Soul Deep (20 page)

“So all of your being sick has been morning
sickness?” It certainly had lasted far beyond the morning.

“I have hyperemesis gravidarum—that’s Latin
for ‘too much barfing,’ I think. They want to give me IV fluids and
see if I can’t keep some food down.”

He kissed her hair. “Whatever you decide to
do, I’ll stand by you.”

She pulled back, looked up at him. “You’re
not angry?”

He shook his head. “Why on God’s green earth
would I be angry that the woman I love is pregnant with our
baby?”

She gave him a tremulous smile, her cheeks
wet with tears. “I want to have this baby—if I can. It’s not going
to be without risks, but I want to try. I know you weren’t
expecting this. Neither was I.”

Jack couldn’t help but smile, the elation
he’d held back finally washing through him. “Out of all the
surprises life has sent my way, this is one of the best.”

She sank against him, wrapped her arms around
him. “I was so worried you’d be upset or want me to get rid of
it.”

“Not in a million years.”

They were going to have a baby together. He
was going to be a father. At the age of 63, he was going to be a
father again—if all went well.

“Let’s get you to the hospital.”

# # #

They checked in at St. Anthony’s twenty
minutes later. Jack pushed Janet in a wheelchair to a private room,
where a nurse hooked her up to a couple of different IVs. In a
matter of minutes, Janet was asleep, clearly exhausted.

Jack slipped out of the room and into the
hallway and dialed Nate’s number. How in the hell was he going to
explain this?

Nate answered on the second ring. “Is she
okay?”

“Yes, but… Well, son, she’s pregnant.”

Nate laughed. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. I’m not exactly sure how
it happened, but—”

“Now, Dad, I thought we already had this
talk.” This was followed by more laughter. “I think you breeded
Janet like Chinook—”

“Son, shut your mouth for a minute.” When
Jack was satisfied that Nate was listening, he went on. “Because of
her age and her injuries, there are a fair number of risks. She’s
got hyperemesis gravi… hell, something that makes her throw up a
lot, so they’re giving her IV fluids and some drug to stop the
nausea.”

“Poor thing. I hope it helps. Is there any
risk to her or the baby right now?”

“We have a lot of questions, but not many
answers yet.”

“God, I can’t wait to tell Megan.”

“See that you don’t tell anyone else. I want
to put a ring on her finger and walk her down the aisle before word
of this gets out so that no one can accuse her of forcing me into
marriage or say that I married her just because I got her
pregnant.”

For some reason, this made Nate laugh again.
“A father at the age of sixty-four.”

“I’m sixty-three.”

“You won’t be by the time the baby
arrives.”

“Shit.” He hadn’t thought of that.

“Seriously, congratulations, Dad. This baby
is very lucky to have you as a father. Trust me on this. I
know.”

Jack’s throat suddenly got tight. “Thanks,
son.”

# # #

Janet watched the screen, holding fast to
Jack’s hand while Dr. Fleming moved the ultrasound probe on her
lower belly.

“There’s your baby.” The doctor pointed to
the screen. “That’s its little heart. This big part here is its
head. That’s a leg. It’s moving.”

Janet stared in amazement, barely able to
speak. “It’s really real.”

Until this moment, some part of her expected
the doctor to tell her there’d been a mistake and, oh, by the way,
she actually had giardia instead.

But there it was in black and white—their
baby.

She looked up at Jack to find him staring at
the screen, a look of amazement on his face. He smiled down at her.
“You bet it’s real.”

“It’s too early to tell the sex, of course,”
Dr. Fleming said. “But you’ve decided you don’t want to know,
right?”

“We want to be surprised,” Janet
answered.

Not that they hadn’t already had a few big
surprises these past weeks.

“Let’s see if we can get a measurement here.”
Dr. Fleming pushed some buttons on the machine. “You’re measuring
at nine and a half weeks pregnant. That puts your due date on or
around June 23.”

“That’s right at the end of foaling season.”
Jack grinned, gave her hand a squeeze.

“We’ve got a strong heartbeat.” Dr. Fleming
turned on the audio.

The small, dark room filled with the rapid
thrum of a tiny beating heart.

Tears blurred Janet’s vision, spilled down
her temples. “Do you hear that?”

Jack nodded, a soft smile on his face. “I
surely do.”

She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’ve
still got so long to go. So much could go wrong. I don’t know
whether I should feel elated, cautiously optimistic, or scared to
death right now.”

Dr. Fleming laughed. “It sounds like you’re
well on your way to being a mother.”

But Jack bent down, kissed her cheek.
“Whenever life gives you the option, go with elation. That’s what
I’m feeling.”

# # #

Jack drove Janet back to her place, helped
her pack a few suitcases, and then piled them in the back of his
truck and headed home. It was early evening by the time they
reached the Cimarron. Jack drove by the main gate, kept heading up
the highway.

“Hey, aren’t we supposed to turn there?”

He gave Janet’s hand a squeeze. “I’ve got
something to show you.”

He continued up the highway, most of the snow
now melted, true autumn setting in up in the high country. He
turned off onto the dirt road that led to the high pasture, not
stopping for the cattle, which now grazed on meadow grass. Taking
care to avoid ruts, he slowly drove up the road, then made a left
onto the oldest road on the ranch, what was left of the original
homestead house about fifty yards ahead of them.

He drove up to the house, stopped, parked.
“I’ll come and help you out.”

He opened her door, helped her to the ground,
kept his arm around her, wanting to make certain she didn’t slip
and fall. “Follow me.”

“What is this place?” She looked around them,
craning to see it all—the orchard, the old barn, the outhouse, the
iron water pump.

“This is the house my grandfather built for
my grandmother when he got the crazy idea to homestead in the Rocky
Mountains.”

Most of the place was still standing, though
the paint had long since worn away, and the wood was in bad shape.
The glass windows were still intact, tattered yellow curtains
hanging in what had once been the sitting room. The chimney had
crumbled a bit, remnants of a bird’s nest showing at the top.

Jack slowly walked in a circle around the
house, holding Janet’s hand. “He came up here in 1927 with my
pregnant grandmother and a two-year-old son, who, as it happens,
was my father. He woke up one day and decided he couldn’t do right
by his family in the city. He’d fought in World War I—signed up
when he turned eighteen and ended up at the Battle of the Argonne,
saw most of his friends die. I think he needed to get away from the
noise and find peace.”

They stopped on the side of the house in full
view of the surrounding mountains.

Jack watched the awe on Janet’s face as she
took in the view, the breeze catching her dark hair, the cold
putting color back in her cheeks.

She closed her eyes, inhaled. “It is peaceful
up here and so quiet. I can’t even hear the highway.”

It made him smile to see her reaction, to see
how the land called to her. She belonged here now. She belonged
with him. But did she know that?

He would find out in a moment.

“Why did they abandon this house?”

“My grandfather picked this spot for its
beauty.” He pointed to a dead Douglas fir that had been almost
split in two by lightning, its bark blackened. “What he didn’t know
is that a load of iron ore runs right beneath it, making this
stretch of land especially prone to lightning strikes.”

She laughed. “I can see how that would be a
problem.”

“He ended up leaving this house and building
another one lower down. Theresa and I had that one razed to its
foundation and built the ranch house you see today.”

Get to the damned point, amigo.

But Janet had a half-dozen other
questions.

Were those apple trees? Did the well still
have drinkable water? What had his grandparents done in the winter
when the snow got deep? How long did it take them to get to Denver
when they needed supplies—or did they go to Scarlet Springs? What
if they had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? And,
God, what had his grandmother done when she’d had morning
sickness?

He answered as best he could, feeling more
nervous by the minute.

“I brought you up here because I wanted you
to see where it started. Whether you realize it or not, you’ve
become a part of the Cimarron now, a part of its history. I wanted
to do this a few weeks ago, before we found out you were pregnant.
It’s important to me that you understand that.”

She looked up at him, confused. “You wanted
to bring me here?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

Just get to it, damn it!

He reached into his pocket, took out the
engagement ring he’d had made for her—a two-karat oval diamond set
in platinum—then released her hand and got down on one knee. “I
love you, Janet. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. No
matter how many surprises the future brings, I want you at my side.
Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Then he realized he hadn’t opened the
box.

Jesus Christ on a crutch! Had he bungled it
like this with Theresa?

But she wasn’t looking at the box. She was
looking at him, tears in her eyes, a wobbly smile on her face. “You
finally asked me! Please stand up so I can kiss you.”

He got to his feet, and she jumped into his
arms, kissing him right on the mouth, a deep, hungry kiss. “Is that
a ‘yes’?”

“Yes, Jack, I’ll marry you.” She laughed, the
sound making his chest swell.

“Don’t you even want to see the ring first?”
He released her, opened the box, held it up for her to see.

Her eyes went wide. “Oh, my God! It’s …
beautiful
.”

He took it from the box, slid it onto her
ring finger. “I’d like to get married as soon as possible. I don’t
want anyone casting aspersions on your character or thinking I
married you only because of a baby.”

“You’re so good to me.” She wrapped her arms
around him. “Sliding off the highway was the best thing that’s ever
happened to me.”

“You didn’t know it, angel, but you were
coming home.”

As they turned to walk back to the truck, the
setting sun cleared the clouds, bathing the valley before them in
gold.

EPILOGUE

June 15

“I’m scared.” Janet looked up at Jack, the
bright lights of the operating room and the beeping of the heart
monitor adding to her anxiety.

Jack stroked her cheek, smiled down at her, a
blue surgical cap on his head. “Take a deep breath and relax,
angel. You’ve done your part. Let Dr. Fleming do his.”

Janet hadn’t wanted a C-section, but with
age, the blood pressure problems that had popped up in her third
trimester, and her pelvic injuries, Dr. Fleming had felt it would
be safest both for her and the baby. She’d talked with him about
preserving as many elements of natural birth as she could since
this would be the only time in her life she would have this
experience. But here in this moment, she just wanted it to be
over.

“Can you feel this?” Dr. Fleming asked from
the other side of a blue drape that blocked her view of the
surgery.

“No.” She couldn’t feel anything, the
epidural leaving her completely numb from the ribcage down, making
her upper body seem strangely heavy.

“We’re going to scrub down your skin, and
then you should have your baby in just a few minutes.”

Janet closed her eyes, tightened her grip on
Jack’s hand.

He leaned down, kissed her cheek. “It’s going
to be a boy.”

That made her smile. Jack had been telling
her since the beginning that the baby would be a boy. For four
generations, his family had produced only boys—well, five
generations if you counted Nate and Megan’s baby boy, Jackson,
who’d been named after his grandfather and was almost four weeks
old now.

She opened her eyes, looked up at him. “Boy
or girl—I’m happy either way.”

“So you don’t know what the baby is?” the
anesthesiologist asked from behind her surgical mask.

“We’re doing it the old-fashioned way,” Jack
answered.

“Do you want me to tell you what I’m doing?”
Dr. Fleming asked.

Janet thought about it for a moment. “Yes,
please.”

“I’m making the first incision, cutting
through the skin.”

Janet squeezed her eyes shut at the thought,
though she felt no pain.

“Easy, angel,” Jack said, his grip on her
hand firm.

“Do you have names picked out?” someone
asked.

The room seemed to be filled with people, and
Janet recognized none of them because their hair and faces were all
hidden.

“No,” The sound of Jack’s voice was soothing,
his free hand caressing her shoulder. “We thought we’d wait and see
who this little person was before naming him.”

“Or her,” Janet added.

“It’s going to be a boy.”

“I’m making an incision into your abdominal
cavity. I’m being extra careful here in case your previous surgery
left any adhesions. In a moment, you’ll feel some tugging and some
pressure. I need to make certain the incision is large enough for
your baby to get through.”