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“Nothing’s going to happen to you or the baby. And there’s no need to apologize. You’re getting yourself worked up because you’re scared. Sit back and relax. Think happy thoughts.”
Was he kidding? She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the buttery-soft seat. “I should’ve been more responsible and stopped for the night before it got dark. Then I wouldn’t have made the stupid wrong turn.”
“The weather front shifted suddenly. You couldn’t have known. Besides, I don’t know a single woman who wouldn’t be frightened right now. But you’ve got to remember that stress isn’t good for the baby. You’re doing fine, Darcy. Just try to stop giving yourself such a hard time.”
Easy for him to say. She could mentally kick herself all the way to Canada and not be satisfied. The move, the weather. And she couldn’t have spared five minutes to shave her legs? “Do you do that for a living? Give pep talks?”
Garret chuckled, the sound gravelly and soothing at the same time. “I push paper and placate temper tantrums more often than not. But sometimes pep talks are needed, too, so yeah.”
He looked the type. Sort of like the old gentlemen farmers, all proper manners and clothes on the surface, but calloused and hard beneath. “Then I guess I’ll listen to you. I mean I’m trying…” Her words trailed to a stop and she shook her head, unable to give voice to the horrible images rumbling through her brain.
What if the baby came? Would it live?
The void of their conversation was broken by the swoosh of the wipers, the heater fan blowing full blast and the crunch of the ice and snow beneath the tires. The SUV slid as they headed into a curve, and she gasped and braced herself to take a bite out of another guardrail. But other than lurching to one side, the big vehicle kept its course, and Garret’s cool thinking and reflexes allowed him to maintain control.
He shot her an apologetic glance. “Sorry about that. You okay?”
She nodded, unnerved by the second close call. “It happens fast, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, especially in the mountains. I saw your tags when I turned around. You’re from Florida?”
“Miami. I…I’ve lived in Miami the past four years.” No sooner had the words left her mouth than the pain returned. She stiffened in the seat, trying hard to keep quiet. How could something that lasted mere seconds hurt so much?
When it was over, she couldn’t stop shaking. “It’s too quiet,” she whispered abruptly.
“What kind of music do you like?”
“No, not—I…I need words. Music doesn’t distract me b-because I can tune it out. Talk to me. I know you need to concentrate, but I keep thinking about all the things that could happen and—Tell me something. Anything. Recite the alphabet if you want to, I don’t care. You said you work at the hospital? What do you do?”
Garret could probably feel her desperation, certainly hear it in her voice. While she’d like to have kept a cool head, it simply wasn’t possible. What if she had this all wrong? What if something happened to her and the baby survived? What then?
Her stomach threatened to heave at her thoughts.
Stop this. Stop thinking worst-case scenario.
“I’m the administrative chief of staff at the hospital. It’s basically a fancy title for a job that means I make sure the hospital runs smoothly. Contract negotiating, staffing, supplies, security. It all falls under a big umbrella that I oversee.”
She lifted a hand to shove her hair off her face. “That sounds hectic.”
“It can be. But it leaves the doctors and nurses to concentrate on what they do best.”
“Another power player.” Anger surfaced out of nowhere. Stephen had loved the authority that came with people reporting to him—especially the maids, although she hadn’t found that out until after they’d broken up. Realizing she’d said the words aloud, she faltered. “Sorry. No offense.”
“I don’t take offense easily.”
“I only meant that with a job like that you must enjoy…being in charge.”
“I still have to report to the president and the board, but who doesn’t like a little say-so in some way or another?” He shrugged. “One of my brothers refers to me as the gatekeeper.”
A wave of heat swept over her and her heart picked up speed. Steadily increasing pressure tightened her muscles and gathered around her middle. “Is the nickname…appropriate?”Don’t think about the contractions. They’re nothing. They don’t—
She must have made some noise because Garret’s hands rotated on the steering wheel, like he wanted to twist and grind it into nothing. The sight touched her more than words could. If he could take the pain away, do something to help her, she knew without a doubt he would. How sweet was that?
“I guess I could be called a scaled-back adrenaline junkie. I get my kicks from solving problems in high-stress situations.”
“You must be loving this, then.”
He reached over the console and placed his hand on her forearm. “No man likes seeing a woman in pain. Hang in there, we’re getting closer.”
