“And you’re so certain I would be?” He heard the anger in his tone, even if she didn’t. “You really think there’s no way a woman like Cassie would go for me, don’t you?”
The accusation was too clear to miss. The shock on her face was clear, too, as she stood. “Why would you say such a thing?” Her mouth hung open.
He didn’t take the words back, even knowing they hadn’t been fair, that he’d hurt her. Maybe if Elaina hadn’t always been constantly trying to push him to make more of himself, he wouldn’t feel as though he wasn’t good enough.
She turned to go, leaving the mess of their not-quite-finished lunch sitting on the tray. At the door, she half turned, looking him right in the eye.
“For the record, if anything, I think she’s not good enough for you, Wood, and I’ve never even met her. I don’t know that you’ll find a woman that I think is deserving of you. I also know that you give everything you are to family who needs you, to your own detriment, to the point of not having a life of your own, including marrying me. It breaks my heart to think of you doing it again because a stranger chose to use a donation Peter talked you into giving. You’ve given up enough of your life for your brother.”
With tears in her eyes, she left the barn.
And he let her go.
* * *
Cassie spent Saturday evening in a private conference room, eating a catered dinner with the executive director of the charitable organization Safe!
By the time she got home that night, she still didn’t know what course the board of Safe! would take, but she knew that she’d done all she could to guide them toward a successful outcome. And that she’d follow through for them, no matter which of her options they chose.
And she hadn’t heard from Wood all day. While she never answered until night, he generally sent a text or two that would be waiting for her when she climbed into bed. Or lounged on the couch before bed.
A text or two that she knew were there...carried with her...and looked forward to reading.
She took her time getting out of her suit and into the nightshirt she slept in. Brushing her teeth. And her hair, too, though she didn’t normally do that before bed. She went to get a fresh bottle of water. Checked the doors again, though she knew they were locked. Stopped in her office to glance at the mail that had come. Mail she’d already gone through.
Eventually, she made it back to her room. Climbed under the covers, sitting up with pillows propped behind her. And picked up the phone she’d left plugged in on her nightstand. And felt her spirits drop as she saw that no text messages had come through.
She’d given him extra time. Why hadn’t he reached out?
Had something happened? How would she know if it had? It wasn’t like they were on each other’s in-case-of-emergency call lists.
> Maybe they should be. If something happened to her and they needed Wood’s blood to save Alan’s life, she had to set up a family trust...name him legally as...something. Her legal brain clicked in, and she tried to bring back everything she’d ever heard or read about estate law. It hadn’t been her area of interest.
She knew a couple of people she could call, though. But ten o’clock on a Saturday night wasn’t the time.
Should she text Wood just to make sure he was okay?
Shaking her head, she grabbed the remote. Clicked to turn on an old sitcom. And then switched to another old show, one that centered around cops and lawyers. Something she could get lost in...
The jolt came out of nowhere. Not sharp, but definitely strong. And completely unexpected. She’d been feeling little movements, kind of bubble-like, on and off for most of the week. She hadn’t been certain they were the baby. Had hoped.
But this... She waited, heart pounding, to see what would happen next. If the baby had just kicked, would he kick again?
Or was something wrong?
Did anemia lead to other things? Was her baby in distress? If the pregnancy were progressing normally, she might not have wondered, but...
That worrying week had taken a toll. Could something be wrong?
Picking up her phone, she searched the internet. Landed on a reputable hospital website. Spent forty-five minutes reading everything she could find about signs of miscarriage, fetal blood disorder symptoms and a side piece about preventing diaper rash. There’d been no other movement in her stomach, no cramping or even a hint of needing to use the restroom, though once she thought about it, she did kind of have to pee.
So she did. Checked for spotting. There was none. And climbed back into bed. Picked up her phone and typed, “What does it feel like when your baby kicks?”
Twenty minutes of reading later, she was smiling. Wishing the sensation would come again. With a hand on her growing belly, she said, “You just do whatever you have to do to make yourself comfortable, Mama’s baby Alan. Move around as much as you like. Four months and one week can seem like a long time. Oh...and if you wouldn’t mind...could you please kick a lot? Just so I know you’re okay in there?”
He’d kicked.
She’d felt her first real evidence that he was alive. Their first son-to-Mama communication.