by Liz Isaacson
“Are you going to adopt?”
“We don’t know,” Colton said. “Annie doesn’t really want another child at all. She’s almost fifty years old and has two grown daughters.”
“Wes is that old.”
“Wes married someone a decade younger than him,” Colton said. He shook his head. “I’m fine, Ames. Don’t worry about me.”
Ames nodded, and the brothers parted ways. Ames brushed his teeth and put on his own pair of gym shorts. As he knelt beside his bed, his thoughts dried up.
“I just want everyone to be happy,” he said. “Myself, Sophia, Colton.”
With nothing left to say, Ames slid between the sheets, his mind suddenly whirring again. He noticed the difference between when he was praying and when he wasn’t, and he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the Lord.
He fell asleep faster than he ever had before.
Ames stayed out of Sophia’s way over the next couple of days. He didn’t text her first but waited for her to message him. He didn’t drive up the canyon to her cabin and wait on her front steps. He didn’t try to see her during the day while she was with the Walkers.
He’d gone to Cy’s on Monday, as planned. He’d visited the shop to see if he could get a motorcycle to ride that summer. He’d left his in Three Rivers, and the roads through the mountains here practically begged him to get out of the truck and experience Wyoming from the back of a motorcycle.
Marissa, Cy’s shop manager, had told him that Cy had at least five motorcycles in the garage on his property. Ten minutes later, Ames had lifted the door on the garage to find his brother had seven motorcycles stored inside.
He didn’t want to bother Cy on his honeymoon either, so Ames hunted around in the kitchen, opening drawers, until he found the one with all the keys in it. Grabbing them all, he returned to the detached garage and started trying keys in ignitions until he got one to start.
The bike rumbled beneath him, and Ames felt something calm and perfect move through him. This was exactly where he needed to be, and he was doing exactly what he needed to do. He aimed the bike north, the wind in his hair and his mind blissfully blank about anything that didn’t have to do with riding the motorcycle.
Cy had often told him that riding a motorcycle was the only thing that settled him, and Ames understood his brother on a deeper level during his ride. He wasn’t exactly sure where the dog rescue operation was up here, but he had plenty of time to ride around, and he could read street signs as well as the next person.
His thumb had healed enough to be able to manage the bike, and Ames loved the scent of the mountain air as it brushed past his face.
He and Sophia would come together tomorrow, but today, Ames parked his bike and looked around. No one came to greet him, though he could hear plenty of barking from somewhere on the property.
He couldn’t seem to take the first step toward the door of the nearest building. He didn’t want to be here right now. He and Sophia were coming together tomorrow.
So he got right back on the motorcycle and got out of there. He drove too fast back to Coral Canyon, and he didn’t stop when he passed the orchard where he should’ve turned off to get to Cy’s house nestled in a grove of trees.
He just kept going, turning right and heading for Jackson Hole. Maybe he could just ride and ride and ride. No one would even know that he’d left until tomorrow morning, when Sophia expected him to pick her up.
Then he remembered Blue Velvet, and he slowed to turn around and go back. He knew better than to try to outrun his problems anyway, but it sure had been freeing to try, even for a few minutes.
“If you could just give me a hint,” he said, the air flowing past him almost muting his voice. “Doesn’t have to be huge. I can take a hint.”
In the very next moment, his phone buzzed in his back pocket. He couldn’t pull it out to see who’d texted, but when he got back to Cy’s place and had put the motorcycle back in its rightful spot, he remembered his phone.
“Sophia,” he said, remembering exactly when this text had come in—right after he’d asked the Lord for a hint and promised Him that he could take it. He spun toward the house, the word, “Blue,” coming from his mouth.
He jogged toward the back door and yanked it open. “Blue,” he said again as the dog spilled outside. “Come on. Hurry up and take care of your business. Then we’re going up to the lodge to see Sophia.”
Chapter Thirteen
Bree fought back the tears as she listened to Wes’s line ring and ring and ring. “Why isn’t he answering?” she asked, the first tear sliding down her face. She swiped at it, because she was tougher than the pain searing its way through her shoulder.
Echoes of it moved into her back, and panic struck her in the chest. If she’d hurt the baby because she’d stumbled down the last few steps, she’d never forgive herself. She’d gone upstairs to get the blanket she’d taken with her last night, when she’d gone to lay with Michael.
She and Wes were trying to transition him from his crib to a toddler bed, and his adventurous spirit wouldn’t allow him to go to bed and stay there. He’d been coming downstairs every ten minutes in the past week, and Bree was exhausted.
She ended the call when her husband’s voice came on the recording. She tried Gray next, as she’d called Wes three times now without getting him. Maybe he’d left his phone somewhere, as he did sometimes. Gray never went anywhere without his, and Bree drew in a deep breath and held it as the line sat there, silent.
When it didn’t ring, she pulled the phone from her ear and looked at it. Gray’s smiling face sat there, along with his name, but the call hadn’t connected. Desperation choked her, and a sob rolled through her chest. She tried to swallow it but failed, and a fresh wave of tears rolled down her face.
She paused and took breath after breath, trying to calm herself. “You’re okay,” she said, putting her hand on her stomach. She was five months pregnant, so there was definitely a belly for her to rest her hands on. She wished she could feel the baby’s heartbeat through the layers of her skin and muscles.
The baby had started kicking and moving recently, and she pressed her eyes closed and whispered, “Let him kick. Please, Lord, don’t let him be hurt.”
She and Wes hadn’t learned the sex of the baby yet, but Bree still used the male pronouns for some reason.
The baby did not kick.
She tried to lift her right arm, and a sharp, slicing pain shocked her. She gasped, and she knew she needed help. She’d slipped on the steps, and when she’d come to a stop, her right arm was still up a few stairs, her shoulder rotated way too far. Her right leg was at the bottom of the steps, and she’d strained the muscle that ran up her shinbone. Her left leg was still on the fourth step, and she didn’t normally stretch her legs in that way.
She’d sat on the steps for a moment, the blanket tangled around her, to catch her breath. Then she’d gotten up and limped to the couch, where she’d been trying to get in touch with Wes for ten minutes.
“Elise,” she said, and she tapped to get her friend’s number on the screen. She watched the screen, relieved when the call connected and the line started ringing. But she didn’t answer either, and Bree’s whole face squinched up as she let herself cry fully now.
Wes had taken Michael to Gray and Elise’s for the night, because Bree just wanted to lay in bed and sleep, and he was so kind and mindful of her mental and physical health. They might have been in Gray’s basement, and because his house sat halfway up the mountain, the service wasn’t great.
Colton only lived a couple of miles away, but Bree hesitated to get him on the line. He and Annie were dealing with their family issues, and Bree knew Colton wanted kids of his own, and Annie was done having babies. The last thing she wanted to do was rub her pregnancy in Colton’s face.
He was one of her best friends, and she could not stand to hurt him.
Her baby still hadn’t moved, and though Bree hadn’t landed on her stomach at all, she had practically
done the splits, and she’d stretched some things down there that she didn’t normally stretch. She wanted to go to the hospital and make sure she was okay, and that the baby was okay.
She couldn’t get in touch with Wes, Gray, or Elise, and she wouldn’t call Colton or Annie. “Ames,” she said, her mind seizing onto another Hammond who’d recently come to Coral Canyon.
She got his number pulled up, and she tapped on the green phone icon, glad when the line started ringing immediately.
“Bree?” Ames asked, his voice far away and slightly tinny. “What’s going on?”
“I’m so sorry, Ames,” she said, her tears starting anew. “I need help, and I can’t get a hold of Wes or Gray or Elise.”
“Are you at home?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’m already in the truck on the way to town.”
“Are you sure? Where are you going?”
“To your house,” he said. “Be there soon.” He ended the call before Bree could protest again.
She wiped her face, trying to erase the evidence of her pain and stress. Using her right hand, she tried to lift her left hand above her head, but she couldn’t do it as pain ripped down to the very tips of her fingers, down her side and across her ribs, and spread through her back.
Ames hadn’t even asked what kind of help she needed. He’d just come, and Bree leaned back, the pressure from the couch against her back easing some of the pain. She tried not to move her left hand, elbow, arm, or shoulder at all, because she’d hurt herself badly there. She couldn’t pretend like she hadn’t.
She tried Wes again, but his phone didn’t even ring before the voicemail picked up. He was definitely somewhere without service.
A knock sounded on the door, and almost immediately after that, Ames called, “Bree?”
“I’m right here,” she said, pushing herself up with her good arm. She heard his footsteps behind her, and then he was there. “I slipped on the steps, and I hurt my shoulder.” Her leg, her ankle, and maybe the baby wasn’t okay. But Bree couldn’t say any of that as more emotion choked in her throat.
A slip of embarrassment moved through her, because she was unshowered, without makeup, and wearing a pair of black leggings with an oversized T-shirt. “I need you to take me to the hospital.”
Ames pushed the coffee table out of the way and knelt in front of her. “You think it’s that bad?”
Bree nodded. “It’s that bad, Ames. I can’t move my shoulder at all. I think I dislocated it.” She wiped her face with her right hand. “And I sort of did the splits, and I want the doctor to check on the baby.”
Ames’s eyes immediately came to hers. “You’re pregnant?”
She nodded, her eyes filling with tears again. “I’m sorry to take you from wherever you were going.”
“Don’t,” he said, standing. “It’s nothing. I’m doing nothing.” He put both hands under her right arm and helped her stand. “Can you walk? Do I need to carry you?”
“I can walk,” she said, because this was embarrassing enough. If he were Wes, she wouldn’t feel so self-conscious, and she told herself that Ames didn’t care what she was wearing or how she looked. He cared about her too.
He helped her into his truck, and he took her to the hospital. Along the way, he tried Wes twice, with no success. “What the heck are they doing?” he grumbled. “I’ll send Colt up there.”
“You don’t—”
“Your husband should be here,” Ames said, giving her a look out of the corner of his eye. “Call Colton.”
The truck dialed Colton, who picked up with a, “What’s up, bro?”
“I’m in the truck with Bree,” Ames said. “She fell, and I’m taking her to the hospital. We can’t get in touch with Wes or Gray or Elise. She said Wes took Michael to Gray’s, and they’re probably in the basement watching a movie.”
“I’m already heading out the door,” Colton said. “Is she okay?”
Bree glanced at Ames, and he told her story to Colton. “We’re almost there, and I’m taking her to emergency,” Ames said.
“Okay,” Colton said. “Bree, my best friend on the planet. You hang in there, okay?” His voice pitched up and caused Bree’s face to tense up again as she tried to hold back her tears.
“Thank you, Colt,” she said, not caring that her tears were evident in her voice. “Tell Wes I’m okay. There’s nothing life-threatening.” She felt Ames’s eyes on the side of her face, but she didn’t say anything else.
“Keep me updated,” Colton said.
“Will do.” Ames turned into the hospital parking lot and ended the call at the same time. “You’re more worried about your baby than you let him know.”
“You told him I wanted the baby to be checked,” she said, pulling in a long breath to try to calm herself. She was about to go into public, and she didn’t want to be a blubbering mess. “We haven’t told anyone about the baby.”
“News is out now,” Ames said. “Congrats, by the way.”
“Don’t congratulate me.” Bree sobbed and shook her head. “What if I lose the baby?” She looked at Ames as he pulled into the circular driveway in front of the emergency room door.
Ames jumped out of the truck and ran around the front. He opened her door and crowded into the space there. He looked her right in the eye and said, “You’re not going to lose this baby. Okay?” He wiped her face for her and added, “Let’s do what Colt said, all right? Let’s hang in there and not worry about what-ifs until we have facts.”
He stepped back and let her slide out of the truck. She cried out as her shoulder got jostled and a flash of pain moved through her entire left side.
“I can get a wheelchair,” he said.
“I’m okay.” She gasped and panted, but she managed to get inside on her own.
Ames took charge then, and together, she got checked in, and because it wasn’t very busy, she was taken back almost the moment the nurse finished putting her information into the computer.
“What’s your pain level?” the nurse asked as she took her back.
“My shoulder is at a ten,” Bree said. “But I’m most worried about the baby.”
“We’ll get everything checked,” the nurse promised as she led Bree into a little room. Ames was right there with her, and he helped her get up on the table. By the time she was situated, another nurse had entered the room. He put a clip on her finger to check her pulse while the woman that had walked back with them started talking about the painkillers they needed for the IV drip.
“I’m Phil,” the man said. “Let’s get this up, and get you to lie back. Then we can listen for your baby’s heartbeat.”
“Our doctor tonight is Doctor Banks,” the woman said. “I’m Jennika, and Phil and I will be with you tonight. I’m just going to get this IV in.” She did that, and then Bree let them both help her slide up on the table as Phil made it more into a bed.
“I don’t want strong drugs,” Bree said.
“We’ve got acetaminophen,” Jennika said. “I’ll give you a low dose.”
Bree nodded and breathed in through her nose.
Phil and Jennika left, and she looked toward Ames, who’d somehow made himself invisible and small against the wall. He came forward and took her hand. “It’s okay, Bree,” he said. “It’s going to be okay.”
She nodded and gripped his hand with all the strength she could muster, because she wanted him to be right so badly. “Will you pray for me?”
“Absolutely.” Ames swiped off his cowboy hat and pressed it to his chest. “Dear Lord, we ask Thee to comfort Bree. She’s in pain and scared and worried, and if possible, please help her to be calm and to accept Thy will. Bless her baby that he’ll be okay, and please bless Wes and Gray and Elise to get here soon and safely.” He paused, and several seconds later, he said, “Amen.”
Bree kept her eyes closed as she said, “Amen,” too, and felt a drape of comfort and calmness come over her. “Thanks,
Ames.”
“Of course,” he whispered, and while he put on a tough front and was definitely the most mysterious of the Hammond brothers, he was exactly like them in a lot of ways. He loved the Lord, and he had faith. He worked hard, and he cared about his family. She was sure she’d pulled him from Sophia that night, and she’d have to apologize to her friend too.
Phil returned, and he said, “I’m just putting the acetaminophen in now, Bree. You okay?”
“Yes,” she said. “When will the doctor be in?”
“She’s just finishing up with another patient,” Phil said, and Bree nodded. It still took ten more minutes before the dark-haired woman wearing a white coat came in, and she actually wore a smile.
Bree was annoyed instantly, and she knew that was due to her pain and worry. Still, she couldn’t get herself to smile back.
“You’re pregnant?” she asked, looking down at the clipboard in her hands with Phil and Jennika crowded into the room too.
“Yes,” Bree said. “Five months.”
“How many weeks?”
“Twenty-one,” Bree said.
She set the clipboard down as she said, “I’m Doctor Banks, and let’s see if we can hear this baby’s heartbeat.” She glanced at Ames. “Are you the dad?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I’m the brother-in-law. The dad is on his way.”
Dr. Banks looked at Bree. “He’s okay to be here?”
“Absolutely,” Bree said.
The doctor smiled again, and she unlooped her stethoscope from around her neck. She put the appropriate pieces in her ears and Bree pulled up her shirt. She definitely had a baby bump there, and a flash of love for her unborn child filled her.
Dr. Banks put her stethoscope on Bree’s stomach, and the chill of it made her flinch. She smiled and focused on something on the floor. She moved the stethoscope around for couple of seconds, and then she grinned. “Good news, Bree. Your baby’s heartbeat is strong and steady.”
“Really?” Bree’s relief made her sigh, but it took a few seconds for her to process what the doctor had said. “He’s okay?”