Page 88 of Claimed By Ruin

“Yeah. Thought she might be helpful.”

“Maybe. This is a farm, not a hospital. There’s only so much I can do,” she said.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Doc,” he said.

She scowled at him, then looked at me. “I’m assuming there’s a pregnant woman here.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Come in.”

The woman followed me into the house, and with each step, relief hit me like a ton of bricks.

“My equipment is limited, but I can do a check and see what we have going on,” she said as we made our way to the kitchen.

When we got there, Asia was standing, and I was sure she overheard the conversation. She looked at me, I looked at her, and she burst into tears.

The doctor seemed unbothered and walked over to Asia, her hand extended. “I’m Miranda Warren. Pleased to meet you.”

Asia wiped her tears and then wiped her hand on her pants and shook the doctor’s. “Sorry. Hormones and whatnot.” Her brows dropped, the weight she tried so hard to pretend she wasn’t carrying falling from her face. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Warren.”

The doctor smiled. “Just Miranda. Would you be open to me performing an examination?”

Asia smiled and nodded, words having failed her.

We went to the small parlor bedroom, and I held Asia’s hand as the doctor conducted her exam. Her movements were practiced, rote in the most reassuring way.

She measured Asia’s belly with a tape measure and listening to her heart and lungs, did a breast and vaginal exam. Then she flipped on the handheld Doppler Dante brought into the house, squirted gel on Asia’s belly, and I heard a sound I never once imagined I would.

Thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud.

Listening to that galloping thud had my chest twisted with emotion I didn’t have a name for.

There was even a crack in Miranda’s professional facade. She smiled. “Good, strong heartbeat. Based on measurements, I’d say you’re thirty-eight weeks. Maybe thirty-seven if the baby’s big.”

“So soon then?” Asia looked from Miranda to me and back again.

Her smile was brighter. “Any day now.”

THIRTY-TWO

Asia

“Did Jack send you to tell me to sit down?” I asked Miranda five days after she arrived.

I was in the newly built smokehouse. It sat at an angle, and Elliot wouldn’t let Miles live down the uneven lumber cuts. But it was done, functional, and I wanted to catalog the stores.

I only did this occasionally, because this job mostly had fallen to Caitlin. I was still trying to figure out a way to make the process my own and do it half as well as she had. Like everything, it was a work in progress.

Miranda laughed. “No. I actually came out here on my own.”

I nodded my head and she walked inside the small space, looking at me furtively.

“You seem kind of young to be a doctor,” I said.

She shrugged. “I used to have a great skin care routine.”

I smiled, and she smiled back, but I saw something on the tip of her tongue.

“What is it?” I asked.