Read Online Silver Dawn (Wishes #4.5) by G. J. Walker-Smith - Free Book Online

completely different to sitting with Gabrielle. The level of agitation and worry was low, but the feelings of guilt and inadequacy never left me. My son never seemed to notice. He was always placid and calm, except when he was being bathed.
    He was awake for a change, wide-eyed and quietly checking out his surroundings through the clear plastic box.
    “So, you’re alone in here again?” I asked, leaning forward in the chair to peer over the edge of the crib. “I’d be making the most of it if I was you, mate. The Davis kid will be in here soon.”
    If he was worried by the prospect, it didn’t show.
    “I wish I had better news for you today,” I mumbled. “Your mum isn’t doing very well. I don’t know what to do.”
    No one seemed to know what to do. That was the worst part. I certainly wasn’t going to get any answers from the baby, but he was a good listener.
    “I can’t even think straight any more,” I confessed. “And today I feel old and tired.” I brushed my hand over his dark hair. “That’s probably not what you want to hear, huh? If it makes you feel any better, your sister had a rough start too and she turned out okay. I wasn’t old and tired then, though. I was just young and stupid.”
    I’d had no clue what I was doing when Charli was born. I’d bluffed my way through her entire childhood, trying to keep her on track as best I could by grasping anything that would keep me in the little girl loop. I hadn’t anticipated ever being ready for another child, mainly because I’d spent years having my arse kicked by the first one.
    As frustrating as it was for Gabrielle, the long process of getting pregnant had probably helped ease me back into parenthood. My mind was totally in the game this time around. I was ready and excited – right up until everything went haywire on the day he was born. Now I couldn’t even get my act together enough to hold him. It was just too cruel to comprehend.
    I sat for a long time, paying attention to every single move he made. Conversation was sparse, but I didn’t beat myself up over it. There’s a limit to what you can talk about when it’s one-sided, and I’d covered a lot of subject matter over the last few days.
    My eyes drifted to the card stuck on the end of the crib. Every detail of his short life was written on it. His weight, length, and birthday were correct. His name was only half right. “Blake baby,” I said aloud. “That’s what they’re calling you?”
    I tore the card off the crib and headed out to the nurse’s station. Hannah didn’t notice me swipe a pen off the desk. She was on the phone.
    “We need to find you a name, little man,” I said, sitting back down beside him. “Blake baby won’t do.”
    I peered down at my son, trying to figure out what to call him. All I knew for certain is that he was no Pierre-Auguste, and Lionel was definitely out of the question. “My little boy in the box,” I whispered.
    He began to stir and let out a funny little groan. My grand effort to settle him came in the form of a gentle pat on his back. “Okay, okay, I won’t call you that any more,” I promised. “You could be Jack in the box. What do you reckon?”
    As expected, he didn’t protest.
    I said the name a hundred times in my head, and a couple of times out loud. It wasn’t a name Gabi and I had discussed, but I liked it.
    I wrote it down on the card. “Just so you know, you’re not out of the woods yet. Your mum will probably call you Jacques.”
    He groaned again, and would probably do so every time his mother put her French spin on his name.
    “Jack Blake,” I announced, pushing the card back into the slot on the front of the crib. “Perfect, classic and strong.”
    Hannah poked her head around the doorway. My first instinct was to hide the pen I’d swiped, but she wasn’t there to talk stationary.
    “I’ve just had a call from upstairs,” she said quietly. “You can go back to ICU if you want to.”
    I glanced at