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Chapter Four
Jill’s thirst burned in her throat, and she considered jogging the last hundred yards to the homestead. She didn’t, because she had far too many curves to run with. Things bounced that shouldn’t, and she settled for walking as quickly as she could.
Inside, the cool kiss of air conditioning met her skin. The homestead was quiet, and for once, Jill soaked in it. She hurried into the kitchen and opened the fridge, finding the top shelf fully stocked with bottled water, as usual.
Her hands shook as she twisted the lid, and she couldn’t drink fast enough. This heat wave that had hit Texas was no joke. Jill had lived in the state her whole life, but this was a new level of heat she hadn’t experienced before.
She exhaled heavily and set the half-empty bottle on the counter. She sucked at the air now, trying to get her head to stop swimming. “Can’t pass out,” she said to herself, her voice far too breathy. “You can’t. Go sit down.”
She couldn’t seem to get her body to move though. If she just stayed here, the lightheadedness would pass, and she’d be fine. She took breath after breath, trying to slow them. They wouldn’t listen, and she reached up and touched her forehead, finding it clammy.
“Emma,” she called as loud as she could. Emma worked in the office just around the corner from the kitchen. Maybe she could help get Jill to the couch. “Emma.”
“Jill?”
She turned toward the man’s voice, not expecting Slate to be in the homestead. Her mind blanked at the glorious sight of him. Maybe she was hallucinating now too. She needed to tell him she was going to pass out, but her voice had gone on vacation.
“Okay, let’s get you over to the couch,” Slate said. He approached her quickly, putting one hand on her back and taking her arm with the other. He led her across the cavernous kitchen and into the living room. “There you go.”
Humiliation filled her, because this was the second time he’d helped her. She groaned as she lay down, and Slate knelt next to the couch. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Do I need to call an ambulance?”
“No,” she rasped. “I just got a little heat stroke. I just needed a drink.”
“Did you get a drink?” He stood up, the sound of his boots against the tile moving away from her and then coming back. “Drink more, Jill.”
She’d closed her eyes at some point, and she opened them again. “I’m okay,” she said.
“Drink it all,” he said. “I’m going to go tell Emma what I’m doing.” He handed her the bottle and supervised while she finished it. “Be right back.”
Jill looked up at the ceiling, her mind catching up to his words. “Emma?” she asked. What was he doing here with Emma?
“Jill?” Emma’s face appeared from over the back of the couch. “If you have heat stroke, we should definitely go to the hospital.”
“I’m okay,” Jill said. She sat up, and the world stayed still. “I am.”
“You didn’t eat breakfast.” Emma looked at Slate, who wore a frown between his eyebrows. “Go find her something to eat, would you, Slate?”
“Sure.” He moved away again, and Jill wanted to protest. She didn’t though, because she hadn’t eaten breakfast. Ginger would be upset with her; Jill was upset with herself, because she knew better than to go out to work on the ranch without eating, especially in heat like this.
“I don’t like breakfast,” Jill said.
“Drink a protein shake, then,” Emma said as she came around the couch. “That’s what I’ve been doing. Nothing sounds good to me either, but I have to have something to combat the morning sickness.”
Slate arrived, sandwiching Jill on the couch. “I found string cheese and salami.”
“You’re pregnant?” Jill asked, her eyes never leaving Emma’s.
Her friend smiled, a completely new glow about her. “Yes,” she said. “That’s why I’m showing Slate all the financial stuff for the ranch. He’s going to help out when I’m not feeling well and after I have the baby.”
Tears welled in Jill’s eyes, and she leaned over and hugged Emma. “Congratulations.”
“Eat,” Emma said after breaking the embrace. She nodded toward Slate.
Jill took the food from him with a murmured, “Thanks,” and unwrapped the string cheese. “I really am okay.”
Emma looked toward the office. “My phone is ringing.”
“I’ll sit with her,” Slate said, and Emma nodded and bustled away.
