Baby, Baby

Both men exuded an air of comfortable wealth. Faith could only hope their behavior would be as civilized as their appearance. Taking one last deep breath, she moved around the plant and into the room.

Michael was the first to notice her. He uncrossed his arms and straightened away from the window, feeling a jolt of recognition. Faith Hyatt had always been so different from Lacy. He doubted he was alone in finding it hard to believe they were sisters. Tall, blond Lacy had had an athletic build—or rather she had before she’d decided it was chic to be model-thin. She wore makeup with flair and was always experimenting with hairstyles. His ex-wife had been happiest when surrounded by people. Faith, however, was small-boned and quiet to the point of being difficult to talk to. She seemed content to spend hours on her own, yet she had a rare ability to calm the sick with a touch. If she wore any lipstick at all today, she’d chewed it off. Her fresh-scrubbed look made her seem much younger than her thirty-four years. Something about this woman had always fascinated him.

Michael had first met Faith the year before he’d completed his residency. Even then, she’d worn her walnut-brown curls in a pixie cut that emphasized her huge dark eyes. Serious eyes that studied him now as if he were an unwanted specimen under her microscope. Not surprising. She’d played mother bear too long. Lacy had been her cub. Naturally she’d transfer those nurturing habits to Lacy’s babies. His babies.

From the minute Michael had seen the article in the New York Times, describing Lacy’s pregnancy and her reputed refusal to take her anti-rejection meds, many things that hadn’t made sense to him before the divorce fell into place. For instance, Lacy’s little speech about normal women her age having kids. Her odd behavior that day. The unused packet of birth control pills he’d found after she’d virtually attacked him at the door, frantically initiating sex. A lot added up now—now that it was too late to help her. But it wasn’t too late to help their babies. The infants were said to be about four weeks premature, and that made them his. Period. Nothing left to discuss. He scowled in the other man’s direction.

Because Faith’s steps slowed as she entered the room and her uneasy brown eyes seemed to be searching for an escape route, Michael took pity on her and softened his harsh expression. Crossing the room in long strides, he reached for her trembling hand. “I’m sorry Peterson disturbed you, Faith,” he murmured. “You must have a million more important things to do today than rush down here. I can’t tell you how shocked I was to read about Lacy’s death in the Times. The report indicated she’d stopped her anti-rejection meds. I wish you’d called me when her pregnancy became obvious, Faith. Whether or not Lacy was mad at me, someone on her transplant follow-up team should have followed her prenatal care.”

Faith swallowed. “Lacy never contacted me. She never returned any of my calls. The first I knew she was pregnant was when they admitted her to the hospital. She’d had no prenatal care, Michael.”

The other man in the waiting room rose and glanced at the couple engaged in conversation. Closing his magazine, he walked to the center of the room. “You’re Faith, Lacy’s sister? I’m Kipp Fielding III. The news story I read in our paper said you’d spent time with Lacy before she, uh, went into surgery. She and I were…ah…quite close in January and February. Did she by chance mention me?”

Faith’s head snapped up. She tugged her hand from Michael’s fingers. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Fielding, she did have a few things to say about you. Except that she never revealed your last name—so you could have remained anonymous.” A rustle near the room’s entrance forced their heads around. Two nurses stood in the hall, chatting with a technician who was rearranging items on a lab cart. Faith knew at once that all ears were tuned to what was being said inside. Gossip lightened the tedious work at the hospital, provided a distraction from pain and death. In the past, Faith had been as big a participant as the next person. However, now that it involved someone she loved, she had second thoughts about the passing of possibly harmful rumors.

“Gentlemen, let me call Dr. Peterson and see if there’s a conference room available where we can talk with more privacy.”

Kipp buried his hands in his pockets. “I don’t see what there is to talk about. That baby boy is my son. He’s a Fielding. I intend to take steps to insure his birthright.”

“Now wait a damn minute.” Michael wrapped long fingers around Kipp’s jauntily striped tie. “Maybe you can’t add, Fielding, but I can. Lacy and I were still married in January. Those are my children she carried.”

A shrill whistle split the air. Both men swiveled toward the source. They gaped at Faith, who calmly removed two fingers from unsmiling lips. “Maybe you two don’t mind airing your dirty laundry in public. It so happens it’s my recently deceased sister you’re maligning. Have you no decency?”

Michael dropped his hand. “You’re absolutely right, Faith.” He cast a scowl at the eavesdroppers. “I agree we need a private place where we can settle this issue.”

Confident that she’d soon set both men straight, Faith went to the house phone and punched the hospital administrator’s number. “Dr. Peterson, please. This is Nurse Faith Hyatt. He phoned me at home earlier. I’m here in the hospital now.” She tapped her toe while she waited for him to come on the line. When she’d explained the problem, he told her the conference rooms were all in use but offered the use of his office. “Thank you,” Faith said. “We’ll be right down.”

Peterson brushed her effusive thanks aside. “It’s an honor to have Mike Cameron here. I’m on my way to the cafeteria. I’ll have them send over a tray of coffee. Oh, Nurse, when your business winds down, perhaps Dr. Cameron might take a moment to tour our new heart wing. His stamp of approval would be a boon to Good Shepherd.”

Faith sighed. “I’ll tell him.” She had no doubt he’d prefer a tour of the heart wing over a trip to the funeral home. Of course, she was probably foolish to even think Michael might ask to pay his last respects to his former wife. Hadn’t Lacy said Michael loved his work more than he loved her? If that was how things stood between them when they were married, why would he alter his attitudes after their divorce?

“Does Peterson have a room or not?” Michael spoke near her ear, making Faith jump.

“Um, yes. His office. He also said he hoped you had time to tour our new heart facility when we’ve completed our business.”

“Not today. Maybe later in the week. I’ll catch him and explain. Once we iron out this mess, I plan to spend an hour or so with my babies. And after that…” He swallowed. “Uh…if you have no objection, Faith, I’d like to see Lacy.”

His chin dropped to his chest and his eyelids closed, and she realized she’d misjudged him.

“Of c-course,” she stammered. Seeing Michael so emotional triggered her own bleak feelings again. “The service is tomorrow. It’s very small.” She named the funeral home. “Lacy didn’t have many friends left in Boston. Although…I’m not sure of that.” Suddenly flustered, Faith clasped her hands and frowned at her fingers. “Perhaps I should have an official funeral notice placed in the afternoon paper.” Peering up at Michael through her eyelashes, she asked him, “Were you aware Lacy had moved back to Boston?” Unexpectedly her eyes filled. She had to blink hard to contain the tears. “That’s another thing I don’t have any explanation for—why she didn’t let me know. It might have made a difference if she had.” A tear did creep out and slip down her cheek.

Michael gently clasped her upper arms. “Don’t beat yourself up, Faith. It’s taken me some time since she asked for the divorce to realize that Lacy always did what Lacy wanted, and to hell with how it affected others. I believe she planned this pregnancy from the getgo. It wasn’t accidental.”

Kipp broke into the conversation. “Look, I need to catch the three-o’clock shuttle back to New York. Do you suppose you two could take care of family business after we settle my parental rights?”

Faith felt like hitting his supercilious jaw. “I imagine your wife is expecting you home at the usual time. Does she have any idea where you are and what you’re doing, Mr. Fielding?”

“Wife?” Michael repeated, bristling.

The well-placed barb brought a wave of crimson to Kipp’s tanned cheeks. “Shelby doesn’t know yet, Ms. Hyatt. I assure you she’ll welcome the boy into our home once the details here are finalized and I have a chance to tell her. Shelby has wanted to adopt a child for some time.” Lowering his voice, he said hesitantly, “My father hasn’t favored adoption. He’s pressed for a blood grandson. And now he has one.”

Faith cocked her head to one side. “Lacy had twins, Mr. Fielding. A boy and a girl. You’ve only mentioned her son. But then girls can’t carry on the family name, can they?” she said coolly. In an even colder tone, she added, “Lacy’s son will never be Kipp Fielding IV if I have any say in the matter. And I have a lot of say.”

Michael stepped between the two combatants before Kipp could rebut. “Shouldn’t we go to Dr. Peterson’s office before we shed blood on this shiny tile?”

Faith clammed up immediately. She hadn’t intended to lose her temper. And she’d forgotten their audience. Aiming pointed glances at the bystanders still lurking in the hall, she squared her shoulders and marched past them. Michael and Kipp fell in behind her. Michael, though, paused at the nursery window and leaned his forehead against the glass. He cupped both hands around his eyes in order to see better.

“Lacy’s babies are in the premie unit,” Faith informed him stiffly.

Backing away from the window, Michael joined her. “The paper said they were approximately four weeks early. Are they well, Faith?”

Kipp halted midstride. “They are, aren’t they?” he demanded. “The article I read said the boy was under-weight.” He stuffed his hands into his pants pockets. “Lacy never told me she’d had organ transplants. Is there a possibility her son will inherit her medical problems?” he asked, sounding both worried and unsure.

Michael shot him an incredulous stare. “I’m a good surgeon, Fielding, but no one is that perfect at cracking open a chest. If you and Lacy got down to bare skin, fella, it’d be hard to miss her scar.”

A flush streaked up Kipp’s throat. He fingered his tie.

“Stop it, you two.” Faith pasted a smile on her face for the gray-haired woman seated behind a desk outside Dr. Peterson’s office. “The world doesn’t need to know all the sordid details of Lacy’s history. Both babies are in good health. Hal Sampson examined them. Michael, you remember him—he was pediatric chief when you were here.”

“Yes, I remember. Sampson’s top-notch.”

The men dropped back and let Faith address Peterson’s secretary. “Mrs. Lansing, I phoned Dr. Peterson a few minutes ago. I’m Faith Hyatt.”

Nodding, the woman rose and led the trio into an oak-paneled room. She pointed out a tray with a coffee carafe and cups that sat on a low table. While she withdrew, but before she closed the door, Michael poured Faith a cup of coffee, and then one for himself. “Still take cream in yours?” he asked, passing the carafe to Fielding so he could pour his own.

“Yes,” she said, surprised he’d recall such a mundane thing. “Too much straight caffeine gives me jitters. Today, especially, I’ve got enough acid running in my stomach to charge a battery.”

Michael gazed at her over the rim of his cup. “I’m sorry so much has fallen on your shoulders, Faith. How is Dwight handling Lacy’s death? Has he been any help, or are you having problems there, too?”

She perched on the edge of one of the three chairs someone had arranged in a triangle around the coffee table, and clutched the hot cup to warm her suddenly cold fingers. “I tried telling Dad we’d lost Lacy. He got it all mixed up in his mind and thought I was talking about Mother. The doctor had to sedate him. I decided there wasn’t any sense in putting him through the grief of attending her service.”

“What about your aunt Lorraine?”

“Still on the mission field in Tanzania. When things calm down, I’ll write her a letter. Or perhaps I should try calling her via the field office. But maybe it’s pointless to worry her when she can’t come.” She broke off abruptly. “Why this pretended concern, Michael? Your obligations to the Hyatt family ended when the divorce was final. By the way, exactly when was that?”

“July.” Michael shifted his gaze to Kipp Fielding. “The divorce wasn’t my idea. Lacy filed in January while I was on a medical mission to Norway. I phoned her at the beach house to ask her to reconsider. She refused to talk, and said she had company. It was too late, anyway—she’d already filed the papers. That was January fifth. Two days later, divorce papers arrived by courier at my hotel.” He massaged the back of his neck. “I might have convinced her to drop the request if I’d been able to make it home the next week as I’d originally planned. But we ran into complications with the transplant and I couldn’t leave Norway until much later. By then, her lawyer and mine had pretty much settled the particulars. Mine said I shouldn’t contest. He said she was seeing someone else.”

“That would be you,” Faith said testily, her soft brown gaze hardening as she pinned it on Kipp.

“Yes, it would,” he returned without a hint of shame.

Faith’s gaze never wavered. “I guess you forgot you had a wife.”

“Shelby and I separated before Thanksgiving. I assumed she intended to get a divorce—not that it’s your business. Having spent the holidays alone, I felt at loose ends. Lacy was lonely, too.” His lip curled slightly. “She said she was on her own a lot. Her husband devoted his life to his career.” Meeting Michael’s angry glare, Kipp continued speaking to Faith. “Lacy hadn’t been out with her husband in months. She’d never been sailing. Had never dug for clams. You’d have thought I’d given her diamonds when I bought her flowers. If ever a woman had been neglected, it was Lacy Cameron.”

Michael clenched a hand in the front of Kipp’s shirt. “Damn you, Fielding! I didn’t neglect my wife.”

“That’s enough.” Faith pulled a tissue from her handbag and mopped up the coffee Michael had spilled when he vaulted from his chair. Their macho posturing irritated her so much she forgot to be shy. “Lacy did feel you were obsessed with work, Michael. But Kipp, although you treated her like a queen for a few weeks, that hardly makes up for concealing the fact that you were married.”

The men gaped at Faith’s furious scrubbing. They both frowned, and Michael recognized the anger in her movements as she wielded the tissue. The table was more than polished to a shine when she finished.

Michael broke the silence first. “Lacy had all of my heart and as much of my time as I was able to give.” If he sounded hurt, he thought dully, it was because he still had his moments. “I took an oath to heal.” He thought Faith should understand that, even if Lacy had somehow forgotten.

Getting to her feet, Faith tossed the sodden tissue into the trash. While she was up, she dug in her purse again and removed the copies she’d made of the custody agreement. She shoved one into each man’s hand. “What drove either of you to do what you did doesn’t make any difference to Lacy now. In seeking love, my sister obviously made some bad choices. Maybe even selfish ones. But in the end, her decisions weren’t selfish. No matter how difficult it was for her to breathe when she was admitted, her focus was on the life that had been created within her.”

“Custody papers?” Kipp skimmed through the stapled packet. “She can’t do this. Her babies have a father.” The man scowled openly at Faith. “You just admitted that Lacy was in distress during her last hours. Any attorney worth his salt will prove you coerced her into signing these. Not only that, who witnessed your signatures?”

“I didn’t instigate this agreement. Lacy brought it with her, Mr. Fielding. If there was duress involved in the signing, it was directed toward me. Lacy refused all treatment except oxygen until I not only signed the forms but mailed them to her lawyer. If you’ll check closely, on page three she acknowledges my signature. And someone notarized each line Lacy endorsed.”

Faith wasn’t about to tell them Lacy’s witness signature had already been in place when she herself signed the document. That didn’t change the facts. Lacy had watched her sign. Most importantly, the agreement represented her wishes.

A range of emotions flitted across Michael Cameron’s face as he read the document from start to finish. Sadness. Longing. Grief. But Faith didn’t see anything like resignation as he folded the papers and tucked them into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. While his eyes darkened sympathetically, his jaw remained tensed, his posture determined—as though they’d entered a fight ring and the bell had rung.

Fielding drained his cup and thumped it back onto the tray. Wadding a paper napkin, he threw it into a nearby wastebasket. “Lacy told me a little about her childhood. I recall she said her mom was an invalid. And that you sacrificed your youth to run the household, Ms. Hyatt.”

“I was the oldest child. If Lacy had been born first, it would have been the other way around,” Faith stated flatly.

Michael moved forward. “If you have a point, Fielding, I’d like to hear it. But don’t try to say Lacy slandered Faith. I know she admired her sister.”

Faith gave him a surprised glance. She and Lacy had grown closer after Lacy’s marriage—and before her divorce. Faith was pretty sure familial love had existed. But admiration? Her heart swelled at the thought. During all those troubled years, she would have settled for a simple hug from her sister. Faith roused as Kipp spoke again.

“My point is that Faith missed the things kids do for fun. Lacy said Faith never participated in school activities. No dances. No sports. No guys. A while ago, you two talked about her ailing father. If she assumes care of two infants on top of that, I think she’s kissing any chance for a normal life goodbye. This is when she should concentrate on meeting someone and getting married.”

A startled gasp escaped Faith’s lips. But she was too embarrassed by Kipp’s rundown of her life to make any comment. More like her lack of a life. He’d managed to make her sound pretty pathetic. Oh, she’d dreamed of falling in love, she’d even had a brief affair with a hospital accountant. He’d ended the relationship, eventually marrying another nurse and moving to another state. Faith continued to hope for marriage and a family someday. But she never felt as if she needed a husband to be complete. Her life hadn’t been all that bad.

Michael, too, seemed astonished by Kipp’s blunt statement. Since no one interrupted, Kipp hammered his point home. “I’m offering you an out here, Faith. Shelby and I have a six-bedroom home. It sits on three acres. She’s able to devote all her time to motherhood. I made some inquiries this morning. I know how much you earn. And I know you work some oddball shifts. I sincerely doubt anyone would think you derelict of duty if you signed Lacy’s babies over to their natural father.”

“You’re claiming that role, huh, Fielding?” Michael slapped a hand on the glass table. “We have a difference of opinion on that score. The twins are mine.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Kipp’s chest expanded a few inches. “I hate bringing this up with a lady present, old man. Your ex-wife was pretty outspoken about the infrequency of your lovemaking.”

Michael’s face went suddenly florid. “It so happens, pal, we were intimate the day I left for Norway. January fourth. You’re welcome to calculate that out.”

Kipp seemed shaken by Michael’s announcement. “I—I…that’s the day before we, ah, that is…when Lacy and I first slept together. I think you’re lying, Cameron. Lacy said she had to schedule an appointment with you to make love.”

“Think what you want. Lacy’s forte was high drama. I guess I always knew she was impulsive. I’m only just realizing how impulsive.”

Faith slumped down hard in her chair. She blinked up at them, stomach roiling. “So what you’re, uh, both saying is that it’s a mystery as to who fathered the twins?”

Neither man acknowledged Faith’s conclusion.

Kipp checked his watch for about the third time in five minutes. “I have to get back to New York. I don’t have any more time to argue. Here’s the bottom line. There’s a boy upstairs in the nursery with Fielding genes. Because of that, he’s entitled to a legacy. I won’t go into everything that entails. Suffice it to say he’ll be well taken care of. You two will be hearing from my attorney. That’s a promise.”

Faith and Michael watched in silence as he stalked out.

“Two can play his game,” Michael said, his expression thunderous. “I don’t care how many damned Roman numerals he has after his name. Fielding will be hearing from my lawyer, too. Meanwhile, I’m going up to visit the babies. I don’t advise trying to stop me, Faith.” Giving her only seconds to respond, he, too, stormed out.

Faith’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, Lacy,” she murmured. “What kind of mess have you left me with this time?”

Sighing, she regained enough composure to pick up the phone and call the duty nurse in charge of the premie ward. “My sister’s ex-husband has asked to visit the twins, Eileen. I’m willing to extend him that courtesy today, but make sure everyone on the duty roster knows Lacy left custody papers on file. If Michael or anyone else wants to see the babies from here on out, staff will have to call me for authorization. Is that clear?” When she was certain the charge nurse understood, Faith rang off.

Stopping at the reception area, she thanked Dr. Peterson’s secretary for the use of his office. After that, she went upstairs to her own ward, post-surgical. Faith wanted to see the babies again after Michael left. Somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he presented a threat.

Her mind not on work, she nevertheless emptied her mailbox. It was full. Among the usual junk was a notice to stop at the finance office and discuss Lacy’s hospital bill. Faith stared at the statement. She had a tidy savings account. She’d expected to use it to stock a nursery; she’d also figured it would allow her to take six months or so off work. Last night when she couldn’t sleep, she made lists of what the babies would need. Planning for two of everything ate up money fast. To say nothing of the fact that the cost of funerals had skyrocketed since she’d arranged her mother’s.

Closing her eyes, Faith rubbed her forehead. It hadn’t entered her mind that she’d owe for Lacy’s care. But then, what company would insure her sister? Even if she had a policy, it probably excluded her preexisting condition. Faith placed this new worry at the bottom of her stack. The next envelope she opened was almost as distressing. The babies needed names before the state could issue birth certificates.

Faith picked up a pen. Abigail was easy. That had been Lacy’s wish. Abigail Dawn. It was a middle name denoting hope, and the two went well together, Faith thought. Hyatt. She wrote the last name in block letters. Writing it felt good. Like thumbing her nose at Kipp Fielding III and his father.

The form for Lacy’s son remained mockingly blank. Faith made a list of names she thought sounded strong. Nicholas kept floating to the top. “Nicholas it shall be,” she murmured, then chewed on the eraser while she searched her list for an acceptable middle name. John. A solid biblical name. Also, it’d been Faith and Lacy’s grandfather’s. Faith remembered him as a soft-spoken man with twinkling eyes.

Once that chore was complete, she dispatched her remaining mail quickly. A glance at her watch suggested she’d wasted enough time; Michael should be long gone from the nursery. She dropped off the birth certificate forms in the outgoing mail on her way to visit the twins.

By now she knew the routine and proceeded to don sterile gear before she entered the nursery. Tying the last set of strings on her mask, Faith pushed open the door to the premie ward. And froze. A fully gowned and masked Michael Cameron sat in Faith’s usual chair. He had a baby lying along each of his forearms, their little heads cradled in the palms of his big hands. Both pairs of baby eyes were wide-open. Faith was near enough to see their mouths working. Oh, they looked like perfect little dolls.