Page 30 of Gabriel's Angel

As the tears rolled, she began to laugh. The pain and the terror were forgotten. “A boy. A little boy.”

“With a loud mouth, ten fingers and ten toes.” He reached for her hand and gripped it hard. “He’s perfect, angel.”

Their fingers linked over the baby, and the cabin echoed with the high, indignant wails of the newborn.

***

She couldn’t rest. Laura knew Gabe wanted her to sleep, but she couldn’t shut her eyes. The baby, nearly an hour old now, was wrapped in blankets and tucked in the curve of her arm. He was sleeping, she thought, but she couldn’t stop herself from tracing a fingertip over his face.

So tiny. Five pounds, seven ounces, on the vegetable scale that Gabe had unearthed and scrubbed down. Seventeen and a half inches tall, and with only a bit of pale blond peach fuzz covering his head. She couldn’t stop looking at him.

“He’s not going to disappear, you know.”

Laura glanced up at the doorway and smiled. Fatigue had left her skin almost pale enough to see through. Triumph had given her eyes a rich glow. “I know.” She held out a hand in invitation. “I’m glad you came in,” she said as he sat on the bed. “I know you must be exhausted, but I’d like you to stay a minute.”

“You did all the work,” he murmured, running a finger down the baby’s cheek.

“That’s not true, and that’s the first thing I want to say. We wouldn’t have made it without you.”

“Of course you would have. I was basically a cheerleader.”

“No.” Her hand tightened on his, demanding that he look at her. “You were as responsible for his life as I was. I know what you said about having your name on the birth certificate, about helping us, but I want you to know it’s more than that. You brought him into the world. There’s nothing I can ever do or say that could be enough. Don’t look like that.” She gave a quiet laugh and settled back among the pillows. “I know you hate to be thanked, and that’s not what I’m doing.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No.” She shifted the baby from her arm to his. It was a gesture that said more, much more, than the words that followed it. “I’m telling you that you got more than a wife today.”

The baby went on sleeping peacefully, cupped between them.

He didn’t know what to say. He touched the tiny hand and watched it curl reflexively. As an artist he’d thought he understood the full range of beauty. Until today.

“I’ve been reading about preemies,” he began. “His weight is good, and from what the book says a baby born after the thirty-fourth week is in pretty good shape, but I want to get you both into a hospital. Will you be strong enough to travel into Colorado Springs tomorrow?”

“Yes. We’ll both be strong enough.”

“We’ll leave in the morning, then. Do you think you could eat now?”

“Only a horse.”

He grinned, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to give her back the baby. “You may have to settle for beefsteak. Isn’t he hungry?”

“I imagine he’ll let us know.”

Just as Laura had been, he was compelled to trace the shape of the child’s face. “What about that name? We can’t keep calling himhe.”

“No, we can’t.” Laura stroked the soft down on his head. “I was wondering if you’d like to pick his name.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you must have a favorite, or a name of someone who’s important to you. I’d like you to choose.”

“Michael,” he murmured, looking down at the sleeping infant.

Chapter 6

San Francisco. It was true that Laura had always wanted to see it, but she had never expected to arrive there with a two-week-old son and a husband. And she had never expected to be shown into a tall, gracious house near the Bay.

Gabe’s house. Hers, too, she thought as she rubbed her thumb nervously over her wedding ring. It was foolish to be jumpy because the house was beautiful and big. It was ridiculous to feel small and insecure because you could taste the wealth and the prominence just by breathing the air.

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