Cinderella's Secret Agent. Ingrid WeaverЧитать онлайн книгу.
“Maggie, I think you’re in labor.”
She released his hands and grabbed the front of his shirt. “I can’t be. I still have three weeks to go. There are too many things I have to do. The apartment’s a mess. I haven’t even set up the crib and I didn’t get to the laundry and—”
“Everything else can wait. I suspect this baby won’t.”
“But it’s too early.”
“You need to get to a hospital.”
“It’s just a false alarm. They talked about that in the prenatal classes. Mild contractions are perfectly normal in the last trimester, so there’s no point rushing anywhere until I’m sure—” She felt a distinct pop deep inside. Seconds later, warm fluid gushed between her thighs. She dipped her head, watching in disbelief as the liquid ran down her leg to form a clear puddle around her sandals. “Oh, my,” she whispered.
Crockery hit the floor nearby in a teeth-rattling crash. Joanne rushed to her side. “Maggie! Oh, my God! Is that…”
“I think my water just broke.”
“Oh, my God! Laszlo!” Joanne screamed. “She’s having the baby!”
“No. She can’t. This is the restaurant. Maggie, you can’t have baby here.”
The other customers in the coffee shop, alerted by the commotion, turned their heads to get a better look. Conversation halted briefly, then recommenced with an excited babble.
Joanne spun around, wringing her hands. “Oh, my God, oh, my God. What do we do?”
Maggie couldn’t reply. Another contraction caught her in a vise, turning her abdomen to steel. She moaned, tightening her hold on Del’s shirt. One of his buttons flew off and hit the floor.
“Laszlo, call nine one one,” Del ordered. “Now.”
It seemed to last forever. The world shrank behind a red haze as her entire body seized. Maggie tasted a moment of panic. This was no false alarm. It was happening. It really was happening.
She was going to have the baby.
The panic retreated as quickly as it had arisen. What was she afraid of? This is what she wanted. The months of waiting were over. Everything she had gone through—the heart-ache of Alan’s desertion, the struggle to stretch her budget, the discomfort of this pregnancy—all of it faded to insignificance at the enormity of what was taking place.
She was going to have the baby.
Now.
Tears were streaming down her cheeks as the contraction retreated. They could have been from the pain, but they also could have been from the joy. A child to love, her own little family of two. It blew her away.
Del wiped her cheeks with his knuckles. “It’ll be all right, Maggie. Don’t be afraid. Everything will be fine.”
“I’m not afraid.” She grinned, licking the tears from the corners of her mouth. “How could I be afraid? My God, Del! I’m having a baby. My baby. Isn’t that the most fabulous thing in the world?”
The room in the back of the diner was crammed with boxes of surplus supplies and a battered metal desk where Laszlo did his bookkeeping. It was dim and stuffy, but at least it was private. Del knelt beside Maggie as she lay on the makeshift mattress he’d fashioned out of a flattened cardboard box and layers of towels. Slipping his arm beneath her back, he propped her head and shoulders up on the cushion he’d ripped from Laszlo’s chair. “How’s this?”
“Better,” she said. “Thanks. This is really nice of you, Del. Laszlo and Joanne looked so upset, I’m glad you thought of…bringing me back…here…oh!”
“Maggie?”
She inhaled sharply, her face flushing red. “Uh. Here…comes…another one.”
Del caught her hand, breathing with her as she worked her way through the contraction. Where the hell was that ambulance? The pains were coming fast and hard now, three minutes apart and more than a full minute long. Beneath the thin fabric of Maggie’s maternity dress, her abdomen was clenching into the shape of a loaf. The standard SPEAR firstaid training didn’t include any obstetrics, and this situation was a far cry from the calvings Del had witnessed on his parents’ farm, but he was fairly certain the baby’s birth was imminent.
He glanced at the clock on the wall as the contraction finally eased. Longer than the last one. Damn. “The paramedics should be here any minute.”
“She’s as impatient as I am,” Maggie said.
Del rubbed his palm lightly over her taut abdomen and shifted his gaze to her face. “I think you’re right about that.”
“My baby. She must know how much I want to see her.” She exhaled shakily and smiled.
Del barely saw the way Maggie’s dark blond hair was plastered to her forehead, or how her features tightened from the agony her body was going through. Her smile was so radiant, it eclipsed everything else.
The smile turned to a bared-teeth grimace as she rode out another pain. Del did what he could to help her through the next contraction, and each one after that, encouraging her to breathe while her body worked and then using conversation to distract her during the brief respites.
Yet he didn’t have to do all that much—she was a marvel of courage. He had known seasoned agents who couldn’t handle pain as well as Maggie Rice. This woman was refusing to let anything dampen her spirit.
But that didn’t really surprise him. He’d been admiring Maggie’s spirit since the first time he’d seen her. She always had a warm smile and a pleasant word for everyone. Open, caring and genuinely kind, she was a sharp contrast to the world he inhabited.
That was why he felt so drawn to her. He’d started coming to the coffee shop because it was convenient, situated only a few blocks from the surveillance site he and Bill were working. It hadn’t taken him long to learn the details of the pregnant waitress’s predicament. She’d been seduced and abandoned by a married man. Hers was a hard luck story that could have turned any other woman bitter.
Yet there was nothing bitter about Maggie. She never failed to make a special fuss over any children who happened to come into the restaurant, and on more than one occasion Del had seen her slip an extra sandwich to a customer who looked down-and-out. The camaraderie she shared with the rest of the staff was more typical of a small town than a big city. And there had even been times when she’d brought in flowers to put in the little juice glasses to brighten up the tables.
She would have liked those daffodils. But he couldn’t give her the wrong idea. He couldn’t get close to her or get involved in her life. Because of his job…
Oh, hell. It was too late to think about that now. He was already involved up to his elbows. If the ambulance didn’t arrive in the next five minutes—
“Del!” Maggie cried, her eyes widening.
He checked the clock. The last contraction had scarcely finished and already her body was being contorted by another one. “Hang on,” he urged. “The paramedics are on their way.”
“I can…feel…something…” Her words ended in a groan.
“Maggie?”
She clutched his hand hard enough for her short nails to draw blood. “Something’s happening.”
Until now, he’d endeavored to let her preserve some modesty, but the distress in her voice told him this wasn’t the time to worry about the niceties. He pried her fingers loose from his hand and lifted the hem of her dress past her hips.
One look and he realized the birth wasn’t merely imminent, it was already in progress.
There would be no help from that other waitress, Joanne. She had turned green