Read Online His Bundle of Love / the Color of Courage by Patricia Davids - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Patricia Davids
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might happen to them sent chills down his spine. He’d seen enough worst-case scenarios to know the odds were stacked against them.
Caitlin gathered her strength as she rested for a moment with her cheek pressed against the crisp material of the man’s shirt. It held a clean, fresh smell, but beneath that scent was a deeper more disturbing one—a masculine essence.
“Next time wait until someone is here to help before you get up.” Deep, mellow and scolding, the voice from her dreams rumbled up from the chest beneath her ear. She chanced opening her eyes. The face above her was handsome except for the frown etched between his deep blue eyes. Handsome and vaguely familiar. She stared at him feeling both puzzled and disturbed.
“Mick, what on earth happened?” The surprised question came from the nurse who hurried into the room. “Is she hurt?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Let’s get her back into bed. What was she trying to do?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea.”
Caitlin’s dizziness eased, but her pounding headache didn’t. Still, she kept her gaze fastened on the face of the man who laid her gently on the bed. So this was Mick, the guy claiming to be her baby’s father. There was something familiar about him—but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
The nurse checked Caitlin’s IV, then wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her other arm. “I had hoped that seeing you might jar her memory.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here.” Caitlin eyed the man beside the bed. He rubbed his hands on the sides of his jeans then thrust them into his front pockets and avoided looking at her. Why was he saying he was her baby’s father? What did he want?
The nurse seemed satisfied with Caitlin’s blood pressure. She folded the cuff and tucked it in its holder above the bed.
“Betty, could I talk to Caitlin alone?” Mick asked.
“Of course. I’ll be right outside if you need me.” The nurse flashed him a sympathetic smile, patted his arm and left.
So he was on a first-name basis with the nurses. The knowledge made Caitlin uneasy. What was his angle? She waited until the door closed. Arching one eyebrow, she said, “Okay, Mick—jar me.”
He pulled a chair up and sat beside the bed. Clasping his hands together, he stared at them for a long second, then met her gaze. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
She tried to concentrate, but her headache pounded away inside her skull. Trying to remember only made it worse. She struggled to keep her face bland. It never paid to let others see your weakness. “I remember thinking I was in labor.”
“You called out and Eddy came.”
“That’s right,” she admitted slowly. “He said he’d get help, but I had my doubts.”
A small grin lifted the corner of his lips. “I guess we both underestimated him.”
It was his smile that triggered her memory. Oh, yes, she knew him now. She had sketched him once, tried to capture his powerful body and his gentle manner that was so at odds with his size. She had caught that unique quality with limited success. Maybe because gentleness was something she knew little about. “I’ve seen you at one of the shelters.”
“I try to get over to Mercy House once or twice a week.”
“Eddy brought you to my room, and you stayed with me until the ambulance got there. You came with me. The siren was so loud. What happened after that?”
“You had your baby in the emergency room.”
“I don’t remember,” she whispered.
“You told me to go with her when they took her to the nursery, and I did. Apparently, before you passed out, you told them I was the baby’s father.”
Caitlin resisted the urge to believe him. “Why would I do that?”
“The doctor said that women who have an embolus like you did—they know something is wrong. If you thought you were dying, maybe you didn’t have anyone else who could take care of her.”
He was telling the truth. Somehow she knew it, but she
Caitlin gathered her strength as she rested for a moment with her cheek pressed against the crisp material of the man’s shirt. It held a clean, fresh smell, but beneath that scent was a deeper more disturbing one—a masculine essence.
“Next time wait until someone is here to help before you get up.” Deep, mellow and scolding, the voice from her dreams rumbled up from the chest beneath her ear. She chanced opening her eyes. The face above her was handsome except for the frown etched between his deep blue eyes. Handsome and vaguely familiar. She stared at him feeling both puzzled and disturbed.
“Mick, what on earth happened?” The surprised question came from the nurse who hurried into the room. “Is she hurt?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Let’s get her back into bed. What was she trying to do?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea.”
Caitlin’s dizziness eased, but her pounding headache didn’t. Still, she kept her gaze fastened on the face of the man who laid her gently on the bed. So this was Mick, the guy claiming to be her baby’s father. There was something familiar about him—but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
The nurse checked Caitlin’s IV, then wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her other arm. “I had hoped that seeing you might jar her memory.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here.” Caitlin eyed the man beside the bed. He rubbed his hands on the sides of his jeans then thrust them into his front pockets and avoided looking at her. Why was he saying he was her baby’s father? What did he want?
The nurse seemed satisfied with Caitlin’s blood pressure. She folded the cuff and tucked it in its holder above the bed.
“Betty, could I talk to Caitlin alone?” Mick asked.
“Of course. I’ll be right outside if you need me.” The nurse flashed him a sympathetic smile, patted his arm and left.
So he was on a first-name basis with the nurses. The knowledge made Caitlin uneasy. What was his angle? She waited until the door closed. Arching one eyebrow, she said, “Okay, Mick—jar me.”
He pulled a chair up and sat beside the bed. Clasping his hands together, he stared at them for a long second, then met her gaze. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
She tried to concentrate, but her headache pounded away inside her skull. Trying to remember only made it worse. She struggled to keep her face bland. It never paid to let others see your weakness. “I remember thinking I was in labor.”
“You called out and Eddy came.”
“That’s right,” she admitted slowly. “He said he’d get help, but I had my doubts.”
A small grin lifted the corner of his lips. “I guess we both underestimated him.”
It was his smile that triggered her memory. Oh, yes, she knew him now. She had sketched him once, tried to capture his powerful body and his gentle manner that was so at odds with his size. She had caught that unique quality with limited success. Maybe because gentleness was something she knew little about. “I’ve seen you at one of the shelters.”
“I try to get over to Mercy House once or twice a week.”
“Eddy brought you to my room, and you stayed with me until the ambulance got there. You came with me. The siren was so loud. What happened after that?”
“You had your baby in the emergency room.”
“I don’t remember,” she whispered.
“You told me to go with her when they took her to the nursery, and I did. Apparently, before you passed out, you told them I was the baby’s father.”
Caitlin resisted the urge to believe him. “Why would I do that?”
“The doctor said that women who have an embolus like you did—they know something is wrong. If you thought you were dying, maybe you didn’t have anyone else who could take care of her.”
He was telling the truth. Somehow she knew it, but she
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