Darlene Graham - The Pull of the Moon.pdf

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"Fathers are important."
Matt spoke simply. "And I think my baby deserves a good one."
Olivia's smile softened. "I agree, Mr. Creed. But I'm afraid that with
my daughter, there is little either of us can do to change her mind."
Matt leaned forward on the couch. "Oh, there's plenty I can do," he
said. "I can take her to court and sue for joint custody."
Olivia answered quickly. "Nasty legal proceedings will solve nothing.
Besides, you have no claim to the baby. Danni would have to name you as
the father for you to have any legal standing."
There was silence for a few seconds, then Matt spoke. "Your daughter
didn't tell you?"
Olivia looked confused.
"Mrs. Goodlove, your daughter and I are married."
"THE PULL OF THE MOON is a tender, memorable
story of a remarkable man and a dedicated woman,
who, through loving each other, heal the wounds upon
their souls. It is a page-turning, feel-good book from
beginning to end."
-Sharon Sala, award-winning author of Reunion
Dear Reader,
I worked as a labor and delivery nurse for many years and always wanted
to write a story about a dedicated, funny, savvy, but lonely
obstetrician who yearns for a love of her own. Dr. Danni Goodbye began
forming in my mind all those years ago.
But it wasn't until I met the firefighters/rescuers after the
bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah building in Oklahoma City (I was
privileged to work as a volunteer at the site during the rescue effort)
that I found the hero who would be Danni's match.
I hope my portrayal of Matthew Creed does justice to the tireless and
truly heroic men and women who gave their all during that terrible time.
To my own son Damon, a television reporter who was one of the first to
arrive at the scene, and to everyone who suffered in the wake of that
heinous crime, I hope that the references in this book provide only
consolation and validation.
Though deeply emotional issues are woven into this story, it is a joyous
account. Because it shows one woman's journey as she chooses change and
growth, finds true love and receives the family of her dreams.
I enjoy hearing from my readers. You can write to me at: P.O. Box
720224, Norman, Oklahoma 73070.
Darlene Graham
Books by Darlene Graham
HARLEQUIN SUPER ROMANCE
812-IT HAPPENED IN TEXAS
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THE PULL OF
THE MOON
Darlene
Graham
HARLEQUIN®
TORONTO NEW YORK LONDON
AMSTERDAM PARIS SYDNEY HAMBURG
STOCKHOLM ATHENS TOKYO MILAN MADRID
PRAGUE WARSAW BUDAPEST AUCKLAND
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this
book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to
the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any
payment for this "stripped book."
ISBN 0-373-70838-6
THE PULL OF THE MOON
Copyright ©1999 by Darlene Gardenhire.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or
utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any
electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented,
including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information
storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission
of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road,
Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of
the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same
name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual
known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
®and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with are
registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the
Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
Look us up on-line at: http://www.romance.net Printed in U.S.A.
To Ray and Tonie Lueb.
Thank you for answering God's call
to become loving parents.
CHAPTER ONE
THE FULL MOON WAS THE trouble, and everybody knew it.
As Dr. Danielle Goodbye shoved her long, thick hair under a disposable cap and began the
routine surgical scrub, she thought how ironic it was that all the simpering romantics out
there in TV- and movie-land considered the moon a symbol of romance.
Romance. Ha!
In obstetrics everybody knew that all hell broke loose when Old Man Moon
turned his fat face on the unsuspecting earth. Why did stuff like this an emergency C-section
with a life in the balance-always seem to happen when the moon was full?
Correction: two lives.
She nudged the knee handle to cut the water off, raised her dripping hands, and headed
toward delivery room one.
A woman's scream from within caused Danni to break into a trot. She knocked the heavy
door open with her bottom and yelled: "Fetal heart rate?"
A nurse turned up the volume on a state-of-the-art monitor and called back, "Sixties!" as the
ominously slow beeps filled the otherwise-silent room.
Another nurse rushed forward to dry Danni's hands with a sterile towel while a third nurse
came at her with a surgical gown mittened over fists. The circulating nurse filled Danni in on
the case, her words fast and low. "It's a bad deal. The whole family was in the fire. Couple of
toddlers. Mom's water ruptured at the scene-"
"When?" Danni interrupted.
The nurse glanced at the large clock on the tiled wall.
"Just before midnight-about thirty minutes ago. We've got a prolapsed
cord and fetal distress."
"I hear it," Danni said. The beeps got slower.
The nurse with the towel finished the drying and dodged aside so the other could thrust the
gown onto Danni's outstretched arms. The circulator continued to talk rapidly as she
reached up and pushed Danni's glasses firmly onto the bridge of her nose.
"Mom ran into the trailer when they realized the toddlers were missing. A fireman pulled her
back out, then went in for the kids himself. The dad's drunk, started the fire with a cigarette.
The cops have him. She's about thirty-four weeks. No prenatal care. You're flying blind."
Danni nodded while she jammed her hands into the sterile gloves held open before her. Then
she stepped up to the surgery table.
The patient was no longer screaming. She now lay gravely silent with eyes closed, her skin
pale and smudged beneath pathetically singed eyebrows and hair. She cracked her eyes
open as Danni adjusted the paper drapes. When- she saw Danni she tried to talk through
the anesthesia mask, then reached sooty fingers from under the drape and grabbed for
Danni's arm. The circulator caught the woman's hand before she could contaminate Danni's
sterile gown.
"Don't worry," Danni said and leaned over to look directly in the patient's eyes as they grew
heavy with the anesthetic. "We'll get your baby out in time."
She opened her gloved palm for the scalpel and peered over her mask at the anesthetist. He
adjusted the nitrous oxide and nodded.
"Let's go." Danni flipped the knife into position and cut.
Dr. Danni Goodbye prided herself on her head-spinning, machinelike speed in emergencies.
The C-section team at Tulsa's Holy Cross Hospital-one of the best in the city-had scrambled
to meet her exacting standard: six minutes from decision, to incision, to squalling baby.
In this business, sometimes you had to hurt the patient in order to help them. Sometimes
they cried out. Danni might have let that affect her work, but she didn't. While still in her
teens she had learned to ignore her emotions and focus on her goal. She'd acquired that
skill the hard way-in a tragedy she didn't like to think about-but on a night like this she was
grateful for it.
Because on a night like this when the moon was full-Danni couldn't help thinking of Lisa. On
a night like this,Lisa and her baby had died. But tonight's baby was lifted out, free of the
strangling cord, squirming under the Ohio warmer a mere ninety seconds after Danni's first
swift, sure cut.
Danni hadn't even broken a sweat, but the rest of the team released a
collectively held breath when they heard the first weak cries from the corner where a
pediatric team labored over the tiny patient. Danni tried to ignore the palpable relief all
around her. She never allowed herself to get emotional during a delivery, but tonight she was
feeling the tiniest twinge of-something-as the infant's crying picked up steam.
Then the bang of the operating-room door startled them all.
A perky young ward clerk, breathless from her sprint down the hall, held a paper mask to her
face, her eyes huge above it. "Dr. Danni!" she huffed. "Dr. Stone's having a fit down in the
E.R. He said to close this case fast and get down there stat. A ton of OB's have flooded in."
"The moon," a nurse behind Danni moaned.
The girl spread a palm over her chest as if to calm herself, then noticed the baby. "That baby
made it?"
One of the pediatric nurses called out, "He's perfect!" above the infant's wailing.

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