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Still, she wasn't giving up. She bent to her task once more, this time lifting the swaddled baby in her arms to cover his mouth and nose with her mouth as she puffed air into his underdeveloped lungs. It took several tries, but at last he gurgled. Then, with a spluttering cough, his face crunched into a grimace and he whimpered.
It was a pitiful cry, more like a kitten mewing, and Sam thought he looked d.a.m.ned pale-probably, he guessed, from loss of blood. But pale was a h.e.l.lova lot better than blue: He was alive. The sound of his cry was enough to make Lynn start crying-just in time for Erik to come running into the room.
At the sight of the baby, the new father staggered a little, and Sam used the moment to remove his hand discreetly from Lynn's now-flaccid stomach and get off the bed. He didn't know if she'd start bleeding again when she tried to deliver the baby's life-support system, but for now she was okay. In the meantime, he was having a hard time taking his eyes off Katie and the baby.
While Lynn greeted Erik with lots of tears and kisses, Sam moved to stand by Katie's shoulder, watching the way she touched the infant, listening to the soft, coaxing sounds she made.
"So, you didn't wait for me."
Doc Cabot's voice brought his gaze to the doorway as the older man walked in, carrying his black bag.
"This one hardly waited for me," Katie returned cutting the newborn's umbilical cord, then quickly wrapping him back up in the blanket. "I only got here a little over an hour ago."
Stopping beside her, Doc took in the scene in a glance. "And I'll bet it feels like it's been an eternity," he murmured.
"Mmm," she mumbled back-and with a pointed glance at the infant in her arms, added, "And it's not over."
"Hmm. Well, let me get washed up." He set his bag down and walked quickly toward the bathroom, rolling up his sleeves.
The room was silent. Too silent, Sam thought. Erik had propped Lynn against his chest so she could see their son; the infant now had an IV in his arm and, on his face, a baby-size oxygen mask that was attached to the portable tank sitting on the floor. It was pretty clear what the score was: This baby might still die. And Sam hated knowing there wasn't a d.a.m.ned thing he could do about it.
When Doc returned, he watched for an instant as Katie checked the baby's lungs for maybe the forty-seventh time in the past five minutes. Then he filled two syringes out of different bottles on the worktable, picked up a couple of other items, and sat himself down with a grunting complaint about his old bones on the opposite side of the bed beside Lynn.
"What's the ETA on the chopper?" Katie asked him, scribbling notes on a clipboard.
"About thirty minutes, I'd say," Doc answered as he gave Lynn one of the shots he'd prepared. "I sent Scott over to the McCarron place with his van to wait for them. I'd give it another ten, after they land, before they get here."
Sam caught the look the two of them exchanged. It was too long. With ten minutes back to the chopper, then forty-five minutes to Marquette, plus whatever time it took to get Lynn and the baby loaded up for transport, they were looking at almost two hours before they could get the baby to the hospital.
"What is it-about a hundred miles to Marquette?" he asked.
Katie's "Hm-mm" was distracted as she finished the note she was writing.
"Steve could have him there in a half hour, maybe less."
Her head jerked up, and Sam saw the spark of hope flicker in her eyes as her gaze collided with his.
"I can have you at Steve's in ten minutes, tops-except, what if I leave and. . . ." He hesitated, his gaze flas.h.i.+ng toLynn, who along with Erik, was listening intently.
Doc cleared his throat, and Sam glanced down to see him giving Lynn the second injection he'd prepared. Sam didn't understand what Doc was trying to say, but when he looked at Katie, it seemed she did.
"We can go," she told him. Then, as her gaze dropped to the baby, she added, "I can take the stethoscope and the oxygen tank, but I'll need some way to keep him warm. . . . Ah. Got it." She stood quickly, saying, "Here. Hold him for a second."
Sam reached automatically, but it startled the h.e.l.l out of him when she put the blanket-wrapped bundle in his hands. d.a.m.n, for all the infant weighed, it could have been just the blanket he was holding. Katie had cut a tubular gauze bandage and tied one end closed to make a funny-looking hat for the infant's head, and all he could see was the wrinkled little face behind the plastic mask. He stared at the baby, fascinated, for several moments. Then Katie's movements caught his attention, and his gaze flashed upward. In the next instant, his mouth went dry.
"Kate, what are you doing?" Lynn's tone was slightly horrified.
Erik uttered a strangled sound and quickly turned his head.
Doc answered the question. "She's keeping him warm, young lady-the best way there is."
That sure as h.e.l.l was the truth, Sam thought, but . . . G.o.d, it took his breath away to watch Katie strip off her clothes without a second's hesitation, until she was bare to the waist. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swayed as she moved up close to him-close enough that her nipples brushed the backs of his hands, and he felt them pucker and harden from the contact.
"Okay," she said, unwrapping the infant until he was naked, too. "Now, just turn him around and lay him up against me like . . . like this. That's right. And if you can take one of those sheets and tear it . . . Hurry-before he gets cold."
Sam's hands shook as he s.n.a.t.c.hed a white sheet off her worktable, found the middle of it, and gave it a hard yank. Half of it was still too big, and he folded the piece in half again before wrapping it under the baby, like a sling, being careful to avoid the oxygen and IV tubes.
"That's good," Katie said as he brought one end of the sheet over her shoulder, the other end under her arm, and tied the ends in the middle of her back. "His head's up, and I can still get to him in a hurry this way. Help me put my arm . . . Thanks."
One at a time, he pulled the sleeves of the jumpsuit up her arms, then b.u.t.toned it over the small lump the baby made. When he got to the b.u.t.ton just below her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, he paused, his gaze lingering on the deep valley between them that the sling and the baby's head didn't hide. Then his gaze rose to meet hers.
Three aching heartbeats later, he spoke. "Is that good?"
She nodded once, slowly.
Sam knew it was crazy. The baby belonged to somebody else, and those somebodies were watching every move he and Katie made. Everything in sight was b.l.o.o.d.y, they were in a G.o.d-awful hurry, and the whole situation could hardly have been any worse. But he wanted her-right then, right there, he wanted every sensual inch of her. He wanted her gentleness and her sense of harmony with life and her unaffected, earthy s.e.xuality. He wanted to take her and claim her and protect her. . . .
But he'd hurt her. The pain was there, in her dark eyes- pain that the past hour had only made worse. It was torturing her just to be with him, and he knew what it must have cost her to ask for his help. Yet the only choice either of them had was to play out the scene. Somehow, though, when it was over, he swore to himself and to G.o.d, he'd find a way to make her stop hurting-or die trying.
Bending quickly, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the portable oxygen tank off the floor, easing the strap over Katie's shoulder.
"Let's get going," he said.
She nodded. "Two seconds." Then she went quickly to Lynn's side.
"Oh, Kate." The young woman reached out, her hand fluttering over the tiny lump of her baby.
"I'll take good care of him," Katie told her. "I promise."
"I know you will. I'm just . . . scared."
"I know." Katie smiled a little. "But he's bigger than I thought he'd be, and that's a good sign. Let me get him to the hospital, where they can give him what he needs. He'll be waiting for you and Erik when you get there."
The new parents both nodded, and Katie swiftly gathered up a suction cup, a stethoscope, and her clipboard, telling Doc she'd leave her notes on Lynn for him to bring. Sam draped her jacket over her shoulders, then motioned her ahead of him, out the door.
"Sam."
Lynn's voice stopped him when he reached the doorway, and he swung back to meet her gaze across the room.
"Thank you."
He shot her a wink and a lopsided smile, but as he started out again, he caught the look Doc was giving him. It was knowing and wise and . . . amused. Sam couldn't figure what the h.e.l.l was so funny about any of this, but he got the message: He didn't have anything to worry about as far as Bill Cabot was concerned.
Giving Doc a brief nod, he followed Katie down the hall.
Sixteen.
"You sure Lynn's going to be okay?"
"Yes, I think so." Kate hung on to the seat with one hand and the baby with the other, watching the headlights bounce on the rutted dirt road as Sam tore through the pitch-black woods. "You stopped the bleeding-all of it that I wouldn't have considered normal, anyway. And Doc gave her a shot of blood coagulant, just in case. She should be fine."
"So, is this baby going to make it?"
That was a harder question. "I don't know," she replied. "He has a collapsed lung, but I didn't want to try to do anything about it-not under the conditions back there-unless I absolutely had no choice." Looking down, she touched the top of the infant's stocking-capped head. "He needs a lot of work, but if we can get him to Marquette pretty fast, I think he's got a chance."
"Well, let's hope Steve hasn't left yet," Sam muttered.
She shot him a quick look. "Left to go where?"
"Pittsburgh. He talked about flying the Mentor down tonight, but I'm guessing he's put it off because of the cloud cover."
Kate braced herself as they came to the end of the track and Sam swung onto Main Street with barely a pause, ran the stop sign at the intersection, and shot out of town over the straight, even road.
"Sam?"
"Hmm?"
"You're too young to have been in Vietnam."
"Right."
"Have you ever seen a baby born besides this one?"
"Nope. And I was never in the medical corps, either."
They exchanged a glance in the darkness, and Kate half expected to hear him growl something about not needing her to lie for him. She didn't feel a sc.r.a.p of guilt about it; the end had more than justified the means. But he didn't say anything, and she figured it was because he'd decided he could put up with her protecting him this time. After all, he wasn't going to give her the chance to make a habit of it.
"Steve's not home."
Standing on the Fournier's front porch, Sam listened in grim silence as Cressie explained her husband's whereabouts.
"He came in from work and did his ground checks and whatnot, then decided not to leave tonight because of the weather. Then he got a call from the garage to go jumpstart somebody at the campground over by-"
"Is the plane fueled up?" Sam interrupted her.
"Yes, he did all that, but-"
"Did he get a report from the weather service?"
"Yes," she said. "He always writes it down and puts it in his flight case. But I don't understand what- " "Where's the flight case?" She waved her hand in a vague gesture. "In the plane, I think, but what's this all about?" Sam glanced across the dark yard to his Jeep, where Katie sat, waiting. Then he looked at the plane-a hazy shadow looming in the field beside the barn.
Drawing a ragged breath, he turned back to Cressie. "Katie's got a premature baby she has to get to Marquette. And that's all I've got time to tell you."
That was enough to put a look of horror on Cressie's face. "Oh, no! Whose is it? Not Lynn Nielsen's!"
He nodded, asking, "Where are the kids?"
"Asleep, but-"
"Can you drive a Jeep?"
"Yes, but . . . Sam wait!"
"No time to wait." With a hand holding her elbow, he was pulling her down the steps and across the yard, saying, "I want you to drive my Jeep to the far end of the field and park it, with the lights facing straight at this end. Back it up to the edge of the trees-but not under them. You can do that, can't you?"
"Sure," she said, stumbling a little in the wake of his rapid strides. "But what about-"
"Good. When you've parked it, get out and go stand on the side of the field, at least a couple hundred yards away. Then, after I take off, drive the Jeep up here and park it for me, will you?"
"But you're not going to-"
"Yes, I am. Tell Steve I'll pay him back for the fuel."
"He won't mind about that, for heaven's sake! I mean, it's a baby, and it's . . . Oh, Lord, I . . . It's so dark and cloudy, and they said it might storm! Isn't there some other way?"
Some other way that won't make me scared. That was the problem, Sam thought. Fear would look for any excuse to get out of doing the right thing.
Twenty feet from the Jeep, he swung around to face her and grabbed her shoulders. "Cressie, do you want to see your sister happy?"
Her eyes widened. "Of course, I want to see her happy. What kind of question-"
"Take my word for it. This'll do it. Now you go do what I said, and just keep telling yourself you're making Katie happy." And I'll tell myself the same thing.
Catching her hand, he pulled her along, letting go of her only to yank open Katie's door, as he said, "Let 's go."
With a glance at Cressie, Katie took the stethoscope out of her ears, reached for the hand he offered her, and climbed out. "Hi, Cress. Did Sam tell you what happened?"
"Sort of. Is Lynn okay?"
"So-so. I'll tell you about it later."
"Where's the baby?"
"In here." She patted the front of her jumpsuit as he put an arm around her and guided her toward the plane.
A few seconds later, when the Jeep roared by them and took a turn around the corner of the barn, she hesitated, glancing over her shoulder, then at him.
"What's Cressie doing?"
"Marking the end of the runway."
Several steps farther on, she glanced over her shoulder again.