Азбука в стихах. Ангелина Дроскова
were coming closer together, and even he knew what that meant. No more time to try and find out who this woman was or why she was here, what her motives were.
“Hot water,” he muttered. They always talked about that, too, didn’t they?
“No…time.”
He realized she meant that literally.
“The baby…is coming.”
Now. She meant right now.
Ryder stifled the urge to run. Her hands flailed wildly, as if seeking purchase. He grabbed them, startled at the strength in them as she cried out yet again.
“It’s all right,” he said, squeezing her hands. “We’ll get through it.” Somehow, he added silently to himself.
He had no plan; he worked strictly on instinct. He kept up a stream of encouraging words, trying to distract her—and perhaps himself—from the embarrassingly intimate position they found themselves in. He wasn’t sure it helped, but when he paused she asked him to keep talking.
Until it started to actually happen.
He’d had no idea birth was such a messy thing. He’d always had some image that the kid slid out and got wrapped in a blanket and handed over. But this was wet, bloody and shockingly brutal. He didn’t know who to marvel at more—the woman going through it, or the child for surviving it.
If, of course, it did.
It was when he first spotted the baby’s head emerging that his gut truly knotted. Dark hair, nearly as dark as his own. He was a little startled. He thought babies were born bald.
The woman screamed then. It was a rending sound, and he touched her gently, trying to soothe her.
“It’s coming,” he said, even though he realized that no one knew that better just now than she did. “It’ll be over soon.”
She seemed to take heart from that, and sucked in a breath.
“Can you push?” he asked diffidently, wondering if that was just a stupid cliché, too.
She grunted then, a primal, earthy sound. Then again, and again.
Women, he thought. You heard about what they went through in childbirth, but until you saw it, you didn’t really realize how tough they were.
To Ryder, it seemed to happen fast then, although he suspected it wouldn’t be wise to say so to the straining woman. He should be paying more attention to the baby, and shifted just in time to see a tiny pair of shoulders emerge.
It did happen fast then. He reached to support the tiny thing she was expelling.
The moment he touched it, the “thing” became real to him. He stared down at the baby who barely filled his two hands. So tiny, so helpless…but it was a life, another human being, a fellow inhabitant of this glorious planet, and he’d helped it arrive.
This was big, he thought.
Huge.
How could something so incredibly small, so fragile and delicate, make him feel like this?
“It’s a girl,” he whispered. “A little girl.”
The woman made a sound he couldn’t begin to describe. She sounded exhausted, but there was something else in her voice when she instructed, “You must cut the cord.”
He winced, even though he knew that. He followed her brisk instructions, glad she was able to walk him through it. She might be young, but she’d clearly done her homework on this.
Or maybe women were just born knowing, he thought, despite her earlier claim to ignorance.
“I just leave it like that?” he asked, looking doubtfully at the stub of the cord still attached to the baby who appeared to be, to his amazement, looking around. Her eyes were brown, he thought, a little numbly. Dark, rich, espresso brown, like her mother’s. Her head looked a little funny, misshapen, but he guessed that was normal.
“It will fall off of its own accord later,” the woman said. “You must clean her. Her mouth, nose, so that she breathes easily.”
He did his best, aware that he was shaking slightly. And when the tiny child in his hands let out a protesting wail, he found himself grinning; things were working fine, it seemed.
“She’s got lungs,” he said, feeling a bit loopy, as if he’d downed one tequila too many. To his surprise the new mother laughed, as if she hadn’t just been through hell.
When she was clean and dry, he wrapped the baby awkwardly, but with a need for gentleness unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He took a last look down into the tiny face.
“Give her to me.”
The new mother’s voice was shaky, and when he looked from daughter to mother he saw fear in her eyes. She reached out, as if she were afraid he would refuse to hand over the baby. Ryder wondered suddenly if she knew what was going on around here, and had the sudden thought that she might suspect him of being connected to the baby-smuggling ring.
Well, she’s right, isn’t she? he told himself.
Then he put the baby into her mother’s outstretched arms. The look that mother gave him nearly stopped his heart cold.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
For the first time in his life with a woman, Ryder was speechless. All he could do was look at her, and at the tiny bit of humanity he’d just helped bring into the world. He didn’t know how he felt, only that whatever it was, it was more intense than he’d ever experienced before.
And on some level, somewhere deep inside him, he knew he would never be the same again.
Maria.
Ana held her baby close, savoring the feel of her, the smell of her, the miracle of her.
She had thought of other names, but when the time had come there was no other. Maria. Her mother deserved the tribute; it was not her fault that Ana’s father had not been the man she had hoped. For a long time, Ana was grateful her mother had died before she’d learned the full extent of her husband’s dishonesty and evil. But now, she could only feel sad that her mother was not here to see this precious child, her granddaughter.
So she would do the only thing she could; she would name her after her grandmother and give her the life she deserved. Somehow, she would do this. She would ask for no help, no charity, she would make her own way, for herself and her baby girl.
No help…
“A hospital,” the dark stranger said. “You and she need to see a doctor.”
Ana shook her head. She trusted no one, especially now. She had heard too much about the local baby smuggling, had pumped Jewel daily for information, information she’d given sometimes reluctantly, for fear of frightening the soon-to-be mother.
“I am not going anywhere.”
“But what if there’s something wrong?”
“There is nothing wrong. She is beautiful. Healthy. You can see that.”
“But what about you? That was…you need—”
“No.” It sounded cold and heartless to her ears, when all he’d done was express concern about her. She hastened to add, “I—and my daughter—thank you for what you did. But you must go now.”
He looked nonplussed. She supposed it was rude, but what did rudeness matter when she had her baby to protect? She knew Jewel would be back with the kids soon, then she would have help she trusted.
She did not, could not dare trust this man. She didn’t know why he was here, how he had