“Miss Boone.” Winnie stressed the Miss with enthusiasm.
Ugh. Even better. Winnie. She was one of those people who lived to make others uncomfortable. And she was very good at it. She’d recently married—again—and this time Dr. Santos’s son had been the poor fool lined up in her sights. Since she was short on charm, her marriage was likely the reason she now manned Dr. Santos’s front desk. Maybe it was time to change doctors?
“Another Boone wedding in the mix.” Winnie’s smile was hard. “I’m on hold with Dr. Farriday’s office. She’s pretty full but she’s trying to squeeze you in. Pre-natal care is super important. For you and the baby.”
Renata winced at the last sentence. Not from the words so much as the sudden increase in volume. Almost a yell. Near enough. “I can call her later,” she offered, eager to leave—so she could fall apart in the privacy of her truck.
Winnie shook her head. “Oh no, Dr. Santos wanted me to make this appointment for you. Sai
d it was essential to get you in as soon as possible.” She paused, spinning her chair with the phone handset still pressed to her ear. “Oh, here, samples until Dr. Farriday can get you in.” She placed a large white paper bag on the counter. “Prenatal vitamins and a little pamphlet on pregnancy.” The last sentence was almost yelled.
She glared at the bag. Then Winnie.
Winnie smiled back. “Yes,” she said into her phone. “Renata Boone. R-e-n-a-t-a B-o-o-n-e. Urinalysis and blood test were both positive.” Listening. “Let me see if she’s available.”
She waited, trying not to look at the people seated in Dr. Santos’s waiting room. With Winnie blaring the news like a town crier, there was no way any of them had missed it. No way.
Winnie listed off the date. “They have a cancellation at two.”
Two days. She had no idea what her calendar looked like. Still, she nodded.
“She’ll take it. Thank you.” She hung up.
“Am I done?” Please let me done. She needed this to be over.
“You’re done here. As a mother myself, I can tell you—this is only the beginning.” Winnie pushed the white paper bag toward her.
As soon as she was back in her office, she threw the white paper bag in her desk and flopped into her office chair. Pregnancy had never entered her mind. Everything about that night had been so magical—almost unreal—that real-life consequences weren’t part of the equation. Now... What was she going to do? Maybe the lab at Dr. Santos’s was tainted somehow? But she rejected her pathetic attempt to deny the truth as soon as the thought occurred.
Like it or not, there was no way to wish this away. Her night with Ash had left lifelong consequences for her, her family and Ash, too. Unfortunately, she was the one that got to tell them her news and disappoint every single person she loved.
* * *
In order to stay busy—and away from Renata Boone—Ash had spent the next day poking around the hospital, setting up his office and driving around the county, looking for homes and exploring the region. By the time he headed to the Lodge, it was late and he was starving. With any luck, he’d raid the fridge and head to his room undetected. But there was a crowd gathered on the wraparound porch of the Lodge. A wagon strung with Christmas lights and half a dozen saddled horses waited in the side yard. Nothing like a holiday hayride.
He parked and waited, sweeping the faces of those assembled on the porch. No sign of Renata—which was good. With a deep breath, he climbed the steps to the crowded porch. Cowardly or not, the thought of fighting against the spectrum of emotions Renata caused was too much for him tonight. He slipped inside and nodded at the front desk attendant, the scents of apple cider and gingerbread making his empty stomach growl loudly. But as he crossed the great room, he caught sight of Renata, speaking to a handsome older gentleman with a commanding presence. Mr. Boone—it had to be. The family resemblance was undeniable.
Ash was trapped. A guest, a little old man pushing his walker at a snail’s pace, stood in his path. No quick escape then. At this point, he wanted an escape. But the formidable expression on Mr. Boone’s face gave Ash pause. And Renata? She was staring at her father like he’d sprouted a second head.
It wasn’t his business. But the little old man had barely moved and Ash would have had to jump the massive leather couch to get around him.
“Renata Jean, don’t give me that look,” Mr. Boone was saying.
Ash looked at Renata. That was some look. Determination. Incredulity. And more than a hint of anger. And, damn, he was struck by just how beautiful she was all over again.
He stared at the old man blocking his path, willing him to pick up the pace. No luck.
“Dad...this is ridiculous.” Renata’s outrage had Ash turning back, watching the two—against his will.
“Your brother never calls me, worrying about you. He did this morning.” His blue eyes swept over her face. “I want you to go see Doc Santos in the morning.”
Her hands fisted at her sides. “I’m fine,” she bit back.
Mr. Boone’s brows rose. “Until I see a note from your doctor saying otherwise, you’re staying out of the cold. No riding tonight.” He touched her cheek. “Don’t get all worked up, now. It’s done. Ryder, Hunter and Eli are happy to do it. You’re sick. You go on to bed.”
“A doctor’s note?” She laughed. “Are you kidding me?”
Ash thought of his son and the one time Curtis had come down with the flu. All the education and training in the world hadn’t eased the all-consuming worry Curtis’s cries had stirred in his heart. Guess that was something a father never outgrew.