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“Sir, I’m dispatching the ambulance. Everything will be fine.”
“Easy for you to say.” He clicked off the phone.
“Have you called Rafe yet?” Angie screamed from the other room.
God! What a terrible father he was. He’d left her alone in that guest room, and he hadn’t called the person she wanted most in the world—her husband.
He stumbled back into the guest room and scanned Angie’s phone for Rafe’s number. “I’m calling him now, sweetheart.”
No answer. Damn! He had to stop himself from throwing the phone at the wall.
“I’m sorry, honey, he’s not answering.”
“He’s”—Angie let out a deep breath—“probably out working on the ranch. Probably can’t hear the phone.”
“Damn it all to hell.”
He redialed and left a voice mail. Hopefully he didn’t sound too completely useless. He wanted Rafe to know his wife was in good hands.
But was she? He didn’t know squat about pregnant women or delivering babies. Working in the infirmary of a prison that housed only males certainly hadn’t prepared him for this. But he had to be there for his daughter.
“He’ll be on his way as soon as he can,” he soothed his daughter. “I’m sure of it.”
“Yes, yes,” she panted. “I know he will be. He wouldn’t want to miss”—more pants—“any of this.”
“Are you okay, honey? Can I get you anything?”
“How about some drugs? Or just knock me unconscious with a freaking mallet. I don’t righteously care at this point.”
“God, I’m sorry. Is the pain that bad?”
“Well, it’s like the world’s worst case of gas pain and menstrual cramps, and then multiply it by a hundred or so.”
Jeff paced along the floor by the foot of the bed. What to do?
In a flash, he thought of Maria giving birth to Angie. The pain she must have borne to bring their daughter into the world. He should have been there. Instead, his brother had been. A sense of gratitude overwhelmed him. Maria hadn’t been alone. Wayne had been there for her.
Thank you. He mouthed the words to his dead brother. Thank you for being there when I couldn’t be.
And the last tiny shred of resentment toward Wayne melted away.
* * *
Thirty-Three Years Earlier
“I hear you rode off on some delinquent’s bike.”
Maria looked up from the book she was reading to face Greg Black, his brown eyes angry. “Where’d you hear that?”
“From everyone. Are you trying to make a fool out of me, Maria?”
“No, of course not.” She didn’t want to hurt Greg. He wasn’t “the one,” but she still cared about him. But after what she’d shared with Jeff, she had to end things with Greg—something she should have done a while ago.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you’re eighteen now. Your old excuses aren’t holding up anymore. When are we going to go all the way?”
Never. And Maria was so glad she hadn’t succumbed to Greg before now. She felt bad about breaking up, but her emotion lessened after that comment. Everything was about sex with him. Well, that definitely wasn’t going to happen. They were over. They had been since the moment Jeff Bay met her gaze that first day.
“Greg, we need to talk.”
