Beau took the additional towels Hunter handed him, and then the stethoscope. “Hey, Madison?” He waited until she turned her head and smiled at him.
“Isn’t she beautiful?”
“She’s gorgeous.” And she was. Pink and vigorous. “Your first post-birth duty as a mom is to hold her and keep her warm while I listen to her heart and lungs.”
Heart rate and respiration were strong and steady. He helped Madison listen to her baby’s heartbeat while Hunter clamped and cut the cord. Beau collected some medical history while his partner dealt with stage three. The cops made themselves useful and got the stretcher out of the rig, and then finally, Beau held the baby while Hunter lifted Madison onto the stretcher.
He walked behind them, staring into the newborn’s blurry eyes, and overheard Madison ask, “Back in the car, when you promised my baby and me would be okay, how did you know?”
Hunter looked back at Beau before answering. “Gotta have faith in happy endings. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
Good question.
He pondered it for the drive to the hospital, and back to the station, and the same answer kept shoving its way to the front of his mind, along with an epiphany he needed to share with a specific someone. Now. By the time they’d clocked out he was frantic to get to Savannah.
“You headed home?” Hunter asked, apparently oblivious to his urgency.
“Not exactly, no. You?”
“I’m thinking about making a stop by the hospital, just to check in on our last call.”
“Good job tonight.” He clapped a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “You did everything right.”
Hunter grinned. “I was sweating like a damned soul running a marathon in hell.”
“It didn’t show.”
“I have this philosophy I cling to when shit starts flying.”
“What’s that?”
“Things might just work out.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Savannah stood in the crowded gallery, smiling and nodding appreciatively as a prominent art critic held court for a handful of local collectors and discussed her work. Normally she loved the energy and buzz of a showing, but tonight the bustle of people and hum of conversation made it hard for her to concentrate on anything. Instead, her attention kept drifting to the milling guests.
Stop looking for him. Why would he come?
And yet she couldn’t prevent her eyes from searching the crowd. Midnight loomed, but the showcase remained in full swing. She’d sold several pieces, which meant she ought to be ecstatic. At least one aspect of her life was finally going according to plan.
The critic said something that coaxed a laugh out of the group of people around her. Savannah managed a lackluster chuckle that got lost in the noise of the room. A man in a suit entered the gallery, and her gaze snagged on him. A flare of recognition subsided into disappointment as their eyes locked. His lit up and familiar lips curved into a fast smile.
Mitch. Not the man from her past she’d been hoping to see tonight. Apparently her disappointment didn’t show, because he made his way over. She excused herself from the group and headed toward him, thinking to intercept him as close to the door as possible. He appeared to be alone, on New Year’s Eve, which seemed like an odd state for a newly engaged man.
“Hello, Savannah,” he said when he drew near enough to be heard. “It’s good to see you.”
He reached for her hands, but she kept them at her sides. “Mitch. What are you doing here?”
“I saw your name on a gallery mailing about the spotlight, and decided to stop by and congratulate you.”
“I woul
d have thought you’d have other plans for New Year’s Eve. With your fiancée.”
A pained frown momentarily marred his handsome face. “She, uh…turned me down.”
Ah. Now the reason for his presence became clearer. “Sorry to hear that. Don’t worry. I’m sure the right girl will come along.”