The Cowboy and the New Year's Baby

Over the years he’d delivered his share of calves and foals. He supposed he understood the rudiments of giving birth to a baby, but it seemed like an awfully personal activity to engage in with a complete stranger, especially one who was eyeing him as balefully as if he were the one responsible for her being in this predicament.

He figured this was no time for asking all the million and one questions that occurred to him, such as what she was doing out here all alone with a baby due any second. Terrified that the decision might be taken from him, he reached down and scooped the woman into his arms.

“Don’t panic,” he soothed. He figured he was panicked enough for both of them. “I’ll have you at the hospital in no time.”

“How far is it?”

“Not far,” he reassured her. Too blasted far, he thought. Contractions as hard and fast as she was having them were not a good sign. Even he had sense enough to recognize that.

“Don’t push,” he cautioned as he settled her into the cab of his truck. “Whatever you do, don’t push.”

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered, clinging to the door with a white-knuckled, viselike grip as another contraction washed over her.

Hardy leaned down and gazed into her eyes. “Sweetheart, you are not going to have this baby in my truck.” It was part reassurance, part command. Apparently the baby didn’t get the message, because a scream ripped from the woman’s throat.

“Oh, my God, the baby’s coming.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, unchecked now, as she gave in to panic. “Do something. Please.”

Hardy sucked in a deep breath of the chilly night air and reached a hasty conclusion. Like it or not, he was about to be midwife to this woman’s baby. He touched her cheek with a soothing caress, trying not to notice how soft it felt to his callused fingers. She’d already proven beyond a doubt just how much trouble she could bring into a man’s life. The last thing he needed was to be attracted to her. This was about helping her out of a jam, nothing more. He’d get this over with, deliver her to the hospital and wash his hands of her. It sounded like a sensible plan to him.

She turned those huge blue eyes of hers on him, blinking back a fresh batch of tears. “Help me, please.”

The plea cut straight through him and propelled him into action.

“Shh,” he whispered. “It’s going to be just fine. I’ll just spread a couple of blankets on the seat here so you’ll be more comfortable, and we’ll get this show on the road.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” she asked hopefully, struggling to stretch out in the cramped confines of the pickup.

“Enough,” he promised. Calves, foals, babies. Nothing to it, he reassured himself. Just concentrate and help nature along.

After that, everything happened so fast he could hardly catch his breath. The next thing he knew, he was holding a tiny baby girl in his arms. She was screaming her lungs out, but she was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Tiny fingers and toes, every one of them perfect. A swirl of soft brown fuzz on her head. Eyes as blue as her mama’s.

Amazing, powerful, unfamiliar feelings swept through him. He felt exhilarated, even more satisfied than he ever had after rambunctious sex. He had a hunch nothing he ever did would match the experience he had just shared with a woman he was never likely to see again.

He gazed into her anxious eyes. “You have a daughter,” he told her, his voice filled with awe.

“Is she okay?” the woman asked, struggling to sit up. “She’s not too little, is she? She’s early, not by much, but still it would have been better if she’d waited.”

“You’re telling me,” Hardy said dryly.

“Let me see.”

“In a second. Let me clean her up a little, get her warmed up in something comfortable. Not that I’m any expert, but she looks just about right to me,” he reassured her.

He stripped off his flannel shirt and wrapped the baby in it. She snuggled in, looking as contented as if this weren’t her first minute in the real world. He glanced at his watch. It was midnight on the dot. This little one had been in quite a rush to greet the new millennium.

Grinning, he placed the little sweetheart gently in her mama’s arms. “Happy New Year, darlin’.”

Hardy had a feeling it was going to be a long, long time before he got this New Year’s out of his head. Next year he might even break tradition and have a date. Surely a date couldn’t complicate his life any more than this stranger had.

“Oh, my God, she’s beautiful,” the woman whispered, then glanced at him. “Isn’t she the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen?”

“A real knockout,” he concurred. “Now what say we bundle the two of you up and get you to the hospital?” He regarded her worriedly. “Sorry about the accommodations, but you’ll have to sit up and hold the baby. Think you’ll be able to?”

She nodded, her gaze never leaving her baby’s face. She had to be uncomfortable, but with his assistance she struggled into a semi-upright position, then settled the baby in her arms.

When he was satisfied that she and the baby were as comfortable as they could be, Hardy eased the truck back onto the highway, turned around and headed toward Garden City. Although the condition of the roads required his full attention, he couldn’t keep his gaze from straying to his companions. After a few, slow-going miles, both of them fell asleep, clearly exhausted by the whole ordeal.

Hardy, however, felt as wired as if he’d just downed a full pot of Sweeney’s coffee. Normally he liked to tune in a country music station while he drove, but he didn’t want to risk waking either mother or baby, so he hummed quietly. Christmas carols seemed oddly appropriate, so he went through a whole medley of them.

He calculated the time it would take him to get to the hospital, glad that his grown-up passenger wasn’t awake to notice just how far away it was and just how big his lie had been when he’d told her before the birth that he thought they could make it. It had taken him better than half an hour to get from the party to where he’d been intercepted. The roads were worse now. Aware that he was carrying precious cargo, he was creeping along even slower than he would have been normally.

It was nearly one by the time he saw the lights of Garden City, another fifteen minutes before he saw the turnoff to the hospital. All that time and there hadn’t been a peep from either of his ladies. He regarded them worriedly as he drove to the emergency entrance. What if they weren’t okay? What if he’d done something wrong? What if the mama was bleeding to death? What was wrong with him? He should have driven faster, found a phone and called for help, something.

The roads around the hospital had been sanded. Even so, with the snow still coming down, the truck skidded when he tried to stop behind an ambulance, barely missing the back bumper of the emergency vehicle. Hardy bolted from the cab. Perfectly aware that he was acting a little like a crazy man, he raced into the emergency room shouting for help.

A nurse came flying out of a cubicle in the back, followed by a familiar face. He’d never been so glad to see anyone in his life as he was to see Lizzy Adams-Robbins, daughter of Harlan Adams and, far more important, a full-fledged doctor.

“What on earth?” she said when she saw him. “Hardy, what’s wrong? Has there been an accident? You were at the White Pines party, weren’t you? Did somebody get hurt?”

“Outside,” he said. “My truck. A woman and a baby.” For a man known for his glib tongue, he was having serious trouble forming sentences.

“Is the baby sick?” she asked, already moving toward the door at an admirably brisk pace.

“Newborn,” he said, then drew in a deep breath and announced, “I delivered her.”

Lizzy stopped and stared. So did the nurse who’d been running alongside.

“You delivered a baby?” Lizzy echoed. “Where? Why?”

“Just help them. Make sure they’re okay,” he said. “Don’t you need a stretcher or a wheelchair or something?”

“Got it,” the nurse said, grabbing a wheelchair.

Lizzy raced past him. Outside, they found the baby squalling and her mama just coming awake. Hardy helped Lizzy get the two of them into the wheelchair, then stood back as she whipped them inside.

Suddenly feeling useless, Hardy stayed where he was. He sucked in a deep breath of the cold air and tried to calm nerves that suddenly felt strung tight as a bow. It was over now. The woman and her baby were in the hands of professionals. He could go on home, just as he’d planned.

But for some reason he couldn’t make himself leave. He moved the truck to a parking space, then went back inside. He grabbed a soda from a vending machine, then settled down to wait for news.

He watched the clock ticking slowly, then stood up and began to pace. There was no sign of Lizzy or the nurse. Seconds ticked past, then minutes, then an hour.

Hardy was just about to charge into the treatment area and demand news, when the nurse returned.

“Everybody’s doing fine,” she assured him. “They’ve checked the mother and the baby from stem to stern and there are no complications. You did a great job, Dad.”

Hardy started at her assumption. “I’m not the father,” he informed her quickly. “I don’t even know the woman.”

The nurse didn’t seem to believe him. She regarded him with amused skepticism that suggested she recognized him and that she’d heard tales about Hardy Jones. Since he’d dated quite a few people on staff at the hospital, it was entirely possible she had.