Page 6 of Not the Bodyguard's Baby
“I left the bottle in the fridge. I’ll meet you out front.” Elle hurried from the room.
Adam put on a spare jacket before slinging the diaper bag over his shoulder and grabbing the carrier by the handle. Andrew and Alan waited near the reception desk, not hiding their smiles. Elle handed him the bottle as the phone rang. Adam simply nodded at his brothers, not wanting to start a conversation.
“Adam! You need to take this.” Elle held up the phone.
Adam took the phone with his free hand. “Mr. Adam speaking.”
“Adam Hastings? This is Dr. Tamara Brooks from the behavioral-health unit at Eastland hospital. Do you have a moment?”
* * *
Raindrops raced down the window. September traced a trail with her finger. Would he come? Dr. Brooks had said he would be here by three o’clock. The clock above the nurse’s station read 2:55. Her labs had come back clear, and the lactation specialist had given her permission to nurse Harmony after reviewing the medication Dr. Brooks prescribed. She had skipped pumping an hour ago and was ready to feed her baby. An SUV pulled into the parking lot. She pressed closer to the window to see a man in a heavy coat climb out and open the back door. He emerged with a car seat covered with a blanket she didn’t recognize. The man turned and looked up at the hospital.
Adam.
She turned from the window and took a deep breath.
The practiced words left her mind as she waited in the silent room. Dr. Brooks had pointed out there were other things besides the postpartum depression September needed to work through. One of them was dealing with the father of her baby. September hadn’t mentioned to the doctor that the man who now carried her daughter into the hospital wasn’t the father. But she needed to talk to him worse than she did Harmony’s biological father. Only three other people in the world knew the identity of the birth father—the man who didn’t want Harmony; September’s manager, who wished the child and its father didn’t exist; and the woman who’d helped her hide from both these past months.
September paced the room. How long would it take Adam and Harmony to get through security? Adam couldn’t bring his keys, phone, or gun into the unit. Purses and bags were not allowed beyond security either. She wasn’t sure what that meant for Harmony’s diaper bag.
She smoothed the front of the pink nursing top. The boxy top was more flattering than the gray scrubs but barely, as it was made of the same material and general shape. Not that flattering would help. The mirror confirmed the fact earlier, showing her a face worthy of a bait click blog, “Where is September, and What Does She Look Like Now?” She barely resembled her last round of publicity photos. A good thing because sooner or later, even with HIPAA laws, someone was bound to recognize her and divulge the news.
The door opened, and September turned to face her future and her past.
Mother nature kicked in at the sight of Harmony, and September crossed her arms to hold the flannel nursing pads in place. “Thanks for coming and bringing Harmony.” She held out her arms, wishing she could hold them both. But she’d given up the opportunity to hold the man long ago.
Adam shifted the baby in his arms. The carrier must not have been able to leave the security area. “She is sleeping.”
September sank into the glider rocker. Her arms still empty, she pointed to the sofa next to her. “Sit for a moment?”
Adam took up more than half the sofa. She had forgotten how big he was, but his size had never intimidated her. Even now, knowing she needed to explain things, she wasn’t scared. How different he was from—she couldn’t follow that line of thinking.
“I owe you an explanation. Thank you for taking Harmony.” She swallowed back the emotion. “I have postpartum depression, and the only safe place I knew for her to be was with you.” There. She’d said the words Dr. Brooks had encouraged her to. She took a deep breath before adding what he needed to understand. “I tried to kill us.”
4
“I’mglad you chose a different option.”
Adam struggled to keep his face passive. He suspected September’s situation had escalated to dire from Dr. Brooks’ call a few hours ago, but thoughts of suicide and infanticide were beyond what he’d expected. Internet searches had helped him fill in the gaps. A phone call to his mother had backed up the articles. For many women, a new baby wasn’t as joyful as a Hearthfire movie made motherhood seem. He’d been surprised to learn his mother had also been under a therapist’s care after Alex and Abbie were born. From the moment he walked into the room, he knew that whatever September was experiencing, it wasn’t an act. Her eyes were dull, devoid of their usual sparkle, the brown more reminiscent of mud than the gingerbread he remembered. Her hair hung limply around her face and was longer than a year ago, the ends split and frizzy. At first he thought she had two black eyes, but once she sat down, he recognized the dark circles as signs of extreme fatigue. Dozens of questions raced through his mind. Unfortunately, Dr. Brooks had cautioned him not to ask any. “The most important part of this visit is to reassure the mother the baby still accepts her.”
She rubbed her arms. “Shyla will kill me if she ever finds out, especially if my being here leaks to the tabloids. I am registered under my real name, but they are using my middle name, Rayne. I need you to use it too.”
Interesting that the manager didn’t know where she was. How had September managed that? Shyla always hovered around September with the persistence of a starving mosquito. “I think I can remember to call you Rayne.” The baby stirred and stretched in his arms.
September held out her arms. “Please?”
Adam stood and settled the child in September’s arms.
“Hey, sweetheart, Mommy missed you. But I put you in a safe place just like I said I would.”
Adam strained to hear what she was saying.
“Do you like Adam? Some people think he is big and scary.”
The baby turned to face her mother. September raised her head. “Please hand me the blanket.”
She draped the blanket over her shoulder and covered the baby’s head. His first reaction was to snatch the blanket back to keep her from suffocating the child, but then he realized she intended to nurse the baby. Adam studied the print on the wall as little sucking noises filled the room.
