Baby in His Arms (14 page)

“All the better reason to lay off the coffee.”

She looked at the foam cup. “I don’t even like coffee.”

He knew. Which meant she was scared and worried and didn’t know how to cope. Their quarrel of this morning seemed far away and unimportant.

“I’ve been in some tough situations before, Haley. One thing I’ve learned is this. Taking care of yourself is in Rose’s best interest. She’s going to need you at full strength.”

Haley tossed the cup in the trash and wiped her palms down the sides of her dress. She looked bedraggled. Beneath a faded jean jacket, the blue flowered dress was wrinkled and her auburn hair stuck out in wild tufts as if she’d not combed it before rushing Rose to the clinic. She probably hadn’t. He found that endearing.

“Come here. Sit down.” He patted the chair next to him. As annoyed as he’d been this morning during the ridiculous fight, he needed her today, and he knew she needed him.

Haley fidgeted with a frayed jacket cuff. “I thought you hated me.”

“Can’t. Now sit down. We have to put our personal issues aside and focus on Rose.” He sounded so mature, he nearly grimaced. Even though Rose was the focus, personal feelings mattered. Not only for him and Haley, but for the child they both loved.

Haley nodded once, shortly, and then joined him, settling into the chair at his side. When she reached for his hand, he closed his fingers around hers, taking and giving comfort.

Another group came into the waiting room and found seats in a corner where they chattered nervously. One of the women went to the coffee stand.

On the wall a television scrolled Fox News and a reporter blabbed outside the White House. But Creed’s world was condensed into this moment in this place, waiting for word on a baby who had stolen his heart from the moment he’d seen her.

How could Haley even consider letting her go? He wondered now if she really could.

After an interminable amount of time, Dr. Ron came into the waiting room accompanied by a tall, thin doctor in a lab coat and wire-framed glasses. Dr. Ron introduced him as Dr. Kline, a pediatric pulmonologist.

“Dr. Kline.” Creed shook the offered hand. The doctor’s skin felt smooth and soft, probably from too many scrubbings. But then, Creed supposed it wouldn’t do for a physician handling babies to have hands as rough as his. “Thanks for coming out. What can you tell us?”

“The nurses are in the process of moving your baby up to the floor. You can meet her up there.”

Creed didn’t bother to correct the logical error. He and Haley weren’t the parents, but they’d both fight like crazy to see Rose well. “Can you tell us what’s wrong?”

“Pneumonia.”

“Oh.” Haley sucked in a sob. “How can that be? She had a little cold but she didn’t seem that sick. Then she went to sleep and I was so tired from being up half the night with her, I took a nap, too. When I woke up, her breathing was so much worse—”

“Don’t blame yourself, Haley,” Dr. Ron said. “Babies can decline rapidly. The good news is they can also get well in a hurry. The lab is running tests to pinpoint the cause, but the best guess is RSV.”

Haley’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what that is.”

Creed grasped her fingers and squeezed in assurance, though he didn’t know what RSV was, either.

“Respiratory syncytial virus,” Dr. Kline answered. “It’s a highly contagious, common virus that usually presents as a cold just as Rose’s did. Many kids contract RSV at school or daycare, but their immune system fights it off. Other than a slight cold, they’re not very sick at all. In some cases, Rose’s for example, a baby’s immune system isn’t strong enough to destroy the virus and pneumonia or bronchitis sets in.”

“But she’ll be all right, won’t she? She can be treated.”

“Viral pneumonia is very serious in an infant this age. Unfortunately, there is no specific drug treatment for RSV. We’ll treat her symptoms, give her plenty of support so her body can fight, and the rest is up to her immune system.”

“And God,” Creed said quietly.

Dr. Kline turned his serious gaze on Creed. “Absolutely.”

After the pediatrician finished speaking and strode out of the waiting area, the remaining three rode the elevator up to the third floor. A group of medical staff worked over a baby bed, the side rail down. Rose Petal lay as pale and lifeless as before, but her eyes were open and listless.

Creed’s chest ached at the sight. She looked so sick.

A whimpering sound issued from Haley. Her shoulders sagged. “Oh, Rose Petal. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He understood her reaction. With monitors and tubes attached everywhere and struggling for every breath, Rose seemed frighteningly fragile.

The room was crowded with equipment and personnel, leaving little room for them to enter, but one of the medical staff turned toward them. “Come on in. We’re getting her settled. X-ray has finished up and respiratory therapy will be coming in soon.”

“Can I hold her?” Haley asked. “I want to hold her.”

“She definitely needs her mama.” The brown-haired nurse’s eyes were sympathetic. “But for right now, it might be better if you sit next to her, touch her and talk to her. You, too, Dad.”

Creed said nothing. What was the point? The staff thought Haley was the mother and he was the father, a natural assumption given the way both of them hovered. And what if he was Rose’s bio dad? Would he feel any more intensely if Rose had been born of his blood?

He couldn’t imagine so.

“Go ahead, Haley. I need to talk with Dr. Ron a minute.”

Haley needed no further encouragement. As fast as she could skirt around the machinery and people, she was across the room talking to Rose in a soft, loving voice.

In an undertone Creed spoke to Dr. Ron. “You need to get back to the clinic, I suppose?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Dr. Ron didn’t know the situation. He didn’t know that Creed had formed an attachment to Rose...and to Rose’s foster mom. The truth was, Creed didn’t want to fly back to Whisper Falls, leaving Haley here alone with Rose. But he had to.

Chapter Fourteen

H
aley paced the small hospital room, agonizing over every breath Rose Petal struggled to inhale and praying as she’d never prayed before.

Creed was gone. She shouldn’t have been bothered by the departure, but she was. Her rational brain knew he had to fly Dr. Ron back to Whisper Falls. The town needed its doctor and there was nothing more either man could do here at the hospital. Yet, her less rational side had always expected Creed to leave her. That he had abandoned her and Rose Petal when they needed him proved her theory. Nothing lasts forever. A flyboy in particular was only passing through.

Rational or not, Haley couldn’t help what she felt.

She flipped on the television but didn’t watch it. The programming seemed silly. How could the world keep turning and talking and behaving badly while children suffered?

Her stomach growled, but there was no way she was leaving Rose’s bedside. Not like Creed had done. Not even for food.

The nurses were constantly in and out, arriving every few minutes to check vital signs. A respiratory therapist had administered some anise-scented mist through a tiny mask he’d held against Rose’s face. A team of residents had come and gone after listening to the baby’s back and chest with stethoscopes. So many doctors and yet, they couldn’t make Rose Petal well. Only God could do that.

At times she felt foolish for praying. She, who believed life was out of control and nothing anyone did or said could change the inevitable, suddenly longed to believe as Creed did that prayer changes things, that God cares and is involved.

What was it Cassie had told her? Something about the eyes of God always watching over the earth, searching for those in need.

She hoped His eyes had found Rose.

Her hands were still clasped in prayer when the door opened with that hushed, whispered sound found only in medical facilities. She opened her eyes, hoping like crazy that Creed had come back; another irrational thought, but there it was. He’d been a rock, a strength, a warm, comforting presence. She missed that. She missed him.

“Dinnertime.” A woman wearing a blue paper hat entered carrying a food tray.

Was it? “I didn’t order anything.”

“Dr. Kline sent this up for you. It’s the way we do things around here. You can order for yourself tomorrow.” She settled the tray on a bedside table and indicated the slip of paper.

“Thank you. I didn’t have lunch and I’m starved.”

“You’ve had a busy day.”

No kidding.

The woman left and Haley lifted the round silver lid. Even hospital food smelled good at this point.

After she’d scarfed down a square of cherry jelly, steamed broccoli and half a grilled cheese, Haley pushed the tray away, somewhat refreshed.

Rose Petal needed to eat, too, but she’d refused her bottle.

Haley had called Melissa, the social worker, per protocol and reported the baby’s hospitalization. She’d also called Pastor Ed, who’d prayed for Rose over the phone. Tears had clogged Haley’s nose. She felt terribly alone. For the first time, she understood her mother’s obsessive need to constantly have someone special in her life.

Maybe she’d been too hard on Mona.

“Oh, Jesus.” Again, she bowed her head against the crib railing and poured out her fear and love. No matter what Creed thought, she loved Rose Petal, but she didn’t know what to do about it. Wouldn’t Rose be better off with a young couple to adopt her, a mother and father with plenty of money and a big family who could lavish her with love? Wasn’t that the kind of family the birth mother had wanted for Rose? Would Haley be doing the baby an injustice by trying to adopt her?

Nothing in her life had ever been stable enough to consider having a child of her own. But letting go of Rose Petal would rip her heart out.

Would Rose be sad without Haley? Would she know that the woman who had cared for her since birth was gone? Or was she too young to be affected? Haley didn’t know. She only knew she ached inside, and that her future stretched out before her like a lonely, empty highway.

Outside the window, the sky began to darken. Haley could see only a parking lot and more buildings. But somewhere below was a helipad.

Creed hadn’t said he’d return. He’d told her to hang tough. Such a man thing to say. She was tempted to call him. She picked up her cell phone again. His number was in her contacts.

What would she say?
Hello, Creed, I miss you. I wish you’d come back. I’m worried and scared and need you to be strong for me?

Maybe not.

She slid the phone inside her tote bag.

Rose Petal opened her eyes and whimpered. The monitors beeped their steady beep as Haley reached over the rails and picked up the sick baby, careful of the myriad wires.

“Shh. I’m here, precious darling. You will be all better soon.”
Please, God.

She pressed the frail little body against her heart and rocked. Rose settled, so Haley rocked some more, a gentle sway like a breeze over tall grass. No matter how her arms ached or how tired her body, Haley rocked and murmured, hoping with all her soul that love heals.

The heavy door whooshed and a nurse came in wearing yellow Tweetie Bird scrubs, her deep red hair short and straight. Expecting another examination, Haley gently returned Rose to the bed.

“I’m Nancy,” the woman said, whipping a stethoscope from around her neck as she moved briskly toward the crib. “I’m your night nurse. How’s the little one doing?”

“She doesn’t seem any worse. But her temperature was up last time. How is it now?”

“Well, let’s see.” The nurse listened to the baby’s heaving chest and then held a thermometer inside her ear. When the instrument clicked, she frowned and said. “Temp’s holding steady but that’s not always a bad thing. Fever fights the illness.”

Haley knew that. She also knew that too much fever was counterproductive. “Is she getting any medication for fever?”

“Yes.” Nancy tapped her watch. “It won’t be due for another hour, though.” She stood over the crib watching Rose breathe. “Is her breathing better since respiratory therapy was in?”

“I can’t tell.”

Nancy rubbed the side of her finger over Rose Petal’s cheek. “She’s a beautiful child.”

Pride filled Haley’s chest, shoving out anxiety for that one miniscule moment. “Thank you. She’s the best baby in the world.” Tears pushed into her nose again.

The nurse noticed and patted her shoulder. “I know this must be really hard for you, seeing your baby this sick, but try not to worry so much. She feels your anxiety.”

Haley nodded. “Hard to do.”

“You’re not handling this all alone, are you?” Nancy’s gaze was soft with compassion. “Is anyone else available to give you a break?”

“I’ll be fine,” Haley said.

“The hospital has a chaplain if you need someone to talk to.”

“I called my pastor.”

“Good.” The nurse patted her arm. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Then she was gone and Haley was once again alone with her tortured thoughts and a very sick baby.

The sky darkened into night and the streetlights outside came on. The parking lot looked shadowy, the concrete black and shiny as a few silhouetted people walked to their cars.

An ambulance screamed somewhere below, slowly dying to silence. Haley shuddered. Someone else, many someones, filled this vast medical complex with their stories, their heartaches and their illnesses.

Exhaustion drained her strength. The hospital was built with a wide padded window seat that converted to a bed for a small adult. The nurses had placed blankets there for her use. Haley wanted to sleep but she couldn’t. She dared not, not after this afternoon. If she’d been watching Rose Petal instead of napping, would she have sought medical help sooner? Would it have mattered? She didn’t know, but the question haunted her.

Seated in the vinyl chair next to the crib, she propped her aching feet on the window seat and leaned her head back against the chair. Her neck and shoulders were tight. Her eyes burned. She could hear Rose Petal. She could hear the machines, the elevator ping and the occasional voices from the hall. So she closed her eyes. Just for a minute.

* * *

Creed stopped first at the nurse’s desk for an update. Relieved at the news, he hefted the two backpacks and headed toward room 312. The trip home and back had taken longer than he’d planned. Half the town seemed to know of Rose’s illness. They’d seen the chopper’s arrival and a contingent had driven out to the airport—Uncle Digger and Miss Evelyn with Pastor Ed, Reverend Wally and a few other friends. They’d come, offering love and encouragement and prayer.

His heart warmed. Whisper Falls had good people.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The monitors beeped. Rose breathed her raspy breath. All else was quiet and shadowed in semidarkness. Only a light from the bathroom, its door partially opened, illuminated the space like a long, narrow spill of melted butter.

He let the backpacks slide to the floor in one corner and tiptoed to the crib. On the opposite side, Haley slept in the chair, her head crooked to one side. She had to be exhausted to sleep that way.

He knew she was. His insides clenched. She was beautiful asleep, with her face relaxed and her hair wild, one hand stretched into the crib to touch the baby. Creed resisted the temptation to kiss her. No use waking her, even if she did look like Sleeping Beauty.

Baby Rose opened her eyes and stared up at him. Any minute he expected to hear the sweet, gurgling, gooing sounds she made whenever he talked to her. He loved the way she’d wave her arms and kick her legs in excitement and her mouth would form funny little shapes.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I’m back. Did you miss me?” He nudged her fisted hand with an index finger and thrilled when she stared into his face and wrapped her fingers around his. “I missed you, too.”

He stood like that until the back of his neck hurt and Rose closed her eyes again. A mix of emotions drifted through him like leaves on the wind, not knowing where to settle.

His gaze moved to Haley, the woman who both plagued and fascinated him. He was pretty sure he was in love with her, but he wasn’t fool enough to hook up with a woman whose values didn’t match his. They seemed to come from different worlds and were headed in different directions. Rose’s situation proved how far apart they were on fundamental matters. Like kids and family.

And yet, as much as he’d appreciated the outpouring of love from his friends, he’d been in a rush to get back to Little Rock to be with Haley.

He was in trouble and he knew it. He’d prayed all the way, asking God for guidance.

A nurse came in to change the IV bag.

Creed put his finger to his lips and pointed to Haley. The nurse smiled and nodded, moving quietly.

Haley stirred, huddling into herself as if she was cold. After the nurse departed, Creed unfolded the standard issue white blanket and tenderly spread it over her. She snuggled deeper and made a satisfied, humming noise. He watched her for a while, thinking this is how it would be if she was his. He’d watch her sleep. Listen to her soft noises. Bask in her earthy lemon scent all through the night.

He sighed, burdened by the yearning he’d held at bay for years while he served his country and then while he built his business. His tour company wasn’t stable yet but he’d make it. Was he ready for the next big step? Settling down, marriage, family? He thought he was. But was Haley God’s choice?

Her eyes popped open. She’d caught him staring.

“Hi,” he said.

“Creed.” A slow smile bloomed. Her voice was sleep-drenched and husky, her eyes heavy-lidded. “You came back.”

“Couldn’t stay away.”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” She sat up, letting the blanket fall to her lap as she quickly glanced toward the sleeping baby. She looked worried and maybe ashamed at having dozed.

“It’s okay to rest, Haley. You have to. I was here, keeping an eye on her. The nurse says she seems better.”

“I can’t tell. She’s still lethargic and breathing hard.” She looked to the large round clock above the mirrored sink. “Her breathing treatment is due soon.”

“That should help.” Creed perched on the wooden arm of the chair, more as an excuse to be close to Haley than a need to sit. “Why don’t you take the window seat and get some real sleep. I can take the chair and keep watch.”

“You’d do that?”

“All night partiers like me don’t mind staying up.”

She batted his arm. “You work too hard to be a partier.”

“Busted.” He smiled, a softness inside him. “But admit it, you thought I was a wild playboy pilot when we first met.”

“And you thought I was a dingbat hippie.”

He hiked an eyebrow. “Well...”

She batted him again and he laughed quietly.

“I know,” she said, grinning. “You still think I’m an oddball.”

“Well, you
are
the artsy type.” Before she could whack him again, he snagged her hand and kissed the top. He couldn’t seem to help himself. He wanted to touch her. “So, how about it? You take the window bed. I’ll take the chair. You sleep. I watch.”

“No, I’m good. How long did I sleep?”

“No idea. I’ve been here maybe an hour.”

“Wow. I didn’t hear a sound.”

Anyone who could sleep soundly in a hospital really
was
exhausted. “Hungry?”

“Are you?”

“I grabbed a bite in Whisper Falls. Brought us each a backpack, too, in case we’re here for a while.”

“Seriously?” She sat straight up. “You brought clothes and—” she touched her tangled hair “—a hairbrush?”

“I did.” He unzipped one of the bags and took out a brush. “Cassie came over and helped me out. She knows about woman stuff and where you keep things.”

Haley reached for the brush, but he pushed her hand aside and stepped behind her chair.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” Brushing her hair was the least he could do. Truth was, he wanted a reason to touch her, to care for her.

Too tired to argue, Haley settled back and let him stroke the brush through her long locks. Her hair was soft. Brushing it released the scent of shampoo and warm scalp, the lemony essence of Haley he smelled in his dreams.