Coincidental Cowgirl

by Jillian Neal

  His interrogating eyes studied her closely. She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I’m not lying to you!” Her vehemence seemed to convince him.

  “You certainly don’t seem to be. Bad memories I suppose.”

  “Bad memories?” Hope mind spun rapidly. “Wait. You mean. You think Brock’s like his father?”

  “I never said that.”

  “But that is what you were asking me. Dr. Moore, my husband is kind, and sweet, and good, and wonderful to me and to everyone else.” Brock was all of those things, so why was she so frustrated with him lately? It wasn’t really his fault this town was insane.

  “I am sorry if I implied that. It’s my job to care for this community. I try not to make assumptions, but I saw Brock and his mother in here numerous times for bumps and bruises that they didn’t get from falling, even though that’s what his mother always told me.”

  “Brock would never hurt me.”

  “Understood. Please accept my apologies.”

  Hope nodded, but wasn’t certain she did forgive the accusations towards her husband.

  “All right, dear, I’m not going to put you through a vaginal exam today. I’m going to get you a sample of something that will ease the pain and urgency to urinate frequently. I’ll write you a prescription for that as well as soon as we have the results from your urine sample. Let me go see what’s keeping the nurse with those, and I’ll get you the pills that will ease the pain.”

  “Thank you.” Hope sat up and tried to button her jeans without pressing on her bladder.

  She sat there staring at the brown walls, wondering how to regain her equilibrium. She was still frustrated with Brock about not letting her drive and never being home, but knew she shouldn’t be. She may hate this town, but to him it would always be home. Gypsy Beach probably seemed odd to him when he’d moved there in high school. The image of the poodles sitting in the beauty shop chairs formed in her mind. Okay, Pleasant Glen was a special kind of crazy, but she tried to see things from his perspective. He’d always been protective of her, even before they were dating. Why couldn’t she just be happy again? Guilt, confusion, frustration, and pain swirled in a volatile mass in her stomach. She felt heavy with the weight of it all.

  “Hope, baby, are you all right?” Suddenly, he was there. Dr. Moore followed Brock in the room, smiling.

  “What are you doing here?” She reached for him. That was all she’d wanted since the night before when her world had come apart when he’d walked out the front door to fight a fire.

  His hazel eyes reflected his deep concern as he cradled her in his arms. “I would have been in here sooner. Had to tell Mindy to sit down and shut it because I was coming back here no matter what she thought.” He turned to Dr. Moore. “Is she okay? I can take her to St. Elizabeth’s.”

  Hope knew St. Elizabeth’s was the hospital in Lincoln. Surely this wasn’t that serious.

  “I don’t think that will be necessary, Brock. By the way, it’s good to see you again.” He offered Brock his hand. “Um, Hope, dear we’re having a hard time locating the specimen you left us. Where did you put it?”

  Lifting her head from her husband’s chest, she furrowed her brow. “I took it to the front desk like the nurse said to.”

  Dr. Moore tried to cover his chuckle. “Uh, I believe she meant the nurse’s desk, not the front desk. The nurse’s desk is at the other end of this hallway. I’ll go see if I can find that.”

  So, she’d carried her own pee through the waiting room for no good reason. Hope fell back against Brock’s chest. “How did you know I was here?”

  “Clarke called me.”

  “Who’s Clarke?”

  “The Sheriff’s Deputy. He said he pulled you over for some illegal turn or something. I’m going from here to see Sheriff Wilheim. I’ll get it taken care of. Clarke’s an asshat. Don’t worry about anything, but what specimen? What’s Doc Moore talking about?”

  “A urine sample. I think I have a bladder infection.” She sighed. “And apparently, I actually carried a cup of my own pee into the waiting room in front of all of those people, and I wasn’t supposed to.”

  Brock gently rubbed her back and planted a kiss on top of her head. “No one cares about that, darlin’. Is this serious? What do we need to do?”

  Willing patience from the stale air surrounding her, she wondered how he seemed so capable of not caring what other people thought. She sat back up and shook her head. “I don’t think it’s too serious. I’ve had one before.”

  Dr. Moore returned just then. “The nurse had already located it. Your urine sample doesn’t show an infection, but I suspect you do have a very slight one, Hope. We’ll send your sample to the lab to be sure, but I’m going to go ahead and treat you. I did test your urine for something else that showed up readily. I don’t really think the refill on birth control pills will be necessary. Take these, and I’ll get the prescriptions written.” He handed Hope a tiny brownish-red pill and a bottle of water.

  She downed the pill quickly, anxious for relief. “What do you mean the birth control pills aren’t necessary? What showed up readily?”

  “Urinary tract infections are quite common in women, especially when they’re pregnant. I had a sneaking suspicion that was it. If you haven’t yet missed a period yet, you’re very early on in the pregnancy. The antibiotic will take care of the infection, so no need to worry. Limit your caffeine. Get lots of rest, and drink lots and lots of water. Tylenol is fine for the fever, and the medication you just took should ease the bladder infection symptoms readily. You caught it early. You should be feeling better by this evening. Take one of those pills every few hours as often as you need them. Instead of the prescription for Ortho-Novum, I’m going to write you one for prenatal vitamins. If the nausea gets to be too much, I can give you something for that as well.”

  “Wait! I can’t be pregnant. I’m on the pill.” Hope’s entire world spun off its axis. Brock reached and wrapped his arm around her. Was he actually smiling? Something told her she should be happy. He appeared to be, but the only emotion she could locate was confusion. Everything that had happened the day before, everything she didn’t understand about living in Nebraska, everything she didn’t know about having a baby overwhelmed her. She gasped for breath. Nothing made sense.

  “The pill is only 99% effective, and the fact that you’ve been on the same one for years might’ve lessened its effectiveness. Whenever this happens, I generally tell people that the Big Man upstairs must’ve had other plans.”

  “Well, it would have been nice if the Big Man upstairs had checked with me first!” Hope couldn’t believe what she was being told.

  Brock stared at her like she’d just sprouted another head. “Hope,” he huffed under his breath. He appeared somewhat shell shocked as well, but she didn’t know if it was due to being told that they were very unexpectedly going to have a baby or her reaction to the news.

  She eased off the table, anxious to get out of there. She felt suffocated by her own existence. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Being shocked is completely normal. Take a few days and let it settle in. Remember, no alcohol, lots of rest, good healthy foods, but try not to let this change your marriage. Sex is fine. It’s healthy for the two of you, and having a healthy marriage is good for the baby. You’re only a few weeks along. There is a reason you get nine months to prepare. I don’t do many deliveries anymore. Most women prefer to see an obstetrician in Lincoln. I can recommend one if you’d like.” Dr. Moore’s grin continued to expand. “Like I said, take some time to let this sink in. Unless something out of the ordinary happens, you won’t need to see another doctor until you’ve passed the twelve-week mark.”

  “Could we just have second, Doc?” Brock’s plea made Hope feel more ashamed. She focused only on breathing. Everything else was too much just then.

  “Of course. I’m going to go get her prescriptions written. They’ll be at the front desk whenever you’re ready to
leave. She needs to start taking that immediately. Take good care of her, and congratulations, you two.” With that Dr. Moore left the room.

  Tears tracked down her face. She couldn’t halt them. She just didn’t have the strength.

  “Why are you crying, darlin’? I know it’s a little earlier than we’d planned, but …” Panic and elation fought for dominance in Brock’s mind. He didn’t know what to say. He assumed tears were probably normal, but that didn’t make his heart ache less.

  “Because, this wasn’t supposed to happen yet, and our house is always freezing cold, and the oven doesn’t like me, and yesterday, I wanted to shoot the coffe maker, and I fell in cow poop! And people in this town are completely insane, Brock! Completely! And censorship, and I never see you, and now you’re going to think that I hate it here just because I’m pregnant. I don’t know how to be a mom, but I want to be a good one.” Brock watched his wife cradle her own stomach. “I don’t know how to do anything, and it’s going to need me to know how to do everything. And you won’t teach me anything. I don’t know how the ranch works, or how to drive in the snow, or what to do with a baby, or why I hate this town, but I know that I do!” Her volume increased with each word until a racked sob consumed her explanation.

  Absolutely dumbfounded, Brock held her tighter. He made an attempt at navigating everything she’d just declared. They definitely needed to talk, but not there in the doctor’s office. How had he let her be so miserable for so long?

  “I don’t know what to do,” she managed to continue with another haggard draw of breath. “I have to take care of it. I love it.”

  “We will take care of our baby, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were so miserable. Let’s go get the medicine, and go home and talk, okay?”

  “I’m scared, and tired, and there are poodles at the beauty shop.” She convulsed against him.

  Furrowing his brow in complete confusion, he nodded.

  “Okay, I know, sugar, but I swear to you I will take care of you and the baby. I’ll do whatever you want. If you really hate it here, I’ll move you back to North Carolina, okay?” He tried to keep the defeat from his tone.

  “I have to go to the bathroom again.”

  Brock helped her off the table and guided her towards the restrooms. Fantasies of her swollen full of their baby mixed in with the all too real images of her declarations that she hated life on the ranch. If sympathy nausea was a thing, he suddenly had it. “I’ll wait right here, darlin’. Go ahead.” Worry weighted every chiseled plane of his body.

  Still unable to dry her tears of frustrated confusion, Hope whisked down the hallway. She halted suddenly when a dog bound out of the room to her right, barking and growling at her. Her heart flew, and she instinctively wrapped her arms over her abdomen again. Brock was there instantly. He had the dog by the collar.

  “Go on, I’ve got him. He’s being obstinate. Doesn’t recognize you. I’d never let anything hurt you, sugar. You know that, don’t you?” The pain and concern in Brock’s tone couldn’t quite sooth her shock over being pregnant.

  Managing a nod, Hope spun into the women’s room. She could still hear Brock and the dog through the thin walls. “Hush,” Brock commanded, turning the dogs growls readily to whimpered whines. “That’s it.” He coaxed. Hope could hear the slight jangle of the dog’s collar. Brock must’ve been petting her. He was so good at everything there. She finally admitted that she was a little jealous. Taking things moment by moment as that was the only real way she could manage currently, she was pleased to discover that the medication Dr. Moore had given her had already eased the pain somewhat.

  By the time she returned to the hallway, Brock and the dog were playing tug-a-war with a toy the dog must’ve supplied. Giving the dog one more pat, Brock stood and brushed a kiss on Hope’s cheek. “We’ll get everything figured out. I swear to you. Let’s get you feeling better first.”

  “The sheriff’s deputy guy wrote me several tickets.” Her head fell. Life itself felt too heavy at the moment.

  “Yeah, he told me.” Brock drew her gently into his protective embrace. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll go talk to Max. Clarke has two corncobs permanently shoved up his ass sideways. I’ll always take care of you, sweetie.”

  His tender embrace, coupled with the soothing sound of his low, rumbling voice, had her melting against him. Another round of confusion welled inside of her. Everything worried her. Having a fever couldn’t be good for the baby. Her fall the day before might’ve hurt it as well. She drank a lot of coffee. Was that okay? Her job. Brock. The ranch. Her mind spun in too many directions. She couldn’t decide what to do first. She was completely overwhelmed with it all. She didn’t know how to have a baby or be a good mother. She didn’t know how to do anything.

  “Let’s get you home and into bed. We’ll talk, and I’ll get Aunt Jessie to make you some of her cure-all soup. Not sure how it works so well, but she made it for all us kids growing up. It always made me feel better.” He tightened her in his embrace for a moment, patted her backside, and then released her.

  Truthfully, the idea of laying around in bed eating soup and letting her husband tend to her was extremely appealing, but she didn’t want Jessie going to any trouble on her behalf.

  “I’ll be okay. That medicine is already helping. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

  Brock took her hand. “It’s been a rough few weeks, sugar. I should have done a thousand things I didn’t do. Let’s go home and talk.” He guided her back into the waiting room and nodded to a few people he obviously knew. Consumed with her own frustrations and confusion, Hope distractedly wondered what had brought so many people in to the doctor’s office that day. It appeared some kind of cold was going around.

  She watched Brock pay Mindy for her visit before he guided her out to the parking lot.

  “I know it’s a little earlier than we thought it would be, sweetie, but I’m excited.” Desperation laced his voice, and deep concern darkened his eyes as he halted in the parking lot to study her.

  “I’m excited, too ... I think. I’m just really, really scared. I need some things to change, Brock. A lot of things.”

  “I know. I swear I heard everything you said in there. I think I understand where all of that came from, except maybe the parts about censorship and the poodles. You can explain that later. Just please, let me help you figure out what we want to do. I’ll do anything you want. You’re all that matters to me. We’ll talk all afternoon. I promise.”

  “Okay.” Hope tried to draw in several deep breaths, but the icy air stung her lungs and made her cringe. Without much thought, she pulled the keys out of her purse and headed towards the truck, anxious to get out of the wind.

  “Hope, baby, I’m not supposed to let you drive until I go show our insurance cards to Clarke. Come on, let me take care of you. Let me drive you home. I’ll get Grant and Austin to come back and get his truck later.”

  “Brock, that’s ridiculous. I keep telling you I am perfectly capable of driving myself places.”

  “You are perfectly capable, Hope. I’m sorry. I should have taught you to drive in this when I got you up here. Add that to the list of things I screwed up, but I can’t let you drive or they’ll impound my truck and you could get arrested. I wouldn’t put it past Clarke. He gets giddy when he gets to cuff someone. It’s kind of sick.”

  Brock lifted his truck keys from her right hand. She didn’t have any fight left in her. She was pregnant, but not allowed to drive. How had something like that happened?

  She remained unable to locate her voice as he drove them slowly back to the CVS that for some unfathomable reason everyone still called Wilton’s drugs. The Wilton family had sold to CVS years before, according to Jessie. Hope’s mind spun again full of the oddities of the tiny town.

  “I love you, sugar. Please talk to me.”

  “I love you, too. I just need to think for a little while.” She didn’t really know what to say. He loved the ranch. He was bo
rn to be a cowboy. The way he handled the animals and the endless work spoke volumes. He never got rattled by it all. He genuinely loved it every part of it.

  “Okay, just tell me when you’re ready to talk. I’m right here.”

  Putting the truck into park in the CVS parking lot, Brock was out and standing at her door the next second. He offered her his hand.

  “Do you promise to teach me to drive here?”

  “That’s not going to be necessary if we move back, is it?”

  The utter defeat in his tone ate at her. He’d given up everything when he was a kid because his father had lost part of the ranch. Now, because she was giving up, she was going to take it all away again. No. She wouldn’t. Somewhere from deep within her soul her determination made a reappearance. “We’re not moving. I need you to help me learn how to live here, but we’re not moving.”

  Shock replaced the dejection that had previously darkened his eyes. “I’ll do anything you want, Hope, but know that I really do love driving you to work and taking you places. I love being with you. Sometimes I feel like while we’re in the car is the only time we really talk anymore. Not to be a complete pussy, but it’s the only time I get to see you smile lately.”

  She knew that was true. She hadn’t even been making an attempt at being happy, not really. She’d just compared their life before to the one they were currently living. When it came up short in her mind, she blamed the town or Brock. They both had some things that had to change. “Well, I still have to know how to get around here.”

  Her pride was bruised over the tickets, everything that had happened the day before, and she was still in complete shock after finding out she was pregnant just four months after getting married. She did love being in the truck with Brock with no one else hanging around, but she had to try harder to make Pleasant Glen their home.

  Chapter Ten

  Before they could make their way to the back counter to have the prescriptions filled, an elderly woman halted Brock in the liniment and muscle pain reliever aisle. It was no surprise that the Pleasant Glen CVS had trouble keeping that in stock. Cowboys and cowgirls worked hard, and their muscles were often sore.