His Special Delivery

“What’s your name?”

“Sara Jamison.” Her words trailed off in a groan.

“Relax. It’s not far now.” Cal rolled through a Stop sign.

She glared at him. “Shove a bowling ball up your nose, Doc, then tell me relaxing will keep it from hurting.” She bore down and yelled a curse aimed at all men, including him.

Frustrated, Cal choked the steering wheel. “Dammit, the side of the road is no place to have a baby.” He felt as out of breath as she sounded. “No, Sara, don’t bear down. Don’t push.”

Sara braced her legs on the floor and moaned. Her hand clamped around his wrist. “Don’t tell me what to do.” She threw her head back and screamed bloody murder.

Cal cursed and pulled over to the curb. He had planned to drop Sara at the hospital, then meet James for a beer.

But first, it looked like he had a baby to deliver.

He got out, raced around to Sara’s side of the car and opened the door. “Let’s get you in the back seat.”

She tried to stand. When her knees buckled, he lifted her in his arms. Her scent whirled around him like a lasso, and he wondered how a woman could smell so good in the middle of something like this.

Cal settled Sara on the back seat. She reclined and bent her knees, tucking the skirt of her frumpy brown dress around her legs.

“Better?” he asked, hovering over her. He saw the fear she tried to hide and found he wanted to reassure her. When he realized he already held her hand, he released it, irritated at his reluctance to let go.

Sara met his gaze, her eyes suddenly wide. “It’s coming.”

She bore down then and yelled as if her horse had thrown her into a cactus patch.

Cal stole a quick glance at his watch. About now, he and Tiffany should have been toasting their future with expensive champagne served in fancy glasses. He shoved the thought aside as he yanked off his tuxedo coat and tossed it over the front seat, then rolled up his sleeves.

Sara grimaced, her face turning red from her exertion. After a moment, she exhaled. “I’m really glad you’re here, Cal, and that you’re a doctor. But, honestly, the way I feel right now, I wouldn’t care if you were a plumber.”

He gave in to the smile that threatened. “That’s good, Sara, ’cause I’m a vet.”

The color drained from her face. “A vet?” Her voice wavered. “You mean a veteran, as in foreign wars?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Veterinarian, as in moo.”

She caught his hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “This is no time to joke.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh, great! Do you know what to do?”

“Sure. It’s a piece of cake.” Cal leaned over her and, telling himself he shouldn’t, brushed a sweat-drenched curl behind her ear. This is the last place I want to be. But what better way to end the day from hell, than on the side of the road in a bad neighborhood with a woman…about to give birth.

“Then you’ve done this before?” she asked.

“No, but there’s nothing to worry about. We’ll get through it, together. Trust me, okay?”

His confidence had to have eased her worries, because she nodded, even gave him a tentative smile. “Do I have a choice?”

Cal shook his head. “Sara, I need to check the baby’s position,” he said, his voice rough and uneven.

Color now rushed to her cheeks. She bit her bottom lip and nodded. He knew she had to be scared out of her wits, yet she remained calm, something Cal couldn’t imagine his fiancée—ex-fiancée—doing. He had to admit, despite Sara’s stubbornness, he admired her spirit and roll-with-the-punches attitude.

He waited for a wino to pass, then lifted her skirt. It took another moment to undress her so he could see the baby’s head crowning. Sara groaned and pushed.

A passing car honked. The shouts of children playing nearby drifted to Cal on the cold afternoon breeze. The enormity of the situation settled about him. He’d delivered foals valued anywhere from fifty to one hundred thousand dollars, but this child wasn’t an animal. Sara’s baby had decided to be born here and now, whether or not Cal liked it.

“What do you see?” she asked.

Cal bit back the sudden laughter that bubbled up inside him at Sara’s question. He doubted she’d appreciate his warped sense of humor at the moment. “Hmm. I see his head.”

“Her head.”

In spite of everything, he once again found himself smiling at the determination in Sara’s voice. “I’ll have to see the other end to know that.”

“I think you’re about to see it.” She pushed and grunted, and freed the baby’s head.

“Come on,” Cal said, frowning as he noticed the bluish tint to the baby’s coloring. “You’re almost there.”

Sara screamed. Tiny shoulders passed through, then the baby girl slid into his waiting hands. The infant squirmed, and he tightened his hold. Cal checked her mouth and nose as best he could, anxious to make sure her air passages were clear.

Soon the baby’s cries mixed with her mother’s tears of joy. Unlike the mostly silent births to which he’d grown accustomed, the music of life washed over him.

Cal looked at the tiny miracle cradled in his palms. He’d held new life before, though nothing this small or fragile. Why did holding this child make it difficult to breathe? He shook his head, trying to clear his befuddled mind.

The newborn’s eyes opened like a baby bird’s, and she stared up at him. Cal felt as though he’d been bucked off a bronc.

He’d brought a new human life into the world.

He’d delivered Sara’s baby.

“What is it, Cal? What’s wrong?” Even without seeing Sara’s face, he could hear the fear in her voice.

Doing his best to hold the slippery infant against his chest, he grabbed his jacket from the front seat and wrapped the baby in it. “Nothing. It’s a girl.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s perfect,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

When he caught the infant’s fist, her hand closed partway around his index finger. He stared at the tiny fingernails, so perfect in miniature. A tremor snaked up his spine.

After handing the infant to Sara, Cal tugged the lace from one of his patent-leather shoes and used it to tie off the umbilical cord. He’d wait until they reached the hospital and let them sever the remaining tie between mother and child.

Cal caught a glimpse of Sara as she held her daughter. He knew then he’d never forget delivering this child or the undeniable love shining on Sara’s face. Maybe love did exist—at least between mother and child.

This mother and this child.

A smile spread across Sara’s face as she touched her daughter’s cheek. “Cal, what’s your full name?”

“Calvin Lee Tucker,” he said, wondering why she’d asked.

“I’ll call her Jessica Lee.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Cal said, a strange weight settling in his chest.

“I know, but I want to.” She turned back to her daughter.

“That’s a hell of a big name for such a little thing.” Cal tried to swallow past the tightening in his throat. “She looks like a Jessie to me.”

Sara glanced at the baby, then back at him. “You need glasses. She’s definitely a Jessica.”

Cal shrugged. The baby was fine. Sara was fine. That’s all that mattered.

Finally ready to get underway, he leaned inside the car as Sara brushed her full lips against the baby’s head. A sudden protectiveness toward Sara and Jessie filled him. It wasn’t something he was accustomed to. He didn’t want to feel it. But he did.

“I’d better get you two to the hospital.”

Their gazes met and held. A smile lifted Sara’s lips. “Thanks, Cal, for everything.”

Warmth stampeded through him as he gazed at Sara and her child. Rattled by his reaction, he closed the door and raced around the car. His mind spun with bits and pieces of what had happened. The weight in his chest grew heavier.

Cal sucked cold air into his lungs. He dismissed what had happened, chalking the odd feelings up to stress. After all, it had been a lousy day. He started the car and, with a crunch of gravel, headed to the hospital. In the back seat Sara cooed to her daughter. The sound touched a chord deep inside him that reverberated to his soul, feeding a hunger he never knew existed, a hunger he refused to acknowledge. He focused on the road ahead and pressed on the gas pedal. His job would be done when he delivered Sara and her baby to the hospital.

Then he’d head home. Alone.

Chapter Two

The familiar smell of antiseptic enveloped Cal as he paced the hospital corridor. He wished the doctors would hurry and pronounce Sara and her child fit, so he could head out.

A young clerk walked toward him. Her gaze skittered from Cal’s unruly hair to the tips of his toes. She gave him a smile that ordinarily would have charmed Cal clean down to the soles of his rented shoes. Only his mind was occupied with thoughts of a courageous green-eyed woman.

The hospital worker pointed to an office across the hall. “Sir, we need to get some information. If you’ll come with me.”

He started to protest, but followed her for lack of anything better to do. “I don’t know much that will help.”

“This is my first day on the job, so I appreciate your cooperation.” She directed him to a chair and took a seat in front of a computer. “What’s your name?”

“Calvin Lee Tucker.”

A nurse hurried past with Sara’s baby. Cal jumped to his feet to follow, but the clerk motioned for him to stay.

“Where are they taking Jessie?” he asked.

“Probably to the nursery to get her vitals.”

Cal slumped in the chair beside the desk.

“Have you ever been here before?” she asked.

“Hmm? Yeah. A horse kicked me and broke a couple of ribs a year or so back.” He ran the pad of his thumb along the jagged scar on his chin, a souvenir of his rebellious days when he’d thought riding broncs would get his parents’ attention. “And I had to get stitches about ten years ago.”

The woman tapped the keys of the computer. “Is your address still Route One, Willow Grove, Texas?”

“Uh-huh.”

“The mother’s name?”

“Sara Jamison.” Cal tried to remember anything else Sara might have mentioned, but couldn’t. “Look, I don’t—”

“Wait a minute.” When her computer screen went blank, the clerk sent him a sheepish grin. “Guess I pushed the wrong button. I’ll have to start over.”

Cal left his chair to pace in the confined area. Finally, he pulled a business card from his billfold and handed it to the young woman. “Here’s my address and phone number. Take down what you need. I’m going to check on Sara.”

She stared at the card a moment. “Sara is the mom and Jessie is the baby?”

“Jessie Lee,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away.

The nurse who’d taken Sara away earlier paused in the door. A grin split her face. “You can go to room 324.”

“Thanks.” He needed to see Sara and the baby. Just to make sure they were both all right before he left. That’s all. Then his obligation would end, and he could change and meet James.

Cal hurried down the hall, following the numbers around the corner. He paused a moment outside the room, then knocked.

“Come in.”

He opened the door and moved to stand at the end of the bed. His gaze roamed the contours of Sara’s face, taking in the way she smiled at him as she reclined on a pillow. Cal drew an easy breath for the first time since the delivery. Sara looked great. No, he grudgingly admitted. She looked better than great. He wondered if it was her special radiance that made it difficult to look anywhere but at her.

Irritated by his response to Sara, Cal told himself to leave, but instead stood surveying the hospital room which was puke-green with gadgets stuck in every conceivable place. It was certainly different from his veterinary clinic, where he cared for horses.

“Have you seen Jessica?” Sara asked, her happiness shining from the inside out. The bloom of motherhood colored her freckled cheeks.

Cal had an inexplicable urge to sit and stay awhile. “Only when they rushed past headed to the nursery.”

She plucked at the blanket. “When will they bring Jessica?”

He shrugged, reminding himself again he needed to leave. “You want me to ask?”

Sara’s smile widened. “Would you?”

“Sure,” he said, doing his best to ignore the warmth that filled him. He couldn’t understand why looking at Sara should make him feel so good. He turned to leave, then paused. “What did the doctor say? Are you okay?”

Her eyes sparkled. “I’m great, thanks to you.”

Cal coughed to clear the tightness in his throat. He and Sara had shared a once-in-a-lifetime experience. One he’d never forget. That’s all this odd feeling was.

A twinge of guilt seized him. When he had run across Sara, he’d cursed her and his bad timing. He’d even wished he could turn the other way. Thank God he hadn’t. But the time had come to go. He’d check on Jessie, then leave.

He looked at Sara once more. A man could drown in the happiness he saw reflected in her eyes and die with a smile on his face. Cal silently cursed and forced himself out the door.

A baby’s cries echoed in the hallway seconds before a nurse rounded the corner. A red-faced Jessie lay on her back in the center of a small, plastic cart on wheels. The infant squalled louder than he’d thought possible. She stiffened inside the blanket tucked tightly around her body, then pumped her tiny legs.

After growing up an only child, Cal had always planned to have kids, lots of ’em. But his children wouldn’t be raised by a horde of nannies and housekeepers. His babies would know his touch, his love. But there was no need to consider that now.

He reached out and ran his forefinger across Jessie’s cheek. Warmth flooded his chest. “Has the doctor seen her?”

“Yes.”

He decided now was the time to leave and stepped aside so the nurse could push the cart into Sara’s room.

“The doctor has called in a pediatrician to check her over. Then, we’ll take her back to isolation,” the nurse said.

Cal’s breath left in a whoosh, and he followed her into the room. “Isolation? Why? What’s wrong?” He hated the helplessness in Sara’s eyes as she looked from him to the nurse.

“When a child is born outside the hospital, it’s kept away from the other babies in case it picked up something. It’s just hospital policy, hon.” The nurse patted Sara’s arm and recited instructions about nursing and proper infant care.

Cal glanced at the baby, needing to see for himself that she was fine. “There’s nothing wrong that you know of?”

“Well, she’s sounding a little raspy. We wanted to get her down to see Mom for a minute before the pediatrician arrives,” the nurse said as she checked Sara’s and Jessie’s hospital bracelets, then headed toward the door. “Now, she can’t nurse until after the pediatrician sees her. And I’m afraid this will be a short visit. I need to check with the nurse’s desk down the hall. Ring the buzzer if you need anything.”

Cal exhaled. “Thanks.”

When Sara started to get up, he caught her arm. “Stay put. I’ll hand her to you.”

Cal moved to the boxy thing containing Jessie and worked his hands beneath the infant’s slight weight. When he cradled her in his palms, Jessie’s head lolled to one side. Cal couldn’t figure out how to hold her so she didn’t hang limp. Unlike foals who stood after birth, Jessie appeared weak as a sparrow.

The baby squalled, her tongue quivering in her open mouth. Cal stood in amazement as Sara lifted the child with hands that were sure, yet gentle. Sara cooed and a rush of yearning zipped through Cal, catching him by surprise.

He took a step back. “I’d better be going, unless you think I should stay until after the pediatrician—”

“No, that’s not necessary. I’m sure everything’s fine.”

The infant’s cries stopped. She blinked and stared at Sara. Quiet filled the room, except for the comforting sound of Sara’s voice as she murmured words of love to her daughter.

Cal’s mouth went dry. Why did watching Sara with her baby bother him? He’d seen hundreds of foals with the mares after birth, but this made him feel…something he couldn’t describe. “Is there someone I can call for you before I head out?”

Sara stroked the blond fuzz on Jessie’s head. “No.”

“Your husband, folks, sister, brother?”

She shrugged. “No.”

Cal muttered an oath. “Boyfriend?”

Sara met Cal’s direct gaze. “No.”

“Doesn’t Jessie’s father have a right to know?”

The sparkle left Sara’s eyes as they narrowed on Cal. “Her father lost his rights when he told me to get an abortion.”

Outraged, Cal’s hands fisted at his sides. He knew well the pain associated with rejection and hated the thought that Jessie would grow up knowing she hadn’t been wanted by her father. “Maybe if you told him about Jessie now, he’d change his mind.”

Sara’s eyes darkened in warning. “Gary made his decision when he walked out. He won’t get a chance to hurt her.”

Cal eyed the woman who had turned into a snarling mama bear, determined to protect her cub. He still believed Sara should tell the baby’s father, regardless of what the man had done. If Jessie was Cal’s child, he’d want to know.

But then he wouldn’t have told Sara to get an abortion. And he would never have walked out on her.

Cal chewed on the fact that Sara didn’t have anyone to help her. He didn’t like that at all and assumed the protectiveness he felt was because he’d delivered the baby.

Sara sent him a thoughtful look. “I hate to ask you for a favor, but there’s no one else.”

“What do you need?”

“Put my car key under the front seat, then lock the doors.”

Cal frowned. “Why?”

Sara kissed the top of Jessie’s head and looked everywhere, but at him. “The bank gave me until today to bring my payments up to date. I haven’t been able to work, so I need to let them take the car. I’ll call and tell them where it is. If you’ll just lock the keys inside, I’d appreciate it.”

He tugged his wallet from his back pocket, intending the loan of money to be his last goodwill gesture before hitting the road. “How much do you need?”

Sara’s narrowed gaze met his. “I don’t want your charity.”

Confounded stubborn woman. “It’s not charity. Think of it as a loan. You can pay me back when you’re able.”

“You brought Jessica into this world, Cal, and I’ll always be grateful for that. But I can’t take your money.” She shifted the baby against her shoulder.

Cal glared out the window. Frustration and anger made him want to shake Sara. How the devil did she expect to get by without a car or anyone to take care of her? The idea of Sara being alone didn’t sit well with him. She was so full of pride he doubted she’d accept his help. Not that he wanted to give it. He’d already done more than enough and needed to leave. “How will you get Jessie home?”

“I don’t know. I’ll take a taxi, or maybe the bus.”

For the first time in his life, Cal wished he was as unfeeling as his parents. Then he’d have no qualms about turning his back on Sara and her child. But he hadn’t done it earlier, and he didn’t see how he could do it now. Why that fact irritated him, he wasn’t sure, but it did.

Though he hated to admit it, Sara had crawled under his skin. The realization made him want to run. He didn’t want to get any more involved than he already had, but damned if he could stand by while she struggled through this alone.

“I’ll drop it off on my way home. What bank?”

“Lone Star Bank out on I-20 West.” She ran her hand in circles on the baby’s back and stared at Cal with eyes that shimmered with tears. “Thanks, for everything.”

He couldn’t stand seeing Sara cry, so he headed for the door. If he didn’t get out of there, he’d pull her in his arms, and he couldn’t afford to do that. Not that he knew squat about giving comfort. He’d probably mess that up like he had everything else in his life. Everything except delivering Jessie.

Cal heard Sara’s muffled sobs as his hand closed over the handle. He paused, refusing to look at her, knowing the sight of her tears would be his undoing. “I’ll take you and Jessie home when you’re released.”

Cursing himself for staying in the first place, he slipped through the door and closed it behind him, effectively cutting off her rejection of his offer. He pulled the key to her car from his pocket. She’d made it clear she didn’t want his help. Not that he wanted to give it, but she had no one else.

Cal glanced at his watch, remembering he should have met James hours earlier. He’d go change, then head to the Bull Pen. After the day he’d had, Cal needed a couple of drinks. Besides, it wasn’t like he had anyone waiting at home.

Around midnight Cal accepted a long-neck bottle from the waitress as James tossed her a smile along with a ten-dollar bill. They both stared at the hypnotic sway of her jean-clad hips as she strolled her way across the room. But somewhere between their table and the bar, Cal’s vision blurred and he saw a pair of green eyes that refused to give him peace. Realizing the direction of his thoughts, he muttered an oath.

James slapped Cal on the back. “You gonna make it?”

“Yeah,” Cal said, finally acknowledging he’d get no rest until he knew how Sara was doing…and Jessie.

“These are just my thoughts, so you can take ’em or leave ’em.” James tipped his bottle up to take a healthy draw. “But if you’re going to pine away after Tiffany, then you—”

“Pine away?” Out on the dance floor, a woman laughed, reminding Cal of Sara. He’d call the hospital as soon as he got home to check on her. Then he’d put her out of his mind.

James eyed Cal. “Your mind is somewhere else. Have you talked to Tiffany since the wedding?”

From the corner jukebox, George Strait sang about doing the right thing. “Who?”

“Tiffany—the gal you were supposed to marry. Why don’t you go find her and talk things out?”

Cal picked at the corner of his beer label. “We’ve talked. I went home to change clothes and called her before I came here. She confessed she’d met some guy—a photographer—last month. She had no intention of seeing him outside of work, but said there was a chemistry between them—whatever the hell that means.” He ran a hand over his face. “Anyway, she’s headed back to New York…to him. It seems she came back to break things off with me, only she lost her nerve. So, there’s nothing to work out. She’s always hated what I do. It was only after my dad offered me that position running one of his companies that she seemed eager to give up modeling to be my wife.”

James winked at a redhead two tables over. “Are you okay with that?”

“You mean do I want to fight for her?”

At James’s nod, Cal shook his head. “No. There’s no point.”

“What do your folks have to say about all this?”

“Nothing yet. They were catching a flight to France right after the wedding.”

Cal knew they would blame him for this mess with Tiffany, just as he knew his mother would double her efforts to find him a suitable wife—meaning one whose family came from old money.

They could shove their rules, social register, dinner parties and their efforts to run his life. He’d never walk away from the only thing that made him happy. He couldn’t imagine his life without his veterinary practice. He’d never give it up—not to please his manipulating parents or the beautiful model whose so-called love came at a price he hadn’t been willing to pay.

“I knew Tiff and I disagreed on almost everything,” he said, “but I’d fooled myself into believing things might work. I’m tired of it all. I’m tired of trying. Tired of failing. And I’m tired of always being the one who has to change.”

James sent him a questioning look. “You sure?”

“I mean it. I’m through trying to be what everyone else wants. Look where it’s gotten me. From now on, I’m doing what I want, when I want. To hell with everybody else.”

The beeper hanging on Cal’s belt vibrated. He tilted his pager at an angle so he could see the message. Flipping open his cellular phone, he punched in the number.