“You’re not seriously thinking about having this baby all by yourself, are you?” The words tumbled out before he’d thought them through. “I mean, you need help. There’s got to be someone who can take you to the hospital when you go into labor.”
She flashed him a surprised glance, then averted her eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.”
“What does that mean?” He set his fork down. He’d lost his appetite, anyhow. “Do you have someone to be there with you or not?”
Her hands balled into fists, and she pulled them onto her lap.
“Kit?” He used his you’d-better-tell-me voice.
“I found an apartment two blocks away from the hospital. It will be available in a month or so. And the extended-stay hotel is nearby, too. Like I said, I’ve got it covered.”
That was her idea of having it covered? He wanted to wipe his hands down his cheeks in frustration.
“But what if—”
“My whole life is one big what-if right now, so please don’t lecture me.”
He clenched his jaw. Lecture her? He’d hound her until she talked sense. What did she think? That she could walk a few blocks to the hospital when she got contractions? Of all the foolish ideas...
“I’m doing what’s best for me and the baby. Wyoming Medical Center has a level two neonatal intensive care unit, and, if necessary, they’ll transfer the baby to a level three or level four NICU. I’m better off in Casper.”
He couldn’t argue with that. But more worries, more questions came to mind.
“You quit your job. What’s your medical insurance situation?”
“I’m paying for an extension of the insurance I had through work.”
“Can you afford it?”
“I have Cam’s life insurance.”
“Will it last?”
She glared at him. Wade didn’t care. He needed to know she’d be all right.
“Honestly, I don’t know. Specialists and hospitals tend to be expensive, even with insurance.”
“If you need help...” He had no idea where he’d get the money, but if Kit was broke, he’d figure out something. Selling Del Poncho came to mind.
“I don’t.”
“Are you sure?” Why was he pressing her, when he wasn’t in a position to help? Old habits died hard, he guessed.
She stared at him dead on. The muscle in her cheek flickered. “I’m not taking one red cent from you. This is my life, my baby and I’m a grown woman. I’ll handle it. It’s bad enough I had to ask you to let me stay here for the week.”
What was that supposed to mean? Didn’t she want his help? His friendship?
“You might want to sheath those claws. I thought we were friends.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m not good company lately. Thanks for dinner and everything. I think it’s best if I get out of your hair.” Pushing her chair back, she started to rise, and winced.
He was at her side in a heartbeat. “What’s wrong? You okay? Is it the baby? Should I call the doctor?” Who was her doctor? Was there a baby doctor around here? He had no clue. His ranch was over thirty minutes to Sweet Dreams, not exactly ideal in an emergency, and Sweet Dreams didn’t have a hospital.
“It’s nothing.” She patted his arm. “I get aches and pains now and then. They go away.”
“I don’t think you should be running around.”
She let out a long-suffering sigh. “Do I look like I’m running around? I got up from a chair.”
“Why don’t you sit on the couch? Kick those legs up. I’ll put a movie on. Whatever you’d like.”
With a sad smile, she shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m really tired. I think I’ll go to bed. Don’t feel like you have to cook for me and entertain me this week. I’ll get along on my own just fine.”
What if he didn’t want her to get along on her own?
He’d done everything wrong tonight. He should do as she said and give her the space she needed. Tomorrow he had a meeting with Ray Simon, his real estate agent. The stack of bills he’d been hoarding in his home office meant he needed to come up with a plan.
He glanced at Kit. He’d try one more time.
“It’s early,” he said. “Stay.”
“Like I said, I’m real tired.”
He’d tried. It would have to be good enough.
“Then I guess I’ll take you back.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, Kit warred with her conscience as Wade parked his truck in front of her cabin. He’d been nothing but sweet and nice and caring since she’d arrived, and he’d offered to help with medical bills. Who did that? Only Wade. But she couldn’t accept his money. Money always had strings attached, and she’d been tied up pretty tightly in the past. Never again.
Still...this was Wade, and she’d hurt his feelings, and he was the one person who knew her history. She could count on him, and she’d treated him poorly.
She needed—and wanted—to make it up to him.
“Wait, don’t move a muscle. I’ll come around and help you.” Wade held his finger up, then got out and jogged over to her. His rough hand in her palm made her heart do a flip.
Strong, hardworking hands for a strong, hardworking man.
What would her life be like if she’d married someone like Wade instead of Cam?
What did it matter? No sense wasting energy on stupid thoughts like that. She’d made her bed and had to live with the consequences.
“Do you want to sit with me on the porch for a spell?” She gestured to the two rocking chairs angled to face the mountains.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
The sun glowed low on the horizon as they settled into the chairs. A herd of cattle grazed in the distance. The rocking motion soothed her, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach. Can you feel it, too, sweet one? This might be the only time she got to rock her little boy.
Really, she had to stop being so morbid.
She’d enjoy the baby now and not think about the future.
Nagging at the back of her mind were the key moments that had triggered the losses in her life. Getting the belt on a daily basis before being sent to the first foster home as a five-year-old. Not being docile enough for the second family and moving to the next foster home. The third home was where she’d met Wade. Happiest days of her life. Until the family moved out of state, scattering the foster kids. The next place she’d earned her keep, tucked away her needs and emotions to ensure she had a place to live.
Being her real self never felt safe. Whenever her true feelings came out, bad things happened. Just look at Cam.
“Tell me about this place,” she said. “I remember when you lived south of here. I’m assuming you still own that property. Is the little house still there?”
“The shack?” He clasped the ends of the rocker arms and slung one ankle over his knee. “I do still own it. That hundred acres was my first slice of owning a ranch. And, yeah, the shack is still there.”
“It