fallen.'
'It gave me pleasure to bring them inside, and I'm certain the exercise was good for me. I hate being cooped up all day. Please let me stand. I'm feeling fine now.'
He did as she requested but continued to hold on to her arm until he was sure she was steady. 'What can I do to help?'
'Would you start a fire? I put the wood in the hearth, but I didn't want to light it until I got back from the barn.'
'You carried wood inside?'
'It is my fault the baby's coming early, isn't it? I carried wood down from the hills early this morning. I went back up again this afternoon to collect more. It gets so cold and damp at night… I wasn't thinking, and now my baby's going to-'
He interrupted before she could get all worked up again. 'Calm down, Isabel. Lots of women do chores right up to the delivery. I was just concerned about the possibility of falling. That's all.'
'Then why did you say…'
'Falling,' he said again. 'That's all I was thinking about. You didn't fall, so no harm was done. Now, stop worrying.'
She nodded and started across the room. He grabbed hold of her arm, told her to lean on him, and slowed the pace to a crawl.
'It's going to take me an hour to get to the bedroom if you keep treating me like an invalid.'
He moved ahead and opened the door. It was pitch black inside.
'Don't move until I get the lantern. I don't want you to-'
'Fall? You seem terribly worried about that possibility.'
'No offense, but you're so big in the middle you can't possibly see your own feet. Of course I'm worried you'll fall.'
She actually laughed, and she hadn't done that in such a long time.
'You need to get out of your wet clothes,' he reminded her.
'There's a pair of candles on the dresser to your right.'
He was happy to have something to do. He felt awkward and totally out of his element. He didn't I realize his hands were shaking until he tried to light [the candles. It took him three attempts before he succeeded. When he turned around, she was already folding back a colorful quilt on the bed.
'You're drenched. You really need to get out of your wet clothes before you do anything else,' he said.
'What about you? Do you have a change of clothes?' she asked.
'In my saddlebags. If you don't need help, I'll start the fire; then I'll go back to the barn and take care of the horses. Have yours been fed?'
'Yes,' she answered. 'Be careful with Pegasus. He doesn't like strangers.' She stared down at the floor with her hands folded together. As Douglas turned to leave, she called out to him, 'You're coming back, aren't you?'
She was fretting again. The last thing she needed to worry about now was being left alone. He had a feeling they were in for one hell of a night, and he wanted her to conserve her strength for the more important task ahead.
'You're going to have to trust me.'
'Yes… I'll try.'
She still looked scared. He leaned against the doorframe and tried to think of something to say that would convince her he wasn't going to abandon her.
'It's getting late,' she said.
He straightened away from the door and went to her. 'Will you do me a favor?'
'Yes.'
He pulled the gold watch out of his pocket, unclipped the chain, and handed it to her. The chain dangled down between her fingers.
'This is the most valuable thing I own. My Mama Rose gave it to me, and I don't want anything to happen to it. Pegasus might get in a lucky kick, or I
might drop it while I'm drying down my sorrel. Keep it safe for me.'
'Oh, yes, I'll keep it safe.'
As soon as he had left the room, she pressed the watch against her heart and closed her eyes. She and her baby were safe again, and for the first time in a long while, Isabel felt calm and in control.
Chapter Two
She had turned into a raving maniac. She didn't care. She knew she was losing the last shreds of her control, and somewhere in the back of her mind lurked the realization that she wasn't being reasonable. She didn't care about that either.
She wanted to die. It was a cowardly thought, but she wasn't in the mood to feel at all guilty about it. Death would be a welcome respite from the hellish pain she was enduring, and at this stage, when one excruciating cramp was coming right on top of another and another and another, death was all she was interested in thinking about.
Douglas kept telling her everything was going to be just fine, and she decided she wanted to stay alive long enough to kill him. How dare he be so calm and rational? What did he know about anything? He was a man, for the love of God, and as far as she was concerned, he was totally responsible for her agony.
'I don't want to do this any longer, Douglas. Do you hear me? I don't want to do this any longer.'
She hadn't whispered her demand. She'd bellowed it.
'Just a few more minutes, Isabel,' he promised, his voice a soothing whisper.
She told him to drop dead.
Honest to God, he would have liked to accommodate her. He hated having to watch her in such misery. He felt helpless, inept, and so damned scared, he could barely think what to do.
On the surface, he was presenting a stoic facade, but he wasn't at all certain how long he could keep up the pretense. Any moment now she was bound to notice how his hands were shaking. Then she would probably become afraid again. He much preferred her anger to her fear, and if it made her feel better to rant at him, he wouldn't try to stop her.
She accidentally knocked the water basin over when she threw the wet cloth he'd pressed against her forehead.
'If you were a gentleman, you'd do what I asked.'
'Isabel, I'm not going to knock you out.'
'Just a little clip under the chin. I need to rest.'
He shook his head.
She started crying. 'How long has it been? Tell me how long?'
'Just six hours,' he answered.
'Just six hours? I hate you, Douglas Clayborne.'
'I know you do, Isabel.'
'I can't do this any longer.'
'The contractions are close together now. Soon you'll be holding your baby in your arms.'
'I'm not having a baby,' she shouted. 'I made up my mind, Douglas.'
'All right, Isabel. You don't have to have the baby.'
'Thank you.'
She stopped crying and closed her eyes. She told him she was sorry for all the vile names she had called him. He calculated he had a few minutes left to mop up the water from the floor and go get more towels before another contraction hit. He was pulling the door closed behind him when she called out. 'Leave it open so you can hear me.' She had to be joking. She was shouting loud enough for most of Montana to hear. His ears were still ringing from
