Chapter 21: Krista Tells It

Nobody in the delivery room moved.

The vice president had stopped dead behind Boone's shoulder, with his hat against his chest.

"Both of yours," he said, quietly.

Boone turned his head.

"What?"

"You said both of yours. You meant that baby and the one at her feet."

"I meant the two women. I meant it as a joke."

"You said it about the babies, Boone. I was standing right here."

Boone's smile held, but it had started to slip at the corners.

"Give me my son," he said, and he crossed the floor toward me with his arms out.

"Don't," Krista said.

Her voice came from the bed, small and hoarse.

Boone stopped.

"Krista. Honey. You've had a long night."

"Annie, give him to me."

I put the baby in her arms, and she tucked the blanket around his head with a hand that shook.

She looked up at the man who had said he loved her on a flatbed stage.

"I called you a dozen times," she said.

"My phone was off."

"I called the lodge. A man picked up and said you were busy."

"It was poker night. You knew that."

"I was on the floor of the paint booth, Boone."

Her voice cracked, and she let it.

"I was by myself, and Annie came. Annie, who you left in the rain."

"This isn't the place."

"It's exactly the place. There's a nurse, and there's your vice president, and there's your wife."

The nurse in the corner made a point of looking at her clipboard.

Boone's face went through three expressions and settled on pleading.

"Krista, baby, I'll do better. I'll make it up to you. I'll marry you the day the divorce is done."

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