Loe raamatut: «Newborn Daddy»

Chapter One

Ryan Nix stared at the newborn babies in the local hospital. He wouldn’t be here if his sister, Beth, hadn’t just given birth. Normally he avoided babies since his own child, Ryan, Jr., as well as his wife, Merilee, had died three years ago.

But he had to admit, his nephew was a fine-looking boy.

A nurse entered the nursery carrying a pink bundle. A girl. He was about to turn back to his nephew when the nurse put the baby girl in the bed next to Beth’s baby. Then she slid the birth card into place. As she moved away, after smiling at him, he let his gaze drift to the birth card, not really reading it until he saw familiar words.

His name. Listed as the father.

Ryan got a sick feeling in his stomach. His gaze immediately shifted to the corresponding blank. Mother: Emma Davenport.

He slapped his hands on the glass wall for support and stared at the card, sure he’d misread it. What it said couldn’t be true. There had to be another Ryan Nix.

Another Ryan Nix who’d had an affair with another Emma Davenport that had ended seven months ago.

Yeah, right.

Damn her, he’d told her he’d never have another child, never marry again. Hadn’t she listened? In fact, he’d been downright rude, his anger raw and painful. She’d thought she could replace Merilee? Give him a child as perfect as Ryan Junior? Replace his lost family?

He’d sent her away, ended their affair, had nothing to do with her since.

Without thinking, he hurried back to the nurses’ desk. “What room is Emma Davenport in?” he demanded.

“Two-twelve, sir,” the nurse said. She appeared ready to add something else, but Ryan didn’t wait. Her room was on the opposite side of the small hospital from Beth’s.

His cowboy boots weren’t quiet as he raced down the hall, but he was beyond consideration for anyone. He felt betrayed, and he was going to let the betrayer know about it.

He entered the room, his roar already in full force. “Emma Davenport!”

A pale face, smaller than he remembered, lay on the pillow. Alarm registered in her eyes by the time he paused.

“How dare you?” he ripped. “I told you I never wanted children! Did you think I was lying? Did you think you’d force me into marriage this way?”

He frowned when she didn’t say a word. In fact, she’d closed her eyes.

“Emma! Did you hear me?”

The door opened. “I suspect everyone heard you, Mr. Nix,” an older nurse, one who’d been a friend of his mother’s, said. “Would you please step outside?”

“No! I want some answers!” he insisted, glaring at Emma. Then he frowned. If anything, Emma’s pale face had whitened even more. Before he could express concern, however, the nurse had taken him by the arm.

“I think you’d better leave. Our patient needs her rest.”

“Emma!” Ryan demanded.

“Please go.” Her voice was barely a whisper, not the low, musical tones that had first attracted him.

Before he could protest or question Emma again, the nurse dragged him out into the hallway.

“Ryan, whatever issues you have with Miss Davenport, save them. She’s having a difficult time and needs all her energy to get better.”

“What do you mean?” Ryan asked, staring at the nurse. He remembered how pale Emma was. How she didn’t respond. How her voice sounded sad and lifeless. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Men!” the nurse exclaimed. “She just had a baby! Now, stay out of that room, or I’ll call the doctor.”

Ryan stumbled down the hallway, confused, still angry but worried. He walked by the nursery again, on the way to Beth’s room, and he stopped to look at the child that was purportedly claimed to be his.

How could that tiny form be partly his? Even when Ryan, Jr. was small, he hadn’t been that small. Or that delicate. Beautiful. Like Emma.

He cringed. He’d hidden from his behavior seven months ago when—seven months. Horrified, he took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. She’d been pregnant when she’d suggested—when she’d asked about moving in, about making a family. She’d already been pregnant.

And he’d yelled at her. Sent her away.

His mama had raised him to be a gentleman. But he hadn’t been that day. He’d enjoyed Emma’s body. He’d even admit to enjoying Emma. She was different from Merilee. His wife had been vibrant, alive, always the center of everything.

Emma was quiet, even shy at times. He’d sensed in her the same kind of wrenching loneliness he felt. He’d thought she’d understand why he wanted nothing personal, nothing permanent. But he hadn’t told her. He hadn’t been honest…but then she hadn’t asked.

When he’d savaged her after her hesitant suggestion, it had never occurred to him that she might already be pregnant. He was ashamed of what he’d done. Had even considered apologizing, but he hadn’t wanted her to hope he’d change his mind. Better for her to put him behind her and move on.

But she couldn’t.

Because she was already pregnant.

“Damn!” he muttered.

“Ryan? That you? Are you admiring my son? Isn’t he—?” His brother-in-law, Jack Kirby, broke off. “Shoot, I’m sorry, Ryan. I was so excited I forgot—I mean, uh, are you coming in to see Beth?”

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed, his throat raw, his voice heavy. “That’s what I was coming to do.” He hurried toward Jack.

Jack led the way into Beth’s room. His sister was smiling, and Jack immediately hurried to her side, hugging and kissing her before he pointed out Ryan’s presence. “Hey, honey, look who’s here?”

“Oh, Ryan, I’m so glad you came. Did you see him? Isn’t he beautiful?” Beth asked, her face lit with happiness.

All Ryan could see was Emma’s pale face, the sadness in her eyes. He looked around Beth’s room. The rooms were identical, but Beth’s was already filled with flowers…and a loving husband.

Emma had nothing.

Acid ate at his stomach. Guilt filled him. Emma had been alone for the past seven months. He knew because Beth had gone to see her after she and Ryan had split up. Beth had wanted to tell her they could still be friends, because she’d liked Emma. But Emma had refused, telling Beth it would be too painful.

He had occasionally asked Beth, or other women in town, about Emma, in a casual way. But she was like a shadow, barely appearing, slipping away, always bundled up.

Hiding her pregnancy.

“Ryan? Is it too hard for you? You can go home if it is. I appreciate you making the effort, but I’ll understand.” Beth offered him a gentle smile, putting aside her own happiness with concern for him.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “No, honey, I’m okay. You have a fine son. You have a right to be proud.”

Both new parents beamed at him.

“Have you called Mom and Dad yet?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, I just talked to them. They’re packing now. Dad even offered to fly Mom in, but she insisted she had to drive with him to make sure he didn’t get lost,” Beth said with a giggle. Their parents had retired to Florida shortly after Beth’s wedding two years ago.

“When will you go home?” He figured since both babies were born the same day, Emma would go home then, too.

“Either tomorrow or Thursday. The doctor said it depends on how we’re doing. Ryan, you didn’t mind that I—we named him after you, did you?” Beth’s pretty face crinked with a frown, watching him.

He worked hard to look pleased. “No, honey, I was proud. Ryan Jackson is a fine name. Of course, old Jackson here probably wanted his name first, but I’m better than him, so…” As he’d expected, Jack protested, taking his sister’s attention away from him.

When they relaxed again, he said, “Uh, listen, I’ve got to go. Do you mind? Is there anything you need?”

“Oh, no, Jack is taking such good care of me.”

And Emma had no one.

She’d come to town almost a year ago, to be the new librarian. Because she was shy, it had taken her a little while to make friends, but everyone liked her. Ryan had discovered her by accident, while doing the shopping for Billy, his housekeeper, after he’d sprained his ankle.

The instant attraction surprised Ryan, even repulsed him, but Emma wasn’t a lady who expected attention. She offered her help when the food he’d piled up began to slip. Then she’d continued, pushing her almost-empty buggy away.

After having everyone trying to push him into some woman’s arms, any woman’s arms, Emma’s disinterest was…enticing. He found himself asking about her. Then he’d actually gone into the new library for the first-time on some ridiculous excuse.

Again she’d helped him, suggesting a book for Billy to read, when Ryan knew Billy would think he’d lost his mind. And then she’d walked away.

No interest at all.

No flirting, no pushiness, no war paint or suggestive clothes.

He’d stepped up to the counter to check the book out, and on impulse, he’d asked her to eat with him before he went home. He’d told her he hated to eat alone.

He’d struck a chord. She agreed eating alone was difficult and joined him. Her eyes, hazel, fringed with dark lashes, had brightened, her soft lips had stretched into a smile, and he’d wondered if she’d fooled him. She looked too good to be alone.

Had it been a carefully set trap?

But, over dinner, he’d realized her loneliness wasn’t a trick. She never acted like he wanted anything but a dining companion.

And that’s all he was, he’d assured himself. Just because he wanted to slide his fingers through her silky, dark hair. And touch her soft skin. No, all he wanted was a dining companion. Dropping by the library just at closing had become a habit, though. Dinner with Emma had become something he looked forward to. Then he’d gone home with her.

To talk.

And had spent the night.

He hadn’t gone back to the library for three weeks. He’d felt too guilty to show his face. She wasn’t a virgin, thank God. He felt enough guilt without that. But she hadn’t been experienced, either.

And when he went back to the library, she’d never said a word about his absence.

Just as she hadn’t said a word about the baby.

“Ryan? Are you all right?” Beth asked, bringing him back to the present.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll go now. I have someone else to visit.”

“Who?” Jack asked, a frown on his face. “I hadn’t heard of any friends—”

“No one you know!” Ryan exclaimed, backing to the door. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he wasn’t ready to tell his family what had happened. He waved and hurried out of the room.

Emma felt the tears seeping from her closed eyes, getting sopped up by her hair. She didn’t know why she was crying. It must be because she was so weak. And frightened about the future.

“You knew he would be upset,” she muttered to herself. Especially to find out from someone else. Maybe one of the nurses had told him. After all, she’d put his name on the birth certificate.

That had been a mistake.

But she’d intended to tell him about the baby. Only she’d been so tired, so sick, she hadn’t had the strength to deal with him.

And she’d been desperately afraid he’d insist on an abortion.

There was no way she’d agree to such a thing. She’d been left on a doorstep when she’d been born. At first, she’d been sick, so no one had wanted to adopt her. The years slipped away, and she moved from one foster home to another. She got healthier, but she’d never been the “cute” baby anyone wanted.

She’d vowed that her baby, if she ever had one, would be loved, wanted. And that was a vow she’d keep, no matter what. She had to be back at work next Monday, but she’d prepared a little space for her baby behind the counter. She’d take Andrea with her.

So far, however, she couldn’t even get out of bed without assistance. She hoped and prayed she got better fast. Because she couldn’t afford too much time in the hospital. And she couldn’t stay in bed at home. It was going to take her forever to pay the hospital bill as it was.

Her door opened again, and the man she loved, the man who hated her, came back into the room. At least he wasn’t yelling this time. But she reached for the call button anyway. She was too weak to deal with him now.

“Emma, are you all right?”

His softly worded question took her by surprise. But she knew better than to read anything into it. The nurse had probably warned him not to be so noisy.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry someone told you—”

“They didn’t. I was looking at—at the babies when they brought yours in. With the card listing me as the father.”

Yours. He couldn’t have chosen a better way to make it clear he had no interest in the baby. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and looked toward the small window.

The door opened again. “Ryan Nix, I told you not to come in here again.” Margie Long, the nurse who’d thrown him out last time, glared at him.

“Come on, Mrs. Long, I’m being civilized. I just wanted to ask a few questions,” he protested, glaring at Emma because he’d probably figured she’d summoned the nurse.

“Emma, dear, do you want visitors?”

Emma kept staring toward the window, knowing if she looked at Ryan, she wouldn’t be able to send him away. “No, I’m tired.”

“Emma!” Ryan protested, but she continued to stare at that tiny window, using it as a lifeline to get her through his visit.

“Sorry, Ryan, but new mothers are the bosses around here. Out you go.” She took him by the arm and tugged him out.

Emma didn’t move until she heard the door close. Then she stared where Ryan had been, wishing she’d had the strength to stare at him. To memorize those features, to remember his gentle touch. His loving.

She’d believed his touch had been loving. Instead, it had just been sexy. She didn’t know a lot about men, hadn’t believed they could make love and feel nothing.

Now she knew. Ryan had made it very clear.

So it was just her and baby Andrea. She’d prepared in every way she could so they wouldn’t need help. But she hadn’t planned on being so weak. Still, they’d make it, the two of them.

She was determined.

“Didn’t you read that birth card?” Ryan demanded, angry again. “She says I’m the father. Doesn’t that give me some rights?”

“Sure does, if you’re also the husband. Otherwise, nope. Have you told your mother?” she asked, a scolding tone in her voice that irritated him even more. He didn’t need her to tell him his mother would be upset with him.

“No. Damn it, I just found out a few minutes ago!”

“Oh.” The woman pressed her lips together. “We were all a little surprised ourselves.”

He thought about all the trips to the doctor Beth had had. “Didn’t she have prenatal care?” his voice rising in concern and anger.

“She said she did, in Buffalo.” There was doubt in Mrs. Long’s voice. Buffalo, Wyoming, wasn’t large, but it did have a bigger hospital than Franklin, their town.

“Buffalo? Why there?”

“I guess she didn’t want anyone here to know. There were a few whispers, but she wasn’t dating anyone, so we all thought she’d just gained weight. She wore loose clothing.” After another pause, she added, “You two broke up a long time ago, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe she started seeing someone else, but she put your name on the certificate.”

Fierce protectiveness wouldn’t allow him to let even the whisper of such a tale get started. “No! No, the baby’s mine.”

“Okay.”

“What’s wrong with her? I know you said it’s because she just gave birth, but I saw Beth, and she’s doing fine.”

“Miss Davenport had complications.”

“Is the baby okay? She seems small.”

“Oh, she’s a fine little darling, as sweet as can be,” Mrs. Long said, a grandmotherly smile on her face.

“Then why is Emma so pale?”

They’d reached the nurse’s desk. “She’s normally pale, I believe,” Mrs. Long said.

“Don’t give me that,” Ryan snarled. “I want to know what’s wrong.”

“You’re not her husband, Ryan. You don’t have the right to know her health status.”

“Is Steve her doctor? Did he deliver the baby?” he asked, naming an old friend, the man who’d delivered his son, the man who’d tried to save both Merilee and his child after the accident.

The elevator opened and another nurse arrived at the desk. “Sorry I’m late, Margie. Hi, Ryan. You here to see Beth’s baby? I heard she delivered today.”

“Yeah, Susan. I’ve seen him. He’s a fine boy.”

She reached over and patted his arm. “Good for you. I knew you’d come through, even if it is tough.”

He and Susan had gone to school together. If Margie Long was going off duty, he knew he’d have a better chance getting information from Susan. Maybe he could even visit Emma again.

“Don’t let this young man near room 212. She doesn’t want any visitors,” Margie said, as she bent down to get her purse. “Besides, she’s not well enough for them.”

Then she nodded to Ryan and left.

“Who’s in 212?” Susan asked.

Ryan answered, since Margie had left. “Emma Davenport.”

“Are you and Emma together again, after all this time? I thought—”

“No. But she had my baby today and Mrs. Long wouldn’t tell me anything.”

Susan was stunned by his blunt statement. “Your baby?” she asked, her voice rising.

“Yes. And I want to see Emma.”

“I can’t let you in that room. Not after Margie said not to. I’d get fired.” Susan looked over her shoulder, as if she feared Margie might be hiding around the corner.

Ryan sighed in frustration. “Okay, can you tell me why she looks like death warmed over?”

Susan pulled out the chart and scanned it quickly. “I’m not supposed to, but I could, uh, generally tell you a few things.”