It was to be a most unusual wedding... A
very
pregnant bride not quite sure marriage is the answer--and a determined groom
who intends to have the "I-dos" said before the baby makes an appearance!
Judge Harold Larson glanced at Dani, waiting for her
answer.
And that’s when it happened.
The nagging pain that had centered in her back
throughout the day, radiated outward in an intense, constricting band. The
air whooshed from her lungs and her hold on Nick became a death grip.
Struggling to draw breath, she shot him a wide-eyed, panicked look.
Nick’s comprehension was instantaneous.
"Harold?" He didn’t raise his voice, but something
in his tone succeeded in snagging the judge’s full attention.
"You have something to say before we begin?"
"Just a request." He shot Harold a speaking look. "Dani
and I have decided on the short version, if you don’t mind."
Again comprehension dawned, this time in the judge’s
eyes.
Nick silently willed him not to let on to the rest
of the gathering. If they discovered Dani had gone into labor, all hell
would break loose and this marriage would never become fact. Fortunately,
Harold was no fool. Years on the bench had undoubtedly taught him to make
swift--and accurate--assessments of people. The judge’s gaze shifted from
Dani’s mother, Ruth to the rest of Dani’s relatives and he gave an
imperceptible nod.
"Actually, Nick, that was going to be my request,"
he commented easily. "I’m afraid my schedule’s tight today, so if there
aren’t any objections we’ll get the two of you married with the minimum of
fuss."
"And not a minute too soon," came Kendell’s
irrepressible comment.
"It may not be a minute too soon, but it certainly
is nine months too late," Ruth retorted, in her most parental tone of voice.
Dani’s hand clenched in his again and he looked
down. Damn. If this was another contraction, they didn’t have much time.
"Harold!" he barked.
The judge didn’t require further prompting. "Dearly
beloved--" he began.
"Wait! The flowers. Who was supposed to bring the
flowers?"
Nick didn’t know which sister spoke, but he could
have cheerfully strangled her. "I’ll buy Dani a truck load the minute we’re
married. Keep going, Harold."
"We’re gathered here today--"
"The child should have flowers." Austin, the father
of the bride, spoke for the very first time.
"Daddy, I don’t need flowers," Dani caught her
breath long enough to reply.
"I think I saw a street vendor selling them just
outside the courthouse. It won’t take long to run out there and buy a
bunch."
"Fine." Nick dug his wallet from his back pocket and
yanked out a wad of bills. "Who wants to volunteer?"
One of the nephews stepped forward, snatched the
fistful of money and raced out the door. Judge Larson caught Nick’s eye.
Apparently, whatever the judge read there was more than sufficient to
convince him to continue with the ceremony. "We’re gathered here today to
join this man and woman in matrimony."
"We’re not going to wait for Christopher?" another
sister complained. "I’m sure we can delay the ceremony for just five
minutes."
"Christopher will have to miss a word or two," Nick
snapped. "His Honor has a tight schedule, don’t you, Harold?"
Dani let out a soft gasp and beads of sweat appeared
on Judge Larson’s forehead. "Very tight. In fact, I think we’ll move
straight to the really, really short version. Do you, Nicholas Colter take
Danielle Sheraton for your lawfully wedded wife?"
"This is rather unusual," Ruth murmured unhappily.
"I do," Nick snapped. "Keep going Harold!"
"And do you--"
Dani groaned. "I do! I do!"
"Don’t you even want to hear the words?" Austin
demanded. "What sort of wedding is this, anyway?"
"I heard them last time, Daddy! The only thing
that’s changed since then is the man I’m saying them to."
"And thank heaven for that!" Ruth muttered.
"Do you have the ring, Nick?" Harold prompted.
"Right here." He yanked it off his pinkie, forced
Dani’s clenched fist open and shoved the diamond-studded band onto her
finger. He didn’t even bother waiting for the judge this time. "You’re mine
now, Danielle Colter. Through the good times and the bad, in sickness,
health and childbirth. Hell, sweetheart, you’re just plain stuck with me."
"You have such a way with words, Nick. I wish--" She
closed her eyes and winced.
"What do you wish, sweetheart?"
"That I had something to give you."
"You will soon enough," he retorted roughly.
"Harold, are we through here?"
"Almost. If anyone has any reason why these two
should not be lawfully wed, let him speak now or forever hold his peace." He
didn’t wait for an objection. "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may
kiss the bride."
Nick gave his wife a regretful look. "Somehow, I
doubt there’s time for that." Grabbing the wings on the back of the chair,
he spun it around and rolled briskly toward the door. "Clear a path, folks!
Harold, think you can arrange for a police escort?"
The judge was already on the phone. "I’ll have them
meet you by the front entrance. Don’t panic, man. We’ll get her to the
hospital in time."
"I never panic," Nick retorted. Although he’d like
to. Right at this moment, he’d kill for that ability.
Ruth’s mouth dropped open as understanding set in.
She grabbed her husband’s arm. "Oh, my goodness. She’s in labor. Danielle!
You’re in labor?"
"I thought it was a backache, but--" She moaned
softly.
"Oh, dear. Just like when I had Richey. By the time
I realized I was in labor--" Ruth’s eyes widened. "Unless you want her
having that baby in the middle of the courthouse hallway, you’d better
hurry, Nick!"
"Thanks, Ruth. I’ll keep that in mind."
He whisked the chair from the judge’s chambers,
through the outer office and into the hallway, grateful for the sturdy
castors. It was almost as good as a wheelchair and a hell of a lot more
comfortable. Dani clung to the armrest with one hand and anchored Jamie’s
hat with the other. "Hang on, sweetheart. The police will get us there in
plenty of time."
He hoped!
Finally reaching the front entrance of the
courthouse, Nick plucked Dani out of the chair. "End of the road,
sweetheart."
"Why? What’s wrong?"
"Steps. We get to hike it from here. I don’t see an
ambulance, yet, but the police have arrived."
The officer stood by the squad car and as they
approached, he hastened to open the back door. Nick gently set Dani on her
feet. She looked at him, her eyes huge and dark and slightly bewildered.
"Oh, dear," she whispered.
"What? What is it?" Please! Don’t let her deliver
their baby on the sidewalk, he prayed desperately. "What’s wrong now?"
She glanced down. "I’m afraid I’ve sprung a leak."
It only took an instant to grasp what had happened.
"Her water’s just broken," Nick explained to the officer--a very young,
fresh-scrubbed man who instantly turned pink around the ears. "We’re going
to need to get her to the hospital. Fast. Do you have a blanket we can use?"
Fortunately, the officer was both intelligent and
level-headed. He provided them with a blanket and waited until Nick had
helped Dani into the backseat. Then he flipped on his emergency lights and
took off, weaving through the traffic with both speed and skill--as well as
the liberal use of his siren. Apparently he wasn’t any more interested in
delivering a baby in the back of his squad car than Nick.
"The contractions are coming closer together," Dani
announced nervously, before breaking off with a groan. Her hat trembled from
the force of the contraction, dipping to caress her cheek as though in
sympathy.
Nick locked his arms around her and cradled her
close. Hurry the hell up! he silently willed. As though intercepting his
thoughts, the officer slammed his foot down on the gas pedal. "Five minutes,
sweetheart. Just hang in there for five more minutes."
"I don’t think I can wait that long! I need to
push."
"No, you don’t," he informed her grimly. "Not yet."
"Yes, I do!" She glared, her eyes glittering with
ebony fire beneath a tumble of night-black curls. "It’s my baby. I should
know whether or not I need to--" She broke off, her hands clamping around
his arms hard enough to cut the circulation.
"Don’t push! You’re supposed to..." What the hell
was she supposed to do? He’d never felt so helpless and unprepared in his
life.
"Breathe?" the officer offered helpfully.
Nick grasped the suggestion like a lifeline. "Yeah,
breathe. You’re supposed to breathe."
The instant she could speak again, she snapped, "I
know that! I’m not a complete idiot. I did take lessons on child birth and
labor, you know."
He’d missed out on that, he realized with a pang.
She’d attended those classes alone, or with someone else. He forced the
thought from his mind, forced himself to concentrate on helping her. "Well,
are you using them?"
"Yes, I’m using them! Haven’t you been listening?
I’m breathing loud enough to crack glass. Or did you think all these noises
I’ve been making are how I norm--" A muffled shriek caught in her throat.
Nick swore beneath his breath. "Pant. Try that, will
you? I read somewhere panting’s supposed to help."
"You want me to pant?" she demanded the instant
she’d recovered her voice. "How ’bout if you try and pant while I lock your
innards in a vice and squeeze hard enough to--" She groaned.
He held her closer. "Trust me, honey. My innards are
in a vice."
She buried her head against his shoulder and her
wedding hat tumbled to the seat in a forgotten heap of ivory lace and satin
ribbons. "Why did you get me pregnant? All I wanted was to sleep with you,
not have your baby."
The officer’s ears turned pink again. "Did you now,"
Nick murmured. "I guess this time it turned out to be a package deal."
"I order à la carte and you give me a nine course
meal! You messed up, Colter."
Nick couldn’t help himself. He smiled into the silky
black curls clinging to her temple. "I’m really sorry," he said, careful to
keep all hint of amusement from his voice. "If it makes you feel any better,
I didn’t plan for you to get pregnant."
"Well, it doesn’t make me feel better. And you did a
damn fine job for somebody without a plan." Another contraction hit and air
hissed between her gritted teeth. "You should have considered this
possibility when you seduced me. Why didn’t you? You’re supposed to be the
brains of the operation, not me."
"In case you didn’t notice, my brain wasn’t the one
in charge that night," he muttered.
"Oh, great. You decide to cut loose for the first
time in your blueprinted life and look what happens!"
The policeman glanced in the rearview mirror. "She
must be in transition. That’s the worst stage of labor right toward the end.
Real painful. They always talk nasty when they’re in transition. She doesn’t
really mean what she’s saying."
"I do so mean it! We were supposed to have a
one-night stand. And this is what I get for a single lousy night of
incredible lovemaking."
That gave him pause. He lifted an eyebrow.
"Incredible?"
"All right. Spectacular. Spectacular lovemaking. It
still should have been more."
Trying to keep pace with her special form of logic
took every brain cell he possessed. "What should have been more?"
"I should have gotten more than one night of
spectacular out of all this agony. For what I’m going through I deserve
months. Maybe years worth of spectacular."
"I’ll see what I can do next time."
"There’s not going to be a next time!" She fisted
her hands around the lapels of his tux, practically ripping them free of the
seams. "There is never going to be a next time. That was your one shot and
you hit the bull’s eye. Congratulations, darlin’."
"Definitely transition," the policeman muttered.
Nick eased perspiration-dampened curls from her
forehead, not the least dismayed by her declaration. They were married now.
He’d have a full year in which to change her mind. Plenty of opportunities
to hit more bulls’ eyes. "But it was one hell of a hit, wasn’t it,
sweetheart?"
In a heartbeat, anger slipped into sorrow. "I
haven’t even picked out names." Tears welled in her ink-dark eyes. "We’ll
have to call him, ‘hey you.’ He’ll end up with a complex and hate us
forever."
"If it’s a boy we’ll name him Austin, after your
father. Or Richard, after your brother. If it’s a girl..." He took a risk. A
huge risk. "What do you think of Abigail?"
"Abigail?" She tried it out, whispering the name to
herself. "I like it. It’s sweet. A little old-fashioned, but pretty."
"So we’re decided? If we have a girl, we’ll call her
Abigail. And if it’s a boy--"
"What about your father? Don’t you want to name a
son after him?"
"I think Austin would appreciate it more."
Another contraction hit, one that took forever to
pass. "Dear heaven, Nick. It hurts. Why does having a baby have to hurt so
much?"
He hated being helpless, hated it more than anything
in recent memory. "I’m sorry. If I could feel the pain for you, I would."
"It wouldn’t work," she informed him sadly.
It was an irrational conversation--a totally
ridiculous conversation--but it seemed to keep her mind off the baby’s
desperate rush to be born. "Why not?"
The police car screeched to a halt outside the
emergency room entrance and she glanced at him as the car door beside her
flew open, her gaze filled with sorrow. "It wouldn’t work because you can’t
feel."
