Summer Nights (Fool's Gold #8)

Three hours later, she was wheeled back into her room. A pretty nurse bustled in to check her vitals and offer her a sandwich to tide her over until dinner.

“We’ve been flooded with calls,” the nurse added with a smile. “Word got out about your accident and the whole town wants to know if you’re okay.”

Annabelle couldn’t imagine ever feeling hungry or tired or sad again. Not when the news had been so good. The baby was fine. She had, in Dr. Galloway’s terms, fallen exactly right to protect a growing fetus. Her bones and organs had cushioned the growing life inside of her, which meant she would be sore for a few days but the child would be unaffected.

She let the relief spread over her and knew she would always be grateful. “A sandwich would be great,” she said. “As to my friends, you can tell them everything is perfect. I’ll be home in the morning. And yes, that’s actual permission to give out the information. I know you have strict confidentiality guidelines.”

“We do and I appreciate the specific instructions. There are a few people outside in the waiting room. Is it okay to send them in?”

“Sure.”

Annabelle realized she probably looked awful, but that didn’t matter, either. Her baby had survived. Right now he or she was growing. In a few months she would be holding an infant in her arms. That was going to be her priority.

As the nurse left, Annabelle wondered if Shane had heard about the accident and if he was one of the people waiting. At the thought of him, her heart quickened. As soon as they were alone, she wanted to tell him about the baby.

She loved him and hoped for the best. Hoped he cared about her as well, that he loved her and wanted to be with her. But even if he didn’t, she would be fine. That’s what she’d decided while waiting for her ultrasound. That she would make it work in every way possible. She’d grown up knowing she wasn’t wanted by either parent. She would do everything in her power to make sure that never happened to her child. She was strong and had a good job. She lived in a wonderful place and had supportive friends. She would get through this and she and her child would thrive.

But everything would be so much better if Shane came along for the ride.

Heidi and May burst into her room.

“Are you all right?”

“What happened?”

“Are you broken?”

They were speaking over each other as they rushed toward her. Heidi ran around to the other side, then they hugged her together.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m going home in the morning. Nothing is broken. Just a few bruises.”

She didn’t tell them the best part, but as she spoke, she rested a protective hand on her stomach and sent all the love she had to the growing life inside of her.

* * *

“YOU ARE Shane Stryker?”

Shane nodded at the woman in the white coat. She’d found him pacing in the waiting room.

“I’m Dr. Galloway.”

The woman was in her late fifties, with steel-gray hair and glasses. Her eyes were kind and she didn’t look like she was delivering bad news.

“Is Annabelle okay? The construction guys saw what happened. Khatar reared. Ah, that’s a horse. I thought maybe he was trying to throw her, but there was a snake. He killed it. I think he was protecting her.”

“That’s what she said, too. Annabelle is well. Nothing broken. She hit her head, but even that seems to be minor. We’ll keep her overnight and release her in the morning.”

Shane released the breath he’d been holding. Relief rushed through him. “You’re sure.”

The doctor motioned to a sofa and chair in the corner. “Let’s sit,” she said.

He followed her and then sat. She angled toward him.

Dr. Galloway smiled at him. “The baby is fine. It’s so tiny and there’s so much cushioning. We did an ultrasound. All is well. I knew you’d want to know.”

She said something else. They both stood and shook hands. Shane might have spoken in return, but he couldn’t say for sure. It was as if his mind and his body had separated. He could see himself moving and talking, but it wasn’t him doing it. He was on the outside, watching.

Baby? Annabelle was pregnant?

The words echoed and repeated. They turned upside down, then righted themselves. They formed images. A baby. She was having a baby. His baby.

He thought of all the times they’d been together. How they’d used protection. Condoms, which worked most of the time, but not always. He thought of her dancing on the bar at Jo’s and how she laughed and the way Khatar would literally break down walls to be with her. He thought of how he felt when he was around her and knew that as much as he wanted not to be played, he didn’t have a choice.

* * *