“For the rest of your life.”
Hot color streaked her cheekbones. “I know you think I’m flighty and impulsive and a lightweight. What you don’t realize is that I’ve grown up a lot in the time you’ve been gone. I can do this.”
“But why?” That’s what confused him. It wasn’t as if she was running out of time. Besides, she had never particularly struck him as the maternal type.
“My reasons are my business, Dr. Hutchinson. Am I free to go now?”
There were secrets in her eyes and in her heart. He knew it. The two of them might have been separated by time and distance for the past few years, but there had been a moment when he had known everything about her. Every thought. Every feeling. Every beat of her energetic, enthusiastic, passionate heart.
The Simone he knew jumped into life with both feet, usually via the deep end. She had her naysayers—Royal was a relatively small town with a long memory. Her youthful missteps had cost her. A reputation was a hard thing to shake. But he knew she had a good heart.
“Just hear me out. You should know, Simone, that a multiple pregnancy immediately puts you in the high-risk category. The hospital hired me for my expertise. I’ll be overseeing your case indirectly. Dr. Fetter will alert me if any problems arise. Will that be a problem?”
Simone blinked. “Do you have any crackers?”
“Excuse me?” Had his hearing taken a hit in Sudan?
“I need saltines. I’m about to puke.”
Oh, lord. “Hold on,” he said. Opening the door to the hallway, he bellowed for a nurse. The poor woman must have sprinted, because she was back in two minutes with the crackers and a cup of ice chips.
He took them with muttered thanks, closed the door firmly and turned to Simone. She wasn’t white anymore. More like a transparent shade of green. Grabbing a plastic basin from the cabinet, he put it in her lap and unwrapped the crackers. “Slowly,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” she muttered. “I’m afraid to move.”
“Poor baby.” He’d seen pregnant women almost every day of his professional life, but none had ever touched him as deeply as this one. Without overthinking it, he put an arm behind her back to support her. “I’ll hold the cracker,” he said. “You nibble.”
It was a measure of how miserable she was that she didn’t fight him. No snappy comeback. No insistence she could feed herself. When she leaned into him, his heart actually skipped a beat. A huge neon sign flashed in his brain. Warning! Warning!
Even though he knew he couldn’t get close to her again, his body betrayed him. She was so familiar, so delightfully feminine. Every caveman instinct he possessed told him to fight for her, to protect her. Women were tough, far tougher than men at times. Still, this Simone who had come to him today was at a low spot. He wanted to make it all right for her.
Yet he was the last person she needed. He’d suffered too much heartache, witnessed too much heartbreak to offer Simone anything resembling the love they had once shared.
She managed the first cracker and started on the second. In between bites, he offered the ice chips. Four crackers in each pack, eight in all. Eventually, she finished them.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m okay now.”
It was patently untrue, but he took her words at face value. He handed her what was left of the cup of ice. “I have other patients to see,” he said, wondering why the thought of leaving this room was so unappealing.
“I know,” she said. “Go. I’m fine. I’m glad you didn’t die in Africa.”
He chuckled. “Is that all you have to say?”
“I don’t want to add to your ego. I won’t be surprised if the town makes you the patron saint of Royal. Saint Hutch. It has a ring to it, don’t you think?”
“You’re such a brat.”
“Some things never change.” Her teeth dug into her bottom lip.
Gradually, her color was returning to normal. The doctor in him approved. “That’s not true, Simone. Neither of us is who we were five years ago. I know I’m not.”
She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Is that a polite warning? You’re telling me not to get any ideas?” Her sidelong glance held a touch of wry mischief.
Even now, she had the power to shock him. While he’d been willing to dance around their painful past, Simone plunged right into the murky depths. Maybe she knew him better than he realized.
“I wasn’t, but I probably should have.”
“You’re not my doctor.”
“No. Not technically.” He paused, weighing his words. “Perhaps this is presumptuous on my part, but you opened this can of worms. I knew we would see each other again, Simone. It was inevitable if I came home. But...”
“But you’ve moved on.”
“Yes. I have.” He didn’t tell her the rest. He couldn’t.
Simone nodded. “I understand, Hutch. I think it’s obvious I have my hands full, too. Maybe we can be friends, though.”
“Maybe.” He let the lie roll off his lips. As much as he wanted to help her, he couldn’t get close. Not again. “Are you okay now? The nausea’s better?”
She handed him the basin. “False alarm. You’re good at this. Maybe you should be a doctor.”
His smile was genuine. Simone had always been able to make him laugh, even when he took himself too seriously. He reached in his pocket for a business card and scrawled his cell number on the back. “I need you to promise,” he said, handing it to her.
“Promise what?” She handled the little rectangle as if it were a poisonous snake.
“I want you to promise that you’ll call me immediately if you have any problems.”
“What about Dr. Fetter?”
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. “She’s a busy doctor with a lot of patients.”
“And you’re not?”
They stared at each other in silence. “Hell, Simone. You’re not making this easy.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“We share a past. I want to make sure you and these babies are okay.”
“Saint Hutch.”
If that’s what she wanted to think, he might as well let her. It was far better than the truth. “I care about you,” he said quietly. “I mean it. Any hour. Night or day. This isn’t a typical pregnancy. I want to hear you say it.”
She lifted one shoulder in an elegant gesture he remembered well. “Fine. I promise. Are you happy now?”
He hadn’t been happy for a very long time. “It will do. I’ll be in touch, Simone. Take care of yourself.”
Two
After the run-in with Hutch, the actual appointment with Dr. Fetter a week later was anticlimactic. The rules for a multiple pregnancy were pretty much the same as any pregnancy. Take vitamins. Sleep and rest the appropriate amount. Exercise every day. Report any spotting or bleeding.
That last bit was scary. Simone stared at the obstetrician as the woman entered notes on a laptop. “How often does that happen? Bleeding, I mean.”
Dr. Fetter looked up over the top of her glasses. “Ten to twenty percent of all pregnancies end in miscarriage, Simone. With multiples, the risk is higher. Nevertheless, you shouldn’t waste time worrying about it. Your ultrasound looks good, and we’ll monitor you closely, much more so than a typical pregnancy warrants.”
“I see.” It was easy for the doctor to say don’t worry. She wasn’t the one carrying three brand-new lives.
Soon after that sobering conversation, Simone was back outside staring around in a daze at the nicely landscaped grounds of the hospital. Triplets. No matter how many times she repeated the word in her head, it didn’t seem real. She’d had daydreams about pushing a stylish stroller with a tiny infant dressed in pink or blue. It was hard to fathom the reality of taking
three babies out on the town.
She sat in her car for the longest time, telling herself everything was going to be okay. Her initial motives in getting pregnant had been less than pure. Was the universe punishing her for playing around with motherhood?
Despite evidence to the contrary, she was stunned to realize that she wanted these babies desperately. Not one of them, or two...but all three. Placing her palm flat on her abdomen, she tried to imagine what she was going to look like in a few months. With triplets, she could be huge.
Oddly, the thought wasn’t as alarming as it should have been. For a woman who wore haute couture as a matter of course and worked hard to keep her body in shape, the fact that she was able to imagine herself as big as a blimp without hyperventilating showed personal growth.
At least that’s what she told herself.
It was getting late. She was supposed to be at Naomi’s condo in less than an hour. Naomi and Cecelia were making their signature jalapeño and shredded beef pizza. Normally, Simone gobbled down at least three pieces. How was she going to make it through the evening when the thought of food made her want to barf?
As she drove to the other side of town, she practiced what she was going to say. By the way, I haven’t had sex in months, but I’m pregnant with triplets. Or how about I ran into Hutch last week. I don’t think I ever got over him.
Already she was reconsidering her decision to keep Naomi and Cecelia in the dark. This was too hard to do alone. She needed someone to talk to...someone who would have her back. If she couldn’t confide in her two best friends, she couldn’t confide in anybody. Naomi and Cecelia had been her closest companions and confidantes since grade school. Still, she wasn’t ready to spill all her secrets at once. She needed time to wrap her head around things. It was happening too fast.
As Simone entered her code on a keypad and rolled through the elegant gate, she noted the perfectly manicured grounds of the luxury condo complex. Naomi’s privacy was protected here. Naomi Price was famous in Royal for any number of reasons. Her cable television show had been picked up nationally, so now she was dispensing style advice to women—and men—coast to coast.
Simone parked and walked up the path. When she rang the buzzer, Cecelia answered the door. “It’s about time. Where have you been?”
Clearly, the question was rhetorical, because Cecelia disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Simone to put a hand over her mouth and gag at the smell of cooking meat. Oh, lordy. She fished a water bottle from the depths of her leather tote and took a cautious sip. If she wasn’t ready to talk about the babies, she had to get her stomach under control. Otherwise, her secret wasn’t going to be a secret for very long.
Gingerly, she rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. The room wasn’t huge, but it was as stylish as the woman who hovered over the stove. Naomi had brown eyes and long copper-brown hair. She was charming and extremely pretty, but Simone knew her friend didn’t understand how beautiful she was.
Cecelia, on the other hand, had bombshell looks and knew how to use them. Her platinum hair and long legs drew men in droves. Her company, To the Moon, produced high-end children’s merchandise but had recently branched out to the adult furniture realm with the launch of Luna Fine Furnishings. Simone and her ad agency were currently producing a hard-hitting campaign designed to take Cecelia’s company to the next level.
The other two women barely said hello at first. They were squabbling over the correct ratio of peppers to meat. At last, Naomi looked up. “Hey, hon. What’s the matter with you? I’ve seen ghosts with more color.”
That was the thing about good friends. They didn’t sugarcoat things. “Just an upset stomach,” Simone said. “I think I ate too much at lunch.” Fortunately, meal prep took precedence and no one called her on the lie.
Normally, Simone would have offered to help, but right now she stayed as far away from the food as possible. When the large pizza was in the oven, the three women adjourned to the living room. Simone envied Naomi’s innate sense of style. Her home was stunning but extremely comfortable.
Simone claimed a comfy chair and sat down gingerly. She’d always heard about morning sickness, but she had never imagined how wretched it could be. Tucking her legs beneath her, she tried to get comfortable.
Cecelia, on the other hand, hovered by the window. She was always a high-energy person. Today she practically vibrated with excitement.
Naomi took a sip of her Chardonnay and waved a hand. “What’s up, Cecelia? You said we had to wait for Simone. She’s here now. Don’t keep us in suspense.”
The tall blonde spun around, fumbled in her pocket and held out her hand. “Deacon proposed! And I’m pregnant.”
After that dual announcement, much squealing ensued. Simone and Naomi hugged their friend and admired the ring. Deacon Chase was quite a catch. He’d lived in Europe for a decade, but had returned to Royal and purchased a beautiful country lodge on the outskirts of town. The gorgeous, self-made billionaire hotelier had confidence and charisma and a dimpled smile that broke hearts everywhere. As far as Simone was concerned, he was one of the few men alive who could handle Cecelia and not be intimidated by her looks and personality.
Clearly, now was not the time for Simone to share her own news. For one, she didn’t want to steal Cecelia’s thunder.
When the furor died down, they adjourned to the kitchen and dug into the freshly baked pizza. Simone’s stomach cooperated enough for her to get down most of one piece, though she surreptitiously removed the jalapeños and wrapped them in a paper napkin. No point in tempting fate.
“So who’s your doctor?” Simone asked. Please don’t let it be Hutch.
“I’m seeing Janine Fetter. She’s not real chatty or friendly, but I don’t need that in a doctor. I want someone I can trust to take care of me and my baby. Dr. Fetter fits the bill.”
Naomi shook her head. “I still can’t believe it. This means we’ll have to plan a baby shower.”
Cecelia laughed. “Give it time. I’m still in my first trimester. Plenty of opportunity for that. Deacon and I are going to keep the news to ourselves for a while, but he knew I would have to tell you two.”
“Well, I should think so,” Naomi said. “We’ve never kept secrets from each other.”
Simone grimaced inwardly. The trio’s tight friendship had backfired in Royal at times. Some people referred to them as the mean girls. The label wasn’t fair. They weren’t mean. But when three women were extremely successful, attractive and high-profile, there were bound to be those who took potshots. The criticism had sharpened after Naomi, Cecelia and Simone had been admitted into the Texas Cattleman’s Club.
Some diehards still thought women should be kept out. And somebody had started the rumor that Naomi, Cecelia and Simone could be behind the malicious blackmail messages various residents of Royal had been receiving via social media.
It wasn’t true. Even Cecelia had received one of the blackmailer’s threats. Simone, too, though she hadn’t told anyone.
Later that evening as Simone drove home, she struggled with feelings of envy. Cecelia had a baby on the way and a wedding to plan. That meant Cecelia’s situation was cause for celebration. Simone, on the other hand, was pregnant with triplets whose biological father was an unknown sperm donor.
Lots of people used sperm donors in situations of infertility. But those were loving couples who made a joint decision and were excited about the chance to bring a child into their home.
Simone had done it selfishly because of her grandfather’s stupid, archaic will. Blinking back tears, she clutched the steering wheel and apologized to the three tiny sparks of life in her womb. “I swear I’ll be a good mom,” she whispered. “I would take it all back if I could, but now you’re on the way, and I want to keep you. You’ll find out soon enough that grown-ups make mistakes. Me, in particular.”
; It would have been nice to have someone say, “There, there, Simone. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Everything will work out for the best. You’ll see.” Unfortunately, unless she confided in Naomi and Cecelia, no one in Royal was likely to fulfill the role of pep squad. She’d have to be her own cheerleader. First order of business would be enjoying a relaxing evening at home.
Her house was welcoming and warm, but in a whole different way than Naomi’s. After the ad agency landed its third big client, Simone had moved out of her bland apartment and purchased a five-acre estate in Pine Valley. The place was ridiculously large for one person, but she loved it.
At least she would have plenty of room for a live-in nanny. Or maybe two. Triplets! How would she ever manage?
When she made the turn from the main road onto her property, she noted with pride the way the flowering cherry trees lined the driveway. When the wind blew, tiny white petals fluttered down like snow. Spring in Royal, Texas, was her favorite time of year.
It was a surprise to see a black SUV parked on the curving flagstone apron at her front door. An even bigger shock was the man who stepped out to face her. Not bothering to put her small sports car in the garage, she slammed on the brakes and slid out from behind the wheel. “What are you doing here, Hutch?”
She hated the way her heart jumped when she saw him. Even without three babies on the way, she shouldn’t get involved again. Given the current situation, it would be emotional suicide to think she had any kind of chance with the good doctor.
In his muscular arms he held a medium-sized box. “I brought you some books from my medical library. I remembered how you like to research things on your own, so I thought you could take a look at these. Plenty of stuff here about multiple births, both from a medical standpoint and from a practical parenting aspect.”
“That’s thoughtful of you,” Simone said. “Do you offer this kind of service to all your patients?”
His lips quirked in a reluctant smile. “You’re not my patient, remember?”
“True.” She wasn’t exactly sure what the protocol was here. In any case, she couldn’t leave the man standing outside. “Would you like to come in for some iced tea or a cola?”
Triplets for the Texan Page 2
