He was going to get her to open the box even if it meant bribing and cajoling. The woman needed to face reality—she was having a baby. And that meant she had to start preparing for it. No more of this protecting-herself-from-the-pain-of-possibly-losing-the-child nonsense. Did she really think avoiding the box would somehow prevent her from being devastated if the baby didn’t make it?
Wade washed his hands in the kitchen sink. Supper was almost ready. He’d set the table earlier. He’d drive to the cabin to get her in a minute.
This morning at church, he’d actually listened to half the sermon before his mind started wandering. He hadn’t liked where it had traveled. Right up there to the front of the church where his buddies had gotten married. The look of love on their brides’ faces when they’d said their vows had etched into his memory.
All the tuxedos he’d had to rent recently must have rubbed romance dust off on him or something. Couldn’t have happened at a worse time, either. His life was collapsing around him.
What did he have to offer a woman?
A woman? Like there was anyone besides Kit he’d even consider spending his days with. But after all she’d been through in life, she deserved someone who would protect her from problems, not someone who would add to them.
They’d skipped the group breakfast at the diner when Kit complained of feeling a bit low. What did “a bit low” mean? He had no clue, but he’d sure spent enough time trying to figure it out today. Worrying hadn’t been his style until recently. He’d finally gotten sick of himself and had prayed for a clear head. He was tired of feeling strung out. Tired enough to ask God for help.
Two knocks on the glass of the patio door and a sliding sound drew his attention to the dining area.
“It smells so good in here.” Kit’s cheeks were pink, but worry clouded her eyes. “Whatcha cookin’?”
“A slab of beef. Brisket, to be precise. Been in there for hours. Why didn’t you wait for me to pick you up?”
“Yum. What can I do?”
It didn’t escape his notice that she ignored his question. It was on the tip of his tongue to say, “First of all, you can stay off your feet and let me drive you, and second, you can open that big box in my living room,” but he didn’t. “Grab a seat. I’ll bring the food over.”
He carried a platter of sliced brisket with potatoes and carrots to the table. After Kit said grace, they both dug in.
“What did you do this afternoon?” she asked.
“Rode Thunder.”
“It’s been forever and a day since I rode a horse.”
He scooped a bite of potato on his fork. “You miss it?”
“Yeah. I always enjoyed riding. It seemed like all my friends had their own horses.”
“Any time you get an itch to ride, let me know.” He frowned, growing tense. “After you have the baby, of course. Don’t want anything happening to you or the little guy.”
“Don’t worry.” She smiled, shaking salt on the vegetables. “I have no desire to ride one now.”
The tension in his neck eased.
“Maybe after the baby is born I can come visit.” The words sounded choked. “I’ll be moving in a few weeks.”
It didn’t seem like nearly enough time with her.
“You found a different apartment?” He dug into the brisket.
“I’m meeting with the heart specialist in a few weeks. I’ll need to be in Casper by then.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” He knew he sounded testy, but he hadn’t realized she still planned to move to that nasty apartment. A roach-infested hovel if he ever saw one.
“I meet with the cardiologist three weeks from Tuesday, and I have an appointment with an obstetrician the following Thursday.”
He lunged for the glass of water. Three weeks? They’d fly by faster than a hawk with a field mouse. Man, he was jumpy.
“Let me know when you want to check out apartments. I’ll drive you there.”
“Wade, I’m moving in to the one I put the deposit on.”
“No way.” He leaned in. “I want you and the baby safe.”
“We’ll be safe. God always watches over me.” The gleam in her eye as she nodded just about did him in. She looked like she was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince him.
“It’s not the place for you—”
“It is.” Her quiet words were harder than steel. “I told you, I don’t have a lot of options. I have no job and I need to be near the hospital.”
“I’ll cover the deposit for a better apartment and the difference in rent. You can’t live there.” And she couldn’t. He knew it down to the bottom of his toes.
He had to sell one of his properties soon. It wasn’t too much to ask, was it? He still had a few weeks before Kit moved. And selling Del Poncho would free up some cash.
She blinked several times. “It’s kind of you, Wade, but I can’t accept it.”
“You can’t accept it?” His chest hollowed out. Was he some stranger she couldn’t trust? Didn’t friends help each other? “Oh, that’s right. You don’t accept help from anyone, including me.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Her eyes flashed.
“As a last resort.” He leaned back and cocked his head toward the living room. “What about the package over there? Someone took the time to buy those gifts and send them here, but opening it would be accepting help, wouldn’t it? And we both know you don’t take charity.”
“That’s not it—”
“Prove it, then. Open the box.”
“I don’t think this is the right time. I’ll take it back to my cabin and—”
“Kit.”
She hated when he used that tone. He was wrong. She could accept help. She could.
Then why was it so hard to open this package?
Presents she’d unwrapped over the years rushed back. Gifts that had been stolen by other kids or lost when she’d been forced to move. If she opened this package, would her dream of becoming a mother be stolen, too? Would she get her hopes up, only to lose the baby?
It’s just a box. You’re giving it too much power. It’s cardboard, Kit. Come on.
“Fine. I’ll do it now.” She marched to the kitchen, snatched the scissors out of the drawer and headed to the living room.
She knelt next to the box. Carefully cut through the packing tape. When the flaps were free, she sat back on her heels for a moment. She was going to love every item in here, and if the baby died, each gift would hurt that much more.
God, I’m scared. Please help me see this for what it is, not for what I think it represents.
“What are you waiting for?”
“Nothing.” She lifted one flap. Then the other. And, taking a deep breath, peered into the box.
A crocheted white baby blanket covered the top. She tenderly lifted it and brought it to her chin. It was so soft. Beautiful. Tears pricked her eyes. Someone had made this for her child. The hours it must have taken. The generosity.
Wade let out a low whistle. “Someone was feeling confident. White? With a baby? I don’t think it will stay clean for long.”
She let out a shaky laugh, not trusting herself to reply.
“Is that it?” He made a production of craning his neck to peek inside. “Seems like an awfully big box for one blanket.”
She gave him a fake glare. “Don’t rush me.” She could do this. Now that the first item was out, she could handle the rest.
She reached in again and pulled out a package of bottles. One by one, she brought out the treasures. Newborn-sized diapers, a pack of onesies, rattles, bibs, a mobile, a sleeper with yellow duckies, a floppy stuffed dog, pacifiers and, at the bottom, a card in a purple envelope. She’d wait to read it at the cabin. If she opened it now and saw all the signatures of the people she’d worked with for years and hadn’t truly appreciated, she’d lose it.
Wade was right. She’d never been able to accept help. What had she lost out on over the years because of it?
“What do you do with this?” Wade held the box with the mobile. His grimace was priceless.
“It attaches to the baby’s crib. The little fish dangle from it as it turns. I think it makes music, too.”
He squinted at the back of the box. “Yep. It needs two AA batteries.”
Carefully, she placed everything back inside, then pressed the blanket to her chest once more.
“If the baby doesn’t make it, I’m keeping this no matter what.” She rubbed the soft material against her cheek. “Then I won’t forget.”
“You won’t forget. You’d never forget.”
She lowered her lashes, nodding. He was right, of course.
“But you should keep it. It’s real nice.” He cleared his throat. “And don’t even think along those lines. He’ll make it.”
She wasn’t sure. Women had stillborn babies on a regular basis, and her baby already had been diagnosed with problems. The idea of losing her son and having to give birth to his lifeless body had kept her up many nights.
“I’m becoming grim and pessimistic, Wade,” she said quietly. “I try not to think of all the things that could go wrong, but there they are. In my head, waiting to pounce. And then I can’t stop thinking about them. And I try to get answers on the internet, and...”
“Well, there’s your problem. Don’t go on the internet. You’ll only find a million more reasons to be scared. I had a pain in my abdomen, and I went on one of those doctor websites, thinking it might be my appendix. Two hours later, I was convinced I had either intestinal worms or cancer. Worst night I’ve had in a while. Stay off the internet.”
“I know you’re right, but...”
“Can’t you just enjoy this? I mean, a baby is growing inside you. Doesn’t it count for something? If the worst happens, you will be devastated. Period. You can’t prevent the pain by worrying about it beforehand.”
She hadn’t thought of it in those terms. “So you’re saying whether I enjoy the pregnancy or worry my way through it, the outcome will be the same? And I should be thankful for each moment?”
“Yeah.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m never wrong. You know that.” His white teeth gleamed through his smile.
She’d let that one slide. “I hate feeling so...helpless. There’s nothing I can do to fix this.”
“Well, there is one thing.” He grew serious. “I mean, besides eating healthy and getting rest.”
“What?”
“I know you have a strong faith. I know you pray. When I was at Yearling, Dottie told me over and over that God hears our prayers.”
“But I don’t always like His answer.”
“This morning the preacher said you can take everything to God in prayer.”
“Do you?” She watched him carefully. He’d never been overtly religious. He’d even admitted to her he hadn’t regularly attended church in years. But it didn’t mean he lacked faith.
“No, I don’t.” He looked toward the windows.
“Why not?” Her knees started burning, so she lugged herself up and sat on the couch, keeping the crocheted baby blanket folded on her lap.
“I don’t know.” He rubbed his chin. “I guess I rely on myself.”
It made sense in a way. Wade had everything he’d ever wanted. A big house, huge ranch, oodles of property, freedom, friends—maybe he didn’t feel the need to pray.
“What about when something is out of your power to handle or fix?”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t happen very often.”
Hmm...was he missing the point? He wasn’t in control of his life. No one was. “Well, God isn’t just here for our problems. I used to only rely on Him in times of trouble, but I realized I was missing out.”
He frowned. “Missing out on what?”
“When things started going south with Cam, I relied on God more and more. I started seeing His everyday mercies. Eventually, I realized I finally had the dad I’d always wanted.”
“Dad, huh?” The confusion on Wade’s face lingered.
“Yeah, He’s my loving Father.”
“If you’re convinced He’s so loving, why are you worried?”
The question made her pause. “Life doesn’t always turn out the way we want.”
“Sometimes it does, though.”
“I know.” He didn’t get it. The rules were different for her than they were for other people. Her dreams had been crushed on a regular basis for as long as she could remember. And after the way she yelled at Cam? Well, there were consequences for her sins. “I don’t deserve it.”
“That’s silly. You do deserve it.”
“What if I’m being punished?”
“For what?”
“The things I screamed at Cam.” She choked on the last words. Why was it so hard to admit her mistakes?
“You’re not being punished. Don’t you believe in forgiveness?”
“Of course I believe in forgiveness. Jesus died on the cross and rose again for my sins. I’m forgiven.”
“Then why are you holding on to this guilt?”
“Because a sin is a sin. And I’m not holding on to guilt.” The last line didn’t come out very strong. Was that what she was doing? “I’m not. Let’s drop it.”
He stared at her thoughtfully a moment, then gestured to the box. “What else do you need for the baby?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll think about it another time.” She placed the blanket back on top of the items and closed the flaps. “Can we just sit on your patio and watch the countryside?”
“If that’s what you want.”
She did. She was tired of thinking and talking. Tired of it all.