Skyler's Wanna-Be Wife

by Liz Isaacson

  “I’m fine,” he said, able to move faster now that she wasn’t delicately stepping like she didn’t want to tramp down the grass. “Honestly, baby. I’m fine.” He got her into the truck, and she pulled her legs in. That was when Wyatt saw the wet stain on the front of her pants. “You okay?”

  She nodded a little too rapidly, and as Wyatt jogged around the front of the truck, gratitude struck him that they were already in town. The drive from Church Ranches would’ve added twenty minutes to the trip.

  As it was, he was able to carry his wife into labor and delivery only twelve minutes later. “Her water broke about twenty minutes ago,” he said to the nurse there. “She’s had a few contractions.”

  Being at the hospital brought such a sense of relief, but his worries and fears didn’t subside. He’d been there when Ivory had almost died in childbirth. “Please, Dear God,” he said as a couple of nurses helped Marcy into a bed.

  She reached for him, and he went right to her side. “I’m here, sugar,” he said. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Tears streamed down her face. “We’re having a baby.”

  He grinned at her, his own emotions threatening to come out in the form of tears. “We sure are.” He looked up as the nurses spoke to each other about which room to take her to. “I’m okay to stay with her?”

  “Every step of the way, Mister Walker,” the nurse said with a smile. “Who’s her doctor?”

  “Hoffman,” Wyatt said. “Thadeus Hoffman.”

  “It’s Tyrone Hoffman,” Marcy said. “Wyatt.” She gave a strained giggle, and Wyatt looked at her.

  “Oh, right,” he said with a smile. “Tyrone.” He’d been the only one to call the doctor Thadeus, as he’d gone on and on about how he used to be in the MMA during one of their appointments.

  “We’ll call him,” the nurse said, and Marcy started to move. Wyatt kept his hand in hers as they went down the hall and past several empty rooms. They put her in one on the end and one of the nurses started putting on a pair of gloves.

  “We’ll check her here,” the first nurse said. “And see how far along she is. We’ll move her to a delivery room once we do the epidural.” She moved to Marcy’s other side. “You do want an epidural, don’t you, ma’am?”

  “Can I have one right now?” she asked.

  The nurse smiled and shook her head. “Not until you reach a four or a five.”

  “Shoot,” Marcy said, and Wyatt thought she was in pretty good spirits for a woman in labor. He relaxed slightly, and he stood right by her side as they checked her, determined her water had indeed broken, and that she was dilated to a three.

  “Looking good,” the nurse said. “We’ll be back in a few minutes to check on you again. If you have a contraction, don’t push.”

  Surprise wound through Wyatt. “Will she want to push?”

  “Definitely,” the nurse said. “It’s the natural reaction.” She nodded to the two of them and left the room with the other nurse.

  “Don’t push,” Wyatt said. “I don’t know why, but that surprised me.”

  Marcy leaned her head back and closed her eyes, but she only got a few minutes of peace before she tensed again. Wyatt watched every muscle in her body coil and tighten, and she squeezed his fingers hard. “Not pushing is hard.”

  Wyatt didn’t know what to say or do, and that was hard on him. Wyatt always knew what to say and do. He waited for the contraction to pass, and he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll text Jeremiah and get him to let everyone know what’s going on.”

  “They’ll all be here within minutes,” Marcy said, looking at him. “Is that what we want?”

  Wyatt did want his whole family there. Not in the room with Marcy as she gave birth, but he’d loved being in the waiting room while his nephews were born. He’d loved holding them while they were mostly made of just a head attached to a tiny body, and he loved the sweet smell of a newborn baby.

  “I’ll just tell him that you’ve gone into labor, and that we’ll let everyone know when to come.”

  “Okay.” Marcy nodded.

  He only had half the message typed out when Marcy groaned again. “Another one?” He moved quickly back to her side. “They’re coming fast.”

  “Are they?” a man asked, and Wyatt looked up to see the gladiator doctor coming into the room. He looked like he’d just come from the gym, as he was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt. He took a pair of gloves from the box affixed to the wall. “How close together?”

  “I don’t know,” Wyatt said. “But she just had one.”

  “Let’s take a look.” He sat in front of Marcy while the nurse adjusted the light. “She’s at a five. Where was she before?”

  “Eleven minutes ago,” the second nurse said. “Three.”

  “Let’s get the epidural going,” the doctor said, and the nurses moved around him. They talked and did things, and everything blurred together for Wyatt. He realized he’d never sent his text, and he hurried to do that before they wheeled Marcy out of the room.

  Wyatt trailed behind them into the delivery room, where she finally got the epidural. She relaxed quite a bit after that, and she said not pushing was a little easy now that there wasn’t so much pressure and pain.

  Wyatt wasn’t sure how much time had gone by. He wasn’t sure if Jeremiah had texted or not. What he knew was that Marcy was suddenly told to push.

  “Now?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Dr. Hoffman said. “Now, Marcy. Push.”

  Wyatt watched her work and work and work, and still their son would not come out.

  “He’s a stubborn one,” Dr. Hoffman said. He wore a smile, but his frustration was thinly veiled behind it. He looked at Wyatt. “Did you give your momma trouble like this?”

  “Oh, he’s a barrel of trouble,” Marcy said. Her head fell back against the bed behind her, a weary smile on her face.

  Wyatt just smiled and stroked Marcy’s hair off her forehead. “You’re doing great,” he said. “He’s going to be here soon.”

  “Here we go again,” the doctor said. “We need to get him out.”

  “What happens if we don’t?” Wyatt asked.

  “Push, Marcy,” the doctor said, positioning himself again.

  She did, her face scrunched up in concentration, her fingers gripping the railings on either side of the bed. A yell came from her throat, and Wyatt had never felt so helpless in his life. Not when he’d been strapped to a bed and said good-bye to his family before being wheeled back into surgery. Not when Marcy had broken up with him and fled the hospital. Not when he’d found her in her father’s house after he’d passed away.

  “Here he is!” the doctor announced triumphantly, as if he’d been the one pushing for the past few hours. He lifted the baby in both hands, and Wyatt saw his son for the first time.

  Pure love moved through him, and he stared at the infant as the doctor passed it to one of the nurses.

  “Why isn’t he crying?” Wyatt asked, moving away from Marcy.

  Three nurses worked over his baby, who lay on a tray under a bright light.

  “Wyatt?” Marcy asked, but he didn’t turn back.

  Worry spiked in him—and then, the baby’s voice filled the air. Relief filled Wyatt, and that brought tears to his eyes.

  “Come on over, Dad,” one of the nurses said, and he stepped around the doctor, still working with Marcy. Wyatt stepped up to the heat lamps where his son lay, and everything about him was perfect.

  “All ten toes and fingers,” the nurse said. “He’s beautiful.”

  “He sure is.” Wyatt swiped at his eyes as one nurse continued to clean the baby up a little bit. She wrapped him in a white blanket and handed him to Wyatt.

  “Go show your wife.”

  Wyatt turned back to Marcy, this tiny human in his hands entirely too fragile for someone like him. Their eyes met, and if Wyatt thought he’d experienced joy before, he’d been wrong.

  “Look, sugar,” he
said, his voice breaking. “Your son.” He gave the baby to Marcy, who wept as she looked down at the life they’d created together.

  “Oh,” she said, and that summed it up absolutely right.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Simone wiped the kitchen counter in her cabin, determined not to call or text Evelyn or Callie about the new baby born to the Walker family.

  She wasn’t a member of the Walker family. Not really.

  Just because her sisters had married Walkers didn’t make Simone a close family member. They were her brothers-in-law, and it was fine to go over to Seven Sons for Sunday dinner. But she didn’t need to rush off to the hospital to see Wyatt and Marcy’s new baby.

  Frustration built into a sigh, and Simone let it out. She loved Marcy and Wyatt, and she did want to be there to support them. But Callie had texted an hour ago to say the baby had been born healthy and everyone was doing great. They’d named the boy Warren Wyatt Walker, and Simone smiled at the triple W’s.

  But she would not be going to the hospital. She could wait and see the infant in a couple of weeks, when Marcy and Wyatt were out at the ranch or back at church.

  She had a hard time swallowing, because she didn’t like this solution any more than rushing right over to the hospital. Micah would surely be there, and he’d been dating Ophelia Montgomery for seven months now, and no amount of matchmaking had worked for Simone.

  Evelyn had lost her touch, that was for sure.

  Even as Simone thought so, she knew she was simply deluding herself. The problem with the three other cowboys her sister had tried to set her up with was that they weren’t Micah Walker. Plain and simple.

  Simone had humiliated herself at the masquerade ball over Valentine’s Day, earning herself a couple of phone numbers. But when she’d called, one man said he already had a girlfriend, and the other said he couldn’t remember her.

  “Couldn’t remember me,” Simone muttered to herself. She was a lifelong resident of Three Rivers. People knew who she was, as she attended every boutique, every fair, and every town celebration. She’d sold furniture to hundreds of people in town, and everyone knew that if there was a need for custom, antique furniture, the first phone call should be to Simone.

  She should be out in the she-shed right now, as she’d gotten a call for a custom vase a couple of days ago. But she couldn’t make herself go out to the hot shed and work. The cost to air condition the she-shed was astronomical during the summer, and Simone tried to get up early and work before the sun heated everything past comfortable.

  Instead, she set about making a batch of peppermint chocolate cookies. She normally made them during the holiday season, and never again throughout the year. But she knew they were Marcy’s favorite, and she figured she could take a plate of them up to Church Ranches to tell her and Wyatt congratulations.

  Simone loved babies, and she couldn’t help the sense of longing that pulled through her. She was thrilled to be an aunt, and she loved her nieces and her nephew. She knew Evelyn was trying to get pregnant again, but no announcements had been made. She was usually the last to know anything in the Foster family, as she did spend a lot of time alone, either shopping at estate sales, yard sales, or junkyards, or working on the “trash” she found and turning it into treasure.

  She had to drive a lot, as Three Rivers had plenty of yard sales in the summer, but not enough supplies to keep Simone working year-round. Since her sisters had both married billionaires, Simone had been able to keep all the money she made on her restoration projects. She made enough to buy herself a used delivery truck big enough to hold a lot of treasures. She was getting ready to go down to the swap meets in the Hill Country to stock up for the winter, and she liked bumping along in the delivery truck.

  It was a very long drive, and Simone almost didn’t want to make it—at least not alone. She normally took camping equipment with her, set up a tent in a commercial campground, and saved money on hotels. She was already looking forward to that, as Simone did love getting out and experiencing a little bit of Texas from time to time.

  She measured flour and baking soda while the butter and sugars creamed. “You’ll be glad to get out of here,” she told herself. “And you don’t need a friend to go with you.”

  Besides, she knew perfectly well she didn’t want just a friend. She wanted Micah to be her boyfriend again. The missing inside her intensified until she thought for sure that today would be the day that she’d break.

  But she simply kept making cookies. She measured. She scraped. She added the dry ingredients. She poured in peppermint chips. She scooped. She bent. She baked.

  She steadfastly refused to look at her phone, which sat face-down on the counter next to the fridge. She would not go next door and see if Micah was home.

  He had a girlfriend.

  Simone simply needed to find someone else.

  “You can,” she told herself, surveying the three dozen cookies she’d turned out. Leaning both hands into the counter and tipping her head back, she sighed as she looked up at the ceiling. “Please, Lord, help me find someone else. Or know what to do about Micah.”

  Her house was very quiet, only the hum of the refrigerator behind her and the low rush of the air conditioning keeping the cabin cool.

  “What should I do about Micah Walker?” she asked. She believed God knew exactly how she felt about Micah. He was aware of her, and He’d led her many times to good things in her life.

  Why not Micah too? she wondered.

  Simone closed her eyes and listened, trying to discover what the Lord wanted her to do. “If I’m supposed to give him up, just let me know,” she said. “I’ll try to find a way to do it.” And she could do it then, because she knew God didn’t give her a trial she couldn’t handle.

  Go visit Daddy and Grams.

  Simone didn’t see how a visit to her father and her elderly grandmother would do much good, but she also didn’t have a habit to question the Lord.

  And her father loved peppermint cookies too, so Simone put six on a paper plate, grabbed her keys, and headed out.

  Twenty minutes later, Simone pulled into Daddy’s driveway. His truck hadn’t moved since the last time she’d been here, and she wasn’t sure if that was comforting or not. She’d brought dinner a little over a week ago, and she’d helped her father order groceries to be delivered. She’d checked with Whitney, whose family owned the store where Daddy had ordered from, and Whitney said he’d set up a recurring order once a week.

  So at least they wouldn’t starve.

  “Grams?” she called as she entered. “Daddy?” She went down the hall past the formal living room that had become a museum for things no one ever touched and found her family in the family room.

  “Simone.” Grams grinned at her and took several long seconds to push herself out of her armchair. By that time, Simone had put the peppermint cookies on the kitchen counter and turned to steady her grandmother.

  She kissed her cheek, feeling the papery, soft texture of her skin. “Grams, you look good.” Simone smiled at her and held onto her arms. “Have you been getting out and walking?”

  “Heavens, no,” Grams said, waving her hand. “But Belinda comes here and makes me do some exercises.”

  “She does, huh?” Simone released her grandmother as her father came in the back door.

  “I thought I heard someone pull up,” he said, smiling at her.

  “Hey, Daddy, I brought some of those peppermint cookies you love.”

  “Thanks, sugar.” He stepped over to the counter and picked one up, taking a bite. “Mm.”

  “What were you doing outside?” Simone peered out the window over the dining room table. Callie and Evelyn used to be the sisters who monitored their father and grandmother, but with the additions to their families, the task had fallen to Simone for the past couple of years. She didn’t mind it so much, because no one else was relying on her for anything. To be honest, she felt a bit lost among all of the people in her life.
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  They had lifeboats with spouses and significant others, babies and children. She was in a raft built for one, and it seemed like no matter what she tried to do to get into a bigger boat, she only ended up capsizing her own.

  “Oh, just ripping out those old rose bushes,” Daddy said.

  “The rose bushes?” Alarm pulled through Simone, and she looked at her father. He looked like he’d lost a battle with a whole herd of cats, as he had scratches up and down both arms. “Why don’t you just call someone?”

  “Who would I call?”

  “Rhett,” Simone said. “Liam. The two of them could come over and have them out in no time.” Simone narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you taking them out anyway? I thought you liked them.”

  “I did.” Her father picked up another cookie, and at this rate, Grams wouldn’t get any if Simone didn’t rescue one for her. She’d made her way back to the recliner in the family room, and Simone shot her a glance.

  “I’m going to go wash up,” her dad said. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

  “What are you making?” Simone asked, watching him shuffle through the dining room and kitchen. The house was cleaner than normal, and he seemed more…spry than she’d seen him in a while. Something was definitely afoot; she just didn’t know what. Yet.

  “Oh, we’re having someone bring burritos,” he said when he reached the mouth of the hall that led down to his room.

  Simone’s eyebrows shot up. “Someone’s bringing them? Or delivering them?” There was a difference, Simone knew. She moved into the family room when Daddy didn’t answer and perched on the edge of the couch. “What’s going on, Grams? Did you call the pastor again for meals? I told you not to do that. Callie, Evvy, and I can bring you dinner if you need it.”

  “He didn’t call the pastor,” Grams said, pushing herself in the rocking armchair with the toe of her foot. She kept her focus on the newspaper in front of her, and Simone couldn’t remember the last time she’d even touched a newspaper.

  “So you ordered dinner and are having it delivered.”