Soul Deep (19 page)

“Morning sickness?” Janet asked.

Thank God she’d never have to deal with that
at least.

Megan nodded. “They say it’s a sign of a
healthy pregnancy, but it sure doesn’t feel that way.”

Nate reached out, touched Megan’s shoulder,
offering her silent support.

Then a little girl with blond hair and bright
blue eyes bounded into the kitchen. She eyed Janet. “Are you
Grandpa Jack’s girlfriend?”

Unsure how Jack would want her to answer,
Janet changed the subject. “You must be Emily. Your grandpa has
told me so much about you.”

Emily gave her a shy smile. “You’re
pretty.”

“Thank you.” Janet didn’t know why the
child’s words touched her, but they did.

“I’m going to be a big sister,” Emily said.
“My daddy breeded my mommy, like Chinook with the mares.”

Megan coughed, choking on her tea.

Jack looked over at Nate. “What the hell did
you tell this child?”

Nate shrugged. “It’s not what we said. It’s
what she put together. She does live on a stud farm, you know.”

Janet fought not to laugh. “Congratulations!
You must be so excited.”

But Emily’s fleet little mind had moved on.
“Grandpa Jack is making chocolate chip flapjacks. He only makes
those for Sunday breakfast, but we weren’t here last Sunday, so I
said he should make them two days in a row. Right, Grandpa
Jack?”

“Right, Miss Emily.” Jack stirred a cup of
chips into the batter. “Now, skedaddle and wash your hands.”

Emily darted from the room.

Janet touched her hand to Jack’s arm. “She
really does have you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?”

Megan shook her head.

Nate rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”

But Jack only smiled, his gaze warm. “She’s
not the only one.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

On Monday, Janet went to work at her new job.
It seemed the sensible thing to do. She couldn’t just turn her back
on a 20-year career and leave the Agency to be with a man she’d
known for only a week. Everything with Jack was so new.

It took her less than a month to realize that
being sensible was stupid.

The job was every bit as boring as she’d
feared it would be—meetings, meetings, and more meetings. Sitting
at a desk forty hours a week was hard on her hip. But worse than
that, she missed Jack, missed the mountains, missed the rhythm of
daily life, the fresh air, the horses.

Already, the Cimarron felt like home. She’d
left so many things at the ranch—toiletries, makeup, clothes—that
she now had her own closet in Jack’s bedroom. Nate and Megan, who
were also in Denver during the work week while Megan finished her
first semester of law school, had made her feel like part of the
family, inviting her over for supper after work. Nate had even come
to shovel her walk without being asked.

But Janet lived for the weekends when Jack
would pick her up and drive her back to the Cimarron, where he
spoiled her with good food, good conversation, and sex so amazing
it blew her mind. She’d never had a lover like him.

She’d told him this one night when she’d lain
beside him, sexually spent and replete, her body floating.

He’d drawn her into his arms, kissed her.
“That’s because no man has ever loved you the way I do.”

She knew he wanted to ask her to marry him,
knew he was giving her time to get used to her new job, her new
routine, her new life. When Megan showed Janet her wedding ring and
oh-so-casually asked what kind of ring she’d always wanted, Janet
knew the day was drawing near.

But whatever plans he was making got put on
hold when Janet learned she was being sent to Quantico to attend a
week-long conference about intra-agency cooperation. She’d be
leaving on a Sunday and getting back on a Saturday, which meant
losing four whole nights with him.

“We’ll make up for it when you get back,” he
said. “I promise.”

# # #

Jack held Janet’s hair while she threw up,
then got her a cold washcloth.

She looked up at him, misery etched into her
pretty face. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“You made such a wonderful dinner, and I
can’t keep it down.”

“Don’t even think about that. It’s not
important.”

Jack was worried. Janet had been sick ever
since coming home from Quantico. At first, they thought she’d
picked up the stomach flu at that damned conference. Now it seemed
she’d come down with something more serious, some lingering
food-related illness. He’d had big plans to surprise her with a
proposal and an engagement ring, but had put all of that on hold
until she was well.

“I want you to see the doctor tomorrow.”

She nodded. “I’ll call first thing in the
morning and make an appointment.”

“Let’s get you to bed.”

She nodded, reached for his hand.

He helped her to her feet, made sure she had
her cane, then went to turn down the covers while she brushed her
teeth.

She walked out of the bathroom, climbed into
bed. “God, I feel hungry now.”

“I don’t think I’d trust your stomach if I
were you.” He pulled the duvet up to her chin. “I’ll go make you
some tea.”

Downstairs, Nate was reading Emily a bedtime
story. “How is she?”

“She lost her supper—again. She’s going to
see her doctor tomorrow.” He walked into the kitchen to find Megan
doing the dishes.

“I’m heating water for tea. It might help
calm her stomach.”

Jack gave Megan a pat on the shoulder. “You
must have read my mind.”

Now twelve weeks pregnant, Megan had had a
rough go of it this past month, sick every morning and exhausted.
She’d struggled to make it through her classes and get her studying
done each night. So far, her professors had been understanding, and
Nate had taken up much of the slack with Emily so that Megan could
sleep and study.

“You go rest. I’ll finish the dishes.”

“Thanks.” Megan shot him a smile. “I still
have five chapters of reading to go.”

“You’ll get it done. I have faith in
you.”

By the time Jack had finished the dishes and
wiped down the table, the tea kettle was whistling. He poured
boiling water into a small porcelain teapot, added a bag of mint
tea leaves, then put the teapot together with a mug and a small jar
of honey on a tray and carried it to the bedroom, only to find
Janet sound asleep.

He set the tray down on the nightstand,
brushed a strand of hair off her cheek, and watched her sleep.

# # #

Janet sat on a chair in the exam room, hoping
she wouldn’t throw up on the floor and watching while Dr. Rivera, a
kind young woman with dark shoulder-length hair, typed in Janet’s
symptoms—nonstop nausea, vomiting, dizziness, fatigue.

Dr. Rivera turned to her. “There are a
variety of tests we can run, but first I’d like to do a thorough
exam. Undress down to your underwear.”

She gave Janet a gown, then left her alone to
take off her sweater and leggings, returning a few minutes later
with a nurse. She listened to Janet’s lungs and her heart, looked
in her throat and ears, then asked her to lie back and began poking
around on her abdomen. “When was your last period?”

“It’s been a year, I guess. Menopause hits
the women of my family early.”

“Have you had unprotected sex in the past few
months?”

Janet stared at her. “You don’t think…”

“I think you might be pregnant.”

Janet’s pulse spiked. She sat up, clutching
the gown around her like a shield. “I don’t understand how that
could happen. I’m forty-five. I’ve been pre-menopausal for four
years.”

“I’ve had women get pregnant naturally who
were older than you are. Unless a woman goes a full calendar year
without a period, we don’t consider her to be in menopause. You
could go six or seven or even eleven months without a period and
then suddenly ovulate.”

Janet shook her head. “I just don’t think
it’s possible.”

“Slip out of your panties. I’d like to do a
pelvic exam, if that’s okay.”

Janet took off her underwear, then lay back
on the exam table and let Dr. Rivera put her feet in stirrups,
wincing at the pain caused by the cold, hard speculum.

“Try to relax,” Dr. Rivera said.

Right. Sure.

How was Janet supposed to do that?

“Your cervix is blue, a good indicator of
pregnancy. I’m going to palpate your uterus.” She was silent for a
moment, her pushing and prodding causing Janet discomfort. “I’d
definitely say you’re pregnant. What you’ve been experiencing is
hyperemesis gravidarum.”

Janet covered her eyes with her hands. “I
don’t believe this.”

“I take it this pregnancy is a surprise?”

Major understatement.

“You could say that.”

“Do you have a relationship with the
father?”

“Yes, but he certainly won’t be expecting
this.”

No, he wouldn’t. She’d told him she couldn’t
get pregnant.

Dr. Rivera kept a soothing hand on Janet’s
leg, turned to her nurse, and spoke quietly. “Go get me a
Doppler.”

Janet was helped to a sitting position, then
given privacy to dress again. As she put on her clothes, she was so
stunned she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, her motions
automatic, her emotions and thoughts jumbled.

The doctor returned with a little device in
her hands. “I’d like to listen for the baby’s heartbeat, if that’s
okay.”

This entire situation was surreal.

“Sure.” Why not?

And maybe unicorns would fly through the room
in the meantime.

Fighting hysterical laughter, Janet got back
up on the table, lay back, and pushed her leggings down to her hips
like Dr. Rivera asked.

“This will be a little cold.” The doctor put
some goo on the end of a small, wand-like probe, then pressed the
probe against Janet’s lower abdomen, moving it slowly, pressing it
deeper, angling the head of it this way and that.

Squish. Squish. Squish. Squish.

“That’s it. That’s your baby’s heartbeat. I’m
guessing you’re about nine weeks at this point. You’ll need an
ultrasound to be certain, given that we don’t have a date of your
last menstrual period.”

Janet listened to the little sound, stunned
to think a baby was growing inside her—Jack’s baby. She hadn’t
planned on being a mother, and she knew Jack hadn’t planned on
being a father again. Was this really happening?

“I’m going to put a call in to a high-risk
OB. Because of your age, your pelvic injuries, and because of your
hyperemesis, you’re going to need to see a high-risk doc. In the
meantime, I’m admitting you to St. Anthony’s. Your dizziness is due
in part to dehydration and low electrolytes. You need rest and IV
fluids and possibly medication.”

The situation kept getting stranger.

“You want me to go to the hospital?”

“You can go home first, if you want, pack a
few things together. Head to St. Anthony’s, and go straight to
admitting. I’ll call in the admitting orders.”

Dr. Rivera went on, explaining what
hyperemesis gravidarum was and how it was treated, then telling
Janet about some of the risks associated with pregnancy in older
woman. Janet barely heard what she said, one thought running
through her mind.

How was she going to tell Jack?

# # #

Jack grabbed his keys and headed straight to
the garage, shouting over his shoulder to Nate. “She didn’t say
what was wrong, only that it wasn’t serious. Her doctor wants to
admit her for IV fluids and rest. She wants me to meet her at her
place and drive her to the hospital.”

Nate followed him. “Call as soon as you know
anything.”

Jack climbed into the cab of his truck,
almost forgetting to raise the garage door before backing out and
heading down the road toward the front gate, his mind holding on to
one thought: She’d said it wasn’t serious.

The drive to Denver seemed to take forever,
traffic snarling the moment he hit that proverbial pain in the ass
known as I-70. He called Janet twice along the way, just to hear
her voice and make sure she was okay.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Drive safely,
okay?”

It took almost two hours to reach her house.
It felt like an eternity. He parked, walked up the sidewalk, and
knocked.

She opened the door, and he could see she’d
been crying. She slipped into his arms, a troubled expression on
her face. “We need to talk.”

He sat on her sofa beside her, held her hand.
“I’m listening.”

“Jack… Oh, God.” She buried her face in her
hands for a moment, then looked into his eyes. “I’ve decided I’m
going to quit my job, retire early.”

“You’re leaving the FBI?” What did this have
to do with her being sick—unless she was really very ill?

“Yes … because I’m pregnant.”

Jack heard the thrum of his pulse against his
ears. “You’re … what?”

Had the floor just tilted beneath his
feet?

She burst into tears, words tumbling out of
her in a rush. “I know I told you I couldn’t get pregnant, but
somehow I did. I thought I was menopausal, but I guess I wasn’t
quite yet. The doctor said some women can still ovulate even when
they haven’t had a period for almost a year, so I guess that’s what
happened, but I swear this wasn’t deliberate. I didn’t try to trick
you or—”

“Hey, come here.” He drew her into his arms,
held her. “So, you’re pregnant.”

She sniffed. “The doctor said I’m about nine
weeks.”

That meant she must have conceived that first
week she’d stayed with him.

Well, I’ll be damned.

Jack held back a surge of elation. Janet
hadn’t planned on having children, and given her injuries, he
wasn’t sure she could carry a baby safely to term. In the end, what
happened next wasn’t his choice to make, but hers.