Justice Falling (29 page)

I put on my blazer and shuffled the phone from ear to ear as I put on my coat. “Where is he?”

“He’s actually not far from your office.” She read off the name of the company. I pulled it up on my laptop and stuffed everything in my briefcase that I might have needed for the rest of the afternoon.

“Okay. Got it. I’ll get the bloke. We’ll meet you at the hospital. Tell the wee one to hold off until his Dad arrives!” A loud scream tore through the phone line.

“I gotta go.” Another loud moan tore through the phone. “Love you.”

“I love you,” I said and rang off.

I headed out of the office and ran into Collier. “Aspen’s in labor. Got to go find Hank across the way. Call London,” I said as the lift doors closed.

Collier didn’t ask how I knew Aspen was in labor or why I was the one running to get Hank. He just agreed. That’s the kind of partnership we had. Often times fewer words were better than a long rant.

In fifteen minutes I’d made it to the black glass building a few city blocks from ours, hopped on the lift and pressed floor twenty five. A text sounded on my phone. I pulled it out and read the screen.

From: Aspen Reynolds-Jensen

To: Nate Walker

Where the fuck is the cowboy? Aspen’s killing me! We’ll be at Lenox Hill Hospital in ten.

It must have been Oliver. The lift doors opened and I figured I’d have Hank call as soon as I got him out of here. Quickly I found the right office and went to the receptionist. She was a mean looking woman. Thin, pinched, tight skin sucked her face like fondant over a skeleton. Her sharp blond bob and blood red lipstick added to her fierce features.

She talked as I paced. Finally, I put my hand over the button on her phone cutting off her call. “I need Hank Jensen. Now!” I growled, leaving no room for argument. Her entire face frowned. I didn’t think it was possible, but I guess if you’re a woman made of plastic, using one muscle pushes them all into motion. “Look, he’s in a meeting here somewhere and his wife is in labor. She’s on her way to the hospital. Can you help me or do I need to cause a
fucking
scene?”

Her face lightened a speck, a barely noticeable twitch. “Come with me.” She scowled then stood and walked on the highest spiked heels I’d seen this side of a strip club.

She knocked on a door and waited, then pressed her ear to the door.

“Oh sodding hell.” I gripped the handle and opened the door. Four men in suits and my man, Hank Jensen, turned their heads from the giant LCD screen and projector.

“Nate, partner?”

“We gotta go. Your wife is on her way to Lenox Hill Hospital. She’s in labor!”

Hank didn’t bother to say anything to the people in the room. “It’s too early! She’s not due for another month.” His voice sounded frightened.

“I know. Let’s go.”

We made it into a taxi in record time. Hank dialed his wife and Oliver must have picked up.

“Buddy, no, I can’t understand you. Fucking hell! Give me my wife. She’s what? Jesus, give me Cami then.”

“What’s going on, Cami?” He must have got my girl on the phone. He blew out a slow breath. “Okay, water broke, dilated to a six and eighty percent effaced.” Hank pushed a rushed hand through his sandy hair. Tension filled every surface of his face and body. “What’s the doctor say?” He took a deep breath and leaned his head back on the car seat. “We’ll be there in twenty. Stay with my girl. Ollie loves her, but he’s a fucking drama queen. Take care of her ‘till I get there. Okay, sweetie?”

For a moment my hackles rose at his endearment but I knew Hank and his heart. He genuinely cared for Camille and I’d heard him call London sweetie as well. It was his old-fashioned, Texan nature. They seemed to have the honey, baby, sweetie thing down pat.

He hung up and smacked a heavy hand against the seat back. “Get us to the hospital in ten minutes and there’s an extra hundred bucks in it for ya.” Hank said to the driver. “Got me?”

“You got it, Mister!” The young looking bloke pressed his foot on the gas.

In ten minutes flat, we were in front of the hospital. Hank threw a hundred and thirty bucks to the driver, probably making his day. We ran into the hospital and asked for labor and delivery.

I’d never run through a hospital so fast in my life, including seven months ago when my own brother was admitted. People only did this shite in the movies. Not Hank. He ran those stark white halls like a man running over hot coals. I wasn’t sure his feet hit the ground. I could barely keep up with him.

When we got to the right place, I was breathing hard but Hank was no worse for the wear. Blooming hell, how much did the bloke work out?

“Aspen Jensen! My wife!” he roared to a little thing in pink scrubs with flowers all over them.

“Room 5, one floor up in the private labor and delivery suites,” the nurse called as Hank was already on the stairs, not willing to wait for the elevator. I followed him in my slick shoes and caught myself on the railing. We had to look like a couple of bank robbers the way we busted through the stairwell door and into the top floor.

Hank found the room and heard his wife scream. “God Dammit. I fucking need Hank, right the fuck now!” she screamed at Oliver.

It was the most profanity I’d ever heard Aspen use…ever.

My lovely Camille rushed to her side with a cold cloth.

“Oh, God, that’s good. Thank you, Cami,” Aspen said, breathless.

“Angel.” The word was laced with love. Hank and his wife reached for each other. Tears poured down her face.

“Hank, she’s coming early. I don’t know why.” Aspen’s head shook from side to side and fear filled her voice. “I did everything right,” she cried.

He kissed her face over and over and finally her lips.

Camille moved off to the side with her hands over her mouth. Her own tears fell down her cheeks. My girl was such a softy.

Oliver was at the window pacing. Tripp hung outside the room, sitting in a waiting chair, twiddling his thumbs.

“Camille, love, I’m here when you’re ready,” I whispered.

She looked up. Her eyes were bright with love and happiness. She met me, grabbing her purse.

“No! Hank, no. I need her!” Aspen reached for Camille. My girl ran over and clasped both of hers around one of Aspen’s.

“It’s okay. Hank’s here,” Camille assured the suffering woman.

“Darlin’ would you feel better if you had a woman with us?” Hank asked.

She nodded and Camille smiled. “I’d be honored to stay if that’s what you want.”

“You help me so much. Please don’t leave.” Aspen begged. Another painful contraction took her over. Immediately, Camille jumped to her aid and looked over to some machine that seemed to be attached to a cord under Aspen’s gown.

“Okay, Aspen, it’s peaking.” Aspen grabbed Camille’s hand and held both hers and Hank’s. “Okay you’ve got this. Breathe in for five, out for five…that’s it. You’re coming down, it’s lessening and almost gone.” She drug out the last word. “Really great job on that one. You barely cringed.”

Aspen returned a weak smile. Camille looked at me over her shoulder.

“Baby, I’ll be right outside if you need anything. I’ll have Jin keep our son tonight, okay?”

She nodded and smiled. It was the prettiest smile on the most beautiful woman. She was in her element, helping a friend.

I looked over at the empty seat next to Tripp and sat down.

“Crazy huh?” I said. Tripp nodded but kept silent. Finally he turned and looked at me.

“Cami’s my sister?”

Chapter 19

I thought the ten hours I was in labor was long. Those ten hours passed during Aspen’s labor in what felt like an eternity of wading through a hurricane in five feet of snow wearing a pair of shorts. The last five hours were worse, utter torture on the mama, and her support team. Not one to complain, but finally, mercifully, she got an epidural. It was as if the clouds opened up, the sky turned gold, and the heavens rained down love and light on us.

Two different doctors had been in and out, consulting about the premature baby and whether or not they should do a C-section. The second doctor thought Aspen was a week or so farther along in her gestation than her regular OB/GYN. Whatever the case, she was finally at ten centimeters dilated and pushing to bring her daughter into the world.

At this stage I stayed back and allowed Hank and Oliver to each hold a leg as I stood on the sidelines with London. We hugged one another as Aspen bore down, screamed with a mighty roar, and forced her daughter’s appearance.

“Oh my God, Angel,” Hank said as they laid a doll-sized infant on Aspen’s belly, rubbing and wiping her down while the three of them looked on in awe. Hank cut the cord as the doctor directed. Pride and tears filled the big man’s eyes in equal measure as he looked at his wife and daughter.

“She’s so…gross. What is that all over her?” Oliver asked.

Aspen laughed and Hank pushed Oliver’s forehead with his palm moving him out of the way. Oliver cringed and came over to us, his arms spread wide. The three of us hugged.

“She’s perfect, Angel. Just like her Mama,” Hank said, petting his daughter’s hair with one finger. “Our baby girl, Hannah.” The three of us turned and smiled. Hannah. Such a lovely name.

London went to her sister and looked over Hank’s shoulders at their daughter, now free of all the gunk. Oliver and I peeked as well. She was lovely.

“Oh, she’s stunning!” Oliver clapped. “Baby Hannah is a super model baby already,” he gushed. “Look at her perfect pout.” I grinned and looked at the precious angel given to this wonderful couple.

“Darlin’ you did mighty fine.” Hank petted his wife’s hair then kissed her.

“Hold your daughter,” Aspen whispered, emotion thick in her tone.

He cradled the small bundle into his arms. “Daddy’s perfect girl. I love you, Hannah.” Hank kissed his daughter’s little tufts of golden hair just on the crown of her head.

I watched in awe as the huge man rocked and bonded with his daughter. I snapped a picture with the camera they’d laid on the side table. I didn’t have any pictures of Tanner this early because it was just Jin and me in the delivery room. I wanted to make sure they had some for their own memories.

“Oliver, buddy. Come meet your niece. Hannah Olivia Jensen.” Oliver looked at Aspen and she smiled. A tear slipped down his cheek. She wiped it away.

“You named her after me?”

“We love you and all your pieces. It’s our gift to you.” she told Oliver.

Oliver choked on a sob then hugged Aspen, kissing her cheeks then her forehead and briefly her lips. “Thank you. I don’t know what to say?”

“Say you’ll love her for eternity and always be there for her, like you are with me,” Aspen whispered. The room was so quiet we could all hear them.

“Until my last breath.” he promised, leaning his forehead against Aspen’s. Their bond was forged in steel and deep affection for one another. Very much like a brother and sister.

“Now let me see our baby girl all cleaned up and perfect!” He sashayed to Hank, wiping at his eyes.

“You want to hold her?” Hank offered.

Oliver looked stricken. “No I don’t want to hold her! I will do that when I’m seated on a very cushy spot, preferably a bed, with pillows all around so that she is the most safe--” Hank held his arms out and led Oliver to the chair.

“Hold your niece and shut up already,” Hank said sternly but with a huge smile.

“Such a brute,” Oliver said then cooed to the bundle in his arms.

I walked to Aspen as they finished up with the placenta and stitching. London was hugging her and gushing on how perfect the baby’s aura was.

London’s eyes caught mine. “You helped Pen so much. You really know your stuff,” she said.

I shrugged. “I’ve done it before. That helps.”

Aspen held out her hand and grasped mine. “Thank you. for everything,” she said weakly, thoroughly exhausted.

I hugged her palm to my cheek. “I loved every second. Thank you for sharing this moment with me. I’ll remember it always.”

London stayed with Aspen as Hank, Oliver and I returned to the waiting room. Hank held his daughter close to his chest. The room was filled with waiting family and friends. I could see my guy in the corner, his smile wide as he noticed me. Hank’s brood of Texans were all there smiling and waiting patiently. All, save for what I assumed was Julia Jensen, who jumped up the second Hank entered, arms out wide.

“You just set that perfect bundle right in my arms. I need to bond with my first granddaughter. What’s her name, son?”

“Aspen and I are excited to introduce all of our friends and family to Hannah Olivia Jensen. Six pounds, ten ounces, twenty inches long.” He kissed his daughter on the head once more and let his mother take hold.

Julia looked at her granddaughter then back up to her son. Pride and joy filled her gaze. “You and Aspen did mighty fine young man. She’s an angel from heaven. Our Hannah girl. The name fits her beautifully and keeps with the H names.” Behind Julia, Henry puffed his chest with pride at hearing his granddaughter’s name. I so wanted traditions like that with Nate. One day.

“You done well, son.” Henry Jensen clapped his son on the back and smiled. His features were a lot like Hank’s.

Manly back slaps followed by a round of congratulations were doted on Hank. I snapped a picture of Julia holding her grandchild as Hank’s father looked over her shoulder.

Finally, a couple dressed to the nines came up to Julia. “May I hold my first grandchild?” the man in a suit asked, his voice filled with emotion. The woman standing to the side looked exactly like an older, unhappy version of Aspen but looked on with wonder.

“Is the baby’s name hyphenated Jensen-Reynolds?” The upturned face of Aspen’s mother assessed Hank shrewdly. Her eyebrow was pointed into a fierce triangle as her lips twisted into a tight pout.

Hank shook his head. “Nope. She’s all Jensen, just like her Mama,” Hank puffed with pride.

Aspen’s mother rolled her eyes and sighed. “Well, she looks just like my daughter. She’s very beautiful.”

“That she is, Ma’am.”

After a few minutes of introductions, Hank took his precious bundle and announced that he had to get back to his wife. He thanked everyone for coming. He’d be in touch when they were home and settled in.