“Take it all. I’m so happy for you, Maddie. Are you feeling all right?”
“I puked three times a day the first couple months. First thing in the morning, lunchtime, and dinnertime. I get tired quicker, but the doctor says that’s how it goes. And the puking should let up altogether pretty soon—I hope to God. I guess it has, a little. Just now I was queasy, but I didn’t barf, so that’s something.”
“Thad must be doing backflips over the moon.”
“He is.”
“How far along are you?”
“Twelve weeks come Saturday.”
Bo opened her mouth, closed it again, then took the water back for another gulp. “Twelve.”
After sighing out a breath, Maddie bit her bottom lip. “I almost told you straight off, but everything says how you should wait to get through the first three months, the first trimester. We haven’t told anybody but our parents—you just have to tell them—and even then we waited until I had four weeks in.”
“You sure don’t look pregnant.”
“I’m gonna. And truth is, my jeans are so tight in the waist already, I’ve got them hooked up with a carabiner.”
“You do not!”
“I do.” To prove it, Maddie lifted up her shirt, showed Bo the little silver clip. “And look at this.”
Maddie lifted her cap, bending her head to show a good inch of brown roots bisecting the blond. “They don’t want you dyeing your hair. I’m not going to take off my hat until this baby comes, I swear. I haven’t seen my natural-born color since I was thirteen and you helped me color it with that box of Nice’n Easy.”
“And we used some to put a blond streak in my hair that ended up looking like a slice of neon pumpkin.”
“I thought it looked so cool. I’m a blonde in my heart, Bo, but I’m going to be a pregnant brunette. A fat, waddling-around, peeing-every-five-minutes brunette.”
On a laugh, Bodine passed the water back. As she drank, Maddie stroked a hand over her as-yet-invisible baby bump. “I feel different, I really do, and it’s a kind of wonder. Bodine, I’m going to be a mother.”
“You’re going to be a terrific mother.”
“I’ve got my mind set on that. But, well, there’s another thing I’m not supposed to be doing.”
“Riding.”
With a nod, Maddie drank again. “I’ve been dragging my feet there, I know. Jeez, I’ve been riding since I was a baby myself, but the doctor’s firm on it.”
“So am I. You went out on the trail today, Maddie.”
“I know it. I should’ve told Abe, but I thought I should tell you first. Then he’s talking about how I can take over for him while he’s gone this winter. I didn’t want to say because he really wants this trip, and I could just see him putting it aside.”
“He won’t put it aside, and you won’t be in the saddle until you get the all clear from your doctor. That’s it.”
Biting her lip again—a sure sign of anxiety, Maddie twisted and untwisted the cap on the water bottle. “There’s the lessons, too.”
“We’ll cover them.” She’d figure it out, Bodine thought. That’s what she did. “There’s more to the horses than riding, Maddie.”
“I know it. I already do some of the paperwork. I can groom and feed and drive the horse trailer, drive the guests to the Equestrian Center. I can—”
“What you can do is get me a list, from your doctor, of the dos and the don’ts. What’s on the do side, you do—what’s on the don’t side, you don’t.”
“The thing is, the doctor’s awful cautious, and—”
“So am I,” Bodine interrupted. “I get the list and you stick to it, or I let you go.”
Slumping back, Maddie sulked. “Thad said you’d say just that.”
“You didn’t marry an idiot. And he loves you. So do I. Now, you’re going home for the rest of the day.”
“Oh, I don’t need to go home.”
“You’re going home,” Bo repeated. “Taking a nap. After the nap, you’re calling your baby doctor, telling him—”
“It’s a her.”
“Whatever. You tell her to make up that list and send it to you, to copy me. Then we’ll go from there. Worst thing, Maddie, you switch a saddle for a desk chair for a few months.” Bodine smiled. “You’re going to get fat.”
“I’m kind of looking forward to it.”
“Good, because it’s gonna happen. Now go home.” Bodine stood, leaned over to give Maddie a hard hug. “And congratulations.”
“Thanks. Thanks, Bo. I’m going to tell Abe before I leave. Tell him you’ve got it all covered, all right?”
“Do that.”
“In fact, I’m telling everybody. I’ve been dying to since I peed on the stick. Hey, Matt!” Rising, Maddie patted her belly. “I’m pregnant!”
“Holy shit!”
Bodine had time to see him boost himself right over the counter and run over to lift Maddie off her feet.
Parents got told about babies first, Bodine thought as she went back outside. But there was a lot of family around here.
CHAPTER TWO
As she rode, Bodine worked out what had to be done, what could be done, and what made the most sense to do. Losing two of her key horse people, one until spring, one for a solid eight months, created a puzzle. She had the pieces; she just needed to find the best way to fit them into the whole.
Snow trickled, thin and scant for now, a harbinger of what would come. She liked the smell of it, the way a hawk glided through it overhead, and a fat rabbit hopped up, vanished, hopped up, as it raced across a wide, white field.
She nudged Three Socks into a quick, bright trot then, reading him, let him stretch it into a lovely, rolling lope. She spotted one of the maintenance trucks rumbling down the road from the High Timber Cabins, and gave herself and her mount the pleasure of taking the longer route around, where the world opened up to the view of white mountains rising up into a soft and pale gray sky.
For a while, she let her mind empty. She’d solve the puzzle, fix the problem, do what had to be done.
She rode past the white tents of Zen Town, up the rise by the snuggled cabins they called Mountain View Estates, and wound around again to the road toward her grannies’ house.
It sat back from the road, leaving room for the gardening they both enjoyed, a white dollhouse with fancy blue trim, big windows to let in the views, and generous porches, front and back, for just sitting.
She rode the gelding around the back to the grannies’ little barn, dismounted. After giving him an appreciative rub, she tethered him.
She walked through the thin snow to the back porch, where she industriously wiped her boots on the mat.
The scent of something wonderful simmering on the stove caught her the minute she stepped inside. As she unbuttoned her coat, she walked to the pot to sniff.
Chicken and leeks, she mused, inhaling. What her grammy called Cock-a-Leekie.
She glanced around. The eat-in kitchen opened to a sitting area with a cushy couch, a few easy chairs, and a huge flat-screen.