“Hey. Look at me.”
Reluctantly, Sara opened her eyes, afraid of what she’d find. Cade’s face swam before her, and she blinked away tears to see him gazing at her—no, connecting with her, as she so needed.
“You’re right,” he said, “I can’t begin to know what it’s like havin’ a baby—or what it must feel like to be without the anchor of a name I knew was mine, or a place to belong. But I do have some experience with goin’ without the tie of loved ones. Without someone to belong to.”
His gaze faltered briefly, but then came back home to hers. “And I won’t have you feel so alone as that.”
Like dawn breaking over the horizon, she saw in Cade’s brown eyes so many things she’d hoped for, without even realizing it: reassurance, encouragement, confidence—and maybe a little bit of love.
Or was it her exhaustion, the pain, the utter despair she had been fighting that made her think she saw all those things?
Then Cade said, “I’m here to tell you, though, that wherever both of you came from, you and your baby, you’re here now—in my house, in my bed, right where you need to be.”
He wove the fingers of one of his large, capable hands in hers. “For now, you belong here, with me. And I won’t let you down.”
It seemed unreal, but at his words Sara felt the pain, the fatigue, her every doubt and fear for her child, dwindle and wane like an echo across both space and time. They were all still there, most certainly, but manageable now.
Some part of her, though, still doubted. She had to be sure. “Just…don’t leave me, Cade.”
“I won’t,” he vowed, low. “Not for anything.”
Her eyes spilled over with new tears, for she knew then in her heart that she had had the right instinct in finding this man. Or perhaps it hadn’t been her doing at all, and she’d been guided to him, not by some mysterious note writer, but by a force much larger than them all.
It was a gift, she realized, this trust in a force—call it heavenly or fateful or whatever—that she somehow had lost faith in, in that slumbering memory of hers.
Tremulously, Sara smiled at the man who had given her such a gift. Cade’s gaze dropped to her mouth, then came around again to hers. What she saw there overwhelmed her anew.
It was that connection, to be sure, but stronger than ever, made so by the naked longing in his eyes. The power of it reached out to her, and she couldn’t help but respond with an answering yearning that rose up from deep inside her, almost from another life, another time completely—
The next contraction hit.
Cade helped her pull herself forward, her shoulders hunched and her chin lowered as she bore down hard, a guttural moan of effort rising from her chest. His fingers laced with hers, and her nails dug into his palm. He didn’t bat an eyelash.
“I can see the head crowning,” he told her, not without some excitement. She slumped back as the contraction subsided. “Next one, give a big ol’ push, and I bet we’ll have him.”
“Really?” she panted, not daring to believe it.
“You bet.” He massaged her calves, seeming to know without a word from her that they were seconds from cramping. “When the baby does start to come out, though, I’m gonna have to concentrate on it, you know. So I won’t be able to hold your hand. You okay with that?”
She nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
“Good. I already told you, I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
And he didn’t, even as her agony increased twofold with the next contraction. Yet they were making progress.
“C’mon, darlin’, you’re doin’ great,” Cade urged, both hands now flush up against her intimately, ready and waiting to receive precious cargo. “Big push now. You can do it, darlin’. You can.”
Sara pushed with all her might, putting everything into it, holding back nothing, for now she knew someone would be there to see her through to completion.
“There you go,” Cade exhorted her. “I’ve got his head, just give me the rest of him—”
“Him?” she puffed, straining to see. “Is it a boy?”
“I don’t know yet,” Cade said, full upon his knees by now, every muscle in him seeming to strain with her in empathy. “Just one more push, baby. One more, just for me…”
She couldn’t let him down. Where she found the strength, she didn’t know, but it came to her, and one last time, Sara bore down. The last of her apprehension disappeared as she watched the miracle unfold as he received her child into his large hands.
First off, he checked its parts. “Hoo-haw! It is a boy! You got yourself a son.”
“We do?” she breathed. “Oh, let me see him!”
“In a sec, darlin’.” With barely a pause, he snatched up an eyedropper and suctioned the infant’s mouth and nose.
From her position, the babe looked a good weight, easing some of her apprehension that he was early. But why was he so still?
“Is he…is he all right?” she asked, fear creeping into her voice despite herself. “What did the doctor say to do if the baby’s not responding?”
He didn’t answer. “Cade, what did he say!”
“He didn’t…we didn’t get that far in the conversation,” he said curtly, still suctioning feebly.
“But why…?” Then it dawned on her. “The phone—it did go out, didn’t it?”
Again, Cade refused to answer, his wide shoulders hunched over the tiny form, his face a study in fierce determination. His silence, however, was all the confirmation she needed.
Oh, what kind of woman was she not to protect her child better, to put him at such risk?
It was her worst fear revealed.
“Cade, please, I can’t lose this baby!”
“You won’t. He’s just gettin’ his bearings.”
Frantically, Sara pushed herself upright, trying to see, trying to reach for her baby. “But he’s not moving—”
“He will!” Cade hit her with his bloodshot gaze, and she saw his own fear in it. Yet she saw something else, too, enduring as the day was long. “He’s going to be fine. I promise you.”
Then, as if in answer to that promise, the baby sputtered briefly, filled his lungs and, with a grimace, gave a mighty cry.
Grabbing a towel, he dried the baby off, and Sara could see for herself that the infant was quickly gaining color. His tiny fists waved about as he gave another gloriously vigorous wail.
Cade placed him on her stomach. “There you go, darlin’—a healthy baby boy.”
“Oh, you sweetheart!” She caressed the babe, wet and warm and still connected to her through the umbilical cord. But he was his own person now, even if they would forever be connected.
Hands on his thighs, Cade smiled across the bed at Sara. Even with his dark hair matted with perspiration and his eyes ringed with exhaustion, Sara thought she’d never seen anything so noble and true as this man. She’d hold the image in her heart forever.
Downstairs, a clock chimed, and she could tell he counted the strokes, as she did, twelve in all.
“Happy New Year, darlin’,” he whispered.
She couldn’t not do it. Whoever she was, wherever she’d come from, she had to reach out to him one more time with her gaze—reach out, grab hold, and connect.