…Sarah Urlacher. She’s having our baby.”
“Just a minute, Mr. Urlacher.”
The receptionist sounded so calm. She turned to her keyboard and typed in the name. “Your wife has been admitted.”
“Can I see her?”
“It says here she’s on the third floor but doesn’t give a room number.”
“I’ll find her.”
Calla didn’t doubt that he would. Unwilling to be left behind, she followed him. Distraught as he was, Dennis didn’t notice her until after he’d hit the elevator button for the second time.
He stared at her, and Calla shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “I drove Mom here.”
He nodded, but said nothing.
When the elevator arrived, they both stepped inside. It rose slowly to the third floor, and when the doors opened, Dennis virtually leaped out and ran to the nurses’ station.
“I’m here to find out about my wife.”
Hospital staff might not give Calla information, but they wouldn’t ignore Dennis.
After asking Dennis a few pertinent questions, the woman glanced at Calla.
“I’m her daughter,” Calla said.
“Mr. Urlacher, your wife’s in surgery.”
“Surgery?” The word exploded from Dennis.
“Dr. Leggatt will explain everything as soon as he’s finished. We have a small waiting area here.” She nodded toward a few chairs grouped around a low table. “It shouldn’t be much longer now.”
Looking defeated and broken, Dennis slumped into a chair and leaned forward, his arms braced against his knees, hands dangling.
Calla found a chair as far away from him as possible. It would have helped had there been other people in the waiting area. There weren’t. Every minute claimed more of Calla’s composure. The longer they were required to wait, the more certain she was that something had gone wrong. She could see Dennis had reached the same conclusion. His face was tortured with the pain of not knowing.
“Can you tell me what happened?” he finally asked, hurling the words as if he couldn’t keep from asking.
“I…Mom phoned, telling me she needed a ride into Grand Forks.”
“She didn’t fall or anything?”
Calla shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“She didn’t mention what brought on labor?”
“No, only that she was afraid of losing the baby.”
At this, Dennis ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled harshly. “Did they tell you why the surgery’s necessary?”
“No.”
He was silent again for several minutes, then started to pace, his movemnnts full of frantic compulsion. Past the table, around the chairs, back to the table, again and again. He didn’t look at Calla and she didn’t look at him. At least she tried not to, but soon found it impossible. Dennis loved her mother, loved his unborn child, too.
“She wanted to wait for you, but the nurse told her to get to the hospital right away,” Calla told him.
Dennis stopped abruptly and glanced at Calla, as though surprised she’d spoken. He swallowed visibly, then said, “I’m thankful you were there.”
Calla nodded, no less thankful.
“I realize there’s no love lost between us,” she said, and heaved in a deep breath, “but I can tell that you care about my mother.”
“She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved.” He sank back into the chair.
“I don’t hate you, you know.”
He raised his head. From the expression on his face, she guessed he was sorely tempted to call her a liar.
“I don’t hate you anymore,” she amended.
Dennis waited for her to continue.
“I’ve been a…a jerk the last couple of years and, well, I guess I wanted my mother to love me more than she did you. What I did was create a tug of war between the two of us.”
“Your mother loves you, Calla.”
“I know, but that wasn’t enough for me. I didn’t want her to love anyone else. I understand now that I was asking the impossible.” She squared her shoulders, and figured this was as good a time as any to make the necessary amends. “I’ve said and done things that I’m not proud of, and I was thinking…hoping…you might be willing to forgive me.”
He studied her as though to gauge her sincerity.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you decided not to, but I’m hoping that’s not the case.” She should’ve known Dennis wouldn’t make this easy, but then why should he? She’d gone out of her way to make his life miserable for a very long time.
“You don’t have to like me,” she whispered.
“Why the change of heart?” he demanded.
“Why?” Calla wasn’t entirely sure when it had come about. Sometime after she’d argued with Dennis. She’d been furious, looking for people to take her side against him. Since then, she’d had long talks with people she respected. Maddy and Jeb were two of the first. Although her aunt and uncle weren’t overtly critical of her, Calla could see they felt she was in the wrong.
Her grandfather and Hassie were more inclined to state their unvarnished opinions, and neither felt any compunction about bruising her ego. Still, Calla had been able to shake off their warnings and admonitions. But Kevin’s letter had reached her in a way no one else could. Although it hadn’t seemed like that at first read, and although he hadn’t said it in so many words, he’d told her to grow up. It was time she made peace with Dennis, his letter said, and the sooner she acknowledged her own contribution to the problems, the sooner she’d have her family back. Despite everything she claimed, Calla had missed her mother. She’d found their estrangement increasingly difficult.
“Why the change of heart?” Dennis repeated.
Calla told him, and when she finished she held out her hand for him to shake. Dennis looked at her and then slowly, cautiously, a smile appeared.
“Just get one thing straight,” Calla said, feeling close to tears. “I’m not calling you dad.”
?
??You don’t have to,” he assured her.
They both stopped talking when Dr. Leggatt approached, his face solemn. Calla and Dennis met him halfway. Calla’s heart thudded hard against her ribs.
“Congratulations, you have a son.”
“A son,” Dennis repeated, his voice barely audible. “What about Sarah? Is she all right? What about the baby? How is he?”
“Unfortunately by the time your wife got here, the baby was in distress and so was she. We did what we could to stop the labor, but couldn’t. In the end we were forced to perform an emergency caesarean. No fear, your wife did beautifully.”
“And the baby?” Dennis asked nervously.
“Small. Three pounds, ten ounces. Our main concern isn’t so much his size as his lung development. We have him in the neonatal intensive care unit now. You’ll be able to see him soon, but I don’t want you to be alarmed by the tubes and needles.”
“He’ll be all right?”
“Every indication at this point says so.”
Dennis grinned at Calla, who battled back tears, then watched as her stepfather hugged the physician.
“A son!” he cried. “I have a son.”
“I wanted a sister,” Calla muttered, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
“Your wife is anxious to see you both,” Dr. Leggatt said, then led them to her room.
Sarah looked shockingly pale against the sheets. When she saw Dennis, she stretched out a hand, and her husband moved toward her. At another time, an earlier time, Calla might have resented seeing the love between them. Although she’d made her peace with Dennis, it still hurt to know there was someone else her mother loved, but Calla recognized that what Kevin had said was true. One day she’d marry, and leave her mother for her own life. She was wrong to begrudge Sarah happiness.
Her mother was happy, she realized. She stood in the background and waited.
“Calla,” Sarah whispered, reaching toward her now.
“I’m here, Mom,” she said. She stepped close to the bed.
“Thank you…” Sarah whispered.
“Hey, I got a brother out of the deal. That’s not so bad.”
“Not bad at all,” Dennis said, placing a hand on Calla’s shoulder.