By nine she was stretched out on the sofa with a blanket. She’d placed a bucket on the floor beside her because of the queasiness in her stomach.
The doorbell chimed, but she was in no mood for company and ignored it.
“Damn it, Karen! Open the door.”
Matt.
“Leave me alone,” she shouted, draining what little energy she had left.
Disregarding her demand, Matt opened the door himself and stepped into her small apartment. She never had learned to keep her door locked. Unfortunately the habit had followed her to California.
Matt looked as pale as she had the night before. He wore the same clothes he’d had on then. If she was guessing, she’d say he hadn’t been to bed.
He lowered himself into the chair across from her, and glanced at the bucket.
“No one told me getting pregnant was like suffering the worst case of flu known to womankind,” she muttered. She sipped flat soda pop through a straw.
“Is it always like this?”
“Every morning for the past four weeks. And the occasional evening.”
He frowned, and although he didn’t say anything, his expression was apologetic. “That’s the reason you’ve missed so much work?”
She nodded. “Listen,” she said, “I’m sorry for hitting you with the news. Lanni’s been telling me for weeks that you had a right to know. I—”
“Lanni knows?”
Karen nodded again.
He expelled his breath loudly. “Anyone else?”
“No. I wouldn’t have told her, but—”
“Never mind,” he said, cutting her off. “It’s not important.” He leaned forward and rubbed his palms together. “I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. For the past twelve hours, as a matter of fact.”
She stared at him, waiting.
“I want you to move up to Hard Luck with me. The sooner we can remarry—”
“No,” she returned adamantly. “The baby is the last reason on earth for us to remarry.”
Chapter
4
"You won’t remarry me?” Matt had the audacity to look shocked. “What about the baby?”
Karen closed her eyes. She wasn’t feeling well enough to argue with her ex-husband. The nausea seemed to be worse than usual this morning and it was difficult enough to think clearly without Matt’s questions.
“Karen—”
“I’m fine.” She wasn’t, but explaining how awful she felt required more strength than she could muster.
His brow creased with concern. “Will you be this sick throughout the pregnancy?”
“I don’t know.” Good heavens, she prayed that wouldn’t be the case. Her doctor seemed to think the bouts of vomiting would pass after the first three months. So far, eight weeks into the pregnancy, Karen had experienced no lessening of symptoms.
“Are you able to work?”
“Yes…no. I’ve used up all my sick leave.” It upset her to admit that. Her boss had been wonderfully understanding, but she knew being away from her desk for days on end was a terrible inconvenience to Mr. Sullivan.
In the past four weeks, Karen had spent an average of two to three hours a day at the office. Even when she did manage to show up, she couldn’t give one hundred percent.
Matt got abruptly to his feet and started pacing. “Who’s your doctor? Maybe I should talk to him myself. You shouldn’t be this ill. Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Like what?”
“There’s no possibility this will be a multiple birth, is there?”
Twins? Triplets? The doctor hadn’t mentioned it, and Karen hadn’t given the matter a thought. “Of course not,” she assured him, but it made her wonder. How could she ever cope with twins? Then, because he’d raised the question, she asked, “What makes you think I could be having twins?”
“I read about something like this once where the wife—the woman suffered acute bouts of morning sickness and it ended up she had quints.”
“Quintuplets!” Matt’s words horrified Karen, but when she glanced up at him, he was grinning from ear to ear as though the idea brought him considerable enjoyment. “Just imagine all the publicity that would bring the lodge.”
Naturally he’d think of his precious lodge and not her. “Wipe that smile off your face, Matthew Caldwell.”
Matt sat back down and leaned forward. “This is pretty incredible, you know.”
That wasn’t the impression he’d given her the night before. Okay, the news had come as a shock, but he had a long way to go to play his part in her fantasy. She’d pictured him bringing her a huge bouquet of flowers and a large teddy bear. So far, all he’d brought her was a bunch of silly questions and an outrageous demand. He assumed that because she was pregnant they should remarry as soon as possible. Sweep their difficulties under the rug and pretend they didn’t exist—that was Matt’s way of dealing with most things, including her pregnancy.
“Think about it, Karen,” he went on, cocky grin firmly back in place. “In all the years we’ve known each other, the night of Lanni’s wedding was probably the only time we ever made love without protection.”
That was the last thing she wanted to be reminded of, especially when she felt so wretched. She stayed on the sofa with her head hanging over the edge to be sure her aim for the bucket was on target.
“The odds of your getting pregnant from our one and only…lapse must be astronomical.”
Leave it to Matt to get egotistical over something like this. The man was marinating in his own testosterone. Men and their pride! Karen would never understand it.
“Trust me, Matt, this is not the time to gloat.” The nausea worsened and she closed her eyes, fearing she was about to lose whatever was left in her stomach.
He chuckled, then seemed to realize she wasn’t joking. She must have gone even paler, because he reached over and smoothed the hair from her brow.
“What can I do?” he asked gently.
It was his tenderness that nearly did her in. Karen had to fight back tears. “Nothing,” she whispered, taking a deep breath. “It’ll pass in a minute.” Sometimes it did, and other times it didn’t. “It might be best if you left—I don’t feel up to company.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Matt warned. “I’m not walking out of this apartment until you and I have made some decisions.”
“We have nothing to decide.”
“What about the doctor and hospital bills?”
Karen hated to admit her pocketbook was hurting. The medical bills were beginning to mount. The health insurance provided through Paragon, Inc., paid eighty percent, but the twenty percent she had to pay herself grew with each doctor’s visit. She didn’t need a calculator to realize that with the difficulties she’d already experienced, she would soon run into the thousands.
“Are you offering to help?” she asked stiffly. Matt had never been good with money. It used to drive her crazy the way he’d write checks without keeping a balance in their checkbook. He’d often stack up two or three months’ worth of bank statements before he’d reconcile their account. He claimed he wasn’t irresponsible or reckless; he just wanted to make the effort worth his while.
The moment he’d mentioned his plans to be an accountant Karen should’ve realized that effort was doomed. He’d never been interested enough in numbers.
“The baby’s my responsibility, too,” he told her.
But it went without saying that Matt was in no position to be giving her money. Not with launching Hard Luck Lodge. He’d sunk every penny he could scrounge plus his entire inheritance into this venture. Knowing Matt the way she did, Karen doubted there was anything left.
“I know, but—”
“Karen.” He clasped her hand between his and got down on his knees beside her. “It makes sense to put this nonsense aside once and for all. We belong together. We always have—now more than ever.”
“Nonsense?” Did he honestly believe that the agony of their di
vorce had been a trivial decision on her part? Leaving Matt and filing for divorce had been the most difficult, painful thing she’d ever done. For him to make light of what it had cost her emotionally proved he’d never understand her.
“Okay, so you don’t want to move to Hard Luck,” he said as if living in the Arctic was all that held her back.
She closed her eyes, stunned that he knew so little about her.
“Do you?” he asked hopefully.
She opened her eyes, confused by his question.
“Would you agree to marry me and move to Hard Luck?”
“Oh, Matt, please don’t ask that of me. Not now when I feel so sick.”
“I want to take care of you.”
He was going to have his hands full running the lodge. As for taking care of her, well, she’d been doing a fair job of that herself.
“No,” she said. She needed him, perhaps for the first time, yet as hard as she tried, Karen couldn’t put the past behind her. Matt had fallen short of her expectations so often. He’d made promises in the past and let her down. There was so much more at stake now.
“No,” Matt echoed, his face tense. He stood and moved to the living room window, staring quietly out for several minutes. When he turned around, anger and frustration seemed to radiate from him. The tightness around his mouth and eyes made his expression piercing and grim.
“I’ve never understood what I did that was so terrible,” he said, his voice low. “Okay, I agree I fumbled around for a while looking for the right career. I knew that bothered you but, Karen, I’m not your father. You complained about my tendency to bounce from job to job, but was that really so bad? We never went hungry, the rent was paid and we had a decent life.”
Karen wanted to argue that it was pure luck he found work so easily and you couldn’t always count on luck. It was the uncertainty of the situation that drove her crazy. She’d worry about the rent, although somehow, they’d always managed, just as he’d said.
“I’m faithful and loyal. I never drank or abused you in any way.”
“Matt, please—”
“I’ve always loved you. The day we stood before the judge and he pounded his gavel and proclaimed that we were no longer married, I still loved you. You’re carrying my child, and I love you more than ever—but I can’t force you to care for me.”
Karen covered her face in an effort to hold back the words that would tell him how much she cared.
“You want to shut me out of your life,” he said starkly. “You want to ignore the fact that the child you’re carrying is mine, too. I never thought I’d say it, but maybe you were right—having my attorney talk to yours might be the best way to handle this.” Without another word, he walked to the door and left.
The sharp and sudden pain in Karen’s abdomen took her by surprise. The unexpectedness of it was one thing, but the intensity of the attack took her breath away. She gasped and doubled up.
Something was very wrong.
Darkness crowded her vision, and she was afraid she might faint. With what little strength she had, Karen heaved herself from the sofa and stumbled to the door.
“Matt.” She screamed his name, frantic now with fear.
He was halfway to the parking lot when he heard her.
“Help me…” she pleaded, sobbing uncontrollably. She stretched one arm toward him and clutched her stomach with the other. “I think I’m losing the baby.”
Matt sat in the waiting area outside the emergency room at Oakland Hospital. He’d tried a dozen times in the past two hours to see Karen but had been told the doctor was still with her. Two hours!
The waiting room was packed. There were several crying, sick children, a man with a bloody towel wrapped around his hand and a young mother singing a lullaby to her fussing two-year-old. A couple of girls were staring at the fish in an aquarium, while two or three men seemed glued to the TV, which was tuned to CNN.
Matt hadn’t glanced at the television or the aquarium once. He was too worried about Karen and the baby. He was afraid the length of time she’d been with the doctor didn’t bode well for the pregnancy.
He closed his eyes and forced himself to concentrate on breathing. A crushing sadness lodged in his chest. He’d known about the baby less than twenty-four hours, yet he deeply grieved the loss of his son or daughter. He would never hold this baby in his arms, never change a diaper or hear his child’s first word.
Glancing toward the swinging doors, Matt willed someone—anyone—to come and tell him what was happening with Karen.
What he’d said earlier about loving her had never seemed truer than at this moment. He hurt more now than he had when she’d served him with the divorce papers. She’d made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him, and heaven help him, he’d abide by her wishes. But no matter what the outcome of this day, it would be hard.
He leaned forward and clasped his hands, bracing himself against a fresh wave of pain. It was so sharp, so constricting, that he had difficulty breathing.
Distracted by his thoughts, Matt wasn’t immediately aware of the doctor who’d entered the room and called his name.
“Matthew Caldwell.”
Matt leapt to his feet and nearly tripped over a toddler sitting on the floor, stacking wooden blocks.
“I’m Matt Caldwell,” he told the lanky older man in the white coat. “What’s going on with Karen? What about the baby?” He prepared himself to receive the news that they hadn’t been able to save the pregnancy.
“Your wife is resting comfortably.”
Matt didn’t bother to explain that Karen was his ex-wife.
“We’ve run a number of tests, and as far as we can tell the pregnancy is progressing just fine.”
Matthew was too stunned to respond. “The baby’s fine? What happened? Karen thought she was having a miscarriage.”
The other man patted him on the back. “Your wife has a severe bladder infection.”
“But…she was in such terrible pain.”
“I suspect the infection was complicated by stress and fatigue. We’re giving her an antibiotic that’s completely safe for the baby, and as a further precaution, we’ve decided to admit her for the night. Her obstetrician will call on her later.”
“She’s been very ill with morning sickness. Is that normal?”
“Sometimes. You might talk with Dr. Baker when he’s in. Would you like to see your wife now?”
“Please.”
Matt followed the ER physician down a corridor crowded with gurneys and IV stands to a semidarkened room. He pulled aside the thin curtain around the bed. Karen lay there, her hands resting protectively over her abdomen.
Matt barely noticed the doctor’s leaving. He gazed down at Karen; their eyes met. She looked deathly pale against the white sheets. Matt figured he probably didn’t look much better. He’d never spent a more harrowing two hours in his life.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked gently. Needing to touch her, Matt reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. It wasn’t until her fingers closed around his that he remembered their disagreement.
“Oh, Matt,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry for causing you all this trouble.”
“I’d never consider helping you trouble.” He kissed the back of her hand.
Tears filled her eyes and she turned her face away from him.
“The doctor said you should sleep,” he urged her softly. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
“What about your plane? You were supposed to have left Oakland long before now.” She shifted her position to look at him again.
“I canceled my reservation. Now stop worrying about it.”
Ever so lightly, he touched her tear-stained face.
“But the tour—what about your presentations in Portland and Seattle?”
That she knew so much about his schedule surprised him. “There’ll be other tours.”
“I feel bad about messing up your plans…” Her voice faded. Whatever drug
the hospital had given her seemed to kick in just then, because she closed her eyes and was asleep within seconds.
Matt sat next to her bed until the orderly arrived. Then he followed Karen to the room she’d been assigned. He stayed until she started to stir, at which point he quietly slipped out, assuming he was the last person she’d want to see.
Later that afternoon, Karen woke up, feeling more rested than she had in weeks. She pressed her hand to her stomach, forever grateful that the pregnancy remained intact. She’d been so afraid.
A brief smile touched her lips. Generally she was the calm, cool one in a crisis, not Matt. The reverse had happened that morning. Consumed as she was with the pain, weeping and nearly hysterical, Karen had felt sure she was suffering a miscarriage.
Although he hadn’t known where to even find a hospital, Matt had been clearheaded and efficient, calling 911 for instructions and accompanying her in the ambulance. Not until they arrived at the emergency room had he displayed any emotion. And then only because the medical staff insisted he wait in the outer room.
She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her head to see her boss, Doug Sullivan, entering the room.
“Karen, how are you feeling?” He’d brought a large bouquet of arranged flowers and set the vase down on the nightstand.
Karen was so surprised to see him she didn’t answer. “How did you know I was here?”
“Matt called me.”
“Matt?” At the sound of her husband’s name she swallowed hard. Apparently he’d left Oakland, because she hadn’t seen him again. She’d asked the nurses about him, but no one seemed to know where he’d gone or when.
“Matt thought he should tell me you’d been hospitalized, and he was right.” Doug moved to the foot of her bed. “What happened?” he asked gently.
“All at once I had these excruciating pains. The doctors seem to think they’re related to a bladder infection. That, plus stress and fatigue.”