“That was different,” Claire defended herself. “I wanted you to be interested in your painting again.”
“You wanted me to be interested in Trevor too,” Sophie said knowingly. “And it worked. In fact, I’m grateful to you. If you hadn’t called him, we likely never would have seen each other again, let alone fallen in love. So you see, sisterly meddling can be a good thing.”
Claire was about to offer a rejoinder when a sharp, shocking pain sliced through her, radiating from her lower back through her abdomen. She stopped, pressing a hand there, as if to soak up the sensation with her palm. Sophie’s worried face hovered before her.
“Claire, what is it? Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” The pain ebbed and she took a deep, relaxing breath. “I had a pain for a minute, but it’s fading now. Maybe it was a cramp.”
“A cramp?” Sophie squeezed her hand urgently. “What did it feel like?”
“It felt like a stabbing pain. Worse than a normal cramp, but I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Claire assured her.
“Maybe we should sit down somewhere,” Sophie suggested.
“Don’t be silly. I’m fine.” Claire waved her off, starting up again, following the crowd through the center of the flea market. “It was nothing.”
“If you’re sure.” Sophie followed her, frowning and clearly unconvinced.
“Of course I’m—” The pain cut off Claire’s words midsentence. It was more insistent this time, more pervasive, racking the lower portion of her body.
“That’s it,” Sophie said, sounding grim. “We’re taking you to the hospital.”
“No. I’m fine,” Claire protested. She didn’t want to even think the word hospital, let alone go to one. If she ignored these pains, they would go away. Nothing was wrong. Nothing could be wrong. And she certainly wasn’t going into labor now, two months early.
Absolutely not.
“Claire, we’re going to the hospital.” Sophie gripped her arms, forcing her to stop walking forward. “Trust me. If it’s nothing, then we go home, but if there are complications, you’re in good hands.”
There couldn’t be any complications. It seemed beyond the realm of rational possibilities. Claire refused to think about it.
“Claire,” Sophie insisted, her tone serious and commanding, “we have to go to the hospital. Just trust me on this.”
Claire closed her eyes. God, Sophie was right. She could put the baby in jeopardy because she was being stubborn. “All right,” she whispered. “I’ll go.”
Reality began sinking into Claire’s bones. Something could be terribly wrong.
God, she had never been more frightened in her life. Sophie, Trevor and Marcus hovered in her room in the OB Triage ward, on the periphery of the staff who were monitoring the baby’s vital signs. Her doctor had been called. She had an IV delivering her medication designed to stop the contractions. There was nothing more Claire could do, and it made her feel more helpless than ever. She had seen the worry in everyone’s eyes, the chalk-white pallor of Sophie’s face as she gripped Claire’s hand. It could be too early for the baby. The words echoed like a sickening litany in her mind until they all ran together.Tooearlytooearlytooearly.
What would she do if something happened to her baby? The questions invaded her whirling thoughts, making her nauseated. Was something wrong with the baby? She wanted reassurance, comfort. She wanted Logan.
Logan.
She’d almost forgotten about him in all the tumult and confusion. Another contraction interrupted her thoughts, cutting through her abdomen and breaking her thoughts into tiny jagged shards. When it finally receded, she became aware that she was gripping Sophie’s hand so tightly that the tips of Sophie’s fingers had turned reddish purple.
“Soph, call Logan,” Claire managed through her oddly stiff lips.
Sophie frowned at her worriedly. “Are you sure you want him here, honey?”
It made sense that Sophie would ask her that question. She probably thought Claire wasn’t thinking clearly, and maybe she wasn’t. But Claire wanted Logan by her side. She’d never been more certain of anything in her life.
“I want him here,” she said firmly. “Please, call him.”
“If that’s what you want.” Sophie gave Claire’s hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it to rummage through her purse for her cell phone. “What’s his number?”
Claire recited it from memory, trying to calm herself down. She knew she was probably overreacting, that even if she went into labor today, the baby could still be fine, though premature and in need of a stay in the NICU. But she had done her research for this pregnancy, and she knew what NICU stays could entail. She wanted to avoid that for her baby at all costs.
Sophie closed her cell phone with a snap, drawing Claire’s attention back to her again. “He’ll be right over,” she said, casting a glance at Marcus and Trevor, who were looming like ineffectual shadows off to the side. “He sounded furious. Are you sure having him here is a good idea?”
