Page 9 of Her Snowbound Hero

Knowing she had every right to be worried and angry at the idiot who’d take advantage of her, he grasped her hand, holding it loosely.

After a moment, a sniffle; her fingers tightened around his. “Garret?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we there yet?”

Chapter 4

NOT LONG AFTERshe’d asked the age-old question in an attempt to lighten the intensity of the moment and the effect Garret holding her hand had on her emotions—who knew holding hands could feel so good?—they pulled beneath the hospital’s canopied E.R. entrance. He hurried out of the Cadillac to get help.

Darcy watched as he disappeared inside the double doors, sending up a prayer of thanks because they’d made it safely. She’d been found, and not by a knife-wielding psycho.

The doors slid open again and Garret emerged with several smocked individuals. Within moments she was placed in a wheelchair and whisked inside. Her last glimpse of Garret was as he stood beneath the harsh outdoor lights talking with someone, his dark hair and long wool coat very dramatic against the snowy backdrop.

“When are you due?” an aide asked.

“Mid-March. I’ve got s-six weeks left.” They rushed by the waiting area and veered left.

“Have you had any problems before now?”

Forcing herself to focus on one problem at a time, she nodded reluctantly. “Cramping, if I overdid things. But my doctor in Florida ran some tests and said everything was normal.”

The woman wheeled her into an elevator that soared to the second floor with stomach-jarring swiftness, and off they went again. Darcy saw a Labor and Delivery sign posted above a set of doors and after keying in a code, the aide pushed Darcy through as another contraction hit.

“Almost there, honey.”

She wheeled Darcy into a room and then disappeared, leaving her in the hands of two waiting nurses. The contraction ended and they helped her step out of the wheelchair. While one nurse went to work on removing Darcy’s coat, the second nurse shut the door and snagged a cart from its position near a wall, pushing it toward the bed. It was loaded down with supplies and a machine that looked like something off a space ship.

“What’s that?” Darcy asked, wishing absurdly that Garret had accompanied her. She could’ve used a hand to hold.

“Don’t worry about anything, hon,” the older of the two nurses said. “We’re going to get you in a gown and then we’re going to start you on some fluids. After that, we’ll hook you up to a monitor to get a reading on the baby’s heartbeat, and find out what’s going on. I’m Betty,” the woman added, “and this is Debra. If you need anything and we’re not in here, you press that call button right there on the bed. But don’t get up, and don’t mess with these machines. If something slips or moves, you call us. Got it?”

Darcy nodded dazedly.

“Good. Now let’s get you settled in and all hooked up.”

She begged a trip to the bathroom, hoping the act would ease the cramping. It didn’t. When she emerged, the nurses helped her out of her blouse and propped her against the bed as another contraction built in intensity. While she breathed through it, they stripped her down, guiding her arms into a gown and snapping it closed with minimal fuss. Their impersonal attitude allowed her to set aside her embarrassment over her hairy legs and ratty underwear.

At least Garret’s not seeing it.

The nurses wrapped straps around Darcy’s stomach, inserted an IV into her arm with surprising gentleness and fired so many questions at her she could barely answer one before the next query came. Finally the nurse who’d been prepping her with needles, blood pressure cuffs and monitors stood back and checked her handiwork.

Betty finished taking notes in the chart, then smiled. “We’re all set. Debra and I are going to check on our other patients, but we’ll watch the monitors from the desk. You just lie there and relax. Mr. Tulane specifically asked for Dr. Clyde, and you’re in luck because she’s still here. She’s in delivery right now, but soon as she’s done, you’ll meet her.”

“Where’s…Mr. Tulane?” She’d almost referred to him as Garret, but here and now the closeness she felt after the rescue didn’t seem appropriate.

“I have no idea. You must have been so frightened. Were you stuck out there long?”

She wasn’t sure. “A while.”

“Well, we’ll take good care of you. Don’t worry about anything.”

She knew they needed to go, that they had other patients to tend to, but she didn’t want to be alone. “Wait—please.” She made herself meet their gazes. “Am I going to lose my baby?”

Both nurses fussed and smiled at her before they left to get someone to help her with the necessary paperwork. But neither of them answered her question.

When they were gone, Darcy wrapped her arms around her belly and held tight, ignoring the pull of the tape holding her IV in place.