Eclipse of the Heart (31 page)

"You weren't kidding," the pink-clad nurse said,
"when you told us the contractions were only two to three minutes apart.
This baby is going to be born fast."

Amanda focused on the nurse's badge. Gwen. "Where
is—the baby's grandmother, Gwen?" Amanda tried to breathe, but she needed
Mrs. MacDonald.

"She's on the phone," another voice said from the
doorway. A male nurse looked in. Gwen hustled over and walked out of the room,
but Amanda could hear them plainly, talking in the doorway.

"Tell grandma to get off the phone," Gwen said.
"The baby is going to come any minute."

"Is there anyone else?" the male nurse asked.
Really, did he think his voice didn't carry?

"Not that I've seen," Gwen said dryly. "No
sign of a father."

Amanda's heart broke. She'd deprived Logan of this moment.
Even if he didn't want her, he should have had the right to see his child come
into the world.

Then pain spiked in her, and when she'd gotten through it,
Mrs. M. was leaning over her, pressing a cool washcloth to her forehead. Gwen
leaned over from the other side. "The doctor will be here in a minute.
It's time to push."

Amanda didn't want to push. Something was not right. She'd
made a huge mistake and she needed to fix it before it couldn't be fixed. But
pain was overtaking all else and making her weak. She couldn't think of what
she needed to do and so she pushed when they told her to. She tried to rest
when she wasn't pushing. The pain continued. Five minutes stretched into ten.

Ten minutes stretched into an hour. Two hours.

"It's too late for an epidural," someone said in a
low voice. "She has to keep pushing."

She was so tired.
Too tired to be
stubborn.
Too tired to be proud.
Tears leaked
out of her eyes as she faced the truth.

She wanted Logan. She wanted him here to comfort her, even
though she knew he didn't have the ability to offer comfort.

Her anger and resentment had vaporized. Whether because of
Mrs. MacDonald's revelations, or due to the fact that she was so exhausted and emotional,
she didn't know. The reason didn't matter. She wanted his calm capability, his
straight-eyed gaze,
his
heated warmth, beside her.

A long moan escaped her.

"I see the baby crowning," a female voice said
excitedly.

A commotion sounded at the door, someone arguing, and a deep
voice answering.

Amanda opened her eyes in shock. Was she hallucinating? She
cast an agonized look at Mrs. MacDonald. But she was afraid to ask anything.
She wanted to hang onto this thread of hope for as long as possible.

Logan Winter strode into the room.

His clean pine scent cut through the clotted hospital
smells.

"Thank God," Mrs. MacDonald said. "He made
it."

Amanda stared, even as her lower body writhed in agony.

Logan grabbed her hand. "You're doing great," he
said, his deep voice soothing.
"Just a few more
minutes."

She held his gaze, as if he held the power of life.
"The baby," she whispered. "How is the baby doing?" That's
really all she wanted to know, but fear had prevented her from asking.

Logan gave her strength to voice her fear. She didn't know
why or how. She just knew it was true.

"The baby is fine," he said with certainty deep in
his voice. "You're fine. You've done all the hard work already.
Just a little bit more."

Emotion washed through her.
Reassurance.
Comfort.
A tiny kernel of joy.
She didn't know why he was here. She knew his presence was not an answer to the
problems that still awaited her.

But it was right for him to be present.

In a sweeping rush, their daughter was born.

Amanda held her daughter to her breast. For several long
minutes, she was lost in joy and wonder.
Until she became
aware of Logan, still sitting quietly beside her.

He wasn't holding her hand any longer. Sudden doubt flooded
her. Had it all been a charade—his appearance, his care and concern?
A show of comfort to ease her through the pain of childbirth?

Then she caught his gaze, and had to flinch back from what
she saw.

Hunger.
Naked and
vulnerable.
His hands were clasped tightly between his spread knees, as
if they might do something inappropriate if let loose. But he wanted to reach
for his daughter.

Her heart contracted.

Even if he didn't know it, he wanted to love again.

And she would have to be the one to offer him the gift of
love. No matter what the cost to herself.

The price would be high. Now that he was here with her
again, she knew she'd never stopped loving him. She'd let pride and
stubbornness blind her to the truth, but the truth never changed.

Her love would trap her in a lifetime of pain. She'd hurt
every time she saw him, and in all the moments between his visits.

But, if she truly loved him, she had to do this for him.

She hugged her baby for one last time as a unit of two.
Mother and daughter.

A final reality washed over her.

She would also make this effort for her baby, who deserved a
father.

Amanda drew in a deep breath of courage.

She lifted the baby she held in the crook of her arm, so
Logan could see her face.

"Oh, my God."
His words
came out reverently, like a prayer. "Amanda." He raised his eyes to
hers. "You don't have to want me. But I need this baby." He stopped,
swallowed, and blinked rapidly.

She handed over their daughter.

"Thank you," he murmured in his deep voice.
"She's so beautiful."

Tears spurted in Amanda's eyes. She knew she had to broach
this subject now, while his defenses were down."I want to name her
Laura," she said.

Logan's jaw dropped, and he immediately buried his face
against the baby's head. A long moment of silence stretched between them.

When he finally looked up, his expression made her want to
cry. "You know," he said, his voice low.

"Mrs. MacDonald told me this morning."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I have never talked
about it."

"I understand. Some things don't get any better with
talk." Her father flashed through her mind. No words would bring him back,
or lessen the grief she felt. At least she had her mom and Julie. How much
worse the loss must have been for Logan.

A nurse approached. "We need to clean up the
baby." She held out her arms. "I'll bring her right back, I
promise."

Mrs. MacDonald stood up. "I'll go with you. It'll be
good to stretch my legs."

Amanda could see Logan's reluctance as he handed over his
daughter. He watched them leave the room before turning back to Amanda.
"My sister's name was Lauren," he said. "You know that,
right?"

"Mrs. MacDonald told me. She was a singer, she
said."

He nodded.
"Up and coming rock
star."
He knotted his hands together. "My parents were
professional musicians.
Symphony caliber.
They played
for the Boston Pops."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Logan." The words were
inadequate, but they still needed to be said.

"You know that night you gave me the blow job?"

She nodded, trying to remain calm, but her heart thundered.
His eyes were bleak, his mouth strained. He wasn't remembering sex.

"That was the anniversary of their deaths." He
swallowed a bitterness that twisted his mouth. "I always visit the
cemetery near Boston."

 "Logan," she whispered. There was nothing to
say in the face of such pain.

"The graves—" He bowed his head. "It was all
I had left."

"You told me Mrs. MacDonald visited her husband at the
same time," she whispered. "They all died together.
How awful."
Amanda remembered him saying, "She has
farther to go." As if any part of their sorrow could be measured. But that
was the way his analytical mind worked, counting and weighing.

He'd weighed love, and found it wanting.
Too
much pain.
Not enough gain. So he'd cut it out of his life. She
understood perfectly now why he paid women for sex. If he put his relationships
all on a financial footing, there would be no need for emotion to play a part.
He would never have to be drawn into love again, nor into the hurt that love
could produce.

"I've thought about it often," he murmured.
"How I took that one chance with you, not using a rubber, when I never had
before. Was that my body's way of insisting that I get on with life? Or am I
making too much of a basic sexual urge?"

"You thought I was on the pill."

"That's never been enough for me not to take other
precautions."

"I found out that the pill doesn't always work when
you're on antibiotics," Amanda admitted. "I should have known."

"I'm sorry I blamed you." He laid a hand on her
bed. "I should have been less judgmental. I knew you well enough to know you
wouldn't trap anyone like that."

A nurse walked into the room, pushing Laura in a plastic
cart on wheels. "All set," she announced cheerfully. "Does
anyone want to hold her?"

The eagerness in Logan's face made Amanda want to cry again.
He wanted someone to love so badly.

"Let her dad hold her," she said softly.
"I've had her for almost nine months."

Logan took the baby carefully. His big hands curved gently
around his daughter.

"She's so tiny," he said, his voice low.
"So vulnerable."

"She's your future."

He raised his eyes to hers. "What if I can't protect
her?"

"There are no guarantees. You're not God."

Logan leaned close enough to wrap an arm around Amanda. He
lifted Laura in his other arm. "Look at the miracle we made. It's
impossible to feel any regret now."

A few tears leaked from Amanda's eyes. "Do you mean
that, Logan?"

"Of course I do."

"I want you to be in Laura's life." She turned her
head to look into his eyes. "But I could never expose her to you if you
didn't love her. If you believe you can't, please let us go. We'll be
fine."

"I'm terrified of loving her," he admitted.
"I swore I would never allow myself that emotion again."

"I know that now." Amanda wanted to cry in
earnest, but she wouldn't do it. No wonder he'd always tried to push her away.
She understood now, even if she didn't like it. He'd learned that love could
carry a huge emotional price.

"But I've learned a lot since you got pregnant,"
he said quietly. "Mostly I've learned how I feel about you."

He looked into her eyes with the strong, steady gaze she
adored. "I love you," he said. "Can you give me another
chance?"

She clutched the sheets, trying to ground herself against
the hope rising in her heart.
"A chance for what,
Logan?"

"For all of it."
His half
smile touched his lips.
"Love, marriage and the baby
carriage."

Amanda gasped. "Marriage?" she squeaked. Where had
that come from?

Logan looked surprised. "What did you think I
wanted?"

"Sex?"
The word emerged
without conscious thought from her.

He grinned. "That would definitely be part of it. Hell,
the second I laid eyes on you, I wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck you.
That hasn't changed."

Amanda stared at him. "You did? You sure hid it
well."

"I don't wear my heart on my sleeve." He pulled
her tighter. "I don't think I ever will. But I hope you know
,
every beat of my heart is for you."

One month after Laura's birth, Amanda, Logan, and the baby
made the move back to Manhattan on a beautiful fall day. They stopped once on the
trip from Cape Cod so that Amanda could nurse Laura. Logan and Felipe went into
the rest area and returned with snacks and hot coffee. Amanda enjoyed the cozy
pleasure of holding Laura, smelling her sweet baby scent, and listening to
Logan's deep voice as he talked quietly on his phone. When Amanda was finished,
Logan turned off his cell and held Laura, while Amanda buttoned up her shirt.
Logan's gaze on her was hot.

"It's a good thing I love that baby," he said.
"Or I'd be jealous of her."

Amanda giggled. "You're good for my ego."

"Your new boobs are good for my imagination." He
settled the baby in her car seat and then sat next to Amanda, wrapping a strong
arm around her and pulling her close. "I have a surprise for you." He
signaled Felipe that they were ready to go.

Amanda snuggled against him with a sigh of happiness.
"Another one?"
He'd already surprised her with a
small wedding on the Cape one week after Laura's birth. Her mom and Julie had
made it home just in time. "Is it something to do with my new job?"
she asked. "Have I thanked you for that?" She'd been so busy with
everything – the new baby, visiting with her mom and sister, packing up to
return to the city.

"No need for thanks." Logan squeezed her shoulder.
"I couldn't find anyone better than you to run Rosie's new venture."

Amanda sighed. "I still feel badly about what happened
with Daily Eats. The Molloys will never think kindly of me."

"The Molloys love us," he said. "I found
another buyer for them."

"You did?" She straightened up to stare at him.
"Who?"

"I asked around over the summer and someone introduced
me to a company that makes specialty foods. They were looking to extend their
brand to kids' stuff." He grinned. "I pocketed a finder's fee, and
everyone was happy."