Insight Page 18

  She couldn’t help but remember that first drive together to St. Louis when she’d been forced to reveal to Reed that she was pregnant. They’d come a long way since then.

  He came out of the house, camera case in hand, waving when he saw her.

  She came around to his passenger door and threw her purse in on the seat.

  “Do you need anything out of the office?” he asked.

  “You didn’t make coffee, by any chance, did you?”

  “I just happen to know where there’s a Starbucks on the way. You’ll be fully caffeinated by—” he turned over his wrist. “I’d say no later than nine a.m. Can you make it that long?”

  “I think I can handle it. But remember, I’m a decaf gal now.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot.” He glanced toward her midsection, as if he’d just remembered the reason she was watching her caffeine intake.

  She hurried to change the subject. “How long does it take to get there?”

  “Why? Are you calculating bathroom stops?”

  So much for changing the subject. “No.” She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help grinning. “If you must know, I was thinking more about how soon we could eat.”

  He laughed. “Last time I drove it, it only took about an hour and a half, but Maggie said when she was down there last week there was all kinds of construction on I-44. So I’m not counting on being there much before eleven o’clock. We can stop for a snack if you get desperate. Or grab a muffin at Starbucks.”

  “Thanks. I feel better now.” She flashed a grin.

  The construction was worse even than Maggie had warned, but they sipped their coffees and Olivia felt more comfortable with Reed than ever.

  It was almost noon when they finally hit Springfield. They hadn’t made any stops since Starbucks, where they’d only stayed long enough to order coffee and give Olivia a chance to stretch her legs.

  Reed glanced pointedly at the digital clock on the dashboard. “Can you wait until after I drop my stuff off to eat lunch?”

  “Sure.” She patted her purse. “I think I have some crackers in here if I get desperate.”

  “Good thinking. If it goes too long, I may be asking you to share.”

  She cradled her purse possessively. “You’ll have to fight me for them.”

  He laughed as he pulled into the gallery’s parking lot. Reed parked the car and came around to open the door for Olivia. “You’re going to love this place,” he said.

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “You’ll see.” He looked like a little boy with a frog in his pocket.

  He hefted the bundle of paintings from the back of the Escape and onto one shoulder. Olivia followed him up a narrow stairwell. The gallery was above an old storefront and immediately she knew why Reed had been excited to show her. The space looked like it might have been a dance studio once upon a time. The floors were shiny hardwood with a patina that had probably seen a century. The entire north wall boasted fanlight windows that painted saffron patches on the floor and illumined the room with a perfect light for viewing the rows of paintings hung at wide intervals on the brick walls. Something about galleries like this made Olivia’s blood race and every cell in her body want to explode with creativity.

  She twirled on one heel in the middle of the main gallery. “This is fabulous!”

  Reed flashed an I-told-you-so smile. “Isn’t it great? Wait till you see upstairs.” He slid the paintings off his shoulder and leaned them against a display cabinet.

  “I thought we were upstairs.”

  “There’s a cupola gallery.” He pointed to a low, narrow doorway at the end of the spacious room. “I want you to meet Lavonna, but then you can browse while I finish up here.”

  She nodded, eager to begin her tour of the place.

  Another door in the back opened and a gray-haired woman who must have been in her eighties bustled out to greet them.

  “Olivia, this is Lavonna Burgess.” He turned to the woman, “This is my new assistant, Olivia Cline.”

  “An assistant now? You’re moving up in the world.”

  He shrugged one shoulder and shook his head. “I don’t know about that. But I can’t complain. Business is pretty good.”

  “Don’t I know it. I hope you brought me plenty of work.”

  Seeming embarrassed, Reed turned to Olivia and changed the subject. “Lavonna opened this gallery…well, before I was born, I think.”

  The woman laughed, a lilting melody that made Olivia like her immediately.

  The older woman looked over her half-glasses. “I don’t think we’ve been here quite that long, unless you’re an even younger whippersnapper than I thought. Nice to meet you, Olivia.” She looked pointedly at the front of Olivia’s loose blouse. “When is the blessed event?”

  It was the first time a stranger had openly acknowledged her pregnancy and it took her aback a little. “I…I’m due at the end of November.”

  “Ah, a Thanksgiving baby. Truly something to be thankful for. Is this your first?”

  “Yes.” Olivia said.

  “Your husband must be so excited.”

  Reed put a hand lightly on Olivia’s back. “Olivia lost her husband a few months ago. An accident…”

  The woman’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry. What an awful thing.”

  She nodded, not knowing what to say.

  Reed jumped in. “We’d better get these paintings hung so we can get Olivia to lunch. She’s eating for two these days.”

  She could have kissed him. Not only had he defused the awkward moment, but he’d done it with utter grace. And the promise of lunch.

  “Oh my, yes… By all means. You go ahead,” Mrs. Burgess cooed.

  Reed reached for one of his paintings. “Olivia, why don’t you tour the gallery while we finish up?”

  She admired the impressive selection of original art, and listened as Reed and Mrs. Burgess talked while they hung the two canvases Reed had brought. She was touched by how tender he was with the grandmotherly proprietor. When she went up to the cupola gallery, Reed was offering to help Mrs. Burgess hang several pieces that another artist had dropped off earlier in the day.

  They were just finishing when Olivia came back down to the main gallery. Mrs. Burgess dusted off her hands. “I appreciate your help, Reed,” she said, as the three of them surveyed his handiwork. “You be good to this young man,” the old woman told her, with a spark in her eye. “He’s my favorite.”

  “He is pretty talented, isn’t he?” Olivia winked at Reed, who stood basking in their compliments.

  “Oh, he’s a good artist, but I’m not talking about his art. I’m talking about the man. He’s a fine example of the species. And I’m here to tell you there aren’t many of them left.”

  Reed colored and brushed the comment away. “Okay, ladies, it’s getting a little thick in here. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were conspiring to get me to take you both to lunch.”

  Mrs. Burgess clicked her tongue. “Oh no, I have to hold down the fort here, but you two go ahead.”

  Olivia squirmed. She was beginning to fear they were victims of a matchmaking scheme, but Reed seemed not to notice. “I’ll tell you what…” Mrs. Burgess said, moving toward the cash register, “You let me buy lunch for the two of you.”

  Reed held up a hand. “No, no… You don’t need to do that.”

  “Well, I know I don’t need to, but what if I just wanted to?”

  Reed winked at Olivia. “Then I guess we’d have no choice.”

  Mrs. Burgess pushed some keys on the old-fashioned cash register. The drawer slid open and she pulled out two bills and handed them to Reed. “You know the bistro just up the street?” She pointed out the bank of windows that overlooked the street.

  Reed nodded.

  “They have the best Reuben in town. It might be too spicy…for the baby.” She gave Olivia a knowing look. “But you’ll love the ambiance. Very romantic.”

  Reed s
eemed to ignore her innuendo and for a fleeting moment, Olivia wondered if he had put Mrs. Burgess up to this. But she quickly dismissed the thought. There was no reason for him to do so, knowing they’d have no choice but to have lunch together.

  At the thought of lunch, her stomach growled. The crackers in her purse were probably packets of crumbs by now, but she was going to pull them out anyway, if she didn’t get something to eat soon.

  They thanked Mrs. Burgess for her treat and Reed led the way down the steep stairs to the street. “We can just walk from here,” he said. “It’s only a couple of blocks.” He stooped to peer into her face. “Are you hanging in there?”

  “I’m hungry,” she admitted.

  “Okay. It won’t be long. We’ll have them bring soup or a salad or something right away.”

  “Thanks.”

  The bistro was as charming as the gallery and their solicitous server got a basket of rolls and fresh green salads to their cozy booth within minutes. Reed said grace over the meal and Olivia dived in. The food was delicious and she ate like she’d been starved for a week.

  When she’d finally warded off the worst of the hunger pangs, she looked up to find Reed watching her with a look of satisfaction on his face and a glint of humor in his eyes.

  She gave an embarrassed shrug. “I was hungry.”

  He burst out laughing. “I noticed. My goodness, for a minute there I thought you were going to start eating the flowers.” With an ornery spark in his blue eyes, he picked up the vase of alstroemeria and moved it to the end of the table, out of her reach.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Just kidding.” He slid the flowers back to the center of the table. “I like a woman who doesn’t pick at her food.”

  “Well, hey, I do have an excuse.” She usually avoided mentioning her pregnancy or using it as an excuse, but a woman did have her pride.

  “I know, I know.” Reed smiled, but then his expression turned serious. He stretched out his hand and for a minute she was afraid he was going to place it over hers on the table. But he only propped his elbow on the edge of the table and rested his chin on his palm, watching her. “I’ve enjoyed the day, Liv… Being with you.”

  “Me too.” The moment grew awkward and she looked down, arranging and rearranging the linen napkin on her lap.

  The server brought their entrees and Reed started talking about his dream of adding a gallery to his studio. Things grew more comfortable after that and they recaptured the easiness between them.

  Though they didn’t talk about it, as the day went on, Olivia felt something subtly shift in their relationship.

  Lying in bed that night, smiling to herself, reliving their time together, Olivia knew they had crossed some sort of barrier. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. She only knew that it thrilled her and terrified her at the same time.

  Reed was in what he thought of as “the zone,” that wonderful place where the paint seemed to take on a life of its own beneath his brush and the patches of color that resulted were exactly as he’d envisioned them in his mind. It didn’t happen often enough, but when it did, he felt as if he were doing what he’d been created to do.

  He dipped the brush again into the thick paint and dabbed another perfect splotch of cerulean blue onto the canvas.

  From the corner of his vision, he was vaguely aware of Olivia working at his desk, getting his sales tax statement ready to send to the accountant. She hadn’t exactly balked at the idea of adding bookkeeping to her duties, but he could tell she was a little uncomfortable with that aspect of the job. Still, it was another way to free up more time for him to paint, and one more way he could justify the raise he’d given her. And it kept her working by his side a little longer.

  Even when each of them went about their tasks in silence, hers was a welcome presence in his studio. Too often now, he found himself wishing she didn’t have to leave at the end of each day. He’d always valued his solitude, and the change she’d wrought in him amazed him. He couldn’t remember ever wishing Kristina could stay longer. As much as he’d thought he loved her, sometimes he’d been almost eager for time away from her constant chatter.

  He dipped his brush again into the vivid blue paint, enjoying the feeling of slipping into the fantasy. Olivia as his wife…living here with him, sharing his life.

  The harsh scraping sound of Olivia’s chair across the room broke the spell and made him look away from the easel.

  His pulse lurched. Olivia was standing hunched over, holding her stomach. The half of her face he could see was a mask of pain.

  “Olivia?”

  She looked up, and he saw panic in her eyes. It worried him most that she didn’t even try to cover up her obvious agony. That definitely wasn’t like her.

  He leapt from the stool and crossed the room in half a dozen long strides.

  “What’s wrong?” He put an arm around her hunched shoulders and bent beside her, trying to read her eyes. “What is it, Liv?”

  “I…I’m not sure,” she said between shallow breaths. “Something’s wrong. I…I’m having cramps.” Her words warbled weakly and trailed off. “I think…I might be bleeding.”

  Chapter 27

  Reed didn’t understand all the medical business of how these things worked but he knew enough to know that bleeding was not good. “Is it the baby? Do you need to lie down? Should I call Maggie?” He cast about the four corners of the room as if the answer might be written on one of the walls.

  Olivia’s next sharp gasp of breath made the decision for him. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

  “No!” The smooth muscles of her jaw tensed, then slowly relaxed. She held up a hand. “I…I don’t think I need an ambulance, but maybe I should go to the hospital. I’m kind of having cramps.”

  He bent close and studied her face. She was pale, her eyes glassy with fear, but she was still standing on her own, and speaking more calmly. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded. “Just let me sort out these receipts first.” But her knees buckled as she turned back toward the table. She caught herself, grasping the back of the desk chair as if it were a lifeline.

  “Leave the stupid receipts.” His voice came out angrier than he meant it. But what was she thinking? She needed medical attention now.

  He turned her gently toward the kitchen. “You’re going to the hospital this minute.”

  She didn’t argue.

  He took her arm and lopped it around his neck, then put a steadying arm around her thickening waist. Lord, please help me get her there in time. Please don’t let anything happen to her.

  She clung to him as he ushered her out to the car. She managed to get into the seat, but he had to lift her feet and swing her around to sit properly in the passenger seat. A dark stain of blood on her jeans caused his breath to catch. He buckled her seatbelt and raced around to take the wheel.

  Olivia sat with her head in her hands as he wove through the noon-hour traffic, praying for God to part the sea of cars on the narrow two-lane street.

  “You okay?”

  She gave a barely perceptible nod. “Please hurry.”

  Once off the main road, he gunned it to sixty. After what seemed an eternity, he finally pulled into the emergency entrance to Hanover Falls Regional Medical Center. He parked under the overhang, killed the engine and ran to open Olivia’s door. “How’re you doing?”

  This time she shook her head, her chin quivering violently. “Oh, Reed… I…I think I might be losing the baby. What am I going to do? What am I going to do?” Her voice escalated to hysteria.

  “It’ll be okay, Liv. We’re going to get help. Everything is going to be okay.” Oh, dear God, help us! Let everything be okay with the baby. With Liv. He helped her from the car, and with one arm around her, propelled her through the wide doors marked EMERGENCY. Pungent, antiseptic odors assailed him, and for a minute he was afraid it would be his legs buckling. All the memories and fears from the time of his surgeries rushed back, sapping his strengt
h.

  He forced his thoughts in a different direction, but quickly discovered that Olivia’s pain and the growing stain of blood terrified him far more than any memories of a surgery that had ended so well. Please, God, let this end as well. Please God.

  Before they were through the second set of automatic doors, a woman in a colorful uniform came toward them. “What do we have here?”

  “She’s pregnant. About five months along, I think. She’s bleeding and…having cramps.” He looked to Olivia to confirm his layman’s diagnosis, but she seemed oblivious, holding her stomach and moaning a little now. Please God.

  The nurse eyed him. “You’re the father?”

  “No. No, I’m a friend.”

  A wheelchair materialized and before he could gather his wits, before he could whisper a word of encouragement or the truth of his feelings for her, they were wheeling Olivia through the wide swinging doors at the end of the corridor.

  The fetal heart monitor beside her bed emitted a steady, comforting scritch scritch scritch, but Olivia couldn’t unglue her eyes from the neon numbers skittering across the screen and the paper printout that collected in a heap on the nightstand, documenting her contractions and her baby’s heartbeat.

  Her baby was fine, the doctor said, but Olivia was having mild contractions and they hadn’t been overly encouraging about whether they could keep her from going into labor.

  She’d been admitted to the hospital within an hour of being brought to the emergency room. The nurses had told her how important it was that she keep as calm as possible, so now she was lying here struggling not to worry about how she would pay the bills for the emergency room, how she would afford it if the doctor prescribed an extended stay in the hospital, and how she could ever raise a child on her own.

  Reed had left a note at the front desk for her. One she suspected the nurse had “previewed” before allowing her to have it. It was written on a sheet of paper with bright purple advertising for some prescription drug, obviously borrowed from the nurses’ station. But it was Reed’s handwriting that made her smile. Made her feel a sense of warmth and comfort and belonging that she hadn’t felt for a long time.