Megan's Hero (The Callahans of Texas Book #3): A Novel (4 page)

“One of them. The rest of the men in my family came to help. You met Nate, my brother-in-law. He’s married to my sister, Jenna. The other two are my dad, Dub, and my brother, Chance.”

Her tired smile held a hint of whimsy. “I never had a real cowboy ride to my rescue before.”

Will grinned. “Sorry I didn’t ride up on a white horse.”

“I’m not. Pickup’s better.” Her smile faded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She kept studying him until he grew uncomfortable. “What?”

“Are you for real? Or is this good guy stuff just an act? What are you going to want in return?”

“Nothing. People around here help each other, Megan.”

“Even strangers?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“That’s just the way it is. God has blessed us, so it’s only right that we do what we can for other folks.”

“So you believe in God?”

“Yes. Do you?”

She nodded, looked out at the passing scenery, then rested her head against the seat again and closed her eyes. “After today I do.”

4
 

Megan had never been a patient in an emergency room, and she didn’t like being one now. She wore a clean hospital gown, though dried mud and glass remained on her arms and legs. Her filthy shoes and filthy clothes were stuffed in plastic bags and hung on a hook on the wall. Except for her top, which was in the garbage. Miniscule glass fragments had covered a good portion of the back and part of each side. The nurse had cut it off rather than pull it over Megan’s head and risk getting glass on her face or in her eyes.

That was my favorite blouse
, Megan thought sullenly.

Which she couldn’t have used again anyway. But an idiotic anger had her ready to lash out at someone. The past six months had been enough to tick anybody off. She’d gotten pregnant—definitely not planned—then was so sick that she had to give up a job she enjoyed. She’d used up her savings and still lost the apartment. And when she did feel good enough to look for another job, there weren’t any. It had been the pits.

But she’d adapted, living in the van and camping in parks for the past three weeks.

Now, her tiny home-on-wheels might be useless. Most of her belongings had been gobbled up by the tornado. Even if the van could be repaired and she could somehow gather up everything, it wouldn’t matter. There was nothing of value left to sell.

She didn’t want to think about how much this hour or two in the ER would cost. Will had said she could pay him back later, but when would that be? Job openings were few and far between. She’d looked in almost every town between San Angelo and Austin.

And she had exactly fifty-five dollars and twenty-one cents to her name.

Like mother, like daughter
, she thought bitterly. The fruit didn’t fall far from the tree. Megan never drank, and the only thing she’d ever swiped was a pair of cheap earrings, but obviously she’d inherited Jackie’s lousy judgment when it came to men.

She’d messed up her good, comfortable life and ruined everything she’d worked so hard to accomplish. She’d let down her guard and trusted a man who made promises he never intended to keep.

A little tap, flutter, and wiggle sent a wave of relief and love washing through her. Sweet Baby was okay and doing a little boot scootin’ in her belly. She patted the little foot that bounced against her hand. Or maybe it was a tiny hand exploring his—or her—world.

Okay, so maybe she hadn’t messed up so bad after all. At least now she’d have someone who loved her. And, for the first time in her life, she had someone to love. Quick tears stung her eyes. Stupid hormones. Crying wasn’t her style.

She’d get through this. She’d had nothing when she took off at sixteen, but she’d worked hard and built a good life for herself. She could do it again at twenty-four.

“It may take a while, Sweet Baby, but I’ll give you a good home,” she whispered.

She scrunched up the pillow, raised the head of the bed a little more, and waited for the pleasant but no-nonsense nurse to return. The woman had strapped a fetal monitor around her belly first thing, explaining that it was the kind that sent a signal directly to the nurses’ station. It was also portable, so Megan wasn’t restricted to the bed by a bunch of wires.

Not that she was interested in getting up right then. Despite the dried mud tightening up her skin, it felt good to rest and hide behind the curtain for a few minutes.

Though it didn’t do much to keep out the world. She could hear snippets of conversations in other rooms and almost everything said at the nurses’ station. A constant beep came from somewhere that would drive her bonkers if she stayed there long. Every few minutes footsteps went up and down the hall, and occasionally something rolled by.

Will hovered in the hallway. She couldn’t see him, but it seemed as if every person who walked by knew him and said hello. He knew them too, speaking in a deep, quiet voice, calling them by name and often asking about a family member. Particularly if they had a kid who played football. The man must know the stats on every high school player in town.

Before long it seemed every woman in the small hospital had found some excuse to wander down to the ER and scope out the handsome cowboy leaning against the wall outside her room.

It didn’t matter that his worn jeans were stained with mud from kneeling beside the truck. Or that sprinkles of glass had rubbed off her blouse onto his pale blue shirt when he picked her up. Somehow, the little dirt smudge on his cheek only made him more ruggedly appealing. About six-two, slim but muscular, with dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes, Will Callahan was the kind of man women of all ages fawned over.

And he charmed them all. Three ladies had already stopped and asked about his mama, his sister, and his sister-in-law. He answered them politely—not revealing much, she noticed—and inquired about their families. No one mentioned his wife, so evidently he didn’t have one.

Three more women stopped to flirt a bit. He responded with an easy banter that told Megan he was an expert at the game but didn’t take any of it seriously—and neither should they.

The nurse bustled in and walked around to the far side of the bed. Everything about her, from her short pixie-style gray hair to the tailored bright blue top and pants and black Crocs made Megan think of competency and efficiency. She glanced at her name tag—Peg Renfro, RN.

“You’re looking a bit perkier than when you came in.”

“My baby has been wiggling around and practicing his—or her—line dancing.”

The nurse smiled. “I expect that eases your mind some.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“This should too. Your baby’s heart rate is good, and you aren’t having any contractions. We have our twenty-minute baseline, so I can take the monitor off now.” She unfastened the wide stretchy straps holding the two electronic disks in place and motioned for Megan to lean up so she could pull them out from beneath her back. “We’ll check the baby’s heartbeat every thirty minutes, but I can just hold the transducer—the disk—in place for a minute or so to get that reading.”

The nurse pressed a button or flipped a switch that Megan couldn’t see, and the blood pressure cuff that had been wrapped around her arm inflated, making her wince. The dumb thing was so tight it hurt. That had to send her blood pressure up a few notches. How many times did they have to check it anyway?

“So you don’t know whether it’s a boy or girl?” asked a female doctor who stepped around the curtain and stopped at the foot of the bed. She appeared to be in her early thirties.

“No, ma’am.”

The doctor moved closer and held out her hand. “I’m Dr. Cindy Jarman, though most people around here just call me Dr. Cindy. I hear you’ve had a wild day.”

“That’s a good description.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Pretty good. I don’t feel tired and weak now.”

“Do you have a headache?” Dr. Cindy gently pressed here and there on her abdomen. She smiled when Sweet Baby gave her hand a little nudge.

“Yes. Not real bad, though.”

“Have you been having a lot of headaches?”

“Several in the last few weeks.” But she figured she’d had enough tension to cause them, even when she’d spent a lot more time resting than she would have if she’d been working.

“Butch said you almost passed out after he examined you.”

“I don’t think I was really going to faint. I was just real dizzy.”

“Has that happened other times recently?”

“Twice this past week. I thought it had stopped after I quit barfing all the time.”

The doctor hooked the earpieces of the stethoscope into her ears. She checked Megan’s heart and lungs, then moved down to her stomach and listened to the baby’s heartbeat.

When she raised her head and removed the instrument from her ears, she nodded. “One-hundred-fifty beats a minute. Strong and steady.”

She inspected the bruises on Megan’s arm and leg and shook her head at the mud and glass. “When was your last tetanus shot?”

“A couple of years ago.”

“Good. One less thing to worry about. Both you and your baby are a little small for twenty-eight weeks along. Did we get that number right?”

“Yes. I’ve been sick most of my pregnancy. When I wasn’t barfing, I was still so nauseated that I couldn’t eat much. About all I could do was lie in bed or on the couch. It started at the end of my first month and lasted until four weeks ago.”

“So you’ve been eating well only the last month. That would explain it. Are you taking prenatal vitamins?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Megan smiled at the thought of the bottle of pills in her purse. “They’re one of the few things that didn’t blow away.”

“That’s good, but I’m sorry you lost so many other things.” Dr. Cindy removed the stethoscope from where it hung around her neck and tucked it into a jacket pocket. “You didn’t want to know whether it was a boy or girl when you had the ultrasound? Or was the baby turned so they couldn’t get a good view?”

“I haven’t had one.”

That brought a frown. “Have you been under a doctor’s care for your pregnancy?”

“Yes.” Megan shifted, more from mental and emotional discomfort than physical. “But I haven’t seen her in two months.” She swallowed as heat flooded her face. “Money has been a problem lately. I was so sick I had to give up my job.”

“So you haven’t had any blood work done lately either?”

“No.” Megan knew she should have gone in for it, but two months ago she was saving every penny to pay her rent and to buy what little food she could keep down. Last month, she’d finally felt so good, she figured everything was all right. Her stomach tightened, and she caught her breath. It wasn’t painful, but it was new.

“Are you having a contraction?” asked the doctor.

“Maybe. My stomach just got tight. It’s gone now, but I’ve never felt that before.”

“You haven’t had any Braxton Hicks contractions?”

“No. But I’ve read about them, and I think that’s probably what it was.” She hoped, even as worry settled in and wouldn’t budge.

“Probably.” Dr. Cindy picked up the chart and scribbled on it. “However, after all you’ve been through today, I’m not taking any chances. I want to keep you tonight so we can monitor you and the baby. I’m ordering some blood work to check your blood sugar and to look for anemia.” She nodded at the nurse. “Peg will bring you an icky sweet drink in a few minutes. Then an hour later, we’ll do the blood draw. That will tell us how well your body is processing the sugar.

“I don’t anticipate any problem with that, but it’s a test I normally run about this time in a pregnancy. I expect you’re a little anemic. That would cause the weakness and dizziness.”

“But my vitamins contain iron.”

“It may not be enough for you. Some women need more. I had to take extra when I was pregnant. It’s not a big deal. While we’re waiting for the sugar to digest, Peg will get this mud and glass off of you.”

She started toward the door, then turned back around to face Megan. “In the morning, I want to do a sonogram. That’s another name for an ultrasound.” When Megan nodded, indicating she knew they were the same, she continued, “Your baby’s heart sounds good, and it’s moving around fine, but the ultrasound is another tool to evaluate your little one’s well-being.”

“Do we really need to?” Megan was torn between desperately wanting to make sure the baby was all right and worrying about the expense. Staying overnight would cost a fortune, and an ultrasound wouldn’t be cheap.

Before she could figure out how to explain her reluctance, Will spoke up. “Don’t worry about the cost, Cindy. Do anything you need to.” The heels of his boots tapped on the floor as he walked into the room and stopped on the other side of the curtain. “And you let her, Megan.”

She didn’t know whether to be annoyed about his interference—and his bossy attitude—or grateful for his help and that he’d respected her privacy enough not to charge all the way into the room. When she shot an exasperated glance at the doctor, the woman grinned.

Before she could think of anything to say, Will spoke again, with a hint of humor in his voice. “If you don’t let her take good care of you, Megan, it’ll ruin my reputation.”

She smiled in spite of herself and adjusted the sheet up higher as the nurse moved toward the curtain.

When Peg slid it back, Will winked at the nurse, then focused on Megan. He stood there looking a bit mournful. “I’ll be plumb afraid to ride to the rescue next time I see a damsel in distress.”

“Ha!” Peg said with a laugh. “I’ll stand on my head the day you’re afraid of anything.”

Will laughed, and the deep sound slid over Megan like a warm comforter on a cold, rainy day. She looked at the nurse, then the doctor. “Is he always so bossy?”

The women exchanged an amused glance before Dr. Cindy answered. “Has been ever since I’ve known him, and that’s been since junior high. You’ll discover that all the Callahans have a way of persuading people to do what they want, but the rest of them have a bit more tact than Will.” She walked toward him and made shooing motions. “Go out in the lobby where you’re supposed to be and let Peg tend to our patient. You can visit her again when she’s in her room. Give us about an hour.”

He leaned around her to look at Megan, his smile fading. “Don’t get any ideas about sneaking out of here.”

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