Page 43 of All in with the Maverick Montana

He strained his ears, listening for that unpleasant sound again. Everything was quiet, and then… Yes, Amy was getting sick.

Why was she sick?

A moment later the toilet flushed and then the pipes squeaked and clattered again as the water in the sink ran. When he heard the bathroom door pop open, he looked to the hall. Amy appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, a hand pressed to her stomach, ashen-faced. She clutched the doorframe with her other hand, her fingers blanched.

Even from here he could see a slight tremble.

Immediately Josh rolled out of bed and gathered her to him. She felt clammy. Her body sagged like it was too weak to hold her up.

“I thought you’d left.”

“Only made it as far as the bathroom,” she said, and he could tell she was trying to make a joke.

He pushed her hair back from her face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I think I have to go. I’m not… I’m not feeling well.”

“Of course. I’ll uh…” Where were his keys? No, first he needed pants. “I’ll drive you back to Faith’s.”

He dressed as quickly as he could, then helped get Amy downstairs and into the truck. There was a moment when he thought she was going to be sick again, right there on the driveway, but once she was sitting in the passenger seat, she rolled the window down and half leaned out, breathing in the fresh air.

Josh was filled with competing emotions. He was worried and anxious that something might really be wrong, and also disappointed. Last night he’d envisioned waking her up with breakfast. He wasn’t a miracle worker, but he could manage eggs and bacon and coffee. Now he just wanted to get her back to Caleb and Faith’s so they could figure out if she needed to see a doctor.

Was it a bug?

Or something she ate?

Oh… Oh!

“God, I hope it wasn’t the burgers.” Josh pressed on the gas, speeding down Juniper Road, spitting dust in his wake.

“No… No, I don’t think so,” Amy said. “If something was wrong with the meat, you’d be sick too. But you feel fine?”

He nodded. He did feel fine. Right? He took a deep breath, trying to assess if he somehow felt unsettled. Nope. He felt fit as a fiddle. “So far so good.”

“See,” Amy said, sucking in shallow little breaths that made him nervous.

He still wasn’t convinced this wasn’t somehow his fault.

“And besides,” she said, “you’re a great cook.”

“Wasn’t much cooking involved,” he noted. It wasn’t the potato salad, was it? Lord smite him for even suggesting such a thing. Of course it wasn’t Angela’s potato salad. He’d eaten it the day before. Again, if there was something wrong, he’d be just as sick.

“It wasn’t your dinner. The burgers were delicious.” Amy pressed her face into her hands. “God, I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be,” Josh said, still wondering if he’d inadvertently poisoned her. “Please don’t be. I had a wonderful time with you. This is just—”

“Mortifying,” Amy cut in.

“It doesn’t change one second of the time we spent together. Don’t think that.” Amy leaned her head out the window again. Josh looked between her and the road, to the way her entire face pinched, a tiny crease appearing between her eyes.

“I’m sure I just caught a stomach bug somewhere.” She groaned. “Oh God, I hope I didn’t give it to you!” Her eyes flew open, startled as she looked at him. “Josh, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“How can I not worry? The first night we spend together and I infect you with some horrible stomach germ.”

“You didn’t infect me with anything. We don’t even know what this is yet.”