Justine Davis - Baby's Watch

It did happen fast then. He reached to support the tiny thing she was expelling.

The moment he touched it, the “thing” became real to him. He stared down at the baby who barely filled his two hands. So tiny, so helpless…but it was a life, another human being, a fellow inhabitant of this glorious planet, and he’d helped it arrive.

This was big, he thought.

Huge.

How could something so incredibly small, so fragile and delicate, make him feel like this?

“It’s a girl,” he whispered. “A little girl.”

The woman made a sound he couldn’t begin to describe. She sounded exhausted, but there was something else in her voice when she instructed, “You must cut the cord.”

He winced, even though he knew that. He followed her brisk instructions, glad she was able to walk him through it. She might be young, but she’d clearly done her homework on this.

Or maybe women were just born knowing, he thought, despite her earlier claim to ignorance.

“I just leave it like that?” he asked, looking doubtfully at the stub of the cord still attached to the baby who appeared to be, to his amazement, looking around. Her eyes were brown, he thought, a little numbly. Dark, rich, espresso brown, like her mother’s. Her head looked a little funny, misshapen, but he guessed that was normal.

“It will fall off of its own accord later,” the woman said. “You must clean her. Her mouth, nose, so that she breathes easily.”

He did his best, aware that he was shaking slightly. And when the tiny child in his hands let out a protesting wail, he found himself grinning; things were working fine, it seemed.

“She’s got lungs,” he said, feeling a bit loopy, as if he’d downed one tequila too many. To his surprise the new mother laughed, as if she hadn’t just been through hell.

When she was clean and dry, he wrapped the baby awkwardly, but with a need for gentleness unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He took a last look down into the tiny face.

“Give her to me.”

The new mother’s voice was shaky, and when he looked from daughter to mother he saw fear in her eyes. She reached out, as if she were afraid he would refuse to hand over the baby. Ryder wondered suddenly if she knew what was going on around here, and had the sudden thought that she might suspect him of being connected to the baby-smuggling ring.

Well, she’s right, isn’t she? he told himself.

Then he put the baby into her mother’s outstretched arms. The look that mother gave him nearly stopped his heart cold.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

For the first time in his life with a woman, Ryder was speechless. All he could do was look at her, and at the tiny bit of humanity he’d just helped bring into the world. He didn’t know how he felt, only that whatever it was, it was more intense than he’d ever experienced before.

And on some level, somewhere deep inside him, he knew he would never be the same again.

Maria.

Ana held her baby close, savoring the feel of her, the smell of her, the miracle of her.

She had thought of other names, but when the time had come there was no other. Maria. Her mother deserved the tribute; it was not her fault that Ana’s father had not been the man she had hoped. For a long time, Ana was grateful her mother had died before she’d learned the full extent of her husband’s dishonesty and evil. But now, she could only feel sad that her mother was not here to see this precious child, her granddaughter.

So she would do the only thing she could; she would name her after her grandmother and give her the life she deserved. Somehow, she would do this. She would ask for no help, no charity, she would make her own way, for herself and her baby girl.

No help…

“A hospital,” the dark stranger said. “You and she need to see a doctor.”

Ana shook her head. She trusted no one, especially now. She had heard too much about the local baby smuggling, had pumped Jewel daily for information, information she’d given sometimes reluctantly, for fear of frightening the soon-to-be mother.

“I am not going anywhere.”

“But what if there’s something wrong?”

“There is nothing wrong. She is beautiful. Healthy. You can see that.”

“But what about you? That was…you need—”

“No.” It sounded cold and heartless to her ears, when all he’d done was express concern about her. She hastened to add, “I—and my daughter—thank you for what you did. But you must go now.”

He looked nonplussed. She supposed it was rude, but what did rudeness matter when she had her baby to protect? She knew Jewel would be back with the kids soon, then she would have help she trusted.

She did not, could not dare trust this man. She didn’t know why he was here, how he had happened to arrive just as she needed help. For all she knew, he was one of them, had been watching her, a pregnant woman obviously alone, thinking perhaps to steal her baby as so many others had been stolen, ripped from the loving arms of their mothers and sold as if they were packages of cereal.

“You don’t trust me, do you?” he said softly.

“I do not trust anyone,” she said. “A lesson I should have learned earlier.”

He studied her for a moment, and then, to her surprise, nodded. “Wise choice.”

His voice was soft, gentle, but it held a harsh undertone that stirred something in her. Who was this man who had strode in out of the moonlight and helped her without questions? What had he been—what had he done—to sound like that? Was he truly one of them? Was her baby still in danger from him?

“Go,” she said, her voice sharp as her fears grew in proportion to the exhaustion that was growing, threatening to overwhelm her at any moment.

“I can’t just leave you here alone.”

“I will not be alone for long. People will be back here soon.”

“You don’t have to lie to get me to leave.”

“I am not lying. The woman who runs this place, she will be back with her charges soon. They only went to town for an outing.”

He lifted a brow at her, and she wondered what she’d said. Her English was, she knew, nearly perfect. She’d worked hard at that in college, intending to put it to use teaching in a bilingual school.

But sometimes, she realized it was too perfect; local idioms and slang peppered the talk of others, but her collegetaught skills stood out, marked her as different. But she’d long ago decided she would rather be different that way; if she was going to be judged, as people were, by the way she spoke, better too well than not well enough. That had always been her way. She saw no reason to change it now.

“Go. Please.”

He hesitated a moment longer, looking down at her. He towered over the bed, so tall, long-legged and strong, she thought. His eyes were dark, piercing, and she couldn’t help feeling he saw more than she wished. His jaw was stubbled with slight beard growth, as if he hadn’t shaved since this morning. His hair was even darker than her own, and fell in a silky if shaggy sweep over his brow when he leaned forward. She wanted to run her fingers through it and push it back.

That thought sent a stab of shock and fear through her. She needed this man gone. She obviously was not thinking clearly in the aftermath of this life-changing experience. The very last thing she should be doing at this moment was finding a man attractive. Especially a man she knew absolutely nothing about.

Of course, she had thought she knew everything about Alberto as well.

“Go,” she said again. “Please.”

“You swear to me that there will be help here soon?”

His concern moved her against her will. “I swear. And I repeat, I do not lie.”