But the confident tone didn’t reach her eyes. She looked worried. In pain. Alone. And it tore him up inside. He wanted to help. He wanted to make everything better, and she just kept shutting him down.
He pulled her with him and slid his arm around her waist and sent the waiting nurse his public smile. Ah shucks. Of course it was someone he knew from school.
“Humor me then because I am a long way from fine.”
“Anderson Albrecht Wolf, it’s good to see you.” Trista McNally smiled at him. “Guess you don’t spend all your time away from town. I hear congratulations are in order.”
“Good to see you, Trista,” he said wincing at the sound of his full name that he did his best to forget. “I didn’t know you’d gone into nursing.”
“Finished my RN degree two years ago and going to start more training so I can work with the moms and their new babies in the postnatal ward. Let’s get your weight first.” Trista stopped by the scale.
Tinsley shot him a look he ignored.
“Wonderful, Trista. I remember you always liked babies, but it was usually the baby goats at the fair.”
She laughed. “You remember that.”
“This is my fiancée, Tinsley Underhill. She’s new in town and will be opening up August’s tasting room sometime soon.”
Tinsley jumped at the F word. Too bad. He was tired of walking on eggshells. He seen her easily run over every cowboy, stock contractor, advertising exec, and western suited-up business owner he’d seen take a shot with her. He wasn’t going to be one more reject under her boots.
She’s mine. And he didn’t have back down in his skill set.
He hadn’t been looking to become a husband or father so soon. And Tinsley didn’t hit many points on his perfect wife list. She was beautiful and sexy, but complicated, independent, ambitious, and assertive. All great traits in a woman, but not what he’d been picturing in a wife.
He stepped back and pretended a great interest in the black-and-white baby pictures that lined the halls while Tinsley was weighed. He might be pushing Tinsley to her brink right now, but even he knew women didn’t like to share their weight, and he imagined a newly pregnant woman might be even more self-conscious. Dumb. She looked good enough to eat, and she’d felt warm and light in his arms.
“Room four.” Trista indicated the room with a sweeping flourish of her hand as if she were a game show model showing off a prize.
“You’re not coming in with me,” Tinsley said firmly, balking at the door.
He nudged her into the exam room. “Yes. I am. I’m worried.”
“But—” She bit the left side of her bottom lip once and then immediately stopped and smoothed out her features. “Really, I’m fine,” she said. “Anders is just overreacting,” she said to the nurse.
“Lots of first-time daddies do.” Trista smiled. “You’ll get used to it.”
Anders nearly laughed at Tinsley’s horrified expression.
He’d removed his hat the minute they’d entered the building, and now he nervously ran the brim through his fingers and looked at Tinsley as she perched on the edge of the exam table. The paper crinkled annoyingly, and she winced.
“I’ll get your blood pressure and temp, and then the doctor can come in and talk to you about your symptoms.”
“I don’t have any symptoms,” Tinsley said coolly.
“Two panic attacks, shallow breathing, clammy skin, very pale complexion, shaking and racing heart,” Anders said. “And she has a headache.”
“I can answer for myself,” she said tightly.
“Then do so.” He sat in the chair, stretching his legs out and crossing them at his ankles, then he drew them back closer to the chair so he didn’t trip anyone. With the doctor coming soon, space would be at a premium.
“Do you often have panic attacks?” Trista asked. “Do you take medicine for them?”
Anders tried to keep his expression neutral. Tinsley was the most outgoing, confident woman he’d met. The idea of her having regular panic attacks was absurd. But he’d witnessed two. Guilt rode him hard. He was pushing too much. He had to back off.
“Not for many years,” Tinsley said reluctantly. “No meds. Not…not anymore.”
Anders felt like she was deliberately avoiding looking at him. Was he invading her privacy being here? But it was his baby too. Tinsley and the baby were his responsibility. How could he do his job without all the information?
“Date of your last period?” Trista asked, booting up the computer and staring at Tinsley intently.
“June 19.”
Trista made notes. “If you going to stay with Dr. Graham for the duration of your pregnancy, you’ll want to have your OB records released to us, including your eight-week appointment.”
“Oh. I haven’t had an appointment for the pregnancy.”
“But the pregnancy is medically confirmed?” Trista asked, looking up from the computer.
Tinsley wiggled out of her motorcycle boots. Each one clunked to the floor. She had sparkly purple toenails.
“Three tests over a week, each time hoping for a different result, but no, each time a thumbs-up.” She peeled off her T-shirt and leaned back on the table on her elbows. She looked sexy in her bikini, and despite the pregnancy, her abs were still cut. He couldn’t help staring—trying to see changes in her body. Her breasts definitely fuller, spilling out of the cups of her bikini top.
Anders felt all the spit in his mouth dry dang near to his gut. “Pregnancy tests.” He tried to stamp down his lustful observations. “They don’t really have a thumbs-up sign?”
“Anders Wolf, you have your brain shook up one too many times on the back of one of those bulls?” Trista demanded, grinning at him like they were back in high school, and he had done something particularly foolish to get a cheerleader’s attention. “Men, am I right?” Trista asked Tinsley, pulling out the blood pressure cuff.
“Absolutely,” Tinsley said and lifted her arms, which lifted her breasts up like a gift. She ran her fingers through her thick, wavy copper-colored hair and took an elastic from the collection on her wrist before twisting it around the mass of her glorious hair. Then she stuck her arm out toward the nurse.
“Blood pressure it is.” She smiled all sugar sweet at him. He adjusted himself in his seat, and she definitely noticed. Her chin tilted in challenge and Anders pondered the effectiveness of a leash.
Trista completed her exam, asked some questions, made some notes and then in a personal note as she was leaving, determined that she would come by the wine bar next week with some friends when it opened.
“Your tasting is on me,” Tinsley said. “And if you join the wine club, your future tastings will be free and there’ll be discounts on wine and other items purchased.”
“Don’t you think you should be taking this more seriously?” he demanded, irritated with how friendly she was with everyone but him—and a million other things. He felt like he was crawling out of his skin. “You’re in your OB’s office trying to drum up customers for the tasting room.”
“It’s my job.” She smirked. “If I irritate you so much, you could wait outside.”
That wasn’t happening, but before he could think of something to say more useful than gritting his teeth, the doctor knocked and opened the door.
“Trista didn’t give you a gown?” she asked, hand on the door handle, then she stepped forward and introduced herself. “Dr. Kristen Graham. I believe congratulations are in order.” She smiled, all confidence, reassurance, straight white teeth and beautiful, heavily lashed blue eyes.
She handed Tinsley a folded hospital gown. Tinsley slipped her arms through the fabric, leaving the back gaping open.
“Looks like you went swimming. The Wolfs have the best swimming holes on their ranch, according to my younger sister and brother. August liked to throw midnight Saturday parties in the summer.” She smiled. “I was a year ahead of Axel, and he was always serious and focused. No parties. Is the swimming hole
as nice as I’ve heard?”
Tinsley blushed. “I was in the pool, but, yes, the swimming hole is a little too amazing.”
“That sounds promising. Any idea of the conception date?”
Tinsley made a weird sound.
“Axel’s and August’s double wedding,” Anders said, noting that Tinsley’s blush went down her neck. Too bad she’d put the gown on. “At said swimming hole.”
Tinsley’s mouth dropped open.
“A little TMI, cowboy,” the doctor said. “But I suppose the Wolfs always want a good story to tell. This can be one more in your long family legacy.” She washed her hands before picking up a small piece of equipment and a bottle of what looked like gel.
And his tension was back.
“Your due date will be in late March.”
March. It was months away but still so soon. He’d be in the early stages of the tour. Far away. He’d need to take time off. Change his will. His beneficiary. The list grew in his head, and he almost missed what the OB said next.
“On the notes, it said you hadn’t yet had an appointment with an OB. Do you want to hear the heartbeat?”
“Can we?” they both asked at the same time. He was eager. Tinsley sounded more freaked out.
“You’re at around eleven weeks. Let’s listen and go from there.”
She helped Tinsley to lie down.
“This is a fetal doppler.” Tinsley’s fist balled at her sides and she stared up at the ceiling. Anders had tried to sit in the blue chair provided for significant others, not that Tinsley seemed to consider him that, but he was too edgy. He didn’t know what he expected, but when a fast-paced whooshing filled the room, reminding him of hummingbird wings, he lost the ability to breathe.
He stared at the exposed creamy tautness that was Tinsley’s abdomen. She held life inside of her. The life of their child. His vision went a little blurry, and he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead.
It was real.
They were having a baby.
He was going to be a dad.
Chapter Ten
Tinsley sat in Anders’ truck, silent and staring at a vague midpoint on the horizon. A small, black-and-white photo she hadn’t wanted and hadn’t yet dared look at lay face down on her lap. She hadn’t been prepared to hear the heartbeat. She’d still been processing that she had a little stowaway on board who was going to take over her life when the doctor had asked her about bleeding.
She’d spotted off and on over the past couple of months, which was why she’d held out hope she wasn’t pregnant. The doctor had said that wasn’t uncommon, but she wanted to do an ultrasound to make sure the baby looked good and the implantation was successful. Tinsley had stared at the white textured tiles in the ceiling, imagining herself far away from this room and the doctor and her fate.
Anders had agreed to the ultrasound like it was a prize they’d won. She hadn’t paid much attention. It seemed dumb now, sitting in the truck, because she felt so many changes in her body, but somehow the baby’s heartbeat made everything seem so real.
She’d imagined the ultrasound would be on another day in another building when Anders was back on the tour, but no. Before she could gather her composure, cool gel was smeared low on her belly and a wand produced an image that Tinsley hadn’t turned her head to see, but Anders’ face had been as rapt as a pilgrim on a holy quest.
No one ever looked at me that way.
And that selfish, pathetic thought shamed her.
Anders was excited about the baby.
That was good news for the baby, right?
She was the problem. She wasn’t the woman lovingly stroking her stomach and looking blissfully into the future. She wasn’t posting her ultrasound on Insta.
She was barely holding it together.
They didn’t speak until they arrived back at the tasting room. Somehow she’d thought he’d take her back to the ranch for dinner—maybe even try to keep her there so that the little lady was off her feet and captive, like his ancestors had likely done.
Anders turned off the truck.
“You’re being awfully calm about this,” she said into the pulsing silence.
“About the baby?” He fiddled with his keys, and glanced at the back of the photo. “No. Not really.”
Somehow that made her feel better and worse at the same time. But really, what did she want him to do, yell? Rail against fate? She’d done enough of that for both of them. She was exhausted.
And she was a horrible person.
“Hearing the heartbeat and seeing the picture makes it all real,” he said softly. He reached for the picture, and she held her breath.
“You can take it, if you want. Show your family,” she said. She didn’t want it lying about where it could ambush her, and yet she knew she could never be callous enough to toss the picture in the trash.
That would be courting disaster.
Had her mother gotten an ultrasound picture? Had she smiled at and touched her abdomen in wonder? Tinsley had a hard time imagining that.
“Have you shared our news with any family?” Anders asked as if he were a mind reader.
She nearly crawled out of her skin.
The tasting room blurred in front of her and she willed herself not to cry. Hanging baskets. She should have hanging baskets bursting with colorful blooms outside of the tasting room.
“August implied that perhaps your parents died,” Anders said softly, his voice aching with sympathy.
Of course. He felt he could relate. An orphan, except he’d had two brothers to guide him.
Relief coursed through her. It was an out she didn’t think she’d get, and she seized it. But guilt followed almost immediately. She should be honest with him, but how could she explain her parents? Her life before? The girl and woman she’d been? Her life had been so different from his.
And she wasn’t sure she could take the way he’d change around her. Or perhaps his interest in the money. She was just so tired. She felt like if she said anything or moved, she’d break.
His exhalation sounded defeated, but his fingers lightly brushed the back of her hand.
“You’re not alone in the world anymore, Tinsley. You’ll have me and my family and the baby.”
He was waiting for a response. She hadn’t wanted anyone—the expectations, the hurts, the betrayals. Alone was safer. But Anders was a good man. He thought he was doing the right thing.
Her heart twisted.
She dug deep for words. “Just a lot to take in.”
“Of course. I’ll walk you in.”
She felt too drained to even open the passenger door of his truck.
Not that she needed to. Anders, who always opened doors for her, was there. He helped her out. Carried her change of clothes to the locked tasting room door and then pulled out the keys Catalina had given her and unlocked the door.
The door closed behind them. All she wanted to do was fall asleep. She hadn’t felt this bone-exhausted since she’d left home, John, and her life behind five years ago.
“I’m happy you’ve been taking the prenatal vitamins,” Anders said into the silence.
She had started those even when she didn’t want to think she was pregnant. Not like the extra boost would have hurt her if the baby hadn’t been real.
But it was.
She’d heard proof.
She could see proof if she’d look at the picture.
And even though she hadn’t gained weight and wasn’t showing, she felt so different.
Alien.
“I need some time alone,” she said, certain he wouldn’t give it to her. And the worst part was, part of her wanted him to stay, to hold her.
And then she remembered she had no furniture. She’d picked some out at the barn from a surprisingly large and modern and stylish collection, and Anders had bought a king-size mattress. But she still needed groceries, dishes, small appliances, flatware… Her head felt woozy just thinking of all the things she was go
ing to need to set up the apartment.
She needed to eat something too. The doctor had been firm on that—no skipping meals. And she needed to carry nutritional snacks with her. Her blood sugar was too low, which was causing her dizziness.
But first so much needed to be done for the tasting room. She couldn’t let Catalina or August down. She had to rise up—pregnant—yuck—or not.
“I can do it. I can do anything,” she whispered under her breath, motivating herself to walk upstairs and retake charge of her life.
Of course, Anders paced alongside her.
He seemed like he was holding his shit together much better than she was. Score one for the cowboy.
She reached the top of the landing. There was a fairly large, open office for the tasting room, and opposite a bright green door. She liked the whimsy of the green color—like something out of a Disney movie. You couldn’t be stressed or angry and sad living behind a green door, right?
She went to unlock the door, but Anders reached around her, his own key ready, and then swung the door open.
“Oh.”
The apartment was furnished. Two butternut-squash-colored couches flanked a nubby black-and-white patterned rug. A large, wide rust-colored leather chair with an ottoman completed the living room furniture. There was even a Pendleton throw blanket and a white-tiled coffee table.
“Bedroom’s finished, and I ordered groceries. I’m…I’m sorry I don’t know very much about what you like to eat. I bought staples and food I researched online that was recommended during pregnancy.”
His voice was formal, his complexion a little pale, but two slashes of pink colored his cheeks and for the first time she could remember, he didn’t meet her gaze. Why would he know? It wasn’t like they’d done much eating together. They hadn’t been in a relationship.
She hadn’t wanted to risk that again. Ever.
“Thank you, Anders. You’re being really nice about—” she shrugged and looked around the stylish apartment “—everything. And I’m being a selfish, poor me, whiney woman.”
“You’re not—”
“I am,” Tinsley cut him off. “I am very self-aware. I just… It’s a big adjustment, and I’m not there yet. I’m a long way from there.” At least she could give him honesty about that.
A Baby for the Texas Cowboy Page 8
