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Eleven
He went to her house every day for the next couple of weeks. He made breakfast, and three times a week, he made dinner.
They sat together and they ate it. And they talked about their childhoods—it was interesting to hear her side of the family dispute, which, of course, involved his ancestor cheating in a poker game and stealing the land from her family, and though he had already accepted that version of events after Chance and Juniper had gotten together, it was important that he heard it from Shelby herself—but they also found out they weren’t all that different. They had been raised on the backs of horses. Raised to love this place. Generations of blood were soaked into the dirt. And they could respect that in each other.
He loved hearing about how her grandmother had taught her to be. How she’d learn to cook traditional recipes, and how her family tried to hang on to their traditions, their ways, as much as they could, while her parents also worked to give them all the advantages of the current culture right along with it. As someone who hadn’t grown up with cultural tension, it was interesting to hear about it. And he found it meant something that she trusted him with the stories. They didn’t talk about her marriage. They didn’t talk about grief again. And they didn’t really talk about the future.
But knowing about Shelby’s foundation mattered.
He was supposed to be making her realize that she needed him. But all this was growing an attachment that he hadn’t quite counted on. One that he hadn’t anticipated.
But he had to wonder if Shelby just felt like they were growing that friendship she wanted. For him, it was something more. Something deeper.
He had her doctor appointment marked on his calendar, and when the day arrived, he got up early to make her breakfast like he always did, then he went to the bathroom and threw up. Though he didn’t let her know about the throwing up.
He realized that he was... He was not handling this well. Because he knew as well as anyone that life just didn’t always hand you good things. What if they went and there was no baby? What if all of this was gone before they got to have it? He wasn’t sure that he could handle that. He wasn’t sure... Yes. He wasn’t sure about any of it. He knocked on the door, and she answered, looking tired. And maybe a little bit sick herself.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said. Then she groaned. “No. I’m nervous. Because if not for the positive pregnancy test, and the missed periods, I don’t know that I would even know I was pregnant. And I did some online research...”
“Damnation, woman. Don’t you know better than that?”
“It can indicate that you have a low level of hCG. Which could mean that something is wrong.”
“Well, that’s a fucked-up mess. Feeling worse when you’re pregnant is better?”
“It’s just what I read. I don’t know... I don’t know. I’m almost twelve weeks. So it’s like... If everything is okay today, then maybe everything is okay. But what if it’s not okay? What if we just spent all this time... For nothing?”
“Let me make you some breakfast.”
“I don’t think I can eat.”
“Well, let’s do our best.”
He didn’t tell her that he’d thrown his guts up forty-five minutes earlier. Because what was the point in letting her know that he wasn’t any better off than she was? He wanted to spare her that. He didn’t want to validate any of her worries.
He made a scaled-back breakfast, and they both did the best they could to eat. Maybe she was trying to be brave for him too. The thought made him smile a little bit.
“Let me drive,” he said, opening up the passenger-side door of his truck and guiding her into it.
“Thank you,” she said. “For being with me. It actually does mean a lot, and you know that I hate to admit that.”
“I do know that, Shelby. I know you don’t like to admit to needing anyone.”
“I don’t need you,” she said, in defiance, and it made him laugh. In spite of it.
“Of course not,” he said.
“I don’t,” she said. “I can’t afford to need anybody. Not ever again. Needing people just... It just hurts in the end. It just hurts and hurts, and what’s the point? You can’t control whether or not you get to keep a person, so you can’t really ever let yourself need someone.”
“You know, I get that.” Except he hadn’t needed his sister. It wasn’t that. But he understood how fragile everything was. “But I’m not sure that cutting yourself off from those kinds of connections is a good thing either.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“I guess you didn’t.”
The little clinic that they went to just outside town was old and quaint and had definitely seen better days. And he didn’t know what to expect from any of it. He’d never done anything like this before. Never been to a place like this.
