21
GWEN
My heart dropped into my stomach.
Honey ran to the door, barking and howling. Her tail wagged, making her whole body wiggle. She knew whoever waited on the other side.
I still looked at the set of butcher knives on the counter.
I fumbled with the burner phone to shut it down and shove it in my hoodie pocket.
On the tips of my toes, careful to remain quiet if it was someone I didn’t want to talk to— or someone dangerous, no matter how paranoid that may have sounded—I made it to the window on the left of the door.
Delilah stood behind it.
My shoulders loosened, deep breath parting my lips. I unlatched the deadbolt and swung it open. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, smiling, her nose bright pink from the cold wind. At least an inch of snow piled on top the hood of her coat. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry for just showing up. I was walking around, and I wound up on this trail, I remembered you saying that you lived here, and—I don’t know. Your lights were on.”
My heart swelled. She needed someone to talk to.
Stepping aside, I held the door open for her. “Come on in.”
“Are you sure?” She glanced me over, likely noting my silly pink pajamas covered in doughnuts. “If you were getting ready for bed, I don’t want to?—”
“Please. Insomnia keeps me up half the night anyway.” I gestured toward the couch. “Seriously. Have a seat.”
Eyes softened, she thanked me, shook the snow off her jacket onto the porch, and did just that.
“Do you want a drink?” Out of instinct, I reached for the whiskey on the table. Then I looked at Delilah again. Her round, supple cheeks, her small stature. “Wait, how old are you? I don’t know if I’ve asked.”
“Eighteen.” She tugged off her coat, a teasing smile curving the edges of her lips. “But I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“Of all the things, that won’t be what I go to prison for.” A similar smile in response. “How about tea? Or hot chocolate?”
“Oh, you don’t have to go to all that trouble for me.”
“It’s no trouble. I could go for some hot chocolate.” I grabbed some heavy cream from the fridge and started for the stovetop. “It mixes well with whiskey. In a couple years, I’ll make you some.”
While the cocoa and cream melted together in the pot, Delilah let out a halfhearted, almost ironic chuckle. “I probably shouldn’t drink it anyway. I’m not sure how it works. Is it dangerous to drink while you’re pregnant because of the baby? Or does it hurt you?”
I stopped stirring, replaying that over in my mind. Delilah didn’t clarify, she didn’t say more, so I had to assume that I had heard correctly.
It wasn’t uncommon around here. As a woman without children, I was the minority at Rhiannon’s Ranch.
Slowly, I spun to face her. “You’re pregnant?”
With tears in her eyes, she pressed her lips together and gave a nod. “But I won’t be for long.”
Frown tugging at the edge of my lips, I debated how to respond. That explained why she asked the way she had. Certainly had me considering corrupting the minor.
“Rhiannon took me to my appointment in Black Pines.” Delilah stayed only an octave above a whisper. “She told me before that if I didn’t want this, we could find a way to make that work, but I did. I wanted to keep it. But today at my ultrasound, they said something wasn’t right. The baby, it’s on my tube? Or something like that. And when it gets bigger, it’s gonna kill me. I still don’t understand it all, but…”
“It’s ectopic.” I left the ingredients to simmer and returned to the sofa beside Delilah. “I’m so sorry. How are you doing?”
She tried to smile, but the tears started falling. It took a few hard swallows and tissue dabs before she continued. “I don’t know. I wanted her. I really did. She’s the reason I left. But I don’t understand why they can’t just move her. I get that she is on my tube, and when she gets bigger, the tube will burst and I’ll bleed out. But if there’s nothing wrong with her, and it’s just where she’s at, I don’t understand.”
“Science hasn’t gotten that far yet.” I reached out for her hand. “I’msosorry.”
