Righteous Lies (Book 1: Dancing Moon Ranch Series) (24 page)

Odd that Sam
and Jack had married women who were alike in so many ways. Both self-possessed,
both beautiful, neither feeling a bond with their infants. She could also
imagine Susan smothering Marc in a blind rage if he were colicky and crying,
and Susan was exasperated because he wouldn't stop. Still, she had to bite her
lip to keep from asking Susan why she couldn't be the one to give Marc his
formula, just to hear what Susan would say.

Jack, who until
now had been standing behind Grace while holding Adam in his arms, said to Susan,
"I called Mom this morning and she said she'd reschedule her trip to visit
her cousin and be at the ranch to help with the baby and Ricky for a couple of
months."

Grace glared at
Jack. She was perfectly capable of looking after both babies, but Jack wanted
to make sure she only looked after the one he was holding. "That's not
necessary," she told him. "We can move the nursery furniture Susan
and Sam have into Adam's room. It's a big bedroom, and since the babies are on
the same schedule, it won't be any problem."

"There's
no need," Jack said. "Mom plans to be there."

"She
didn't need to cancel her trip," Grace insisted.

The muscles in
Jack's jaws bunched. "Yeah, but she did, and that's that."

No. That was
not that, Grace decided. Turning to Sam, she said, "When do you expect to
hear from the lab?"

"Any time
now," Sam replied in a glum voice. "I imagine they'll call."
To let them know the baby wasn't a match
,
were the words Sam didn't say, but everyone was thinking.

Grace looked at
Adam, nestled in the crook of Jack's arm, and at Marc, who was cuddled in hers
while looking up at her, and wondered what she'd do if she learned that one of these
precious babies had to be placed on a waiting list in hopes of finding a cure
for a blood disorder. A sobering thought that brought a little more
understanding of what Sam and Susan were going through. Not an excuse for Susan
not wanting her second son, but just a little more clarity.

Wanting to feel
Jack's solid strength—a kind of assurance that nothing would ever happen to
either of the babies—she moved to stand beside him and looked up at him. Jack
held her gaze for a moment, then adjusted his big palm around Adam, curved his
arm around her and Marc, and pulled them against him. And Grace sensed he was
finally beginning to accept the fact that Marc might be joining their family. But
she didn't want Marc to be just hers. She wanted him to be every bit as much
Jack's as Adam was. But that could only come from Jack.

A few minutes
later the man from the lab showed up in the doorway, the same man who'd
delivered the news about Adam, although his face was not that of someone
bringing bad news. It wasn't exactly good either. They waited for him to speak.

He gave them a
kind of half smile. "We don't have a complete HLA match," he said,
"but we think we can still restore bone marrow function in your son by
using a new process that's been tried with success, and that's with the use of
expanded cord blood cells. There's a 64-fold increase in the number of
hematopoietic cells when cord blood is expanded, so donated cells don't have to
be perfectly matched to the patient."

"Wait a
minute," Sam said. "You're telling us there's a chance."

The man nodded.
"A typical unit of cord blood contains less than 200,000 stem cells per
kilogram of body weight of the recipient, in contrast to six million cells when
expanded. Using expanded cells also decreases the risk of death in the
recipient because they give rise to white blood cells and other components of
the blood more quickly."

"Then
we'll do it," Sam said. "What do we have to sign?"

"Well,
that's another issue." They all waited. "The cost," the man
said. "Because it's considered experimental, it's not covered by insurance,
and the out-of-pocket cost is usually more than most families can afford."

"My
brother and I will cover the cost," Jack said. "Where do we
sign?"

The man placed
the folder he'd been holding on the bedside stand and opened it. Removing a
bundle of papers, he said, "Read the documents so you understand the risks
involved. And there's a financial statement. I'll run credit checks on both of
you and add your name to the financial statement," he said to Jack.
"As soon as you drop the signed documents off at the lab our technicians
will start preparing the blood and you can start your son on chemotherapy to
get him ready for transplant," he said to Sam.

"How long
until we know if it works?" Sam asked.

The man smiled.
"That's the good part. On average it takes two weeks for expanded cells to
begin to engraft as compared to four weeks for non-expanded units, which means
less chance for infection. The survival rate's similar to bone marrow
transplants."

"So, two
weeks after our son's finished chemo, he could start to build new bone
marrow?" Sam asked.

The man nodded.
"Cord blood cells haven't specialized so they're able to become whatever
cells the body needs—red cells to carry oxygen, white cells to fight disease,
platelets to help blood clot. Expanded cells just give more to get the job done
quicker."

"Why
didn't you suggest this with the other baby?" Sam asked, glancing at Adam.

"We found
no HLA match at all. Not a trace," the man said to Sam. "The fact
that we found them with your son is a miracle. Somehow the father of that baby
had the markers that matched. A one-in-a-million occurrence."

Grace looked at
the baby in her arms. Marc's baby. His legacy. A legacy not only to a little
boy who now had a chance to lead a normal life, but to her, a little bit of Marc
for her to love and care for and hopefully raise as her own...

"May I hold
my baby?" Susan asked.

Grace looked at
Susan, who had, until now, wanted nothing to do with her newborn infant, and
saw a look of possessiveness on her face. And all Grace could do was pass Marc's
baby into Susan's outstretched arms...

***

Hours after they'd
delivered the signed papers to the laboratory and settled into the Hilton, with
both babies sleeping in hotel cribs after being nursed, Grace found herself tearing
up at odd moments. She'd tried to keep it from Jack, but this time she
couldn't.

"You just
don't understand," she said. "Susan only wants Marc because he's of
use to Ricky. But he should have been my baby from the start."

"Just like
Adam should have been hers," Jack reminded her.

Which made
Grace mad. "That's entirely different," she snapped. "I love
Adam. He's mine too. Susan never wanted him either. He was only a means to an
end. Just like Marc is now." She plucked a tissue from the box beside the
bed and dabbed her eyes. "You've got to talk to Sam. At least tell him we
want to adopt Marc. Once they get home and Susan's focused on Ricky and Marc
starts crying and demanding her time, she could hurt him. She could kill
him!" Tears started flowing again.

"Honey,
stop." Jack pulled Grace into his arms and held her. "There's nothing
we can do right now. We'll just have to wait and see what happens."

"You said
we," Grace said into Jack's broad chest. She raised her head and looked at
Jack through a blur of tears. "Are you with me in this now?"

Jack looked at
her long and hard, then crooked a finger beneath her chin, and said, "If
you think you can handle both babies... Yes, I'm willing to raise Marc along
with Adam."

"But can
you love him too?" Grace asked, her voice wavering. "Maybe not love
him as much as you love Adam, since he's not your son... Well, he's actually
the son of a man I once loved. But at least love him like you would an adopted
son."

"Honey, if
we take Marc he'll be every bit as much my son as Adam. The little guy's
already getting to me." Jack looked down at the baby, who had just opened
his eyes and was staring at Jack, as if he understood what Jack had said, which
made Grace and Jack laugh in ironic acknowledgement. Then Jack carefully lifted
Marc out of his crib, supporting his wobbly head with his hand, and held him
against his chest and said, while looking down at him, "Yeah, I can love
him too."

All Grace could
hope for now was that Susan would
not
bond with her baby. The image Maureen painted the day she talked about Lauren
holding a pillow over Jack's son's face could not be dismissed, and the threat
to Marc was real.

After finishing
dinner, which room service delivered, Grace nursed and changed the babies,
taking time to cuddle each, then placed them in their cribs. Jack sat in the
middle of the king-size bed, bare-chested and wearing sweats, TV remote in his
hand, flipping channels and having trouble finding something that held his
attention. He didn't have a TV at his house. Their house, Grace corrected,
though the reality of being married to Jack still hadn't settled in completely
and wouldn't until the marriage was consummated. But whereas consummation would
bring a new level of intimacy to their marriage, it wouldn't make her a wife
Jack married because he loved her. He'd married her because it was the right
thing to do.

Seeing Jack's
discontent, whether from boredom at being trapped in a hotel room when he was
used to mountains and wide-open spaces, or because the reality of their
marriage had settled in and he realized he was sole provider for a wife, a son,
and the prospect of yet another son, she sat beside him on the bed, took the
remote from his hand and clicked off the TV, then scooted up against him. Jack
curved his arm around her, more an obligatory reaction than a voluntary one,
Grace thought. Still, she rested her hand on his belly. When he said nothing,
just sat staring at the blank TV, she said, "Have I been putting too much
pressure on you?"

"It's the
situation," Jack replied, which didn't answer her question.

That word again,
though she wouldn't point it out this time. But even with Jack's arm around
her, and her hand on his belly, she felt the tension between them. It started
when she insisted Marc be brought to her hospital room then proceeded to nurse
both babies together. Even though Jack said he could love Marc the way he loved
Adam, he'd been reticent since, a reminder of the man he'd been before she
moved into his house and began to build a life with him. But even then, they'd
had some intimate moments, like in the hallway after her shower, when he'd held
her breasts, and later when he came to her bedroom, and laying with her, took
care of her need.

She wanted
intimacy with Jack, and she knew he needed it, especially now, when he was
troubled. "You have a wife," she said moving her hand over his taut
belly above the waistband of his sweats, allowing her fingers to tuck inside.
"You don't have to live like a monk now. I can take your mind off things.
Let me do this for you."

Jack looked
down at her, eyes hooded, nostrils flaring, and when he made no effort to stop
her, she slipped her hand inside his sweats. Jack let out a series of low,
throaty sounds that seemed to vibrate in his chest as she tried to give him the
greatest pleasure she could, under the circumstances. She also knew, from his
quick, explosive response, that circumcision had not deadened his senses. After
his breathing settled into normalcy, she kissed him on the cheek and said,
"Feel better now?"

Jack gave her a
lopsided smile. "Yeah."

While Jack
showered, Grace changed into her nightgown and sat with the bed covers pulled
up to her waist, and her back propped against a mound of pillows, watching a
movie on TV while waiting for Jack. Although it was too early to sleep, she
wanted to snuggle up against him again. Nothing more. She'd had way too many
people prodding between her legs to want Jack to do what he'd done before. But
the time would come, and when it did, she'd be ready.

Jack emerged
from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, which he dropped
before slipping under the covers. "You might as well know I don't wear
anything when I sleep," he said, pulling the covers around his waist.

"I can
live with that," Grace replied, cozying up to him. She handed him the
remote. "It's
Pretty Woman
. You
can switch channels if you want." She ran her hand over his bare chest and
made a meandering path down his rib cage and a circle over his belly, her hand
coming to rest around a large, immovable object. "You ready again so
soon?" she asked.

"Yeah,"
Jack said. And smiled broadly.

Grace tossed
the covers back, and said, "You know everything about my anatomy, so now I
intend to educate myself about the structure of a circumcised male."

Jack let out a
throaty grunt. "Then you'd better get a towel or something because things
are about to—"

The phone rang.

"Oh
hell!" Jack said, grabbing Grace's hand to stop what was about to happen.
He dropped his legs over the side of the bed and reached for the phone.

Grace listened
to the one-sided conversation...

"Yeah...
Sam, what gives...? He'll start it tomorrow...? That's good, close by... Yes,
of course we can...
 
Now...? It's pretty
late... Yeah, I suppose... No, it's no problem..."

After Jack hung
up, he said, "Sam rented an apartment for six weeks and Ricky starts chemo
tomorrow. They want us to take Marc back with us, and I said we would."

Tears of joy filled
Grace's eyes. She'd have Marc for six weeks. Six weeks for Jack to accept him
as a full member of the family, and six weeks for Susan to focus all of her
attention on Ricky and cut whatever fragile tie might be connecting her to Marc.

"But
there's one problem," Jack said. He reached over and took her hand in his,
and Grace was immediately filled with trepidation. "Susan wants us to
bring Marc to her tonight. She wants to hold him for a little while... and also
introduce him to Ricky."