ONCE IN A BLUE MOON (BLUEBONNET, TEXAS Book 2) (32 page)

"Thanks." I yanked open my office door and hollered, "Deni!"

She stuck her head out of the room next to mine. "You look pitiful, Boss Mama. I told you not to get married," she teased.

"You gonna cut my hair or just stand there giving me grief?" 

We headed for the shampoo bowls and she washed me, cut me and dried me.

"You wanna talk about it?" She yanked the smock off.

"In-law’s are for the birds," I quipped, standing.

"You need anything, just let me know—I know people."

I hugged her and headed to my room to get ready for my first appointment while thinking I really needed to start doing background checks on lessees. Physically I felt increasingly yucky...and crampy, and a quick trip to the bathroom revealed I was spotting.

I sprawled on the couch, hollering over the intercom for Tara to cancel my appointments. She answered in the affirmative but came to investigate. "Are you okay, boss?"

"I’m a little sick to my stomach. I think I might have pulled a muscle when I puked yesterday." My excuse sounded lame even to me.

"I’m getting Cassi," she said, heading for the door.

"Fine," I mumbled not caring. And suddenly downright scared. I was clammy and my morning’s nausea hadn’t let up.

"What’s this about you not feeling well?" Cassi asked, as she leaned over me a few minutes later, her hand on my forehead.

"Cramps. Growing pains," I quipped, weakly. I’d had them before. My prenatal book had assured me they were just my uterus stretching. But after yesterday...

From the stern look in her eye she didn’t buy it. "You don’t look good, girl. I think we should get you checked out."

"I don’t think Marilyn’s open today," I mumbled, curling into a ball and breathing through my nose.

"I’ll be right back," Cassi mumbled.

"I don’t feel too good, Tara," I whispered, looking up at her. I knew the concern in her eyes was mirrored in my own.

"I’m going to see what’s keeping Cassi," she whispered, wide-eyed.

They returned a few minutes later. "I got the Tahoe at the back door," Cassi said. "We’re going to St. Elizabeth’s."

They loaded me up and off we went, the reality of what could be wrong hanging heavy between us on the short, quiet trip. At the door of the Emergency Room, Tara got a wheelchair and loaded me in it, whizzing me toward the check in desk.

"She’s got cramps," Tara blurted out as she came to a screeching halt. Luckily, I was hanging on.

The triage nurse, who looked like an ER war veteran, quirked one gray brow, as if to say ‘you’re kidding.’

"I’m pregnant," I whispered. That made her move. In no time at all, we were in a room—I insisted the girls stay. Cassi gave another nurse all my information while the triage nurse paged someone down from obstetrics.

"Are you bleeding?" she asked, turning to me.

"Spotting some," I confessed, blinking against my tears. I felt as if, once more, I was being punished for reaching too high.

"When did it start and have you soaked a pad?" the nurse asked.

"Today. Late this morning and no, I haven’t soaked a pad."

"Who’s your obstetrician?"

"I have a midwife. Marilyn—"

"—Carstairs. She’ll want to know," the nurse finished, nodding. "You’ve called your husband?"

"I did!" Tara piped in, her voice as shaky as mine. "Before we left. Cassi told me to."

I owed them both—bigtime. I didn’t want him finding out after the fact if something happened to our baby.

In the middle of an endless stream of questions, the doctor, a middle-aged woman with curly reddish-brown hair and a stethoscope slung ‘round her neck, came in. She introduced herself as Dr. McAfee.

"Your friends will need to leave now. I’m going to do a pelvic and I want an IV started," she shot orders to the nurses standing by.

Yuck and double yuck!
My queasy stomach knotted up even tighter. I nodded at Cassi and Tara and they slipped through the curtain.

"How long have you been having cramps?" she asked while palpitating my stomach. I winced at the discomfort and pressure.

"All morning. But I didn’t think—am I gonna lose my baby?" I asked, voice shaking. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath.

She ignored my question, placing the stethoscope on my belly instead. "Let’s take a listen, shall we?" Her bland facial expressions gave absolutely nothing away.

She tucked her stethoscope away and pulled out the stirrups. Her and the nurse remained silent all during the uncomfortable exam. Afterward, she snapped off the gloves with a pop. Dr. McAfee helped me get comfortable and adjusted my clothing, then sat on the edge of the bed.

"We’re trying to reach Marilyn, and we’re going to do a sonogram and draw some blood. Have you been under a lot of stress lately? Taken a fall? Anything?"

I lay there with hot tears falling, and explained about my recent marriage and the Holiday From Hell.

"At this point nothing is one hundred percent." Dr. McAfee patted my hand, her brown eyes solemn. "They’re bringing down a portable machine right now and someone will be here soon to take your blood. I’ll be back in a few minutes."

How the hell was I going to explain to Ty that I’d lost our baby? I lay there, silently fighting nausea, and dread and shaking with nerves. Until the doctor returned, Ty on her heels.

"What happened?" Still dressed in his work clothes, he was wide-eyed and frantic as he came to stand beside me.

Unable to speak, I could only shake my head. Dr. McAfee introduced herself and shook Ty’s hand. "We’re still running tests. We’ll know something more definite after a sonogram."

Ty nodded and swallowed, his freckles standing out. Was he mad? And what happened to us if I lost the baby? I refused to even consider any of it and shoved it from my mind.

From the cubicle’s entrance Tim blew me a kiss, then stood aside so the nurses could roll the sonogram machine in.

Once we were under way, I held my breath, unable to speak or look at anyone, but when I heard the baby’s heartbeat, I felt as if someone had jumpstarted my own heart.

Above me Ty whispered, "What’s that sound? That’s the baby’s heartbeat, right?"

Dr. McAfee gave me her first genuine smile. "You got it, Dad."

"So that’s good?"

"That’s very good," the nurse murmured.

"Wow." He chuckled and shook his head.

"Alright. We have a heartbeat." She quietly continued the sonogram and I counted off the minutes until she continued with her verdict. "The placenta hasn’t detached, you aren’t dilating, and your initial HCG levels are within a low but normal range. You’ve had an extremely stressful week or two, young lady. So here’s what we’ll do. You’re going home and putting your feet up for the next seventy-two hours."

I opened my mouth, but she beat me to the punch. "It’s better to be safe than sorry, and by then the last of your blood work should be back. We’ll send it over to Dr. Tomb’s office for Marilyn to look at. I’m a little concerned over the small size of your uterus for eighteen weeks. You need to call on Monday and set up an appointment for another sonogram about mid-week. In the mean time, if the bleeding or cramps get worse, heavier, if you start passing clots, you bring her in, Daddy," she finished with a nod at Ty. "She’s to drink lots of fluids and lift nothing heavier than a spoon. No exertion, no sex, no laundry, no cooking. No stress.
Nothing!"

"Absolutely. I’ll take good care of her."

"We’ll get her paperwork ready." The nurses disappeared in a flurry of activity, Dr. McAfee right behind them.

Hey what about me? I’m still here.

The stiff mattress shifted under me as he sat, and we silently waited. Around us, I could hear the hum of a not-very-busy hospital emergency room—pages over the intercom, whispers. In a nearby cubicle a child cried and on the other side of me a woman babbled in Spanish. But I couldn’t think of a thing to say to Ty.

He leaned over me, his body heavy on mine, and reached for my hand. "Bee."

"Hmm." I couldn’t look at him. I just felt guilty and all I could think about was what had I done to cause this, so I stared at the wall instead.

"I meant what I said last night, I’ll take good care of you. You won’t have to worry about a thing."

 "Ahem." Ty sat up and we both turned toward the cubicle’s entrance. Maggie’s presence surprised me. "Is everything okay? Do we know anything?"

"She’s on complete bed rest for at least three days." Ty gently squeezed my side.

"Oh, Bettina. I’m so glad you’re okay. Especially after yesterday. You know we’ll do whatever you need to help."

"Thank you, ma’am." I struggled to sit up, also surprised at the genuine concern in her face. "Cassi!"

She pulled the curtain aside and stepped around Maggie. "What did they say? What’s up?"

"Bedrest—three days. We’re waiting on paperwork." Scooching off the side of the bed, I smothered a wave of nausea and slipped my shoes on. "I’ll need Tara to bring me the bills and mail from the salon for the next few days and...Tara?"

"Is everything okay? Are you done?" she asked, appearing on Cassi’s other side.

"I need you to reschedule my appointments for the next couple of days." I didn’t miss Maggie’s surprised frown.

"How do you know that’ll be long enough?" Ty asked.

"I don’t, but we’ll start there." How the hell was I going to run a business in bed? How the hell could I take care of myself tied to a bed? Who would...The doctor returned, cutting off my roller coaster thoughts. I signed off and listened to her instructions again. Bedrest, complete bedrest. No stress, fresh food.

As if the fact I might lose my baby would help me relax?

* * *

I climbed out of the truck, then made myself wait for him. The sun had almost set and a cold wind drifted across my shoulders. I shivered, exhausted physically and mentally. This morning seemed liked a century ago. "Don’t you have to play tonight?"

"Zack said they’d take care of everything." He took my arm and we made the short walk to the porch in silence. Inside, Ty gave me a gentle nudge but I didn’t move. "Come on. Let’s get you settled."

My brain suddenly kicked into overdrive. The thought that had nagged at me all day finally presented itself front and center. "I won’t sleep in that bed! It’s
her
bed."

"There’s a—" he let loose a long, shaky sigh "—a queen in the spare bedroom."

With a nod, I trudged across the living room, the hateful white Berber abrading my feet. Two doors down and across the hall from the master. Plain and white.

Fugly.

Enough was enough. I grabbed my cellphone from my purse even as I yanked the hateful white comforter off the bed, viscously tossing it across the room. Another wave of nausea hit me as Cassi answered. "Do me a favor and go to my house... Get my pillows and quilts off my bed and some sheets from the linen closet...Thanks...And call Angi, please. Make her help you." I disconnected with a satisfied click only to jump at the sound of Ty’s voice behind me.

"I brought you this." He stood at the doorway, holding a nightgown. The plain white cotton one so old it was paper thin, but it was my favorite.

I snatched it out of the air as he tossed it to me. "Thank you. And Ty—" I swallowed hard, nearly choking on my saliva.

He came and sat beside me on the bed, one hand resting lightly on my back. "Hmm?"

"I’m...sorry. I just
can’t
sleep in there." I ended up with my head on his lap crying my eyes out. How did everything get so bad?

Once my little storm blew out, Ty got me changed and tucked me in with one last kiss.

"I understand completely." He spun around and made a hasty exit, closing the door behind him.

Great! I’d hurt him again. With a sigh, I closed my eyes and floated away on a cloud of fatigue only to awaken with a start at the girls carting my stuff in a while later.

"We got everything you asked for," Cassi added, setting a trash bag in the corner. "Want us to unpack?"

"That’s fine. I can do it tomorrow."

"You’re on bedrest, Boss." Tara’s pink hair fairly bristled. Her authoritative side was a sight to behold.

Maybe she would make a decent lawyer. I smiled and sat up, rubbing my eyes. Before I could form some sort of reply Cassi asked, "Why are you in here?"

"I’ll be damned if I’m sleeping in that bitch’s bed ever again." I clamped my lips shut as Tim came carting in my TV.

Tara and Cassi scrambled to clear off the dresser.

"I didn’t realize you’d gone with them." I watched him deposit his heavy load. "Thanks."

"Cassi called me." He gave me an unusually gentle smile, then disappeared through the door, Cassi on his heels.

Tara lingered after them. "For what it’s worth, boss, I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want to sleep in another woman’s bed either. That’s just...wrong." She wrinkled her nose and shuddered in sympathy.

"Thanks, Tara. I suppose I should see what damage they’re doing out there."

I stood and crossed the room but Cassi blocked my way, her best "mom" face in place. ""You’re on bed rest. Do you understand what nearly happened today?" she hissed. "And how serious it all is? And that you’re acting like a brat?"

"Refusing to sleep in the bed my husband shared with his ex-wife is not being a brat!"

"No, it’s not," came a voice from the hallway.

"Mrs. Boudreaux." I hadn’t even known she was in the house. My God, I’d been invaded.

"It’s Maggie, remember?" She nodded. "I brought you some turkey and rice soup. Come curl up in that big comfy chair while the girls and I finish up your room. Where’d you get that anyway? I want one."

"Yes, ma’am." I slipped a robe on over my nightgown and obediently followed. "A little place out in New Braunfels custom makes them."

"This place just looks better and better all the time."

I muttered my thanks, glad I wasn’t the only one who’d hated Rhea’s house.

"Go on and get settled. Angi’s warming up your soup."

I curled up in the chair, feeling much more mellow after my nap.

Cassi appeared from around the corner, a swatch of brightly colored knitted material folded over her arms. "I found your other afghan."