“To tell the truth, I’m having trouble with this, Anne,” Buck told her. He sat hunched over the steering wheel, a sure sign of his agitation. “I’ve got a lot on my mind that we haven’t had a chance to discuss. The Jacks are playing hardball in the negotiations on my new contract. It’s a disadvantage that I’m thirty-seven years old. They claim they’re uncertain whether my arm will hold out. Plus, they’re harping on the bad publicity that came after Casey’s death. I couldn’t help it that he was at my house when his heart gave out, but they don’t see it that way. The press hinted at steroid abuse and no matter how I deny it, I think the Jacks suspect I had something to do with it. So a baby right now is a complication I didn’t expect. I guess you could say it’s…well, it’s just bad timing. Frankly, I feel blindsided.”
He saw their baby as a complication? “When would have been a good time, Buck? I’ve apologized for the way I went about getting pregnant, but I’m not sorry for conceiving the baby. It’s done.”
“I would never have expected you to do something like this, Anne.”
“Well, I did it.” She crossed her arms stubbornly. “And I’m sorry it’s bad timing for you. You’ll simply have to get over it. It’s not like I can just reverse a pregnancy. There’s only one way to do that and I know you don’t want me to have an abortion. Do you?”
The words were tossed off impulsively, but when Buck didn’t instantly deny it, she looked at him in shock. He had a right to be upset, she gave him that, but surely he wasn’t contemplating aborting their baby. Appalled, she stared at his stony profile. “I’m waiting to hear you answer that, Buck.”
“Hell, Anne, it’s just that—” He broke off abruptly. “Hold on!” he shouted over the screech of brakes.
Anne’s startled gaze caught sight of a deer square in the Porsche’s headlights. Later, she’d recall the flash of its white tail as Buck instinctively swerved to avoid the animal. But with the maneuver, the Porsche fishtailed off the pavement onto the gravelly shoulder of the road. As it careened wildly, Anne realized they were going to crash. She had the odd sensation that the whole thing was happening in a kind of distorted slow motion. Her mind took it all in, the blur of trees as the car hurtled at breakneck speed, the sudden specter of a green highway sign and Buck’s desperate wrench on the wheel to miss it, then the drag as pavement gave way to a grassy bank. With the car now moving sideways at a dizzying speed, she realized it was going to tumble down into a deep ravine. Her last thought before the sickening impact was of her baby.
Please, God…
When Anne was wheeled out of the recovery room it wasn’t Buck who appeared instantly at her side. It was Marcie Frederick. Anne had no strength—or heart—to greet her. She still reeled from the news delivered by her doctor in recovery as she regained consciousness.
Miscarriage. Her baby, gone forever.
“So, how’re they treating you, sweetie?”
Anne felt a tear leak out of the corner of her eye. “I can’t say I recommend this place.”
“I know, darlin’.” Marcie lifted her hand and squeezed it. “I’m so sorry.”
“I d-don’t think I can b-bear it, Marcie,” she whispered brokenly. “I wanted this baby more than anything in this world.”
“Of course, you did.” Marcie dug in her purse for a tissue and gently blotted at Anne’s tears. “I feel silly for not guessing you were pregnant. After three pregnancies myself, I should have recognized the signs.”
“Nobody knew. I wanted to wait until all chance of m-miscarriage was over.” She felt another overwhelming urge to cry. “I’m sorry. I just can’t—”
“It’s okay, you just go right ahead and cry, honey. You’ve had more than enough trauma tonight to make anyone cry. That was a bad crash. I’m just thankful you both survived.”
Her mind was fuzzy, but she had no trouble recalling the accident. Buck, angry and speeding. The deer appearing out of nowhere. The horror as the car tumbled down into that steep gully. Anne closed her eyes. “Is Buck okay?”
“He’s banged up, but okay,” Marcie said as an orderly appeared. She didn’t volunteer details and Anne didn’t ask. Nobody spoke as they rode in the elevator to the third floor. Anne had been told that most patients recovered quickly from a miscarriage, but she’d taken a bump on her head in the crash and a few scrapes and bruises, so she would probably be staying in hospital for a day or two.
“Here we are,” the orderly said, maneuvering the gurney out of the elevator. “Third floor. We’ll just get you tucked in all nice and cozy, then the nurse will get a reading of your vitals and you can take a nice long rest.”
When he was gone, Marcie looked at her watch. “I expect Monk to show up any minute now. He’s with Buck on another floor and I made him promise to call us as soon as he can get away.” When there was no response from Anne, she asked, “Do you recall much of what actually happened in the accident?”
“I had my seat belt on, but my head hit the side window and I think I was out for a minute or two.”
“Time and details have a way of becoming distorted in a situation like that,” Marcie remarked.
“I remember enough.” Anne’s gaze was focused on the view from the window. “People were on the scene right away and the EMTs had me out and on a stretcher pretty quickly, I think.” She paused, remembering. “All I was aware of is blood…so much blood…”
“And Buck?”
“He was unconscious. I remember that. He didn’t have his seat belt on.”
Marcie clucked with disapproval. “That guy! What was he thinking? The high muckety-mucks at the Jacks aren’t going to be happy to hear that.” She picked up Anne’s chart and studied it with a professional air. She was a nurse, but hadn’t worked since having her first child. “They didn’t give me much information while I was waiting for you in the O.R.”
“Will I live?” Anne asked. Not that she cared at the moment. She didn’t care about anything.
“Yes, darlin’. And you’ll have more babies, too. Don’t you fret.” Marcie slipped the chart back into a holder on the wall. “I just wanted to make sure nothing was removed to keep that from happening. You and Buck can still have a houseful of young’uns.”
“I don’t think that’s in Buck’s life plan,” Anne said, turning her face to the window.
“Aww, no man thinks he wants a baby until he gets a look at that precious little face.”
“Buck is different, Marcie. He really doesn’t want any children.”
“Well, you could fool me. He’s so good with kids. They hover around him like bees to a honey pot wherever he shows up.”
“Those are other people’s children,” Anne said bitterly.
She saw the look on Marcie’s face and regretted saying anything. Fortunately, they were interrupted when a nurse appeared to get Anne settled. She was told how to use the remote which operated the television set, how to lower or raise the bed, how to turn a light on and off and how to summon help, should she need it. Since anybody could have figured it all out without help, Anne tuned the woman out long before the monologue was over.
“While you were in surgery your daddy called,” Marcie said when the nurse left. “He and your new stepmother were frantic. They were as surprised as the rest of us to hear about your pregnancy. Even though they know you’re okay, they’ll want to hear it from you. I told them you’d probably need to sleep off the anesthetic before making any calls.”