Kit jolted awake. Her skin burned. Why was she so hot? She tried to kick off the covers, but her legs refused to move. The covers weighed a thousand pounds. The clock showed 3:03 a.m. Where was she? The dim room came into view. She was still in the cabin on Wade’s ranch. A searing pain in her back made her teeth clench. She forced her legs over the side of the bed, braced her hand under her stomach and hobbled toward the bathroom.
Oh, no, she was going to throw up.
A wave of dizziness stopped the nausea. She groped for something to hold on to, and her hand found the bathroom door handle. Almost there.
Inside, she flicked on the light. A sheen of sweat covered her face. The pain in her back clenched again. She doubled over. What was wrong with her?
Oh, God, not the baby!
Although earlier she’d tried for over an hour, she hadn’t gotten through to the doctor’s office, and she’d been so tired, she must have fallen asleep. She had to get help. Wade would know what to do.
Her head was spinning. She couldn’t straighten. Why wouldn’t her feet move?
On her hands and knees, she crawled back to the bedroom to find her phone. The nightstand was a hundred miles away, but she crept to it. Finally, she reached up and grasped the phone.
The exertion made her temperature soar. Her arms no longer supported her, and she fell facedown on the fluffy rug. As she flitted near the edge of consciousness, she forced herself to focus. Somehow, she found Wade’s contact and pressed it.
God, I know You’re here. Don’t let the baby die. Get Wade here now. Please, Lord, save the baby!
Pain drilled through her lower back on the first ring.
“Yeah?” He sounded curt and groggy.
“Help,” she whispered. The phone fell out of her hand, and she lay on her side, unable to move.
Nausea threatened once again. She closed her eyes.
“Kit? Is that you? What’s wrong?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
Nothing mattered anymore.
Nothing but the baby.
Wade shoved his feet into cowboy boots and sprinted to his truck. He needed to get to Kit. Fast. His truck spit gravel as he tore up the lane to the cabin.
Help. One word. Whispered in desperation.
Fear choked the blood out of his heart.
He couldn’t lose her.
He. Could. Not. Lose. Her.
He slammed on the brakes in front of the cabin, unlocked the front door and raced inside. No sign of her in the living area. He looked into her bedroom and almost fell to his knees at the sight of her lying on her side on the rug. Her cheek rested on her arm.
Was she breathing?
He knelt beside her to check her pulse. Her skin was on fire. Quickly, he scooped her into his arms and marched straight out to the truck. He eased the seat back and strapped the seat belt around her. As much as he’d like to call 911 and have medical professionals take over, it wasn’t an option. It would take too long for an ambulance to come.
Should he grab her purse? She’d need her insurance card and license. He ran in and spotted it on the table. Five seconds later, he was at the wheel and driving as fast as safely possible. When he reached the road, he looked right, then left. Sweet Dreams didn’t have a hospital. He’d have to drive farther, to the nearest city.
Flooring the accelerator, he sped down the road, fear squeezing him from every direction. What would cause her to have a blazing fever and pass out?
Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
Kit was his best friend. The person who mattered most to him.
She couldn’t lose the baby. It would destroy her.
Take it all, Lord. Take the ranch, the land, the money—all of it—but let Kit and her baby live.
She was the most precious thing in his life.
She’d always been the most precious thing in his life.
His eyes blurred as he thought back on all the times they’d spent together. The letters she’d sent him every week at Yearling. The late-night calls just because. The visits he’d made to her when she was in college. Their easy laughter and quiet comfort simply being with each other.
And other less fond memories came back, like when she’d told him she was engaged. Or her wedding day—she’d looked so beautiful. He’d about lost it when she’d said “I do” to another man. But he’d wanted her to be happy. It had been hard—no, torture—to pull back on their friendship to let her marriage get off the ground. Then Cam died. And Wade hadn’t known how to react to his death.
She’d shown up on his porch as a widow with a baby on the way, and it had scared the snot out of him. Filled him with hope, too. Hope that he’d finally have a chance with her, the woman he’d loved for as long as he could remember. He’d been stupid to think he could protect himself by not telling her he loved her. This pain seared as much, if not more, than the pain of losing his mother.
“I love you, Kit.” He reached over and pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. Still way too hot. The fever was soaring, and the fact she was barely conscious took him to bad mental places.
Was she going to die?
Keep it together. Focus on the road. She needs you now.
He slammed the heel of his hand into the steering wheel. He hated not having control.
Once more he was a little boy at the babysitter’s, waiting for his mother to come get him. She’s just running late, sugar. Nothing to worry about.
And the next days had passed in a blur until one day he’d woken up in a foster home. The first of many. And yet he’d clung to the hope his mom would come back for him.
Later, when he’d found out she’d been murdered, he’d shut down. Realizing the finality of it—she would never come get him—set the course for the rest of his life.
He’d put up protective barriers that hadn’t protected him at all. He’d convinced himself he could control getting hurt or not by avoiding love. But love couldn’t be any more dangerous than whatever was happening right now. He wasn’t even married to Kit and the thought of losing her was ripping out his heart.
He’d rather love her and lose her than never have the chance.
The miles fell away and his tension rose higher and higher. He could see things clearly, things he’d never realized were cloudy before.
In all his business deals, he’d been missing out on the one thing that truly would make him happy, would give his life some meaning.
Last night he’d offered Kit a future.
A shabby future.
His throat felt raw. She’d been right to turn him down. She deserved better, more, the world.
If he could do it over, he would bare his soul, tell her the truth—that he needed her more than anything.
The miles sped by and the edge of the city came into view.
“We’re almost there, Kitty Cat.” He got choked up and had to grind his teeth for a moment before speaking again. “Hang tight.”
I can’t lose her!
He glanced at her round tummy.
I can’t lose the baby, either.
He loved the child like it was his own.
Why was this happening? What if she died? What if she never knew how much he loved her?
He parked the truck and carried her to the emergency room, where the staff whisked her away while a receptionist handed him a clipboard. When he’d filled out the paperwork to the best of his knowledge, he found a seat in the waiting area and slumped in the chair.
All he could do now was pray.
Kit’s eyelashes fluttered. Beeps and lights bombarded her. She moaned. Something was on her arm. Tubes. Why? A gentle touch on her hand made her turn her head.
“Try and stay still, hon.” A woman in scrubs adjusted the IV in her arm.
Why was there an IV in her arm? She couldn’t remember... She must be in the hospital. What had happened? What day was it? Why—
The baby.
Her hands flew to her stomach.
Still round.
Still there.
“The baby...” Her throat was dry.
“Shh...don’t use up your energy.”
She’d use up every ounce of her energy to find out if her baby was okay. “Is he alright?”
The nurse’s forehead furrowed, and she called over her shoulder for someone to come in. “You still have a high fever,” she told Kit. “We’re trying to get it down. Try and stay calm.”
Why wouldn’t they tell her if the baby was okay?
What was happening?
She was losing him, wasn’t she? What had she done wrong? Her breaths came in shallow gasps. Hopelessness left a vacuum in her heart. The letter Sandra had written swam through her mind. She’d lost babies. God is taking care of them. Hold on to your faith. In the end, it’s all that matters.
Kit didn’t want God to take care of the baby for her. She wanted to raise him herself!
Two other people in scrubs entered and talked with the nurse in hushed voices. She couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Where was Wade? He’d make it all better. He’d explain to her what was going on. He’d get them to talk to her. Slightly lifting her head, she tried to see across the room, but the nurse pressed her back. She felt funny, like her limbs were made of taffy.
Wade wasn’t in here. And why would he be? She remembered his proposal, remembered turning him down. He must have driven her here, though.
He’d always stepped up and done his duty where she was concerned. Was that why he’d asked her to marry him? Was she his duty?
“Don’t move. We need you to stay as still as possible for the baby’s sake.”
For the baby’s sake... It meant her son was still alive, right?
“Is he—”
“Just relax.” The nurse patted her hand while someone fiddled with the IV. “The doctor is coming soon. Rest.”
Rest? She didn’t want to rest. She wanted them to save her baby.
Her eyelids felt so heavy. She’d close them for a moment. Just a moment. The seconds before she’d called Wade earlier bombarded her. She’d been in bed. Hot, so hot. Crawling to the bathroom. The cramps...
“Save my baby.” The words came out scratchy. Had she even said them? Or was she in a dream?
“I’ll get you some ice chips,” the nurse said. “They’ll make you feel better.”
Kit reached for her, wanting her to wait, to stay and answer her questions, but her hand grabbed air. Too late.
The story of her life.
Too late.
Always just a little too late.
Too late to save her marriage. Too late to save Cam.
Too late to beg Wade to hold her and never let her go.
He’d offered her everything she’d ever wanted. His name, his home, his protection, his money. Safety. Belonging.
Security.
And like the idiot she was, she’d turned it all down. If she could go back... Yes. Say yes, Kit.
She stopped fighting the grogginess. Maybe if she slept, she’d dream about Wade, and this time she’d accept his proposal. This time she’d say yes to what she’d always wanted.
But even in her half-awake state, she knew it was a fantasy. Saying yes wouldn’t change reality.
She loved Wade. And he didn’t love her back.
Her love wasn’t enough for him.
Some things never changed.
Wade jerked awake. Was Kit okay? His neck had a crick from him slumping in the waiting room chair. Sunlight brightened the area. He checked his watch. After eight thirty. He must have drifted off.
He rubbed his neck and crossed to the reception desk.
“Any word on Kit McAllistor?” He took in the other people sitting nearby. Most of them had the same bleary-eyed fear he couldn’t shake. It had been hours since the staff whisked Kit away. Surely they knew something by now?
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m not authorized to say.” Her compassionate eyes darted back to the computer screen.
He had a bad feeling about this. “I’m getting a coffee and will be right back. You’ll let me know when I can see her?”
“Of course.” Her sympathetic smile didn’t put him at ease. “The cafeteria is down the hall. Vending machines are in the opposite direction.”
He could barely lift his boots as he made his way to the cafeteria. Doctors and nurses passed by in their scrubs and lab coats. Beeps and muted conversations filtered to the hall from the rooms he passed. A double door up ahead swung open, revealing the cafeteria. He poured a large black coffee, paid for it and returned to the waiting area.
For all his talk with Clint and Nash about seeking God’s will and praying, he had yet to open his Bible and actually do it. Wade set the coffee on an end table, dropped into a chair and pulled out his phone.
Fear roped around his heart for Kit. For the baby. But he scrolled through until finding a Bible app.
Okay, God, now what?
The app opened to a Bible verse. It was from John. He skimmed through it. Then read it again. “In the world ye shall have tribulation.” Great.
But God overcame the world.
He frowned, trying to decipher what it meant in this situation.
He moved on to the Psalm Dottie used to read to them at night when he lived at Yearling. “The Lord is my shepherd...”
The valley of the shadow of death—yep. That described this situation. He read it again, carefully, pausing to grasp each phrase.
He sat back in the chair, mindlessly reached for the coffee and took a drink. Still hot.
I’ve been so stupid, thinking I was so smart.
Clint and Nash were right. He’d never been in control. He thought about all the years he’d avoided church and ignored God.
I’m sorry, Lord. I didn’t thank You or appreciate all You’ve blessed me with. I was arrogant. Thought I’d done it all myself. Didn’t give You credit at all.
Hanging his head, Wade felt the full weight of his sin claw through his body.
Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me.
He wiped his face with his hands, surprised at the emotions coming to the surface. Jesus had died for him. Out of love. The ultimate love. The ultimate sacrifice.
God, I’d do the same for Kit. Please let her live. Please! Save her. Save the baby. I’m begging You.
He couldn’t bear to live in a world without her in it. She’d been his rock, his stability, the anchor in his life for so many years. He couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing her cute freckles, not listening to her tinkly laugh, not rocking in chairs on the porch as they appreciated the beauty of Wyoming.
The world would be a bleak, dark place without her in it.
He thought of Jackson leaving him his entire estate. All because the old man had no wife, no family, no kids.
Wade didn’t want to end up the same. He wanted to create a legacy. With Kit beside him.
Peace spread from his heart to his mind.
I’ve finally made it, Kit. Choked up, he tilted his head and looked to the ceiling. She’d asked him when he would know he’d made it. The moment had come. And all he wanted to do was hold her hand and tell her.
God, I’m trusting You. But if my prayers aren’t enough, I’m getting some help.
He dialed Marshall. “Hey, man, I’m at the hospital about an hour and a half away from Sweet Dreams. Kit’s in trouble. I don’t know what’s wrong with her or how the baby is at this point, but there’s a good chance I won’t be able to make it to the wedding.”
“I’m sorry, man. Don’t worry about the wedding. Just stay there and take care of Kit. Hey, I had to miss Nash’s wedding because Belle was having the quadruplets.”
“Thanks, Marshall. I hate to do this to you. Will you ask everyone to pray for her and the little guy? I’m calling Clint and Nash now.”
“Sure thing. We’ll be praying for Kit and the baby. And for you.”
He couldn’t speak for a moment. His friends were too good to him.
“I hope today is everything you’ve dreamed of, Marsh.”
“If it ends with Ainsley as my wife, it will be. Keep us posted.” He hung up.
Wade called Nash and Clint and explained the situation. They promised to pray, too, and told him they’d check in now and then for updates.
He tossed the coffee cup in the trash and returned to his seat. What if Kit had taken a turn for the worse?
What if she lost the baby?
God, let them both live. If You’ll give me another chance, I’ll never let her go. I’ll tell her in no uncertain terms how much she means to me. I’ll put a ring on her finger and break every speed limit to get to a church.
I need her, God.
I need her.