“You know I’m going to figure out what’s going on.” Fisher stood.
Her panic level continued to rise. No. No, you’re not. Please.
Fisher hugged her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“And I’ll be busy.” She smiled up at him, wishing she could sink into a nice, comforting hug. Instead, she pulled free and opened the front door. “Unless you want to judge the Gingerbread Festival?”
He held his hands up in defeat. “No. No way. ’Night then.”
“’Night,” she said, slipping through the door and hurrying from the front porch. Once she and her bright yellow truck were headed toward the Lodge, she could finally breathe. But, with no distractions around, it was hard to ignore the magnitude of her bizarre behavior. Instead of acting like her fun, usual self, she’d opened herself up to a boatload of questions and concerns from her brother. And his very observant wife.
But she’d never counted on Ash coming back. Ever. She might have hoped, in the beginning. Maybe even dreamed about it a few times... But now, she was over him. She was. And, if he was going to stay in town and work with her brothers, their night together needed to stay a secret. For his own safety. Not only was her twin as big as a mountain and as stubborn as a mule, he was fiercely protective.
Chapter 4
Dr. Rudolpho Santos had been her doctor since before she could remember. He’d seen her through childhood bouts of strep throat and sinus infections, sprained limbs and cracked bones—the man knew her. And she knew him. But the look on his well-wrinkled face was one she wasn’t familiar with. Considering the road map of creases on his forehead, she was amazed his brows could go that high. But they did—and they were going higher by the second while he was reading her chart.
“Why?” was the question. And did she want to know the answer?
All she had to do was ask—to force the words lodged in her throat up and out and into the open. But his expression, his total silence, had her unnerved.
Before she could say a word, his dark brown eyes met hers and he sighed heavily. A long, deep, deflating sort of sigh that didn’t bode well for what was to follow. “How long has this stomach bug been bothering you, Renata?” he asked, sitting on the stool.
“A week or so now. I would have come in sooner, but it’s a stomach bug—how long can that last?” She waited, the indecision on his face confusing.
“Another few months, I’d say.” Those dark brown eyes searched her face.
“Months?” she asked, stunned. What kind of stomach bug was that? “Doc, I can’t keep a thing down. I’m not sure I’ll make it another few months—”
“That happens sometimes but you’ll pull through.” He broke off, his lips pressed tight.
She waited, the beginning twinges of panic setting in.
“It’s not a stomach bug, Renata. You’re pregnant.” Another sigh. “I’m taking it this wasn’t planned?”
Everything came to a screeching halt. Thoughts. Feelings. Her heart. The already frigid exam room plummeted a good twenty degrees. What? She blinked, hands tightening on the exam table edge. No. No way.
“I have to say, I’m just as surprised as you are.” He flipped the paper on her chart.
I doubt that.
“I think it’s best if you go see Dr. Farriday, Renata. We’ll get you set up before you leave.”
“Dr. Farriday?” she repeated. The same Dr. Farriday who cared for her brothers’ wives. The one every pregnant woman in town went to see—because she was...pregnant.
“Healthy mothers and healthy pregnancies are her specialty.” He scribbled something on her chart.
Healthy mothers. Healthy pregnancies. Pregnant? Her? No. She couldn’t be.
“Dr. Santos, I’m certain there’s been a mistake,” she finally managed. “I can’t be pregnant. It’s impossible.”
“Impossible?” His brows rose.
The heat in her cheeks was instantaneous. It was possible.
“Mmm-hmm.” He nodded. “We can confirm it with a blood test.”
“Yes.”
He stared at her long and hard then stood. “I’ll get Marcy to come in and get a blood sample.” With a click of his pen and another pointed look her way, he left the exam room.
By the time Marcy returned with her little white caddy full of multicolor tipped vials, Renata was fighting back tears.
“You go on and cry,” Marcy told her, patting her hand. “I cried through the first trimester with all five of my kids. And when I wasn’t crying, I was eating. Got to be the size of a house every time.”
Renata pressed her eyes shut and bit into her lip. There was no point in arguing with Marcy. It wasn’t her fault that the test had given some sort of false positive. It wasn’t her fault that Dr. Santos had acted all judgy about her supposed pregnancy. The blood test would show them all just how wrong they were. Then, she would totally expect an apology. And he could dig through the cabinet for one of those lollipops he gave to his younger patients.
“Sharp stick,” Marcy said.
Renata didn’t feel a thing. Dr. Santos’s calm proclamation was still ringing in her ears. And ten minutes later, when Dr. Santos returned with his clipboard and his pen, the words were just as deafening—especially since he was saying them again.
“No mistake.” He didn’t look up this time. “Strong positive. Go check out with Winnie at the front and she’ll help you get set up with Dr. Farriday.”
“Are you sure?” she whispered, her throat constricting.
His dark eyes met hers. “One hundred percent. You are going to be a mother, Renata Boone.” He paused, clicking his pen. “I’m looking forward to meeting the fellow who finally won your heart.”
Oh God. Ash. John-Asher Carmichael and his charming grin and magic hands. And absolute shock and panic over seeing her again. One night. Period. That was all they’d both wanted. This. A baby... Her stomach flipped. This was really happening?
How was she going to tell him?
How was she going to tell her family? Her father? Anybody?
“You go see Dr. Farriday as soon as you can. It’s more important than ever that you take care of yourself now, you hear me? I know it’s a stressful time of year, but stress isn’t good.”
Did he not grasp how big a shock this was? An unplanned pregnancy sort of meant stress, didn’t it? Or was she the odd woman out? No stress? Was he kidding? Still, she nodded. Words weren’t going to happen. Thankfully, numbness was sinking in.
“Winnie’s waiting,” he mumbled, helping her off the table.
The walk from the exam room to the front desk took forever. Imagination or not, it seemed like everyone in his office already knew and was whispering about her condition. Her only hope was that the doctor-patient thing would prevent news of her scandal reaching her family before she’d found the courage to tell them herself.
“Miss Boone.” Winnie stressed the Miss with enthusiasm.
Ugh. Even better. Winnie. She was one of those people who lived to make others uncomfortable. And she was very good at it. She’d recently married—again—and this time Dr. Santos’s son had been the poor fool lined up in her sights. Since she was short on charm, her marriage was likely the reason she now manned Dr. Santos’s front desk. Maybe it was time to change doctors?
“Another Boone wedding in the mix.” Winnie’s smile was hard. “I’m on hold with Dr. Farriday’s office. She’s pretty full but she’s trying to squeeze you in. Pre-natal care is super important. For you and the baby.”
Renata winced at the last sentence. Not from the words so much as the sudden increase in volume. Almost a yell. Near enough. “I can call her later,” she offered, eager to leave—so she could fall apart in the privacy of her truck.
Winnie shook her head. “Oh no, Dr. Santos wanted me to make this appointment for you. Sai
d it was essential to get you in as soon as possible.” She paused, spinning her chair with the phone handset still pressed to her ear. “Oh, here, samples until Dr. Farriday can get you in.” She placed a large white paper bag on the counter. “Prenatal vitamins and a little pamphlet on pregnancy.” The last sentence was almost yelled.
She glared at the bag. Then Winnie.
Winnie smiled back. “Yes,” she said into her phone. “Renata Boone. R-e-n-a-t-a B-o-o-n-e. Urinalysis and blood test were both positive.” Listening. “Let me see if she’s available.”
She waited, trying not to look at the people seated in Dr. Santos’s waiting room. With Winnie blaring the news like a town crier, there was no way any of them had missed it. No way.
Winnie listed off the date. “They have a cancellation at two.”
Two days. She had no idea what her calendar looked like. Still, she nodded.
“She’ll take it. Thank you.” She hung up.
“Am I done?” Please let me done. She needed this to be over.
“You’re done here. As a mother myself, I can tell you—this is only the beginning.” Winnie pushed the white paper bag toward her.
As soon as she was back in her office, she threw the white paper bag in her desk and flopped into her office chair. Pregnancy had never entered her mind. Everything about that night had been so magical—almost unreal—that real-life consequences weren’t part of the equation. Now... What was she going to do? Maybe the lab at Dr. Santos’s was tainted somehow? But she rejected her pathetic attempt to deny the truth as soon as the thought occurred.
Like it or not, there was no way to wish this away. Her night with Ash had left lifelong consequences for her, her family and Ash, too. Unfortunately, she was the one that got to tell them her news and disappoint every single person she loved.
* * *
In order to stay busy—and away from Renata Boone—Ash had spent the next day poking around the hospital, setting up his office and driving around the county, looking for homes and exploring the region. By the time he headed to the Lodge, it was late and he was starving. With any luck, he’d raid the fridge and head to his room undetected. But there was a crowd gathered on the wraparound porch of the Lodge. A wagon strung with Christmas lights and half a dozen saddled horses waited in the side yard. Nothing like a holiday hayride.
He parked and waited, sweeping the faces of those assembled on the porch. No sign of Renata—which was good. With a deep breath, he climbed the steps to the crowded porch. Cowardly or not, the thought of fighting against the spectrum of emotions Renata caused was too much for him tonight. He slipped inside and nodded at the front desk attendant, the scents of apple cider and gingerbread making his empty stomach growl loudly. But as he crossed the great room, he caught sight of Renata, speaking to a handsome older gentleman with a commanding presence. Mr. Boone—it had to be. The family resemblance was undeniable.
Ash was trapped. A guest, a little old man pushing his walker at a snail’s pace, stood in his path. No quick escape then. At this point, he wanted an escape. But the formidable expression on Mr. Boone’s face gave Ash pause. And Renata? She was staring at her father like he’d sprouted a second head.
It wasn’t his business. But the little old man had barely moved and Ash would have had to jump the massive leather couch to get around him.
“Renata Jean, don’t give me that look,” Mr. Boone was saying.
Ash looked at Renata. That was some look. Determination. Incredulity. And more than a hint of anger. And, damn, he was struck by just how beautiful she was all over again.
He stared at the old man blocking his path, willing him to pick up the pace. No luck.
“Dad...this is ridiculous.” Renata’s outrage had Ash turning back, watching the two—against his will.
“Your brother never calls me, worrying about you. He did this morning.” His blue eyes swept over her face. “I want you to go see Doc Santos in the morning.”
Her hands fisted at her sides. “I’m fine,” she bit back.
Mr. Boone’s brows rose. “Until I see a note from your doctor saying otherwise, you’re staying out of the cold. No riding tonight.” He touched her cheek. “Don’t get all worked up, now. It’s done. Ryder, Hunter and Eli are happy to do it. You’re sick. You go on to bed.”
“A doctor’s note?” She laughed. “Are you kidding me?”
Ash thought of his son and the one time Curtis had come down with the flu. All the education and training in the world hadn’t eased the all-consuming worry Curtis’s cries had stirred in his heart. Guess that was something a father never outgrew.
Still, he understood why Renata was so surprised. She was an adult. Sick or not, she should be able to do whatever she wanted. Even if Renata’s father didn’t agree.
“No, ma’am. I’m not. Don’t make me worry over you when I don’t need to.” Mr. Boone patted Renata’s cheek. “Humor your old man, won’t ya?”
Score one for Mr. Boone. His plea had Renata’s posture easing and her expression softening. And it warmed him to see the obvious love she had for her father. Not that it was a surprise. He knew firsthand how passionate she could be. It made sense that she’d love just as fiercely.
She sighed, shaking her head. “Not like you’re giving me a choice here, Daddy.”
Mr. Boone chuckled. “Guess I’m not.”
She rolled her eyes, but the fight was gone. Instead, Ash saw only adoration in her gaze. There was an abundance of love in this family—something he’d do well to emulate in his own household.
“Come on, now, give me a hug so I know you still love me.” The older man held his arms out to Renata.
Renata didn’t hesitate. She melted into her father’s arms, a smile on her face. “You’re so stubborn.”
“Where do you think you got it from?” Mr. Boone patted her back. “You go, soak in a bath, put your feet up, read a book. Be quiet and calm, you hear?”
Over her father’s shoulder, Renata’s blue eyes locked with his. Her smile instantly stiffened. Her father turned, giving Ash what could only be called a head-to-toe inspection.
To walk away now would be plain rude, so he crossed the room, hand outstretched. “Mr. Boone? I’m John-Asher Carmichael. Ash. The new vet at the hospital—”
“Yes, sir. Fisher told me all about you.” The man smiled instantly. “Ash. Good to meet you, son. I’d love to sit and talk a spell, but we’ve got this damn hayride tonight. Can I count on you to join us for breakfast in the morning?”
He’d snuck out early this morning to avoid that very thing. But there wasn’t a single excuse for him to turn the man down. “If it’s not an imposition?” he asked, the irritation rolling off Renata impossible to miss. The question was: Who was the irritation for? Him or her father? Both, probably.
Mr. Boone shook his head. “And call me Teddy, son. The amount of time we’ll be spending together we’ll practically be family.”
Renata made an odd sound in the back of her throat, but when he looked her way she was staring into the fire, arms crossed over her chest.
“I appreciate the hospitality, Teddy.” He smiled.
“Of course.” Teddy smiled back, checked his watch and shook his head. “I’m holding everyone up. I’ll see you both in the morning.”
The farther away Mr. Boone got, the more Renata’s smile faded.
His first thought had been escape, space, air... But now. They were both here. Alone. No time like the present to clear the air. “Renata—”
She held up her hand. “Not now.”
He glanced over his shoulder, watching as Teddy Boone made his way to the front, shaking hands and making cordial small talk with guests, until he closed the door behind him. When Ash looked back, Renata was heading in the opposite direction.
Dammit.
She disappeared behind the carved wooden kitchen door on
the far side of the great room. Did she want him to follow her? Or was this a not-so-subtle attempt to avoid a conversation altogether? It could wait—not like either one of them was going anywhere.
But he was hungry.
He followed her into the kitchen before he could stop himself—to find her rifling through the refrigerator.
“Hungry?” His stomach rumbled loud enough there was no way she could miss it. She didn’t look at him. “Stomach feeling better?”
He glanced around the kitchen, impressed again. The Boones. The Lodge. The hospital. They put their full support behind things they believed in—that much was clear—down to the details. He’d noticed that during his first visit. This kitchen, with its old-fashioned wood-burning stove and its state-of-the-art range, was no different. A massive wooden banquet table lined with chairs and padded benches would sit a large crew. Perfect for the Boones. But Ash didn’t sit. He was too nervous—too jumpy. Instead, he leaned against the kitchen counter and waited.
“You caught me on an off day.” Finally, she glanced at him. “Maybe I thought sharing every random piece of information I know about Stonewall Crossing was riveting stuff.” She smiled. “Sorry for that.”
He had only fond memories of that smile. Memories he’d savored more than a few times since he’d left here. “I was... Well, I hadn’t expected to see you, either, you know?” He nodded. “It was...unexpected.”
Her smile grew. “Unexpected? I’m not sure that’s how I would have put it. But I guess you’re right.”
Maybe it was being alone with him or having had the time to adjust to his presence. Whatever it was, Renata seemed like her old self. The Renata he’d taken to bed. Best to shut that line of thinking down. “I’d say that describes—” He stumbled to a stop. What was he going to say? Them? Their time together? Her? She was definitely unexpected. In the best—and worst—possible way. “My time in Stonewall Crossing so far.”
Home on the Ranch: Texas Wedding Page 5
