HANNAH YODELED A tune under her breath as she cut the thread on the last curtain panel. The baby’s room would be finished as soon as she hung the curtains. With difficulty, she rose from the chair and carried the panels from the sewing room into the small room off the hall. Everything was in place. The tiny sleepers and Onesies lay folded in the dresser drawers, and she’d finished the last pair of knitted booties. The hand-stitched quilt she’d made lay folded at the foot of the crib. Soon her little one would be safe in her arms.
The sunlight streaming through the window lit the yellow walls with even more color. A crib mobile swung in the breeze above the bed. It was all perfect, or rather, it would be in two weeks when the baby arrived. Hannah put her hand on her swollen belly and felt the child kick against her hand. “Soon, little one.”
Reece had chosen for them not to learn the baby’s gender, but she felt in her heart it was a girl. Her smile faded. She’d never imagined marriage could be like walking through a field of buried explosives. Reece had a lot of pain inside, pain she’d failed to soothe. If inflicting pain on her soothed his, maybe it was her lot in life. A lot she deserved, after what she’d done.
Moving carefully, she climbed onto a chair and hung the curtains. The soft color looked perfect against the walls. It was only when she glanced at her watch that she caught her breath. It was nearly six, and she hadn’t even started dinner. Reece would be furious. As if on cue, his whistle sounded on the stairs outside the apartment door, and she heard Reece call her name. She should have had dinner ready. He was always angrier when he was hungry.
Holding the back of the chair, she managed to get down in one piece. She knew she looked as big as a beached whale. Reece hated her cumbersome size. A sharp cramp struck, and she bit back a groan so he wouldn’t hear. He hated complainers. Could this be labor?
He pounded on the door. “Hannah, I forgot my key.”
When had dread replaced delight at his appearance? After that first slap, she’d been sure there would be no more. He was always so sorry, but not sorry enough to keep his fists to himself. Her mother would have said she’d made her own bed. And she had. But she’d never expected that bed to be so full of nails. There was no going back. At least he’d let her get her GED the first year, and now, after five years of marriage, she would soon have her college degree as well. He was a good man at heart.
The baby would make everything better. They’d be a real family. Maybe Reece’s obsession with her would ease. She would have joy in her life that eclipsed the heartache. The baby would change everything. It was her only hope.
“I’m coming,” she gasped out, still in the grip of the contraction. The strength of it surprised her. Maybe this was the real thing. She managed to get to the door and fumble with the dead bolt. It was always a little stiff. She threw open the door to see him stalking away in his police uniform.
She rushed after him to stand at the top of the wide staircase down to the street. “I’m here, Reece.”
He turned around and mounted the steps again. He kissed her, and she clung to him as another contraction took her. Breathe, don’t let him see yet. She couldn’t explain her panic. Reece would take care of her. He was a take charge kind of guy. He’d get her suitcase and make sure she got through this.
He nuzzled her neck. “I’m starved. What did my little wife fix me?” He raised his head. “I don’t smell anything cooking. Dinner isn’t even started, is it?” Disapproval dripped from his words.
“I—I think I’m in labor,” she gasped as another contraction hit. She grabbed the top of the banister for support.
“Don’t make excuses. The baby isn’t due for another two weeks. You were too busy playing in the baby’s room to think about me, weren’t you? I’m disappointed in you, Hannah.”
“No, really, Reece. Here. Feel. I think it’s really labor.” She tried to put his hand on her belly, but he jerked away. Fear battered at her, but she tried to stifle it. He wouldn’t hurt her when she was pregnant.
“Is this how it’s going to be when the baby comes? You all wrapped up in the kid and never paying me any attention?” His eyes glittered, and he grabbed her arm. His fingers pressed into her flesh.
She managed not to wince. “No, of course not.” She knew the expression on his face. If she had somewhere to go, she’d leave here and never look back. Her anger simmered, but she had to keep it from boiling over. If she lost control, her punishment would be greater. She should soothe and placate him, but she didn’t have the energy. “You’re hurting me, Reece.”
He dropped his hand, and the flare in his eyes banked to a dim glow. He raked his hand through his hair. “Hannah, you always know how to push my buttons. If you’d honor me like you should, this wouldn’t happen. It’s my duty to train you up properly, but you make the job harder than it should be.”
Even though she knew he was only manipulating her, she dropped her head. It was true she’d forgotten him today. Some days she wished she could forget him forever. Tears blurred her vision.
His hand reached out again and caressed her bare arm. He backed her against the wall. His head came down, and he nuzzled her neck again. His touch made bile rise in her throat, and she escaped his grip instead of raising her face for his kiss. She knew it was a mistake when she saw the manic anger blaze into his eyes.
He stepped toward her, but he didn’t touch her. “I told you right from the start that I wasn’t father material. I want a wife, not a nursemaid. A lover, not a nanny. When that kid comes, we’re not keeping it.”
Too late she realized he blamed the baby for her brief flash of defiance. She couldn’t let him take her baby. “It won’t happen again, Reece. Really. I’m so sorry,” she babbled.
Love and anger vied for control of his face. She backed up until she stood at the edge of the stairs. She should have watched her tongue. She lifted her face to him. He could hit her there and not hurt the baby.
Mottled red had crept up his face. “I should have seen that rebellious streak in you. I’m your husband, Hannah. I know what’s best, but you never seem to listen.”
“I know you do.” She put her hand up to cup his face. She forced herself to smile. “I’ve got steaks out for dinner. I’ll have them ready in fifteen minutes.”
His hands gripped her shoulders. “You promised me you wouldn’t put the baby ahead of me, but you’re already doing it.”
She wrenched away from his painful grip. “I’m not, Reece! You’re the most important person in my life.” Too late, she realized she teetered on the top step. Hannah’s arms pinwheeled out as she struggled to catch the banister, but the staircase was too wide.
His hands rushed out toward her, but she lost the fight to regain her balance. His hand struck her shoulder, then she was tumbling down the steps. She thought to protect the baby, and she tried to curl into a ball. Her head slammed against the railing, and she saw colors as brilliant as fireworks. Everything rushed by in a blur, the rails and the carpet alternating in her view.
Protecting her stomach proved impossible. At least she and the baby would be together. In seconds she lay in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs. Reece’s footsteps rushed toward her, and she tried to scoot away. A vise of pain gripped her stomach, and her vision faded to black. Reece cried out her name in an anguished voice. Something warm trickled between her legs, then the pain blotted out the world.