Nightingale Way: An Eternity Springs Novel (25 page)

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Cat. When I got home … I felt helpless. Hell, I still feel helpless. Let’s talk about something else.”

“No, let me get through it.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then said, “I’ve never told anyone about this before. You asked me once. I remember that. But I couldn’t talk about it, and now I need to talk about it. Better late than never, don’t you think?”

“Whatever feels right to you. This is your call.”

She drew in a bracing breath and let it out with a sigh.

“No, my water didn’t break. I knew she was gone even before I realized I hadn’t felt her move for some time. I just … knew. I waited one day, hoping you would come home or at least call. When I finally worked up the nerve to call the doctor, she said for me to come in and bring someone with me.”

“And I was gone. Your mother was with me.”

“I tried to reach you both, but … it was one of those assignments where you’re totally gone when you’re gone.”

“It was a mistake for me to take that trip. I’ve never forgiven myself.”

She smiled sadly. “Dad was at a symposium in Prague. I don’t know why I did what I did next, Jack. It was like I checked out and automaton Cat checked in. I went across town to a hospital where I didn’t know anyone, where nobody knew me. The sonogram confirmed she was gone, and the doctor wanted to send me home to wait for labor to begin naturally. He said it’d probably happen within two weeks.”

“You’re kidding. That’s the way they handle it? You have to wait, knowing … that’s awful.”

“I refused to leave. I couldn’t go home. My belly was so still. I just … couldn’t.”

Jack’s voice sounded raw. “I understand, honey. I do. You did what you had to do. I can’t tell you how much I regret not being there for you. Maybe if we’d gone through that together …”

“We wouldn’t have fallen apart?”

He lifted his shoulders, strain visible in his expression, his blue eyes soft and sad. “Who knows?”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then Cat continued her story. “They induced labor, and blessedly, that went pretty quick. I blocked a lot of it out because it was simply the most horrible thing ever. The pain and the pushing and knowing that she wasn’t alive and not knowing what to expect when she delivered. The terror of seeing her or of being too afraid to look at her. In the end, she was just like any other baby. Just small. She was so tiny, Jack. I held her for a little while. I wanted to know why, so they … tested her. They told me she had a heart defect.”

“Nobody’s fault,” he murmured. “The fall was just a coincidence.”

“That’s what they said.”

A minute ticked by before he spoke again. “How much did she weigh?”

“Fifteen and a half ounces.”

“Did she have hair?”

Cat smiled faintly. “Little white fuzzy stuff. She had long fingers. Like yours. Mine are short.”

“So she had my fingers, hmm?” He pressed a kiss against Cat’s hair.

“Yes.” Tears suddenly flooded her eyes and she blinked them back. “She was pretty, Jack. She …”

Cat held her breath, a revelation hanging on her tongue. Did she honestly want to share this most private detail? Before this moment, no, she never had. But now?

She’d never dreamed she would have this talk with Jack—or learn so much about him that she’d never suspected. These last few minutes, few weeks, had revealed that the man cared more about their loss than she’d ever suspected. Had he shown it back then, and she’d been so lost in her own misery that she’d been blind to it? Or
had he totally hidden how he felt? She didn’t know. She barely remembered when he finally came home.

She hadn’t been fair to him. She swallowed hard, then confessed. “I have a picture of Lauren.”

His body stiffened. “What?”

She blew out a breath. “The hospital had a protocol to deal with miscarriages. They had a counselor see me. She brought a little white burial dress made by volunteers. She took a photograph of Lauren and gave it to me.”

“You never told me? Never showed me?” Jack pushed away from her and sat up, his gaze accusing, his tone anguished as he said, “For God’s sake, Cat. I never got to see her or hold her, and you kept a picture of her away from me, too? That’s just cruel.”

“I … I couldn’t …” As he rose and stalked naked across the room, disappearing into the master bathroom, her heart twisted. She had no defense. She’d never shared Lauren with Jack, and that was wrong. So wrong.

Cat sat up at the sound of the shower. For a long minute she sat frozen in place, her heart thumping. Breaking.

No. She wouldn’t let this happen. They’d come too far. They’d lanced the wound—might as well get all the poison out.

She threw off the covers and marched into the bathroom. The shower stall was huge with spigots on all three of the tile walls, turned on full blast. Steam rose and collected on the fourth wall, made of glass, shielding Jack’s form but not concealing him. He stood with his eyes shut, his jaw hard, face lifted to meet the pounding stream of water, his hands fisted at his sides.

Cat opened the shower door and stepped inside. “I’m sorry.”

He jerked his head around. His stare was angry and wounded and she wanted to take him into her arms
and comfort him. He warned her off with his glare, but she ignored him.

“I didn’t know it mattered. All these years, Jack, you’ve hardly spoken Lauren’s name.”

“Damn you, Catherine. Of course she mattered. She was my baby, too. I wanted her, too.”

“I was broken. I was angry that you weren’t there when I needed you.”

“You buried her without me!”

“I know. I know.” Witnessing his pain made her sick to her stomach. “I’m so sorry, Jack.”

“I tracked her down. Found the cemetery. I go every year to her grave site, just like you do. I wait for you to leave, and then I go to her.”

Oh, Jack
. She had a lump the size of a boulder in her throat. “I didn’t know.”

“I lost my family, Cat. Again! Once wasn’t enough. I lost my family again!”

With that, he broke. The strong man broke. He bowed his head and his shoulders shook and a strangled, mournful sound escaped him. She went to him and wrapped him in her arms, crying. “I know, Jack. I know now. I didn’t know then. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

They mourned, together, for the first time ever, seeking comfort and offering comfort. Then, taking comfort. She could feel the tension pulsing through him, so she wasn’t surprised when he backed her against the tile wall and took her. It was urgent and needy and filled with pain. His pain. Hers. Theirs.

It was fierce, fast, almost angry sex that moved from the shower to the plush rug covering the bedroom floor. It was the kind of sex she’d wanted to have with him during those months when their marriage was falling apart but instead, on the rare occasions when he turned to her, she’d done little more than lie there. Not this
time. This time she gave. This time she took. This time she made war in the hope of finally finding peace.

But when it was over, they didn’t cuddle and comfort. Jack retreated to opposite side of the rug, and feeling suddenly insecure, Cat grabbed a throw from the ottoman of a nearby chair and covered herself. He was still breathing hard. She watched him warily. Peace was obviously still beyond reach. Finally, Cat said, “Jack, I—”

He interrupted with a curse and rolled to his feet. Opening his closet, he grabbed the navy terry cloth robe hanging from a hook on the door and slipped it on as Cat climbed to her feet, gathered her clothes, and retreated to the bathroom to dress. She wanted to weep and she needed to think.

She was tempted to hide or run away, but wasn’t behavior like that part of what had brought them to this point?

Maybe she took a little longer than necessary to dry her hair, and she probably expended more effort than necessary utilizing the makeup that she carried in her purse. Eventually, wearing the armor of her clothes and makeup and styled hair, she went looking for Jack.

She found him swimming laps in the pool. A bottle of bourbon and a crystal highball glass filled two fingers high sat on a teak table between two deck chairs. Cat strode over to the pool house and removed two bottles of water from the fridge. She set one beside the bourbon, took a seat in the deck chair, and waited, counting his laps.

At thirty-seven, he stopped. Cat wondered how many he’d swum before she arrived.

He climbed out of the pool and disappeared into the pool house. She heard the shower running and figured his skin must be waterlogged by now.

Five minutes later, he emerged from the pool house
wearing drawstring cotton pants, a sport shirt, and a solemn expression. He asked, “Did I hurt you?”

“Did I hurt
you
?” she responded.

His mouth twisted in a wry grin. He reached for the bourbon but picked up the bottle of water instead and took a seat in the deck chair next to hers. They sat without speaking for a long time. Finally, Jack broke the silence. “Will you show me her picture sometime?”

“Would you like to see it now? I have it in my purse.”

He nodded, then lifted his gaze toward the sky.

Cat retrieved her purse from the house and, returning to the pool, saw that he’d switched on outdoor lighting. She’d had the original photograph reproduced, and she pulled a two-by-three-inch copy from where she kept it tucked away in her wallet. Silently, almost reverently, with fresh tears running down her face, she handed it to Jack.

He held it beneath a light, studied it, swallowed hard, and smiled wistfully. “You’re right, Cat. She was beautiful.”

She swiped the tears from her cheeks with her fingers as she took a seat beside him. “You can keep that if you’d like. I have copies.”

“Thanks.” After gazing at the photo for another long minute, he tucked it into his shirt pocket like the treasure it was. He switched off the outdoor lights and lifted his gaze to the sky. They sat in silence for a good five minutes before Jack spoke again. “We’ll never forget her.”

“No, we won’t.”

“We’ll always miss her.”

“Yes, we will.” As a wave of that peace she’d been seeking washed over the raw grief the afternoon had exposed, Cat felt herself relax. Finally, Lauren’s mommy and daddy had mourned her.

Jack’s voice came from out of the shadows. “It wasn’t her time to be born.”

“No, I guess it wasn’t.”

Without lowering his stare from the starlit heavens, Jack extended his arm toward her, his hand open in silent request. Cat took his hand and held it and watched a twinkling star. “I like to think that she’s up there watching over me. Over us. The littlest angel.”

“Our angel. Our little angel, Lauren.”

Somewhere in the heavens, a star twinkled just a little more brightly.

As Jack and Cat climbed into his truck to make the trip back down to town early the following morning, Cat checked her phone and frowned. “Sarah told me she’d text me with news about the Rafferty baby. Nothing yet. I hope there’s nothing wrong.”

Jack noted the way her teeth tugged worriedly at her lower lip. “Sage said it might be today before she delivered. Want to drive by the clinic on the way to Angel’s Rest?”

“Yes. Good idea.”

Her unspoken fear rode along with them on the trip down into town. Jack figured that considering her history, her mind probably always went to the “something’s wrong” possibility first. As Jack turned onto Pinyon a few minutes later, approaching the clinic from the north, he spied a crowd of people outside, Cam and Gabe among them. He was already shifting his foot to apply the brake when Cat said, “I’d like to stop.”

“Gabe is playing with his daughter and Cam’s son is throwing a baseball around with Mac,” Jack observed as he pulled into a parking place. “I don’t think they’d be doing that if there was a problem.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

Jack placed his hand on the small of Cat’s back and
escorted her toward the front of the clinic. At their approach, Mac, who stood a few feet off to the right from Cam and Gabe, held the baseball and waved a hello. Cam straightened away from the tree against which he’d been leaning, and when they approached the group, he asked, “Come to join the baby watch?”

“So, no news yet?” Jack asked, noting how Cat visibly relaxed at Cam’s greeting.

“Not yet.” He nodded toward the clinic. “The women are all inside.”

“I’ll go check it out,” Cat said. “Excuse me.”

Jack and Cam both watched her walk away, then Cam gave Jack a considering look. “You two are out awfully early, cuz. What’s going on there?”

“Honestly, I’m not exactly sure.” He nodded toward the building. “So, what’s going on there?”

“Sarah came out with a report about twenty minutes ago. She said it shouldn’t be long now. She’s been here all night.”

“Why? Are they expecting trouble?”

“No. No trouble.” He shrugged his shoulders and added, “Colt and Sage are friends. We want to be here.”

Gabe Callahan’s boxer, Clarence, padded up to them and swished his crooked tail back and forth as his sniffed at Jack’s jeans then looked up as if to say, “Well, where’s my buddy?”

Jack scratched the dog beneath his drooping jowls. “Fred isn’t with me today, boy.”

“Dog. Dog. Dog.” One of the Callahan girls toddled over toward Jack and Cam, her father following behind her. Cam swooped down and swept her up into his arms, blowing raspberries on her tummy. She squealed with laughter and wriggled until Cam set her down. Then she ran toward Gabe, hid behind his legs, and played hide-and-seek with Cam.

“Which one is this?” Jack asked Gabe over the giggles.

“Meg. Cari is in with her mother.” Gabe frowned and wrinkled his nose. “Oh, for crying out loud, Margaret. I just changed your diaper. Excuse us, gentlemen.”

Gabe scooped her up and headed for the clinic restroom. Mac sent Devin a high arching ball, then called after Gabe, “Get a status report while you’re in there, would you?”

Gabe waved his consent and disappeared into the building. Cam said, “Those girls are just too darned cute. Smelly sometimes, but cute.”

Jack noted the gleam in his cousin’s eyes and casually asked, “So, do you think you and Sarah will give that another go?”