DEACONBy Sunday afternoon, Angela had developed a maculopapular rash on her neck, ears and shoulders, confirming for me what had become increasingly apparent throughout the weekend, with each new test result. Angela was dealing with graft versus host disease, and it was time to step up her treatment. "Let's start her on glucocorticoid and cyclosporine." I stood with Jenny just outside Angela's room. "I think we need to be aggressive." I rubbed a spot in the center of my forehead where a headache had been forming all day. "She's getting worse, not any better." "But we haven't gone full-throttle on her treatment yet. Not really," Jenny pointed out. "Once we get the extra steroids and immunosuppresives on board, she'll probably bounce back pretty quick." I tried to share some of Jenny's optimism. "Let's hope so." I stared at Angela's latest numbers on the tablet in my hand. "She's young. Generally, we don't see acute GVHD as often in patients under forty. Not with a donor who
DEACON"Deacon!" Emma jerked back away from Noah, her face pink and suffused with what looked a hell of a lot like guilt to me. "I thought you went home.""Well, I didn't. Not yet." I glared at both of them, waiting for some kind of explanation. "Noah's upset." She said it so reasonably, as if those two words gave me all the answer I needed. They didn't. "He came to talk to you, but you weren't here. I was." Emma lifted one shoulder. "Which is probably a lucky break for him, since I'm not nearly as much fun to hug as you are." I knew I sounded petty and childish, but at the moment, I couldn't care less. Noah glanced from Emma to me, his expression confused and a little uneasy. "Uh, you know what, I think I'll go back and sit with Ang and let you two . . . talk." "Yeah, you do that." My eyes never left Emma's face. "Go sit with your sick wife. That's where you should be." One of his eyebrows shot up, but Noah didn't say anything as he strode out of my office. I sla
EMMA I was still shaking as I stopped my car alongside my trailer in the complete darkness of the late night. When I pulled the keys from the ignition, the quiet around me was nearly deafening. I sat in the driver's seat, trying to calm myself before I made the dash from the relative safety of the car to the solitude of the trailer. I smelled of sex, and I could still feel Deacon between my legs. My panties were gone-lost somewhere in his office or possibly destroyed when he'd ripped them from my body. I hadn't lingered to look for them. As soon as Deacon had pulled out of me and stood up, a mixture of shame, guilt and uncertainty on his face, I'd fixed my dress as best I could and fled his office. I'd stopped momentarily at my own desk to retrieve my purse, and then I'd sprinted for my car, driving home without even thinking about it. I knew why Deacon had looked ashamed-he had every reason to feel that way, but I had a feeling that his reason why and mine didn't match up. He
EMMANoah barely glanced up at me. His eyes were fastened on Angela's face, as though he was memorizing every line, every change in expression. Her chest was moving up and down rapidly, and her forehead was creased in pain."Hey, there." I took the hand that Noah wasn't holding. "What's going on, Ang? I thought we had a deal when I left yesterday-you were going to get some rest and feel better, because you promised me a girls' weekend with all your sorority sisters, remember?" The ends of her lips tipped up just slightly. "Sorry . . . Em. Might have to . . . take a miss on that one." "Hmmm." My gaze flickered over to Noah. His eyes were bleak. "Listen, Angela. I talked to Deacon and Jenny-they told me that you don't want to go up to the ICU. I understand that you feel like you're never going to be better, that you've been fighting for a long time, but if you can be brave and strong just a little longer . . . you'll be so happy that you did. I can make sure that you get the be
DEACONI finished the paperwork involved in Angela Spencer's death and left it with the floor's administrative staff to finalize. Sad that in the end, that was what our lives came down to: forms and signatures. I was almost numb from lack of sleep, but I had to make two stops before I left the hospital. Mira's office door stood open, and I knocked on it before walking in. "Deacon. What are you still doing here?" Mira had gone home last night to sleep, but she'd come back early this morning. "Shouldn't you be at home, passed out?" "I'm leaving shortly. I need to speak to you about something before I go." She heaved a long breath. "Is it really necessary this morning? Can't it wait?" "I'm afraid not." I sat down in the chair across from her desk. Mira eyed me. "If this is about your relationship with Emma Carson, save it. Everyone already knows what's going on. No need to get all confessional to me now." She paused. "And while I didn't necessarily care for Dr. Carson'
EMMA "UGH! Where the hell are you?" The fact that the man in question didn't answer me wasn't his fault, since he wasn't anywhere in the vicinity of my voice. That was part of the problem; I didn't know where he was, and he wasn't picking up his phone. He'd promised to be here at my little home on wheels fifteen minutes ago, and I was impatient. I peered out my window, frowning. My most recently cultivated garden plots were just a few feet away, and there were promising rows of happy green plants lined up in each of them. I'd decided to leave the trailer here as a resting place for when I was out working in my fields and as a reminder of how far I'd come in a little over a year. Maybe someday, I'd gut the trailer and remodel it as a guest home, but for now, I had my hands full with my new cabin, the plants I was cultivating-and my full-time job as a naturopath at St. Agnes Memorial Hospital.Building the cabin while trying to help run the oncology wing at St. Agnes hadn't be
EMMA"Surprise!" Standing on the porch with the rest of my friends, Jenny clapped her hands. "What do you think?" "I love it. It's exactly my vision for this place." I knelt down to sniff at a blossom. "When did you do this?" Leaning on the rail, Anna Girard chuckled. "We all got here early this morning. Noah hauled over the plants I'd ordered from the nursery, and we brought the ones I've propagated from my own cuttings-from the ones you especially liked at the farm." "How did you know?" I marveled, touching a soft leaf. "Child, I pay attention when you talk." Anna rolled her eyes. "And I'm not so ancient that I can't keep track of what I hear." "You're not ancient at all." I wrapped my arms around my middle, mostly to hold in my excitement. Noah had parked the truck in my driveway, and now he strolled over to join us. "Nice work, y'all," he drawled. "Good to see that you didn't slack off after I left." Nico snorted. "You didn't leave us that much to do. You wer
EMMAAnna wasn't kidding-they were there and ready to help the next time we met up to work.. Jimmy was a little quieter than his wife about his support, but it was stalwart, just the same. When Darcy-who had joined our happy band by that time-shared with us that the Monroe family was auctioning off the contents of their late parents' house and suggested they might have furniture and appliances I could use, it was Deacon's grandfather who had insisted that I store anything I bought in his barn. And that was why Nico and Noah were currently lifting a long wooden table from the back of Jimmy's old box truck-the one he usually used to haul produce to market. Behind them, Jimmy carried an antique rocking chair. "Where does this go, Emma?" he called as he maneuvered it up the porch steps. "The bedroom, please." I stepped aside to let him pass. Alison rose from the corner where she had just finished cleaning up the last bits of sawdust from around the baseboards in the living room.
NOAHNoahIt was a beautiful day for a wedding. We gathered at mid-morning under the covenant oak on Jimmy and Anna Girard's farm. Alison and I had decided that since Emma and Deacon's wedding had been the start of our love story, we should say our vows under the canopied branches of that same steadfast tree. We hadn't wanted anything grand or involved, but it was important to us that the special people in our lives were present. So when Alison and I joined hands and made our vows, among those surrounding us were Emma and Deacon, Darcy and Jackson, Jenny and Nico, Mira Hoskins, and all of the people who worked with Alison in her practice. Maggie Corning, the midwife, and Brooke Slater, Alison's therapist, were there, too. My family had flown down en mass from Wisconsin and other key points around the country. My mother couldn't stop smiling, and my dad looked proud. Even my brothers and sisters and their families were behaving themselves. And then of course, there was the Tam
ALISONA human being can accomplish almost any task while sobbing her eyes out. I'd known this from experience in my past life, but after Noah left that afternoon, I went about proving it all over again.I cried as I wiped the table and counters. I wept as I took out a frozen macaroni and cheese to eat for dinner. I sobbed as I climbed the steps and listened at the baby's door-she was still asleep in the crib. I sniffled as I switched a load of newborn clothes from the washer to the dryer.He was gone, and I was alone. Again. Naturally.The hell of it was that even as he'd pleaded his case to me, even as he'd told me that he loved me, I'd known he was telling the truth. I believed him. But I couldn't trust what he thought he felt, not when people changed their minds about being in love all the damn time. People claimed to love a friend or a child or a lover, and then they changed their minds. It happened. I knew it first-hand. I'd experienced it over and over again before I was t
NOAH"Where's the baby?" Alison walked into the kitchen, her face etched with fatigue. We'd had a long and trying few days as Evangeline had apparently been going through a growth spurt: she nursed almost constantly and was difficult to console the rest of the time. She'd fought sleep, and she'd cried piteously no matter what we'd tried to do. The pediatrician had assured us that this was normal and we'd get through it, but privately, I thought he was a heartless imbecile who clearly didn't understand that our daughter was advanced and needed more attention than the typical newborn. But finally, today we'd caught a break. Alison had gone upstairs to take a shower-her first in three days-and somehow, I'd managed to get the baby to sleep without the benefit of a boob. More than that, I'd actually laid her in the crib without waking her up. I was pretty satisfied with myself, all in all. I was also crossing my fingers that she'd stay asleep long enough that her mother and I could d
NOAHParenthood was amazing, fulfilling, beautiful, awesome . . . and exhausting. The first few weeks of baby Evangeline's life at home were a blur, a constant, never-ending whirlwind of feeding, and changing, and washing, and catching whatever small bites of sleep we could whenever she slept. People came to visit and brought gifts and food, and I was pathetically grateful for that, because I didn't have the energy to cook, and both Alison and I were tired of takeout. The one factor that made everything survivable was the baby herself. God, I hadn't known how much I was going to love this ten-pounds of tiny, perfect human. I'd never anticipated that staring at her sleep for an hour was better than four quarters of football. Or that catching what might have been a smile could make me feel as though I'd just witnessed greatness. What was some missing sleep compared with noting how well my two-week-old daughter could lift up her head?Even so, as much as I was ga-ga over my baby gir
ALISON"Congratulations, mama! You're at six. I think it's time to break your water and get things really going." It sounded like a great idea to me, but I saw Noah's lips go white. "Are you okay?" I asked, rubbing my fingers over the back of his hand. "You look a little green." He swallowed, his throat convulsing. "This is the only part I'm a little, uh, squeamish about. I watched that birth online, and breaking the water looked-intense." Maggie chuckled. "Stay up there by Alison and keep your eyes on her face. We don't need papa hitting the floor and suing the hospital." Noah did as he was told, watching me intently as if waiting for me to show some sign of distress. "Does it hurt?" he asked quietly. "The water part, I mean." I shook my head. "It feels a little weird, but not-oooooh!" I gasped as I felt the gush hit my inner thighs. "Okay, then. Eyes here, Noah. Come on. We're in this together." After that, it felt as though everything got a lot more serious. The con
ALISON Spoiler alert: having sex with Noah did not start my labor.But it sure was worth the effort. Two days after that monumental night-and after we'd given it the good old college try several more times-we went to Maggie's office. I was in a rotten mood-being a million years pregnant can do that to a person-and poor Noah looked a little haggard. He'd been sleeping with me in my bed (we both clung to the excuse that if I went into labor, I'd want him closer than across the hall), which meant that he woke up whenever I had to climb out of that bed to pee. He thought I'd been exaggerating about how often I had to go. He was quickly disabused of that notion. After a quick exam, Maggie made some notes on her tablet and then turned to the both of us. "So listen," she began. "Do you want to have this baby?" I stared at her as though she'd lost her mind. "What the hell do you think I've been trying to do for over three weeks now, Maggie?" I bellowed. "Of course, I want to have th
NOAHNow I got it. The night we'd first had sex-the night after Emma and Deacon's wedding-we'd challenged each other to come up with the sexiest, most outrageous names for cocktails. Alison was playing the game again."Ohhhhh." I grinned. "I still don't believe that last one is legit.""It totally is. The bartender confirmed it." With a smile that was deceptively seductive for an extremely pregnant woman, she reached down to grasp the bottom of her oversized T-shirt-which was not so oversized just now-and lifted it over her head. I helped just to make sure she didn't topple over in the process. It was the first time I'd really seen her without a shirt in many months. My first few impressions were awe at the size of her swollen middle. I knew she was huge, but damn. The skin was stretched as tight as a drum, and her belly button looked like a cork just about to give way. And her boobs-they were incredible. Within the utilitarian maternity bra, they were still the sexiest breasts
NOAH"What's the world record for the longest pregnancy ever?" I glanced up at Alison from the book I was reading. We were both lying on her bed while a movie that neither of us was very invested in played on the TV. The couch downstairs had become too uncomfortable for her over the past week or so, so we'd begun hanging out here in her room. It was strictly for comfort, though; we stayed on top of the covers, with Alison on one side while I stuck to the other. It was a king-sized bed with plenty of room for us. But while we hadn't hesitated to cuddle and kiss on the sofa, something about being on the bed made us more cautious. I didn't know why, exactly; Alison was so tired of being pregnant that she wasn't up for much of anything other than television lately. She'd stopped going into the office after her due date since she'd already arranged with Dr. Johanson to cover her hours. So we were both at home now all the time . . . just waiting.She really was huge. While the ultraso
ALISON"Read me that last part again?" Noah and I were sitting in the nursery, surrounded by boxes, gift bags, and about a million pieces of a pine crib. He had spent the last two weeks focusing on the nursery. He'd painted the room a lovely pale yellow color, insisting that I stay with Emma and Deacon at the cabin for the two nights after he'd completed the first and second coats so that I didn't have to inhale the paint fumes. Together, we had selected the crib and the dressing table. Noah's mother had sent us the cradle that all of her children had slept in, and that was already set up in my bedroom.Now, with my due date less than ten days away, we were finally tackling the project of building all of the furniture that hadn't come pre-assembled. I squinted at the paper in my hand, trying to decipher the words."I'm pretty sure that this was translated directly from Swedish by someone who didn't speak English," I commented. "It doesn't seem to make sense.""Does it say at wh