When Winona woke the next morning, for a moment she didn’t recognize her surroundings. Having lived half of her life on the road, it wasn’t the first time this had happened. She’d wake up on a tour bus, or in a hotel room, alone and disoriented. It took her a few seconds to remember and get her bearings.
She was in her new husband’s dark bedroom. Her hand dropped to her womb as it did now every morning. Still there.
One day, she’d find a way to forgive Riggs. After all, thanks to his apparently healthy swimmers, it only took once to get her pregnant. But she’d have to share her child now. She’d always thought this baby would be hers and hers alone because the men she’d married never wanted this responsibility.
She reached for her phone on the nightstand. No text messages from Kimberly. Winona was already so homesick she thought about texting her but instead checked email. Even that was as slow as a dial-up connection. And it probably was a dial-up connection! She waited several minutes for the emails to load. She had one bar. One! For the next few months, she’d be living in the country with even less Wi-Fi than she’d had at the rental. Finally, after about thirty or so minutes, and plenty of fist shaking on her part, the emails loaded.
Nothing too exciting, just the usual fan mail, most times answered by Kimberly’s assistant. Maybe Winona would start doing it now since she had plenty of free time on her hands.
Holding her breath, Winona googled her name, and waited several interminable minutes. Finally, a photo of her and Riggs appeared, with the press release covered by all major media:
Singer Winona James marries Texas cattle rancher in private wedding ceremony
It’s marriage again for thirty-nine-year-old CMA Award–winning vocalist, Winona James. She was recently wed to Texas cattle rancher, Riggs Henderson, in a secret ceremony with no press in attendance. She and her husband met through Winona’s third husband, Jackson Carver. It is the second marriage for the forty-two-year-old Riggs, a widower. It’s the fourth marriage for Ms. James. The couple will be honeymooning at an undisclosed location on the island of Kauai.
The last line was a fabrication Kimberly gave the press to throw them off. She’d hoped that within two weeks this story would be old news and Winona wouldn’t have to deal with any snoopy press coming to Stone Ridge. Almost a certainty, since she wasn’t exactly topping charts these days. All anyone seemed to be interested in anymore was counting her husbands. Another marriage! She would be the laughingstock of Nashville.
In the weeks since the night she’d performed to raise money for the local clinic her life had completely changed. Her baby was a six-week-old fetus and the books said she’d already have a heartbeat. Maybe it was time to see the doctor, but since she’d waited this long, she could wait a little longer. As long as everything was progressing smoothly, and she was healthy, she didn’t see a need to rush anywhere and have them confirm what she already knew to be true.
She found her robe and fished it out of her suitcase, knowing it would be just her and Delores this morning. Later, she’d put on her face. Do her hair. Get dressed. At the moment, she required sustenance as she was famished. She’d given up her caffeine fix the moment the stick turned pink and had been in a foul mood every morning since. Headaches were commonplace but now her stomach growled and pitched as she shoved her feet into slippers and peeked out the door. Down the hall, the coast was clear, and in the distance, she could hear Delores rattling around in the kitchen, humming “Beautiful Morning” to herself.
“Good morning,” Delores greeted when Winona strolled into the kitchen. “You missed breakfast, but I’ll whip you something up right quick. What do you want? Pancakes? Waffles? Fruit?”
“Yes.” It all sounded wonderful.
“Oh good, you’re hungry. Well, that’s good. I worried you might be one of those celebrities who’s vegan, or you know, doesn’t eat much.”
“Normally, I might be watching my weight, but I’ve been famished since I—” Winona stopped herself, realizing she’d been about to announce her pregnancy. “Since I got to Stone Ridge and tasted all that amazing Tex-Mex cookin’.”
“Well, you won’t starve round here. Plenty of home cookin’ in the Henderson household. I wouldn’t have it any other way. My boys like to eat.”
“Where are they?”
“They’re usually out in the fields from before dawn till late in the day. ’Course I’m sure you’ll see Riggs pop into the house more often than he normally would.” She winked. “He won’t forget ya.”
Not likely, since she was the biggest pain in his neck. A completely unplanned event in his life. No wonder he hated her. She’d turned his life inside out. But now he’d returned the favor two-fold.
While she had Delores to herself, Winona could ask a few more personal questions she might not feel comfortable asking her new husband.
“Did Riggs date much, um, before me?”
“Not really,” she said. “If he’s dated anyone, guess I don’t know about it. Never brought a woman home. You may have heard there’s a shortage of ladies in our small town. Everyone married up young around here. And Riggs is the kind to give the shirt off his back, so he hasn’t exactly been in the runnin’ for a while. He hasn’t had the time. I’m so glad you came along and changed all that. He’s been lonely. Not that he’ll admit it.”
“What happened to his first wife?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
Winona shook her head. “No. This has all been so…fast. A lot happened. I guess we’re still gettin’ to know each other.”
“Well, sugar, you should ask him. That’s too sad of a story for the day after your wedding.”
“Let me help you.” Winona hoped that the comfort of working side-by-side would encourage conversation.
“I never turn down help.”
Delores offered her the mixing bowl. She poured flour, milk, and eggs into it. The last time Winona ate homemade pancakes was probably when her mother had made them. She stirred for a few minutes, enjoying the sounds of the metallic spoon scraping against the plastic of the bowl. With the hum and familiarity of being in the kitchen, time slowed to a stop.
“I know that Riggs’s first wife died. He told me that much,” Winona said after a few minutes.
Perhaps preoccupied with buttering the waffle iron, Delores lowered her head. “An accident. So sad.”
Winona had thought it might be an early illness like the abhorrent C-word that took too many women far too young.
“Car accident?”
“Yes, and unfortunately, she was pregnant with their child.”
Winona stopped stirring and stared blindly out the kitchen window. Outside, a bluebird perched on the branch of an oak tree. Everything inside of her stilled. His actions made a lot more sense now. He didn’t want to lose another child.
Poor Riggs.
Delores kept talking. “Riggs blamed himself but that’s just who he is. He has this idea he’s everyone’s protector. But I blame Jenny. She got behind the wheel of a car when she’d had too much to drink. Nothing good ever comes out of that.”
Drinking, when she was pregnant. Winona told herself only an alcoholic would do that. Someone like her stepfather, Leroy. No wonder Riggs was so paranoid and untrusting of Winona. He had a false belief based on his unfortunate past.
“Did you know her well?”
“No, she never lived in Stone Ridge. They were college sweethearts, I guess. Jenny was a real party girl. They weren’t well suited to each other, frankly. How she wound up with Riggs I’ll never know.”
True love, Winona imagined. Such as when two radically different people couldn’t stay away from each other. Like two magnets. Riggs had that kind of love and passion at one time in his life and she envied him because she never had. The inscription on her wedding cake belonged to someone else. The pain twisted in her gut and she briefly lowered her hand to her womb. Thankfully, now, she’d never be alone again.
The thought cheered her enough that Winona feasted on the waffles piled with sliced peaches and delicious preserves. She had pancakes drenched in syrup and ate like she hadn’t in a long year.
I’m eating for two. I’ll work like a fiend after I give birth and lose all the extra weight.
Though, she’d read it was harder to lose pregnancy weight after thirty-five. She’d hire a trainer to torture her if it came to that.
“Maybe I’ll take a walk and work some of this off,” Winona said.
“Now that’s an idea, but we’re having a typical Texas fall. It might actually rain later. God only knows. If you want to know what the weather’s like, step outside.”
“I do know that about Texas,” Winona said, taking her plate to the sink.
Her stomach suddenly churned and pitched, protesting all the food she’d rewarded it with. Incredibly, she still felt empty, which didn’t make any sense.
“Oh boy. I don’t feel good,” Winona said, just before everything she’d swallowed started to come back up.
Riggs made sure to be home for supper, seeing as he was a “newlywed.” But he didn’t want to deal with Winona after the day he’d just had. Her hostility toward him was expected, but still not welcome. Right about now he could use that sweet wife he should have ordered from a mail-order bride service or something. No idea why his life’s purpose seemed to be being drawn to women who were salty instead of sweet. Dangerous instead of boring. He walked inside, throwing his Stetson on the hat ring in the foyer. He needed a shower before he could be presentable for dinner.
Delores was at the stove, cooking something that smelled delicious.
“Is that fried chicken?”
“Oh, Riggs. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news. Your new bride has the flu. She threw up this morning, and again sometime after lunch. I’ve been feeding her saltines. Now she’s refusing to eat anything and just laid up in bed miserable. Poor thing. I’m sorry, honey. I guess it’s for the best that you two put off that honeymoon after all.”
He stomped toward the bedroom and let himself in without knocking. It would seem odd to knock anyway, but at the moment, concern and worry curled in his stomach and he honestly didn’t care if he interrupted her in the middle of undressing. But she wasn’t on the bed, or in the bedroom. He heard the retching from the other side of the closed bathroom door.
“Winona?” He twisted the doorknob, but it was locked.
The toilet flushed. “Go away.”
“Unlock this door.”
“No! I’m sick, and I think we both know why. You can’t tell Delores.”
Then he heard more retching.
“Is this normal, or do you need the doctor?” Just the thought he’d lose this baby, too, filled him with unwelcome fear. No answer, and he became agitated, yanking on the doorknob. “Unlock this door or I swear I’ll do it myself.”
He could see why she might be embarrassed to let him inside, but he couldn’t help but want to take care of her. It wasn’t in his nature to walk away when someone needed help. A moment later, he heard movement and when he turned the knob, it was unlocked. He found Winona kneeling in front of the porcelain bowl, her hair tousled every which way to Sunday.
“You bastard,” she said.
“Why? Because I want to make sure you’re okay?”
“I don’t want anyone to see me like this, least of all you.”
“That’s ridiculous.” He wet a wash rag and bent to place it over her forehead. “We’re going to have to drop any shyness between us sooner rather than later.”
She moaned, cradling her head. “This is horrible.”
“What is it? Why are you like this?”
“Morning sickness, idiot. Or all-day sickness.”
“Should I get a doctor?”
“My mother went through this. She used to tell me about how miserable I’d made her.”
That little morsel certainly didn’t endear him to Winona’s mother. “Okay, so this is normal. We’ll just hang in there.”
She turned to him, those piercing eyes flashing anger. “We?”
He grimaced, feeling idiotic. “You know what I mean.”
Her reply was to throw up again, and he grew worried by her flushed and sweaty face. He knelt behind her, wiping her mouth when she was done. To his surprise, she leaned into him, and he realized she was far too miserable to care who had her back. He brushed her matted hair from her face and let her sit there for a few minutes, just quiet and calm in his arms.
When she hadn’t thrown up in several minutes, he rose and took her with him. “Let’s put you back to bed.”
She didn’t complain but buried her face in his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothin’ to be sorry about.” He gently placed her on the bed, where she curled up into a fetal position.
“I meant I’m sorry about your wife and baby.”
The loss was two decades old now and the pain no longer piercing. It used to bring him to his knees with grief but now he simply felt like it had almost happened to another person.
“That was a long time ago.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m still sorry it happened to you.”
He cleared his throat, changing the subject. “You sure you’re alright? I keep thinking we should go to the doctor.”
“There you go with the ‘we’ again.”
He sighed. “What I mean is that I’ll take you to the doctor. Should I make the appointment?”
“No! I’ll make my own appointments, thank you.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Gee, thanks. I get to make a decision.”
He wouldn’t go there with her now. She was too vulnerable and weak, and he didn’t kick puppies. But she’d made all the decisions in his estimation. She’d wanted this baby, enough to be interviewing sperm donors. Yeah, he was also to blame.
But to believe she hadn’t planned this was difficult sometimes.
“You’re welcome,” he said to the smartass. “But don’t you think it’s time you see a doctor? I read that most women go right after they find out they’re pregnant. We have a new clinic in town, run by a general practitioner. Dr. Judson Grant is his name.”
“Okay, I’ll think about it.” She waved her hand. “You can go now. I’ll be okay. Go have some of that delicious dinner I smell.”
“Do you want some? I’ll bring dinner to you.”
She opened one eye. “No, thanks. I couldn’t eat another bite.”
He left quietly, shutting the door behind him.