Angel's Rest (32 page)

“Doormat has never been a good look for you,” Sarah replied, and Nic smirked in agreement.

Ali cleared her throat, then observed, “One of my husband’s friends lost his wife to breast cancer after they’d been very happily married for twenty years. He told me that letting go of her was brutal, but once he’d done that, he found a special joy in discovering an equally happy relationship with another woman. He said that once he was able to commit himself to someone new, his life was richer because he had a new appreciation for life and love that made him determined to enjoy every minute of it.”

“He sounds like a great guy,” Sarah said. “Why can’t I meet a guy like that?”

“He is a great guy,” Ali replied. “And you shouldn’t give up, Sarah. Who knows, your great guy could walk into the Trading Post this afternoon.” To Nic, she added, “I can see Gabe being like my husband’s friend.”

“Me too. Gabe is a good guy, he really is. Oh, he can be a pain, don’t get me wrong, but I am more hopeful today than I’ve been in … well … since the stick turned blue.”

Sarah’s teeth tugged at her bottom lip. “I hope you’re right, Nic. I just …”

“What?”

“Never mind. I should keep my mouth shut.”

“Yeah, right. Like when has that ever happened?” When Sarah scowled at her, Nic said, “Really, Sarah. I trust your instincts. I want to hear what you have to say.”

“Okay. But don’t get mad.” Sarah sipped her tea, then said, “My fear is that you’re setting yourself up for him to break your heart. I’m afraid you will always be second-best with him, and I just can’t see you going through life as a consolation prize. You deserve better.”

“Ouch,” Ali said.

“You’re right. I do deserve better and I won’t hold on forever. I have too much pride for that. At some point the man will have to fish or cut bait. He’ll have to make room for me in his heart, not just in his bed.”

“So do you have a time period in mind, some cut-off date? And I mean that exactly like it sounds.”

“I’ve given him until the babies are six months old to make up his mind. I won’t allow him to drag his feet any longer than that. I’m trying to maintain my patience and faith. Frankly, I am making the man happy whether he wants to admit it or not. I have to believe that once he gets past the pain, he’ll want the joy he had before and he’ll let me, let us”—she patted her baby bump—“in. You’ve seen how he is with Tiger. He talks a good game, but then he slips the dog table scraps. Do you really think he’ll be able to hold out against us?”

“As long as he gives you more than table scraps,” Sarah said.

“Oh, that is so true,” Ali agreed, her voice ringing with conviction. “A woman should never put up with table scraps.”

Sarah shrugged. “Well, you make a good point. When it comes to the men in their lives, women shouldn’t settle. Nic knows it. I just don’t want her to forget it. She needs to think about her marriage like she does Mexican food.”

“Mexican food?” Ali asked.

“We love Mexican food,” Nic explained.

“And Nic deserves the whole enchilada.” Sarah picked up her pen and grabbed her notebook. “Okay, enough about you. Let’s talk Lori and the perfect birthday party thrown by the perfect mother.”

“Not to mention,” Nic said, her heart filled with love, “the perfect friends.”

Summer arrived with the influx of seasonal residents and a glorious trickle of tourists. The pace of life picked up as gift shops and restaurants opened their doors and all businesses extended their hours of operation. Between the return of the season and the spending by a constant parade of contractors working long hours at Angel’s Rest, the citizens of Eternity Springs enjoyed an unusually loud jingle in their pockets.

Then the second week of June a once-in-a-generation weather system moved in over the Colorado Rockies and parked for days, dumping rain and causing significant flooding throughout the state. Eternity Springs fared better than many areas of Colorado, though early Wednesday morning Angel Creek did top its banks and only concerted sandbagging effort by townspeople along with good design on Gabe’s part saved the hot springs garden from destruction. By Wednesday evening the creek returned to its banks and everyone breathed more easily while keeping a sharp eye on both the sky and radar reports.

Nic ended a busy day at the clinic: she’d released a canine heartworm patient, spayed two cats, and performed emergency surgery on the broken leg of a mountain lion kit rescued from the creek by the Cartwright boys. As she paused in the doorway of her clinic to open her umbrella, she hesitated. Something felt
strange. Wrong. She set down her umbrella and made another round of the clinic looking for something, anything, out of place, but nothing stuck out. “Guess the rain is spooking me,” she murmured to herself. Ordinarily this time of year, rain came from thunderstorms that moved through the valley quickly, not this dreary, steady rain that didn’t stop.

She stepped outside and stayed on the path to take the long way to the house rather than step across the sodden yard to her back door. Once inside, she showered and changed into warm, dry clothes. She put chicken in the oven to bake and went into the living room, where she sat down to watch television and to wait for Gabe to come home.

The babies were active tonight, doing their kicking and punching thing that never failed to thrill her. At her appointment the previous week, her obstetrician had mentioned that by the time Nic was ready to deliver, she’d be tired of her status as a punching bag. Maybe Liz Marshall was right, but for the moment Nic enjoyed sitting quietly and feeling her babies’ bump.

Except tonight she continued to be plagued by a quiet sense of unease.

Gabe and Tiger arrived home just as she pulled the chicken from the oven. Over dinner, her husband caught her up on the day’s events at Angel’s Rest. “As bad as this weather is, we’re lucky it didn’t start two weeks earlier or Celeste’s grand opening might have been delayed.”

“I’m glad for that, but I do worry about other businesses in town. The tourist trade is suffering.”

“I know. I spoke with Henry Moreland today. He said the Double R has canceled their trail rides for the rest of the week. Even if the forecast proves true and the rain clears out tomorrow, they need three days of sunshine
for things to dry out enough so that the rides won’t tear up the trail.”

“Will the grounds at Angel’s Rest be okay for the birthday party Saturday?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he replied.

“Good. I think—” She broke off abruptly and grimaced as she shifted in her seat to ease an ache in her back.

“You okay?” Gabe asked.

“Yeah. I think I tweaked my back bending over earlier.”

He frowned at her. “You need to be more careful.”

“I think my muscles are stretching—everything is out of whack.”

Nic thought about that moment later as she prepared for bed and realized that the nagging backache, though mild, hadn’t gone away despite the doctor-ordered stretching exercises and a doctor-approved painkiller. For the first time she felt a moment of concern.

She snapped her fingers. “I forgot to email Sage the punch recipe for tomorrow. I’ll be right back.”

Already in bed, worn out from a long day doing physical labor in the rain, Gabe didn’t lift his head as he grunted into his pillow.

“I’m being silly,” she murmured to herself as she sat down at the computer and opened the browser. She went to her favorite pregnancy website and started reading. Five minutes later, filled with unease, she drank a large glass of water, then went to bed. Lying tilted toward her left side, she rested her hands at the top of her uterus and concentrated on detecting any and all sensations.

Minutes passed without anything unusual or alarming taking place, and Nic began to relax. At some point, Gabe rolled toward her, threw an arm around her, and pulled her against him. As he snored softly into her ear,
she smiled into the darkness. He made her feel protected and secure.

A quarter hour ticked by, then a half, and finally, a full hour.
Nothing is wrong. I’m imagining everything. First time being pregnant and I’m clueless and fretting over nothing. A backache by itself isn’t reason for concern. Go to sleep. You’ll be better in the morning. Everything will be better after a good night’s sleep
.

As the constant rain beat a staccato rhythm on her roof, she snuggled up against Gabe, said a prayer for all her loved ones, and willed herself to sleep. Downstairs, the Westminster chime of the mantel clock in the parlor chimed midnight.

Gabe awoke abruptly and blinked into the darkness. All his senses went on alert. Something was wrong.

He felt the bed beside him. Nic lay there, soft, warm, and asleep. So what had woken him up? A sound that didn’t belong? It was raining so hard it all but drowned out other sounds. He sniffed the air, thinking fire, but noted nothing except the subtle, sexy fragrance of Nic’s peaches-and-spice lotion.

Then … a touch. A brush against his arm.

A paw.

Oh, for crying out loud
. Sighing, he threw off the covers and sat up. He could barely make out the dog’s form in the darkness. Stupid dog. Gabe had put him out before they’d gone to bed. Softly, so as not to wake his wife, he said, “I ought to let you out and leave you out.”

Wearing only his boxers, Gabe trod sleepily downstairs. Halfway down, he realized the dog hadn’t followed him. “What now?” he muttered. Then, in a voice just above a whisper, he called, “Hey, dog. C’mon.”

Still nothing.

“Grrr,” Gabe grumbled. He trudged back upstairs and reentered his bedroom. What was wrong with the
mutt? For a dog, he was relatively smart. It wasn’t like him to do something—

“Ouch!” Gabe yelped as his bare foot came down on something sharp on the floor.

“Gabe?” Nic asked, sitting up in bed and switching on the lamp. “What’s wrong?”

“I stepped on … a stapler? How did that get in the middle of the floor?”

“Oh, man. I was finally asleep.”

“Sorry, but I’m only partially to blame. The dog woke me up. I thought he wanted out, but apparently not. And if that weren’t enough, he dragged the stapler off the desk and dropped it in the middle of the doorway, where I’d step on it.”

“Tiger wouldn’t do that,” Nic protested. “Look, he’s curled up in his bed sound asleep. You must have been dreaming.”

“That dog shouldn’t be sleeping in here anyway. He snores.”

“Well, yes, but so do you.” With that, Nic threw off the bedcovers and padded into the master bathroom.

Gabe scowled down at the dog. He had plenty of places to sleep—Nic had dog beds scattered in almost every room in the house. “It’s about time I assert myself as the alpha dog in the pack,” Gabe declared. From now on, the boxer would be banished from the bedroom.

As he bent over to grab the dog bed and wake the troublemaker, a frightened gasp from the bathroom distracted him. He jerked upright. “Nic?”

“Gabe, something’s wrong. I think … oh, God … Gabe, I’m having contractions.”

“What do you mean, CareFlight isn’t available?” Gabe yelled into the telephone’s receiver as he rifled through a pile of newspapers on the counter in the kitchen. Where had he left his keys?

“I’m sorry, sir. There’s been a horrible accident on the highway east of Montrose. An eighteen-wheeler hit a bus. All birds in the area are tied up there.”

“Then send someone from Colorado Springs.”

“The weather has flights grounded along the front range. I’ll send someone as soon as possible, but you need to understand it will be a couple of hours before anyone can get to you.”

“Fine.” He slammed down the phone with a curse, then turned to Nic, who was securing the boxer in his crate. “It’ll be two hours at least,” he told her. “What do we do?”

“I’m afraid to wait.” She gestured toward the kitchen table, where his keys lay in plain sight. “You’d better drive me.”

Five minutes later, they were on the road. For the first fifteen minutes of the trip, neither of them spoke. Tension was a living, breathing beast riding with them.

Nic sat with a small spiral notebook and a pencil in hand. When he noticed her writing something, he glanced at the dashboard, where the clock’s red numerals read 3:42. “Another contraction?”

“Yes.”

Damn. His natural inclination was to punch the gas pedal, but the storm, the terrain, and his own horrific history behind the wheel kept him driving at a safe speed.

“It’s probably nothing,” Nic said. “This whole thing is probably just a case of a first-time mom who doesn’t know what she’s doing. Dr. Marshall said checking me was just a precaution.”

“Uh-huh.”

They rode in silence for another twenty minutes before Gabe said in a grim tone. “Eternity Springs doesn’t need a healing center. It needs a hospital, or at the very
least a full-service medical clinic with a real staff of real doctors. If you’d had a heart attack, you’d be dead.”

“No, actually we’re well-equipped to deal with heart attacks. The town paid for EMT training for six people. The system usually works. It’s just our bad luck that I’m having this trouble while another serious medical situation is taking place under horrible weather conditions.”