“Honor’s here,” Robin added, stopping at the foot of the staircase. “Go on up—first open door on the left. I’ll be right there. Coffee all around?”

“None for me,” Annie said.

“That would be great,” Hollis said. She followed Annie, taking in the black-and-white family photos that covered the cream-colored walls, mostly of Linda with various children. Hollis picked out the towhead she’d seen with Robin in the park. Callie’s friend Mike. The other two in many of the photos were just as blond, but five or six years older. The display reminded her of her mother’s house—and all the photos with her and the guys. She’d been the smallest, but Rob always made sure she didn’t get buried by hoisting her up when she was small, and when she grew taller… The pang of pain caught her unawares and she turned sharply away.

Annie stood at the top of the stairs, watching her. “What is it?”

Hollis shook her head. “Nothing.”

Annie’s look said she didn’t believe her, but after a moment when her eyes softened with sympathy, she walked on.

Grateful for the call of duty, Hollis slipped into the bedroom after Annie. The room was large with wide windows on two sides. Through those opposite her she got a glimpse of a large maple and the long grassy yard where she’d played volleyball. The trilling call of robins nesting in the branches outside the open windows floated into the room. Honor Blake sat in an easy chair next to the bed where Linda, in a white T-shirt proclaiming I’d Rather Be Lucky Than Good in purple letters, was propped up on several pillows. She looked rested—her color was better and her eyes had lost the patina of fear they’d worn yesterday.

Honor stood. “Hi, Annie, Hollis. I’ll get out of your way—”

“No, please stay if Linda doesn’t mind.” Annie crossed to the bed.

“Stay, Honor,” Linda said and Honor sat back down. “Hi, Annie. Hi, Hollis.”

“Hi,” Annie said. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better.” Linda glanced at Honor, then Annie. “In fact, I feel perfectly fine. I was wondering—”

“Oh no, you don’t,” Annie said. “Bed rest for today at least.”

Honor laughed softly. “Told you.”

Linda gave an exaggerated sigh. “I was afraid you were going to say that. Bathroom privileges?”

“Let me take a look at you first.”

Hollis took the cup of coffee Robin handed her as she came in. When Robin set the tray on a large oak dresser, Hollis lifted a small bright blue pitcher with hand-painted daffodils on the side and poured cream into her cup. “Thanks.”

“Any time.” Robin glanced at Linda. Her easy smile slipped a little. “Thanks for coming.”

“Annie wouldn’t have it any other way. Try to relax.”

Robin sighed. “Man, I’d much rather have them.”

Hollis laughed and sipped her coffee, watching Annie talk easily with Linda and Honor while performing a quick, thorough physical exam. When Annie finished, she pulled a chart from her shoulder bag and scribbled a few notes. Everything Annie was doing she would have done in the outpatient prenatal clinic at the hospital, but she had to agree, this was a much more relaxed, personal environment.

Annie finished her notes, pulled a straight-backed oak desk chair closer to the bed, and sat down. “Everything seems normal, and it’s now been twenty hours since your last contraction. Here’s my offer—you can go from the bed to that bathroom over there with assistance and back again. No showering, no bath, no quick trip downstairs to make lunch. The rest of the time you’re in bed.”

“Done,” Linda said fervently. She tilted her chin toward Robin. “Besides, she’s not going to let me get away with anything else.”

“Damn straight,” Robin said. “You want more tea, babe?”

“I’m good for now.” Linda looked past Annie to Hollis. “Things not exciting enough for you over at the big house?”

Hollis grinned. “Not half as much fun as this.”

Linda shook her head. “You’re not going to be very popular if you start suggesting the OB staff should make house calls.”

“Trust me, that’s not on my agenda. I’m not going to risk my life.” Hollis nodded toward Annie. “Besides, Annie’s crew has that well covered.”

Annie rose and packed up her bag. She’d been focused on Linda, but she’d felt Hollis behind her, sensed her watching. She hadn’t been self-conscious, not in any kind of professional way, but her skin had tingled knowing Hollis was looking at her. She wasn’t usually anxious, but every nerve jangled when Hollis was nearby. Her skin was hypersensitive, her blood rushed faster, and a seething urgency deep inside threatened her concentration. She couldn’t think about all that now—she had more patients to see. She rapidly repacked her bags and turned to Hollis. “Anything you’d like to add, Dr. Monroe?”

Hollis drained her coffee cup and placed it on the tray. “No, I think you’ve covered everything.”

Pleased, Annie said to Linda, “If anything changes between now and tomorrow, call. Even if you think it’s nothing—anything that worries you—anytime, I’m a phone call away.”

“We know.” Linda grasped Annie’s hand and squeezed. “When can I go back to work?”

Annie laughed. “God, medical people. I don’t know yet. Let’s see how the next few days go. One thing at a time.”

“I know,” Linda sighed. “But God, bed rest!”

“Hopefully, just one more day of that.” Annie nodded to Honor. “Nice to see you again, Dr. Blake.”

“I’ll see you at birthing class. I’m going to second for Robin.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Robin led Annie and Hollis out into the hall and closed the door. “I want Linda to have what she wants around this baby, but I don’t want to take any chances. How safe is the home birth going to be, really?”

Annie expected Hollis to recommend hospital delivery and was surprised when Hollis remained silent. A faint nod from Hollis signaled she should field the question.

“Dr. Monroe and I talked about this last night,” Annie said. “Until and unless Linda has other complicating signs, there’s no reason to change the plan for her to give birth here. We’ve still got quite a ways to go, and things might change. That’s why we’re going to watch her carefully. After the next few days, I’ll see her every week or sooner if we need to. If there’s any sign of complications, then we’ll switch plans immediately and have her deliver at PMC.”

“Okay.” Robin let out a long breath. “I’m really glad the two of you are taking care of her. Thanks.”

Annie smiled. “Of course.”

“Don’t mention it,” Hollis said.

On the way to the car, Annie said, “Thanks for the backup in there.”

“Did you expect me to try a power play?”

Annie paused by the car. “On some level, I think I did.”

“You know,” Hollis said, “we’re playing without a rule book here.”

“Yes, I know. I can’t say I like it much.”

“No, neither do I.” Annie went around to the driver’s side, unlocked the car, and climbed in.

She waited while Hollis buckled her seat belt. “Linda is an unusual circumstance—we’ve been forced into a joint-care situation in the middle of an emergency. Ordinarily that wouldn’t happen.”

“You’re right,” Hollis said. “We’d be seeing patients jointly, but you’d have the lead unless problems escalated.”

“You’d be all right with that?” Annie hadn’t expected such an easy concession. Hollis wasn’t like most of the OBs she ran into—but then, Hollis wasn’t like anyone she knew. She had a healthy ego, but she didn’t let it get in the way of what really mattered. “Playing backup wouldn’t bother you?”

“I’ve got plenty to do,” Hollis said. “Are you going to fight me if I think it’s too to risky for a patient to continue with the home-birth plan?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it depends on whether I agree.”

“Well, that’s why we’re doing this.” Hollis shrugged. “This kind of intensive follow-up is time-consuming and expensive, though.”

“Time-consuming, yes,” Annie said, starting the car and pulling out, “but we don’t charge for every follow-up visit, and even when we do, our scale is less than yours.”

“Okay, remuneration aside, it’s a lot more work for you.”

“Yes, I suppose, but that’s exactly why we feel comfortable following high-risk patients.” Annie signaled a turn onto Lincoln Drive. “We see them so frequently and in such different circumstances, we usually can identify the onset of complications at a very early stage.”

“What happens if you’re not available? Someone else takes your place?”

Annie frowned. “Yes, but it’s not ideal and I don’t like it. That’s why I take call even when I’m not on call.” She smiled over at Hollis. “I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

Hollis laughed. “Oh, I do.”

“See,” Annie said lightly, “we have more in common than you thought.”

“I know,” Hollis murmured, looking forward to the next few hours. Spending time with Annie, working or relaxing, filled her with equal parts excitement and contentment. She steadfastly refused to consider why. She just wanted the feeling to continue.

As Annie visited the pre- and postnatal patients on her list, Hollis quickly appreciated that Annie’s patients trusted her completely. Hollis could see why. Annie was fast and efficient, giving each patient her undivided attention and calming anxious loved ones at the same time. She was a natural caregiver.

A little after eleven, Annie said, “That’s it for the home calls. Do you want me to drop you at home or the hospital?”

“Home is good. What’s on for you the rest of the day?”

“I’m going to pick up Callie for lunch and then deliver her to a friend’s until I finish in clinic this afternoon.”

“I have clinic tomorrow. Do you want to come along?”

“Yes. We should sit down and compare our schedules and work something out for the next—I don’t know, what do you think? Two weeks?”

“Better make it a month, at least,” Hollis said. “We don’t want anyone to accuse us of rushing to judgment.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “No, God forbid.”

“Meet me for lunch tomorrow? We’ll work something out.”

“All right.” Annie pulled up in front of Hollis’s and shut off the engine. “I liked working with you today.”

“Yeah,” Hollis said, wishing the morning didn’t have to end. “I did too. You’re good.”

Annie laughed. “Not what you expected?”

“Not exactly. I expected you’d be confident. But you’ve got…the touch. You connect with people—and they feel it. It’s like a surgeon having good hands. Some people have it, others never get it. Can’t teach it. That absolute sense of caring can’t be faked, and you have that.”

Annie caught her breath. Hollis couldn’t possibly know how much that meant to her. “Thank you.”

Hollis made no move to get out of the car and Annie didn’t want her to. The windows were down and a warm breeze sifted through the front seat, ruffling Hollis’s hair. Annie was reminded of summer days on the farm and the smell of fresh-cut hay and the utter stillness of the air, as if she could reach out and grab handfuls of the steamy heat and wrap it around her fingers like strands of cotton candy. She’d felt so vastly alone then, under that endless blanket of blue sky and sun, that she’d ached for something she couldn’t name. The ache pulled at her now. Hollis was so close. So real.

“Callie hasn’t…” Annie’s voice broke and she gripped the wheel. “Callie hasn’t stopped asking about a bike since last night.”

Hollis released her seat belt and turned toward her, her knee brushing Annie’s. “You ready to get her one?”

“She’ll need training wheels, right?”

“It depends on her balance and how comfortable she is on the bike.” Hollis smiled. “But she inherited your touch—I was watching her color. She’s got really good coordination. I think she’ll pick it up pretty quick.”

Annie’s heart fluttered. She hadn’t believed it could do that—not unless she was on her way to the ICU. Hollis had noticed Callie color. Hollis really looked. Hollis saw her. The fluttering settled lower in her belly, grew heavier. More insistent. She thought of Hollis’s hand on her neck and a pulse tripped between her thighs. She took a breath, kept her voice light although she trembled everywhere. “I guess I’ll probably have to get a bicycle too, then.”

“It’s a great way to spend time together.” Hollis smiled. “Once Rob taught me…”

Hollis’s smile faded. There was no mistaking the look, the same one she’d seen on Hollis’s face in the stairwell at Linda’s. Pain, raw and untempered. “Rob?”

“My oldest brother.” Hollis averted her gaze. “He taught me—well, pretty much everything.”

“He sounds great. Is he—”

Hollis’s chin shot up. Her eyes were two dark pools, completely opaque. “He’s dead. He was in the South Tower.”