“Jimmy Bob,” Lilly implored in a tone that was midway between firm and coaxing.
“Can I ride the mule first?”
“We’re not riding Big Ben today. The farrier has to put new shoes on him.”
“When we do get to ride the mule, can I be first?”
“Oh, puleeze!” Miranda banged her head repeatedly against the padded rest behind her. “Quit being such a damn baby.”
“Miranda. You’re not helping.” Lilly aimed a warning finger at her.
Miranda slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her groan.
Lilly cautioned herself to remain calm. Though her patience was often tested by the people in her care, she hardly ever lost it. Had her son lived, she would’ve made a good mother.
Her throat closed abruptly and tears stung her eyes. Lilly didn’t know why. It had taken a while, but in the two and a half years since Evan’s death, she’d finally stopped crying at every reminder of him.
“What’s wrong, Miss Russo?” Jimmy Bob didn’t miss a thing.
“Nothing.”
He grabbed his seat belt and buckled it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad at me.”
“I’m not mad.” She smiled at him, still fighting her unexpected weepiness. What had come over her today and why?
She wondered if seeing Jake so often lately and the memories stirred by those encounters had anything to do with her fragile mood. Lilly had come to care deeply for him during the six weeks they’d dated, which was why she’d pressured him for a greater commitment, ultimately triggering their breakup. And as much as she’d wished things could be different, she was afraid her feelings for him were as strong as ever.
Visiting the ranch two or three times a week wasn’t going to be easy and made her wish that her boss was around more to share the responsibility.
Georgina started the van and pulled back onto the road.
“It’s about freakin’ time,” Miranda exclaimed, flinging her arms every which way.
Lilly didn’t react to the outburst, which was done solely to attract attention. She spent the rest of the drive preoccupied with her own thoughts. Maybe Jake wouldn’t be there. He’d informed her that his manager, Gary Forrester, would oversee their visits and the chores they performed.
She’d just about convinced herself that the likelihood of running into Jake was nil when the stables came into sight—and so did his familiar pickup truck.
Lilly’s heart involuntarily raced. With anticipation, not dread.
Georgina parked next to Jake’s truck. Jimmy Bob was first out the door. No surprise there. Lilly went around to the side of the van and, along with Georgina and the student volunteer, helped the remaining five clients out.
“Stay together.”
She’d gone over the rules with each of them repeatedly. Nonetheless, she anticipated disobedience. Jimmy Bob didn’t disappoint her.
“Look! There’s the mule.”
“Jimmy Bob, come back!
Big Ben was tied to the same hitching post as the previous day. Tail swishing, he stood calmly, demonstrating what Lilly hoped was a personality ideally suited to her clients. He didn’t so much as blink when Jimmy Bob came charging at him.
“Hey! Don’t ever run up to an animal like that. You’ll get yourself kicked.”
The reprimand came from a teenage, female version of Jake. His oldest daughter, Briana. Lilly recognized her from the Labor Day cookout at the ranch. The girl cut in front of Jimmy Bob before he reached the mule. The young man came to a grinding, almost comical, halt.
“Just because an animal looks calm,” Briana scolded Jimmy Bob with an authority beyond her years, “doesn’t mean he is. Be careful.”
He gazed down at her, slack-jawed.
“Did you hear me?”
“You’re pretty.”
She shook her head and huffed in exasperation. “Come on,” she said after a moment. “I’ll introduce you to Big Ben.”
Jimmy Bob followed like a devoted puppy.
Lilly considered intervening, then decided against it. Jake’s daughter seemed capable of handling herself, and while Jimmy Bob might be stubborn sometimes, he was trustworthy and didn’t have a mean bone in his body.
“Are you ready, Mr. Deitrich?” Lilly shoved the sliding van door closed after the elderly man had climbed out.
“Where are we?” He gazed around in obvious confusion.
“Bear Creek Ranch. Remember? We’re here to visit our mule, Big Ben.”
“There are no mules at Gold Canyon,” he scoffed. “Everyone knows the old man won’t have the sorry beasts. Claims they scare the cows.”
“We’re not at Gold Canyon Ranch.” She grasped his arm securely and guided him toward the mule, where the rest of their group had gathered to gape in awe. At a respectable distance, thanks to Briana. “We’re at Bear Creek Ranch.”
Mr. Deitrich had Alzheimer’s disease. It began when he was in his early sixties and, sadly, progressed rapidly. During his youth, he’d worked on a cattle ranch in Wyoming. His wife hoped the familiar setting of stables and horses would stimulate him mentally and possibly improve his condition.
Lilly didn’t know if it would work, but was more than willing to try. As the only adult day care center of its kind in town and with a wide variety of client needs, Dave and the staff were open to any new ideas and approaches. It was one of the reasons Lilly had fought so hard for Big Ben.
“Does anyone know the difference between a horse, a donkey and a mule?” Briana stood with a hand on Big Ben’s neck, conducting class. “No? Well, a mule has a donkey father and a horse mother.”
“She’s always liked being in the spotlight.”
Lilly whirled around to find Jake standing behind her and sputtered a startled, “Hi.”
“I hope you don’t mind Briana helping. She’s off school today for some reason.”
“Not at all.” Lilly tried to focus on the teenager and not her father, who, like Lilly, stood to the side.
Briana was so much like Jake, in looks and mannerisms and personality. She even pursed her lips in concentration the same way he did before answering the many questions her audience threw at her. Clearly she was knowledgeable about horses and happy to share that knowledge with others. Jake must have been very proud of his oldest. Lilly certainly would be if Briana were her daughter.
Suddenly a lump formed in the back of Lilly’s throat and tears pricked her eyes. She blinked to counter the effect. What in the world was wrong with her today? Feeling vulnerable and not understanding why, Lilly hugged herself hard—only to let go with a small gasp that Jake fortunately didn’t hear.
Her breasts hurt. A lot.
How strange was that? She’d noticed a tenderness this morning when she’d put on her bra but forgot about it in the next instant. Casting a sideways glance at Jake, she hugged herself again. Her breasts were definitely sore.
She must be having a raging case of PMS, she decided. That would explain her weepiness and the mild off-and-on stomach upset she’d been experiencing. Or maybe her birth control prescription needed adjusting. She hadn’t responded well initially to the pill she was on and required several dosage modifications. What other explanation could there be?
Unless she was pregnant…
“Here comes the farrier,” Jake said, nodding at an old pickup truck rumbling down the road.
Lilly composed herself and muttered, “Great.” Swallowing did nothing to relieve the dryness in her mouth.
She couldn’t be pregnant. It simply wasn’t possible. She was on the pill and Jake had used condoms. Well, except for that one time when they’d gotten carried away in the hot tub at his house. But it shouldn’t matter; the pill was nearly one-hundred-percent effective if taken every day, which she did without exception.
There had to be another explanation. Besides, she’d had her period a couple of weeks ago. Granted, it was a few days late and lighter than normal, but still a period. She’d even endured her usual cram
ping the day or two before.
“Who’s ready for a tour of the stables?” Briana’s question was met with great enthusiasm from everyone, especially Jimmy Bob, who was glued to her side. “Okay then, stay together. No wandering off. And no talking to the guests.”
Lilly knew she should go with the group but her feet refused to obey her brain’s command. When Jake tapped her on the shoulder, she practically jumped out of her skin.
“I’m going to talk to the farrier. Be back in a few minutes.”
“Sure.” She smiled weakly.
Watching Jake stride off, she decided that if she didn’t feel better by tomorrow, she’d call her doctor and make an appointment. Another change in dosage, another switch to a different brand of pill and she’d be back to her old self.
She continued to delude herself for the rest of the morning and several days after that until it became impossible.
“HOW COULD THIS have happened?”
“The pill isn’t infallible. And you only began taking it shortly before becoming intimate.”
“He used a condom.” Most of the time.
“They break. Leak. Come off.”
“You’ve seen my records, you know my history. Before Evan, I had two stillbirths. One at five and a half months, the other at seven.” Lilly’s voice rose in pitch with each sentence she uttered.
Her doctor’s voice, on the other hand, remained calm. “One thing you have to remember, Lilly, is this baby has a different father. The trisomy disorder that affected your previous children may have been a fluke combination of your DNA with your ex-husband’s.”
Lilly lifted her head, which had been propped in her hand, to meet Dr. Thea Paul’s intense yet compassionate gaze. She liked the ob/gyn, who was a plain old small-town doctor and not a specialist in some obscure field of medicine Lilly didn’t understand. She’d certainly had her fill of those back in Phoenix.
“I’m the carrier.” She sniffed and wiped her damp cheeks. The emotions she’d been attempting to hold at bay over-whelmed her, and she blubbered, “That’s what the other doctors told us.”
Her fault the babies died. Her corrupt DNA.
It was why she’d vowed never to get pregnant again, why she was so diligent about birth control—at least, she’d meant to be diligent.
Dr. Paul got up from her chair, came around her desk and sat in the chair adjacent to Lilly’s. She took Lilly’s hand in hers. “Science and medicine aren’t exact. I’m sure the other doctors explained your odds of having a healthy baby.”
“Fifty-fifty. But that’s not how it turned out.” The chromosomal abnormality Lilly had passed on to her babies occurred only in males.
“Nature isn’t exact, either,” Dr. Paul said.
“I had my period.” Lilly still resisted.
“Spotting, even heavy spotting, in the first trimester is common and can be confused with menstrual flow.”
She wasn’t reassured. Spotting and cramps had plagued her other three pregnancies. Accepting the tissue Dr. Paul offered, she blew her nose.
“This is all so…unexpected and…upsetting.” She sobbed quietly. “God, you must think I’m a terrible person. All your other patients are probably thrilled to learn they’re pregnant.”
“Of course I don’t think you’re terrible,” Dr. Paul said soothingly. “You’ve been through a lot and have every reason to worry about the health of your baby. There are several tests you can have that will determine—”
“No tests. They’re too risky.”
“Some are, that’s true, but they can help you make an informed decision.”
Lilly had heard of two patients at the hospital where she’d worked who’d miscarried after having amniocentesis. “There’s only one decision to make. I’m having the baby.”
Lilly’s personal beliefs wouldn’t allow her to terminate her pregnancy. It had been a contentious issue between her and Brad and a contributing factor to their divorce. When she became pregnant a second time, he’d insisted she undergo every available test.
She did as he’d asked. The results had revealed that the baby, also a boy, suffered from the same genetic disorder as his brother. After much pressure, Lilly succumbed to her husband’s wishes and went so far as to schedule the termination but changed her mind at the last minute, to her husband’s fury. For two long, agonizing months she carried the baby, knowing his chances of survival were slim to none but praying for a miracle.
The stillbirth broke her heart and nearly shattered her spirit.
With Evan, she’d stood her ground and refused all testing. What was the point when an abortion was out of the question? Fear and anxiety were her constant companion during that third pregnancy but so was hope for a girl and a different outcome. She wouldn’t trade that feeling for the world, then and now.
“Your decision, of course.” Dr. Paul squeezed Lilly’s fingers. “And you can always change your mind later on.”
“I won’t.”
Dr. Paul reached for Lilly’s paperwork and made some notations. “You feel strongly now, which is understandable. That may change, however, when you talk to the baby’s father.”
Jake!
Lilly had been so busy the last few days denying the possibility of pregnancy, she hadn’t considered what to tell him. Admitting her condition would be bad enough, especially when she’d assured him she’d been using birth control. Admitting the fact that their baby could be born deformed—if she even carried to term—was unimaginable. And grossly unfair to Jake. She knew firsthand the difficulties and potential agony facing them. He didn’t. Worse, she was taking away his choice in the matter by choosing to have the baby regardless of his feelings.
“I can’t tell him.” She swallowed another sob. “Not yet.”
“I’m your physician,” Dr. Paul said. “It’s not my place to advise you on personal matters. But as the father, he does have a right to know about the baby.”
For one wild second, Lilly contemplated hiding her pregnancy from Jake. Then she remembered her agreement to accompany the center’s clients on their visits to Bear Creek Ranch. He was no stranger to pregnant women and no dummy. He’d eventually figure out her condition and realize he was the father.
“I need some time before I make any announcements.” There was so much to consider. Her job. Her family. The expenses not covered by her health insurance. Astronomical medical bills had also contributed greatly to her marital problems with her ex-husband.
And then there was Jake.
Lilly started to rise. Her unsteady legs refused to support her, and she immediately dropped back into the chair.
“That’s a good idea. And do think about the tests. I would be remiss in my duties if I didn’t advise you to have them.” Dr. Paul handed Lilly several sheets of paper. “Take these to the front desk. The nurse will call in your prescription for prenatal vitamins.”
“Thank you.” Lilly tried again to stand and managed it this time.
“Since you’re a high-risk pregnancy, I’d like to see you every two weeks if your schedule allows it.”
Lilly nodded and stumbled out of Dr. Paul’s office. She paid her bill, scheduled her next appointment and gave the nurse the name and phone number of her pharmacy, all in a daze. The ground blurred on her walk across the parking lot to her car. She was barely aware of the return drive to the center and was surprised to find herself parked in her reserved space.
Sitting behind the steering wheel, she waited before leaving the car. Carefully, as if the slightest touch might harm the life growing inside her, she rested a hand on her abdomen.
Another baby. The last thing in the world she wanted, and, at the same time, the one thing she wanted with a longing that bordered on desperation.
A tiny seed of hope took root inside her. Was Dr. Paul right? Would this baby be born normal because the father was someone different? The tiny seed anchored itself more securely and began to blossom, filling Lilly with something she hadn’t felt since her first pregnancy
.
Joy.
A smile curved the corners of her mouth. The sigh escaping her lips was one of contentment, not despair. With a sense of elation, she opened the door and stepped out of the car.
She’d done no more than place one foot on the asphalt when the first cramp hit. The second was so severe, Lilly doubled over. Her breath came in spurts.
“Oh, God,” she cried to herself. “Not again.” Then, in a whisper, she pleaded, “Please don’t take this baby from me, too.”
Chapter Four
Jake looked up just as the beam from a pair of headlights cut across his kitchen window. Ellen was dropping off the girls for their regular Wednesday-night dinner—late as usual. He didn’t have to worry that she’d come inside. His ex-wife avoided him if at all possible these days, for which he was grateful.
He’d no sooner taken dinner from the oven than the girls tumbled through the back door. In the next instant, their lively antics filled the room, and Jake’s loneliness vanished.
“Cheese pizza!” LeAnne shouted and ran immediately to the table, where Jake had set out paper plates and napkins.
“What? No hug?”
His youngest fled the chair she’d been ready to occupy and bounded into his arms. At seven, she was mostly arms and legs and long auburn hair that refused to stay out of her face. Briana and his middle daughter, Kayla, quickly followed suit.
Jake cherished his girls and had bent over backward to preserve his relationship with them during his divorce from their mother. At the time, it had rankled to give in to Ellen’s outrageous demands, especially since she’d cheated on him, not the other way around. Now he was relieved that Ellen was unable to engage him in her petty power plays.
“Who else besides LeAnne is hungry?” Jake reluctantly released his children.
“Me.” Kayla scrambled to beat her sisters to the table.
Jake cut the pizza into slices and served it. He wasn’t much of a cook, usually taking his meals with either employees or guests in the spacious dining hall. After the divorce, he’d learned to prepare simple meals for himself and his daughters. Kayla and Briana were both picky eaters—Kayla hated vegetables and Briana didn’t eat meat—which made the task a daunting one at times.
Waiting for Baby Page 4