One Christmas Knight

Oh, Lord, help me, he thought. What should I do?

It was right then that his headlights picked up the sign for a rest area that was coming up, next exit, just one mile ahead. A rest stop-that was a whole lot better than one of the crossroads, with their overpasses and uphill off-ramps, where he would stand a good chance of jackknifing his rig. And there would be a rest room, water, maybe even a phone. He let out a breath that was almost relief, figuring if that wasn’t a sign of some kind, he didn’t know what was. Almost as if the decision had been taken out of his hands.

“Bella…” It came from the sleeper on a soft cushion of air, much like a sigh.

Jimmy Joe, who was busy changing radio channels, glanced back and said, “I beg your pardon?”

She was sitting up straight, rocking back and forth slightly. Her face was pale, her eyes dark and calm. She gathered her hair away from her face with one hand and took a quick breath, then smiled. “Bella. That’s what my family calls me. And most of my friends. You want to hear a joke? It means-”

Channel 19 came crackling in, drowning out the rest. He unhooked the mike and held it while he waited for a lull in the chatter, but when one came he didn’t hit the Talk button right away. Instead he looked back at Mirabella and got her eyes for just a moment, and he said softly, “Means ‘beautiful’ -I know that much Italian. And I never heard a more fittin’ name.”

He grinned at the stunned silence he got in reply as he thumbed on the mike and intoned, “Breaker, one-nine… This is Big Blue Starr. I’m gon’ try an’ get off here at this rest stop east of Adrian. Uh… I got a lady havin’ a baby here, so if any a’ you drivers happen to run across any help out there, I’d ‘preciate it if you’d send it my way. I’m gon’ be listenin’ to channel 9 for a while… Anybody knows anything about delivering babies, I’d sure like to hear from you over there… Ten-four.’

He hung up the mike and got the channel changed just as the rest-stop exit sign was picking up the glow of his headlights. He flashed his running lights and switched on his turn signals and sent up a prayer.

“Hang on,” he muttered to Mirabella as he turned the Kenworth’s nose onto the snow-and ice-choked ramp.

Chapter 8

“Gotta make a change here. Got a’ alligator in the road.”

I-40-Texas

While the big truck churned slowly along the exit ramp, carving its own tracks in the frozen, unblemished white, Mirabella focused on its driver’s hands. They looked so strong and sure, so steady on the wheel. And she thought, We’ll be okay in those hands, my baby and I… Everything will be all right.

The truck came to a lumbering stop. There was an explosive hiss of air through the brake lines and then, except for the quiet grumble of the idling diesel engine, silence. Jimmy Joe set the brakes and flipped switches, then turned in his seat to grin at her. “Well,” he said with a little half-shrug, “here we are.”

She arranged her own lips into a smile for his benefit, although there was still a hollow feeling in her chest, and asked, “Where, exactly, are we?” It looked pretty much like nowhere to her-eerie in its emptiness, without so much as a light showing in the distance.

“We’re at a rest stop.” He let out a breath and stood, leaning across the passenger seat to peer out the side window into the darkness. “Not much of one-pretty much just picnic tables and potties. I expect the rest rooms’re gonna be a mite chilly-”

“Rest rooms! Seriously?” That right there was enough to pick up her morale. “Oh, God-where?”

He gave her a doubtful look. “You sure you want to go out there? I was thinkinv maybe I could rig up somethin’…you know…” He paused, coloring a little. “Portable, or somethin’.”

“Over my dead body,” said Mirabella through her teeth. At some point, modesty was probably going to become optional, even for her. But not yet. Not yet. “I can walk. Let me out of here-now. Open the door.”

He made an exasperated noise as she looked ready to bowl right over him, but he managed to get a good firm grip on both of her arms. “Okay, now hold on, wait a minute,” he said as he steered her backward into the sleeper. “At least put a coat on first, okay? One of mine-that one a’yours isn’t worth a darn…” As he spoke he was opening a door, at the same time taking the precaution of maintaining a hold on one of her elbows as if he expected her to make a break for it as soon as he let go. “Here,” he said, pulling out a Levi’s jacket lined with sheepskin, “this oughta do it-put this on.”

“It’s my bottom half that’s wet,” she told him as he held the jacket for her and guided her hands into the sleeves as if she were a three-year-old.

And suddenly hearing herself, she thought, I can’t believe I told him that. A man and a stranger, and I told him as easily as if we were best friends and I’d known him forever.

It just didn’t seem real to her. None of this did. The world she lived in-her carefully planned, controllable universe-had vanished. Everything was different. All the rules had changed.

“What’s the matter?” Jimmy Joe’s body had gone tense and still. “You havin’ another one?”

She shook her head rapidly and tried to explain. “I just…don’t believe this is happening. It’s not… Nothing’s the way I planned…”

“Hey.”

He turned her toward him, his brow furrowing as he watched his hands tug the two halves of the jacket together just below her chin, slip inside the collar and under her hair and carefully lift it free, then return to fuss unnecessarily with the lay of the collar and lapels. Only when he had them smoothed to his satisfaction did his eyes finally move upward to her face, while his fingers, left on their own, slipped back into the warm places along the sides of her neck as if they belonged there.

The warmth, the feel of them there, made her want to close her eyes, but he cradled her head as if it was something precious and tilted it slightly so that she had nowhere to look except into his eyes.

“Now, you listen,” he said, his voice gone soft and growly. “Everything’s gonna be okay, you hear?”

She nodded, but the gentle movement of his sensitive fingers along the cords of her neck made her shiver. So he repeated it: “Everything’s going to be okay.” Then he closed his eyes and pulled her gently forward. She felt the tickle of his exhaled breath in her hair as his arms came around her, and then her eyes were closing, too, and she was leaning into him, holding on to his strong, hard body as she accepted with a sigh the support and comfort he offered.

How wonderful this feels, she thought, her skin, her cells, her being soaking up the unfamiliar sensation of masculine hands drawing gentle patterns on her back. As if even they knew…

I wish I could stay like this…forever.

Knew that for her, forever would be counted in minutes…seconds…fetal heartbeats. And measured in the tolerance of a tiny but independent creature for being squashed between two large and inconsiderate bodies.

They both felt the kick at the same time and drew apart, laughing. Jimmy Joe coughed and said, “That’s some little slugger you got there,” and hooked a thumb in his pocket and shifted his feet in endearing awkwardness.

“Tell me about it,” said Mirabella, gasping at the continuing convulsions taking place in her belly.

“Well,” he said, “I reckon that’s a good sign.”

She gave a short, soft laugh. “Yeah, I guess…” And then, frowning: “Jimmy Joe?” As it often did, unguided by thought, her hand had come to rest on the quivering bulge just above her navel, where it moved in gentle, circling strokes. Emotion crept up on her, stealing the words, but still somehow she managed, “I, uh…thanks. For stopping…for picking me up. For…you know. Being here.” And although she didn’t want it to, the wobble in her voice added, And for everything, we both know is still to come.

As clumsy as it was, he seemed to understand, murmuring huskily, “Shh…no problem.” And all the while his eyes followed the movement of her hand on her belly, his own hand hovering in the space between them as if he very much wanted, but wasn’t sure he had the right, to touch.

Seeing that, all at once Mirabella’s heart felt swollen, and something very much like grief stung the backs of her eyes and throat. Why couldn’t it have been? she thought. Oh, why couldn’t I have found someone like this before? I wouldn’t have given up! It wouldn’t have had to be like this! Dammit, where were you?