'I'm sure there's a way to…' He stopped in the middle of his sentence, for it had just occurred to him that she had gone several minutes without panting.
'Did the pain go away?'
She looked surprised. She put her hand on her swollen middle and smiled. 'Yes, it did. It's gone now.'
Thank God, he thought to himself. 'You're really all alone here? Don't look at me like that, Isabel. You've got to know by now I don't work for Boyle.'
She slowly nodded. 'I've learned to be very distrustful. I've been alone for a long time.'
He tried not to let her see how appalled he was. A woman in her last months of pregnancy should have been with people who cared about her.
Anger began to simmer inside him. 'Has anyone from town looked in on you?'
'Mr. Clayborne, I…'
' Douglas,' he corrected.
' Douglas, I don't think you understand the severity of my situation. Boyle has the route cut off. No one gets in here without his approval.'
He grinned. 'I did.'
The realization that he had indeed gotten through made her smile again. Odd, but she was also beginning to feel more in control too.
'Boyle's men must have gone home as soon as it started raining. I think they go back to his ranch every night when the light fades, but I can't be sure.'
She straightened away from the wall to brush the dust off her skirt, and suddenly felt her legs give out. She was horrified. She leaned back again so she wouldn't fall to her knees and turned her face away from him as she explained in a whisper what had just happened.
She sounded frightened and ashamed. Douglas immediately went to her side and put his hand on her shoulder in an awkward attempt to comfort her. 'It's all right. It's supposed to break.' He tried to sound like an authority on the subject. In reality, he had just summed up everything he knew about childbirth with that one simple statement.
'Something's wrong. The baby's not due for at least three to four more weeks. Oh, God, it's all my fault. I shouldn't have scrubbed the floors and done the wash yesterday, but everything was so dirty and I wanted to keep busy so I wouldn't think about having the baby alone. I never should have…'
'I'm sure you didn't do anything wrong,' he interrupted. 'So stop blaming yourself. Some babies decide to come early. That's all.'
'Do you think…'
'You didn't cause this to happen,' he insisted. 'The baby's got a mind of his own, and even if you'd been in bed, your water still would have broken. I'm sure of it.'
He seemed to know what he was talking about, and she stopped feeling guilty. 'I think my baby's going to come tonight.'
'Yes,' he agreed.
'It's odd. I'm not in any pain.'
They were both whispering now. He was trying to be considerate of her feelings. She was trying to get over her embarrassment. The man was a complete stranger, and, oh, God, she wished he were old and ugly. He wasn't though. He was young and extremely handsome. She knew she would probably die of mortification if she let him help her bring her baby into the world, because she would have to take her clothes off and he would see…
'Isabel, you about finished hiding from me? You've got to be practical about this. Come on,' he coaxed. 'Look at me.'
It took her a full minute to summon up enough courage to do as he asked. Her face was burning with shame.
'You're going to be practical,' he repeated as he lifted her up into his arms.
'What are you doing?'
'Carrying you back to the house. Put your arms around me.'
They were eye to eye now. He stared at her freckles. She stared at the ceiling.
'This is awkward,' she whispered.
'I don't think the baby cares if his mother feels awkward or not.'
He carried her out of the stall, paused long enough to take the rifle away from her and prop it against the post, and then continued on toward the door.
'Be careful,' Isabel told him. 'The rifle's loaded. It could have gone off when…'
'I unloaded it.'
She was so surprised she looked him in the eye. 'When?'
'Before I gave it back to you. You aren't going to start fretting again, are you?'
'No, but you're going to have to put me down for a minute. I have to take care of Pegasus first.'
'Are you talking about the stallion?'
'Yes.'
'You're in no condition to get near him.'
'You don't understand. He cut his left hind leg, and I need to clean it before it becomes infected. It won't take long.'
'I'll take care of him.'
'Do you know what to do?'
'Oh, yes. I'm very good with horses.'
He felt her relax in his arms. ' Douglas?'
'Yes?'
'You're good with women too. I was wondering…'
'Yes?'
'About the delivery. Have you ever helped a woman give birth?'
He decided to ease her worry by hedging his answer. 'I've had a little experience.' With horses, he silently added.
'Will you know what to do if something goes wrong?'
'Nothing's going to go wrong.' The authority in his voice didn't leave any room for doubts. 'I know you're scared and feeling alone…'
'I'm not alone… Oh, God, you're not going to leave me, are you?'
'Don't get excited. I'm not going anywhere.'
She let out a little sigh and tucked her head under his chin as soon as he stepped outside the barn. The rain was still coming down hard, and he was sorry he didn't have anything to wrap around her. The log cabin she called home was approximately fifty yards away, and by the time he had carried her to the door, she was as drenched as he was.
A single lantern provided the only light inside the cabin. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, but what he noticed most of all was the scent of roses that filled the air. To the right of the entrance was an oblong table covered with a yellow-and-white-checked gingham tablecloth, and in its center sat a crystal vase filled with at least a dozen white roses in full bloom. It was obvious she had tried to bring beauty and joy into the stark reality of her life, and the simple, feminine gesture made him ache for her.
The cabin was spotless. A stone fireplace faced the door, and on the mantel was a cluster of silver frames with photographs. A rocking chair with a yellow-and-white-checked cushion had been placed to the left of the hearth and a tall-backed wooden chair with spindly legs sat on the opposite side. Two knitting needles protruded from a burgundy ball of yarn on the footrest, and long strands coiled down to the colorful braided rag rug.
'You've got a real nice place,' he said.
'Thank you. I wish my kitchen were larger. I put up the drape to separate it from the main room. It's always such a clutter. I was going to clean it up after I finished in the barn.'
'Don't worry about it.'
'Did you notice the roses? Aren't they beautiful? They grow wild near the tree line behind the field. Parker planted more on the side of the house, but they haven't taken root yet.'
Douglas 's practical nature reasserted itself. 'You shouldn't have gone out by yourself. You could have
