The Convenient Cowboy (10 page)

Hours—minutes?—later, the nausea eased enough that Olympia could move her head and reposition herself. She hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary today. She and Cal had worked with Pasquale, to Cal’s delight. The kid just wanted to be normal, not some pasty-faced geek. She’d been careful—helmet, boots and long pants—and Pasquale had been a lamb. Maybe she should offer him to Jessie for her program. When Olympia was on the road with the rodeo, she wouldn’t be able to have stock that didn’t earn its keep.

Oh, God, it was starting again. The wave of sickness roiled through her. She clamped her mouth closed on the queasiness and the increasing ache in her back. Then, suddenly and blessedly, the nausea got better.

She curled back into her ball, protecting her belly and easing the ache in her back. Could she get Spence to give her a massage? No. That was playing with fire. Even as miserable as she was, the thought of his hands on her made her remember their nights in bed—not many, but enough to store up a list of amazing memories. Her mom had never been sick like this, which might explain why she’d done it four times. Olympia couldn’t imagine how she was going to get through this one.

Her guts tightened in fear. Was she losing the baby? Was that why she was so sick? She’d kept saying she didn’t want Peanut, but... She’d been at the doctor’s just two weeks ago, and they’d both been pronounced healthy. She sucked in a deep breath. She’d seen a program on the morning news that deep breathing cured nearly everything from nausea to depression to cancer...or something. Breathe in, breathe out. She told herself to concentrate on that and not the heaving that had started in her stomach again. If she could just relax, the sharp pains radiating out from her back and down the front of her thighs would go away, too.

“Olympia,” Spence said softly from the doorway. “I have the seltzer and a buttered tortilla.” He clinked the ice in the glass.

“No,” she said, but it came out on a sharp cry as the pain shot through her.

“Where does it hurt?” he asked, hurrying across the small room. “Is it the baby?”

No. It
had
to be something else.

“Talk to me,” he said, his face close to hers, his fingers interlaced with hers over her belly. “If you can’t tell me what’s going on, I’m calling 911.”

“No,” she protested. “I’m fine. Just all that chocolate.”

He stood up and looked down at her, his face set in lines she couldn’t read. “Drink your seltzer.”

“Not now.”

He set the drink on the bedside table and left the room. She closed her eyes, telling herself that being alone was what she wanted. She needed to remember that this was all pretend and temporary. They were not a couple. Cal was not her little boy. She tried to laugh, and it ended on a gasp as another pain rolled through her. Could she make it to the kitchen where she kept her aspirin? What had the doctor told her she could take? Her brain was muzzy from the pain and the nausea, except that little part that insisted something was wrong. She told the scaredy-cat voice to shut up. But, oh, God, she hurt. A sharp pain tightened her stomach. She tried to sit up and another one hit her. She curled tighter. No. Not the baby. She didn’t want to lose the baby.

* * *

“S
OMETHING
’
S
WRONG
, P
AYSON
,” Spence said frantically but quietly into his cell so Calvin and Rickie wouldn’t hear. The two of them were sprawled on the broken-down couch in the living room, watching a cartoon that was probably inappropriate. His blood pulsed hard in his ears, making it difficult to hear what his brother was saying.

“Spence,” Payson’s voice came through, harsh and loud. “Call the ambulance. Don’t fool around with this. It sounds like something more than morning sickness. Get off the phone and call now. Once you do that—”

Spence hung up and dialed 911. He didn’t care that his voice wavered as he described the situation and their address. The operator explained that it would take extra time for an ambulance because of a string of accidents on the 10 and a large fire in the historic Presidio district. She suggested calmly that he call the doctor, too.

He hung up and called Olympia’s obstetrician, reaching the after-hours operator, barely able to write down the on-call service number. His hands were shaking badly. He tried the number, and the operator who answered said the doctor would get back to him as soon as possible. “How soon is that?” Spence snapped.

“As soon as she can,” the operator said soothingly.

He hung up on her, too.

“An ambulance is on the way,” he said as he entered Olympia’s bedroom. Instead of lying in a fetal ball, she had gotten herself sitting, hunched over and holding her belly.
Oh, God, it’s worse
.

“Spence,” she groaned, her voice little more than a whisper. “I think it’s the baby.”

“I know.” He shot across the room and pulled her into his arms. “I know. The ambulance may take... I called Payson...your doctor...”

Olympia sucked in a breath and hissed out a moan as every muscle in her body tightened.

They couldn’t wait. She was losing the baby now. He had to get her to the hospital. He slid his hands under her knees to pick her up, and she struggled. “Shh. It’s all right. We’re going to take my truck. We’ll be there faster than any ambulance.”

“I can walk.”

“No. You can’t. You can’t even straighten up.”

“Aah...” she moaned, a long, deep sound that made the hairs on the back of his neck lift. No more talking. He hurried to the truck and laid her in the king cab before going back for Calvin. The little boy for once didn’t say anything, but his eyes were round and frightened. Rickie kept quiet, too. He didn’t even suggest that she stay at the house.

“She’ll be fine. It’s just that all the ambulances are tied up. They said to take her instead of waiting,” he lied. “I’m sure it’s something silly.”

Calvin and Rickie both crawled into the back with Olympia. Spence couldn’t listen to the soothing comments his son made or he’d end up bawling like a lost calf.

This baby may have started as a mistake, but that didn’t mean Spence didn’t want her...or him. His hands white-knuckled the steering wheel as he raced to the hospital. Why hadn’t the doctor called back? She should meet them at the hospital.
Damn.
He’d forgotten the phone. His fear moved close to panic.

“Daddy,” Calvin said, his voice quavering. “Limpy’s crying.”

“Hurry up. Can’t this stupid truck go faster?” Rickie said in a shaky voice.

“It’s okay. She’ll be okay.” Now Spence could hear Olympia’s whimpers, and he pushed harder on the accelerator, cursing when they got stopped at another traffic signal.

“Stop swearing,” Olympia croaked. “You’re freaking out Cal. Even Rickie doesn’t know some of those.”

“Sorry, buddy,” he said, looking in the rearview mirror at the big eyes of his son. “It’ll be all right. Just a few more minutes, then the doctors will take care of everything.”

“I don’t want the baby to die,” Calvin said.

“That won’t happen. I won’t let it happen. That’s what daddies do. They make sure nothing bad happens, so you don’t need to worry.”

“That’s not the way it works,” Rickie said quietly.

Spence glanced one more time in the mirror, wanting to reassure Rickie. To reassure himself. He made a sharp right to get off the main drag, hoping that the backstreets and alleys would get him to the hospital faster. He couldn’t lose their baby. He couldn’t lose Olympia. Somewhere over the past two months, they’d gotten lodged in his heart as firmly as Calvin was. The thought of anything happening to them made adrenaline-laced fear fill every one of his cells.
Get them to the hospital. Now.

Chapter Ten

The tight grip of Calvin’s hand on hers and the quiet but constant swearing from Spence took Olympia’s mind off her own pain and fear. She might not want to be a mom, but that didn’t mean she wanted anything to happen to little Peanut. She clutched at her middle, hoping to hold everything just where it was. She felt a ripple of muscle. Contractions? No. Not labor. She had months and months to go.

“Ten minutes,” Spence said over his shoulder as he raced through residential neighborhoods, ignoring stop signs and one ways. God, she hoped they survived the trip.

Cal squeezed her hand again as another wussy whimper escaped her. She smiled at him. “I’m okay. Just what happens when you have chocolate poisoning.”

“Poison,” he gasped.

“Shut up, Limpy,” her sister snapped, her eyes slits of fear and anger. “Don’t joke.”

“Sorry,” Olympia said in a hoarse whisper. “But I bet if Cal did a search he could find out how much chocolate is deadly.” She turned her head so her sister and Cal wouldn’t see the tears that leaked out of her eyes.

Rickie pounded on the back of Spence’s seat and yelled, “Hurry. She’s delirious.”

Olympia closed her eyes as the pain no longer had a start or stop. Her back, her thighs, everything from her breastbone south hurt with a cramping ache ten times worse than a charley horse.

* * *

“M
RS
. M
AC
C
ORMACK
.” O
LYMPIA
cracked her eyes open as a woman shouted into her face.

“Olympia,” she corrected.

“Olympia. You’re at Tucson General. We just need to get you set up on an IV. But you need to keep your eyes open.”

“Why?” Olympia asked, closing her eyes against the pain.

“Olympia. Open up,” the woman insisted.

Olympia forced her lids upward and the room swam. She swallowed. “The baby.”

“You’re both okay. Once the doctor sees the scan, we’ll know more. Right now, we’re giving you something that should stop the contractions. You’re lucky you didn’t wait any longer to come in, or we might not have—”

“I don’t care,” Spence’s voice rang out. “She’s my wife.” All-American, boy-next-door Spence looked like something between an avenging angel and a serial killer as he bulled his way into her room. She held her shaking hand out to him and he grabbed hold, the warmth of his palm anchoring her.

“Mr. MacCormack, I need to—”

“You can do it while I’m here.” Spence’s gaze locked on hers, the dusty-blue desert eyes steady but dark with as much pain as her own heart felt.

“The baby...”

“The baby is fine.” His other hand snaked out and onto her abdomen. “The doctors said they can stop the labor.”

“Labor?”

“The backaches, the nausea...it was early labor.”

“Oh,” she said, looking at the bag of liquid dripping into her arm.

“Medication to stop the contractions, then we’ll see where we stand.” His hand tightened on hers, and now she saw the brightness of tears in his eyes.

“Spence, I’m scared.” That hadn’t been what she’d meant to say.

He pulled her into his arms. “Me, too, but I’m not going to let our baby die. No matter what, I won’t let anything happen to you or our baby.”

She wanted to hug him back, but her arms were so heavy and the IV wouldn’t let her move. “Promise.” She heard the nurses saying something, but she wasn’t letting him go.

“Promise. Cross my heart. Stick a needle in my eye.”

She tried to smile. Then Spence leaned over to kiss her forehead. As she drifted off, the nurse scolded him, while Spence went all lawyer on her ass...hiney.

* * *

“M
R
. M
AC
C
ORMACK
,
YOUR
SON
...
”

Spence turned toward the voice and saw Calvin and Rickie standing by a woman in scrubs. The little guy’s cheeks glistened with tears, and Rickie’s face shone white in the harsh lighting. Spence opened his arms to both of them. Calvin slammed into him, sobs shaking his thin, fragile body. Rickie buried her face into his shoulder. Spence’s own eyes burned with tears, too. He feared giving into his own barely checked sobs because if he started, there’d be no way he could stop.
Dad up.

“It’s okay, buddy,” he said, patting his son’s narrow back. “Rickie, she’s going to be fine.”

“Limpy and the baby—” Calvin started.

“They’re getting medicine right now. The doctors are going to make them better.” God, he hoped so.

“Are you sure, Daddy?”

“How the hell can you be sure?” Rickie barked.

“No swearing.” He steadied himself. “Olympia is napping right now. We’ll see her in just a little bit.” Calvin snuggled into Spence, grasping him tighter, but the sobs had stopped. Spence maneuvered them out of the room, and Rickie stepped away, wiping at her face. He crouched down and rocked Calvin as he’d done when he was a baby, when his breathing had sometimes gotten stuck because of his heart. When he heard the little boy squeak, Spence loosened his tight hold.

“Mr. MacCormack,” a female voice said from his right. “We need to get the insurance information now that your wife is settled.”

Spence stood slowly and picked Calvin up, the little boy’s legs and arms wrapping around him. Calvin hadn’t let him hold him like this since he’d had his surgery. Once again, they both needed that comfort. He wanted to do the same for Rickie, but she stood stiffly beside him. He’d get the paperwork done, then he’d call Lavonda to come get the kids. He’d beg Jessie’s sister to stay at the ranch to keep Rickie in line, look after Calvin and take care of the stock while he and Olympia were at the hospital.

* * *

A
FTER
GETTING
ONLY
snatches of sleep on the foldout torture chair beside Olympia’s bed, Spence’s eyelids rasped like sandpaper. His stand-up-to-anything cowgirl looked small in the bed, a doctor staring sternly down at her. Color had made its way back into her face, but she lay too quietly. Her meek compliance worried Spence. He didn’t totally believe she’d be fine.

“We’re out of the woods for right now. The baby is safe,” the doctor said.

Olympia clutched at Spence’s hand.

“But,” Dr. Neiman said, her small dark eyes narrowed, “you were lucky. I’m putting you on complete bed rest. We’ll keep you in the hospital another day to make sure the contractions have stopped and your cervix hasn’t opened, then you can go home.”

“Bed rest,” Olympia said.

“Yes. That means the only time your feet are on the floor is when you have to use the bathroom. Not to check on your horses, not to make a meal, nothing else. You need to keep the baby in there.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Spence said. Why was she arguing? “You’ll do what she says. I know that you didn’t want this baby—”

“I would never do anything to hurt the baby.” Her hand stroked her belly. “It’s just that I know I’m not mom material. Peanut would be better off without me.”

Dr. Neiman cut in. “No arguing. This is a very serious situation, Olympia. You,” the doctor said pointing at Spence, “need to get home and get some sleep. You’re exhausted. You need to see your son, calm down her sister, who’s called here no less than twenty times, and get the house ready for Olympia to come home. Can her sister help with your son and the horses?”

“A friend is coming in.” He closed his eyes for a moment and swayed, catching himself on the bed.

The doctor laid a long cool hand on his forearm and said softly, “She’s fine. The baby’s fine. Remember that when she goes a little crazy cooped up in the bed.”

“Okay.” He didn’t know what else to say and feared that if he said much more he’d start crying—not the best way to convince the doctor or Olympia that he was a competent male head of household.

“You can go. Rickie can come and get me. I know you can’t afford to miss any work,” Olympia said as soon as the doctor walked out.

“I’ve got time.” Bald-faced lie, but she didn’t need to know that. This was important. This was his baby...their baby. “I need to check on Calvin and Rickie and make sure that Lavonda is okay or if I need to call in reinforcements. It’s all temporary. I can’t expect Lavonda to watch Calvin and take care of the ranch. I know I wanted him full-time, but this isn’t exactly how I pictured it.”

“This is definitely not what I signed up for, either. I can’t look for a barrel racer and start training.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “And I’m going to look like the Pillsbury Doughboy if I’m stuck in bed.”

He stared at her, seeing the real distress on her face. How could she think of any of that when their child was at risk? “It’ll be worth it when we have the baby.”

“Hah.” She barked out a short laugh.

“You won’t be pregnant forever,” he tried.

“It feels that way.”

A laugh escaped him, because for a few seconds, she’d sounded just like Calvin when he was frustrated by a LEGO design that didn’t turn out the way he’d planned.

“Don’t laugh,” she snapped.

“I’m sorry, and I’m sorry you’ll be stuck in bed. It won’t be for that long.”

“Long enough.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Turn back the clock and find a condom that doesn’t break.”

“Can’t do that, because then I wouldn’t have my new son or daughter.”

“Daughter,” she said quietly.

“Excuse me?”

“They told me that the baby is a little girl.”

A girl. His chest tightened as he thought about a little girl with solemn dark eyes and her mother’s quick smile. A little girl fearlessly riding a pony and punching her brother in the arm. “I think Calvin would like a little sister.”

He sat down in the torture chair and took Olympia’s hand. “I know this isn’t how we mapped out our time together, but we’ll make it through. Both you and the baby are safe, and that’s all that matters to me.” He squeezed her hand to reassure himself as much as her.

“I know I sound selfish and mean and petty...but... I’ve waited years and years to do...well, to run away to the rodeo. Every time I had to pay for my sisters’ clothes or doctor visits, I’d remind myself that one day they’d be grown and then I could do what I wanted, and all I ever wanted was to go on the road as a barrel racer. I traded cleaning stables for riding lessons. I competed a little bit when my sisters didn’t need the money. I wouldn’t be so close now if I hadn’t gotten the money for Rickie from you. But the baby... A baby was
never
in my plans. After competing, winning a couple of championships, I was going to open my own riding and training school at the ranch, then ride the senior circuit. I had it all figured out.”

He heard the tears in her voice, the sadness and the desperation. “Once you have the baby and recover, you can do all that. I told you I’ll take care of our...daughter, and she won’t know who her mother is. Are you still sure about that?” His lawyer brain kicked his other brain because he had the paperwork that made the new baby his, no matter what. Why was he trying to change her mind?

She remained silent, shaking her head. “I can’t. It’s not that I hate either you or Cal. It’s just—”

“I know. The rodeo. Jessie was planning on doing rodeo and having kids.”

“Maybe. And I know there are other women who do it, but not when they were starting out.”

He stayed quiet, letting his mind settle as he tried to figure out what to say. “I know we have the contract, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to be happy.”

“You think being a mom will make me happy?”

He shrugged. “I don’t want you to regret any of this down the road.”

“How could I regret it when it’s what I’ve always wanted?”

“I always wanted to be a district attorney, until we had Calvin. Then I realized how many hours out of the day I’d be away, and I changed my mind.” He stared at her face, taking in the paleness and tightness around her beautiful tabby-cat eyes. “I’m still a lawyer, and I love what I do, and the hours are more reasonable.” She gave him a look. “Usually.”

“But if I’m not a barrel racer...a cowgirl...then what am I? Just some woman with kids, married to a successful lawyer.”

“You’re Olympia James MacCormack.”

“That’s just a name. Not who I am. What I am.” Tears shone in her eyes, then spilled down her cheeks. He sat on the bed and pulled her to him, ignoring the tubes and her little squeak of protest. He stroked her hair until he felt her relax against him. He didn’t know what to say. The silver-tongued lawyer had absolutely zero words. He patted her shoulder one last time and sat back enough to see that the tears had dried. “I’ll be back later, and we’ll talk more.”

Coward
, his little voice mocked him.
Heck, yes
, he told that darned voice. He needed a nap, and more than that he had to hug Calvin to remind himself what he was fighting for. But was that all he was fighting for now?