Page 78 of Bailey

Peach, pink, and sky-blue flowers drifted in the breeze from the poles, which had been tied to the backs of the chairs, and Cash glanced toward the sidewalk that ran along the side of the house. Lark should be coming that way with her daddy, and she’d walk across the back of the crowd on his right, and then down the middle aisle to him.

She’d told him her dress was simple, a worried look on her face as she’d asked, You know I’m simple, right, Cash?

He’d kissed her and assured her that he knew her and loved her, and sure enough, when he caught sight of her walking down that sidewalk with her arm looped through her father’s, he probably could have picked out her dress for her. She made his breath catch down deep in his lungs, and fire flamed in his face and spread through his veins.

“She’s stunning,” he said right out loud, and he drank in her shape as the antique ivory-colored fabric clung to all of her curves and went up over her shoulders in wide, structured straps. Her arms remained bare, and she carried a small bouquet of wildflowers in one hand.

She and her daddy arrived at the back of the aisle, and the crowd stood. The music changed, and Cash suddenly wished that all they’d planned was this wedding, and then to get in the car and head to Jackson. As it was, he had a plated dinner and a reception to get through, and Lark took the first step toward him, her eyes now locked on his.

Her hair had been piled up on top of her head with tendrils and curls snaking down. She wore gloves up to her elbow in that same vintage lace, and no shoes whatsoever. Cash laughed when he saw her bare feet, and he practically pulled her into him as Marv released her and gave Lark to Cash.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, and as the crowd settled back into their seats, that moment of time stilled and solidified, and he whispered, “I love you with everything I have.”

Lark beamed up at him with only rays of sunshine in her eyes. “I love you too, Cash,” she said, and then together they faced the pastor, ready to become man and wife.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-TWO

Bryce Young stood in a delivery room for the third time in his life. This was the first time he’d been there in the middle of the day, though, instead of the middle of the night.

“One more big push, Momma,” the doctor said, and Bryce shifted so he could stand closer to Codi, pressing into her upper back and hopefully giving her the strength she needed to deliver their son. She pushed through another contraction, and still their baby’s cries didn’t fill the air. She slumped back against the bed, and Bryce rubbed her shoulder. She pulled away from him and gave him a dirty look.

“Sorry,” he said, and she panted as her expression normalized.

“No, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just so tired, and I don’t want to be touched right now.”

Bryce had no idea what she had to go through to carry a baby for nine months, and then have every doctor and nurse poke, and prod, and roll her at their will. If she didn’t want him to touch her, he wouldn’t.

He glanced down to the end of the bed, and since he stood, he could see over the drape they’d put across Codi’s knees. He caught a perplexed look on the doctor’s face, and that didn’t help anything inside him settle. The machines Codi was hooked to started to beep again, and the doctor said, “Okay, this time, Codi,” but his voice wasn’t nearly as bright as before.

“Lord,” Bryce said right out loud. “We need this baby to come right now. What’s stopping him?”

Codi pushed again, her voice grinding through her throat so violently that Bryce thought she might hurt herself.

“All right,” the doctor said. “All right, Codi. That’s good.”

Still, Codi pushed, and then in one sudden moment she fell back against the bed.

“This isn’t working,” the doctor said. “I’m afraid we’re going to need to do a C-section.”

Bryce’s heart pounded harder than it had already been, and he looked to his wife to judge her reaction. Everything exploded inside him when he saw her lying there, unmoving, eyes closed.

“She passed out,” he called, and two nurses rushed up toward Codi. They started fussing with her tubes and checking her, and Bryce had never known fear this strong.

“Put her on oxygen,” the doctor said. “Get her in the OR. We’ve got to get this baby out.”

Bryce stepped back, or he would have been pushed out of the way. A nurse looped an oxygen mask over Codi’s mouth and nose, and a second one lowered her bed in one swift motion. Before he knew it, two more nurses had arrived to push the machines Codi was attached to. They all left the room, and Bryce launched himself after them.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Yes,” one of the nurses said over her shoulder. “Jeri will get you prepped.”

Another nurse appeared out of nowhere, and she said, “You’ve got to come with me, and I’ll take you in when you’re robed up and ready.”

“I’m not going to miss it, am I?” Bryce couldn’t stand the sight of that bed being wheeled away from him, then around a corner, and finally out of sight. He felt like someone had ripped his heart out and taken it with them.

“Mister Young,” she said, and Bryce blinked back to the woman in front of him. “You’re not going to miss it. Come with me.”