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“The doctor’s checking him out. He looks fine. Come on. I’ve got a place for you. . . .”
She was taken to a room with a shower that had a stool inside. Savvy didn’t wait for an invitation. She dropped the jackets and stripped off her blouse and bra with numb fingers, turned on the shower spray, then collapsed onto the stool and let the hot water pour down on her. She hadn’t even taken off her socks and was trying to do just that when a different nurse appeared and helped her finish the task. She thought about the blood, the fluids, and the placenta that had ended up in Hale’s car and felt herself shudder a little in shock and embarrassment.
But they’d made it. They’d made it.
And Declan was doing fine.
It felt like forever before she stopped shaking, but as soon as she did, she wanted out of the shower and in more than just a damn hospital gown and a diaper of sorts. Savannah had no idea what had happened to her underwear and pants. Probably also still in Hale’s TrailBlazer. The nurse insisted she get in bed.
“I’ll bring your husband,” she said once Savvy was under the covers.
She opened her mouth to deny Hale was her husband but decided that wasn’t the hot issue. A deep languor was overcoming her. Pure exhaustion. Maybe she would lie here just a moment or two before she found out about the baby, Hale, and most of all, Kristina.
Kristina.
Her eyes popped open. Had she fallen asleep? She had a sense of very little time passing. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she was about to go find somebody to help when Hale appeared in the doorway.
“I had to move my car,” he explained.
“Any news on Kristina?”
“She’s out of surgery and in recovery. Don’t know anything yet.”
“The nurse said the baby’s okay.”
“Yep, he’s great.” He almost smiled. “I just saw him.”
Savannah felt her bones melt in relief. “And how about you?” she asked, looking into his tired gray eyes.
“How about you?” he countered. “That was . . . something.”
“Yeah.” Savannah laughed faintly. “I told them his name was Declan.”
“Good.”
“I think I’ll just lie down a minute,” she said after they fell into silence.
“I’ll get you some clothes.”
She would have said, “Don’t bother,” because she was pretty sure there wasn’t anything in his car she would ever put on again, but he was already gone.
Ravinia stood beside Catherine’s bed, staring down at her. The EMTs and the nurse who’d brought her in had expected the room to be empty and had given Ravinia questioning looks, to which Ravinia had said, “I’m her niece,” half expecting them to make something of that, but they hadn’t. They’d left, dimming the lights to a soft glow. As soon as they were gone, Ravinia had swept to Catherine’s side.
“Aunt Catherine,” she said quietly. “Aunt Catherine?” Never in her life had she seen her aunt asleep. Catherine had the ears of a hunted animal and was ever on alert. This was a first, and it made her feel both powerful and slightly scared at the same time.
“I’ve got the journal,” she told her. “I stole it from your room.”
Catherine didn’t move. Her breathing was steady and deep.
“It’s Mary’s journal.” Ravinia had determined that when she’d taken it, recognizing that the handwriting wasn’t Catherine’s distinctive and precise penmanship. This journal had been hastily printed or scrawled, and everything looked haphazard and thrown down quickly.
And then she’d randomly turned to a page and read:
C.,
Janet deserves what she gets. You know she took him on purpose. It’s a game with her, but I’m the better player. He’s mine now, and I can feel the baby already.
That clearly wasn’t written by Catherine. Even if it hadn’t been addressed to C., Ravinia would have guessed that was her mother’s journal entry. Yep. Dear old Mom was crazy as a loon.
