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Death. It’s been my one constant shadow.
On the ranch, in the military, it’s a part of life. I’ve walked the fine line that comes with the shadowy part of my past. Faced it down when Sully was killed, when I was shot, when my brother lost his mind.
And I fixed all that. I survived.
But this…
This I can’t fix.
Utterly fucking helpless.
I pace the small, sterile room, then go to the back of Dakota’s table to help her into the thin paper-like gown. It’s not the first appointment I’ve been to, but it’s the first time I’ve been inside the room with Dakota. My gut clenches when I see the blood on her balled-up jeans.
“I don’t want to lose my baby,” she says as I help her lie down. Her eyes are wide and bright with tears.
“You won’t,” I rasp. I lean in close, resting a hand on the hard ball of her belly. Hoping to feel the reassuring thump of Squish, but there’s nothing.
Dakota sniffles. “This is my fault. I didn’t want the baby in the first place and now…” A shudder wracks her body. “Now it’ll be taken away from me.”
“Stop,” I demand. “Don’t say that. Don’t think that way.”
My heart’s in my goddamn stomach. I’m just as afraid as she is. I want this baby as much as she does. I want it for Dakota.
For us.
Christ, it’s like the rational part of my brain has turned off. Instead of feeling a duty to keep my hands off her, my heart out of it, it’s been replaced by a duty to step up.
I love this woman, which means I love her child.
It’s as simple as that.
“You bought the pinball machine.” Dakota’s soft voice tears me from my thoughts. She gives me a teary smile. “Gus said you boughtCowgirl Coven.”
I slip my hand around hers. Not long after she left Resurrection, I purchased the machine. The thought of it disappearing like Dakota did left me with an ache in my soul. “It’s my favorite piece of memory in this town. Because it reminds me of you.”
Her laugh is husky, sad. “Thank you. It means so much, Davis.”
She reaches for me, but as she does, she hisses a breath and grips her stomach. Worry flashes over her face.
“Where’s that damn doctor?” I growl, on the verge of storming back into the waiting room and demanding someone get the fuck here now. But I don’t need to. The door opens and inside steps a woman with long silver hair.
“Hi, Dakota.”
Dakota sits up on her elbows. A stream of tears streak down her face. “Hi, Dr. Winfrey.”
“I’d say it’s good to see you, but the circumstances aren’t ideal, are they?” Her gaze flicks to me. “This must be the father.”
“Yes,” I say.
Dakota goes still, turning her face up to meet my eyes. I keep my hand in hers, keep my eyes on the doctor.
“I understand you’re having some bleeding,” Dr. Winfrey says as she washes her hands. “Tell me about it.”
“We were out tonight and when I used the bathroom…” A tremble wracks her. “There was blood. Not a lot, but it was dark red. That’s bad, isn’t it?”
“Any abdominal pain, cramping, fever, chills, or contractions?”
She winces. Fresh tears fill her eyes. “A small cramp. Earlier tonight.”
