The Rancher's Baby Surprise. Kat Brookes
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brother hurried back into the room, a thick pair of wool socks in hand. “These might be a little big on you, but they’ll be plenty warm.”
She reached for them. “Thank you.”
“If you haven’t already figured it out,” Garrett said as she removed her socks and pulled on the pair she’d been given, “this lanky cowboy beside me is my brother Jackson Wade. Jackson—” his introduction was cut off as Hannah let out a soft gasp. His worried gaze shot to her face. “Hannah?”
She sank back into the sofa, a hand pressed to her swollen belly. “It’s okay,” she said shakily. At least, she prayed it was.
“Another pain?” he asked with a frown.
Jackson’s gaze dropped to the blanket covering the rounded swell of her stomach and his thick brows shot upward, clearly noticing her condition for the first time since she’d been carried in. “Is that... I mean is she...?”
“Pregnant?” Garrett finished for him. “Yes. And, despite her reassurance otherwise, I think she might be in labor.” He looked down at her. “Hannah? Should I call 911?”
His brother’s eyes snapped up, some of the color leaving his tanned face. “Labor? As in, having her baby right now?”
Dear Lord, I hope not. Hannah shook her head, refusing to believe that was the case. “I don’t think there’s any need to do that. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately. And then getting caught up in that flood, well, I’m sure they’re just false labor pains. I’m not even close to my due date yet.”
Jackson looked relieved. Garrett, on the other hand, didn’t appear to be as accepting of her reply.
“We should call your husband,” Garrett said. “Let him know you and the baby are safe.”
“I’m not married,” she replied.
“I see,” he said with a quick glance at her rounded abdomen.
Warmth blossomed in her cheeks. “The baby’s not mine.” The second the words left her mouth she realized how untrue they were. The child growing inside her womb was hers now, for as long as the good Lord willed it to be.
The two men exchanged glances. Not that she blamed them. She knew how that last statement had to sound to them.
“The baby was my sister’s,” she explained, tears filling her eyes. “She and her husband had tried for so long to have a child, but she could never carry to term. So, when the doctor suggested they look into finding a gestational surrogate to carry their baby for them, I knew I wanted to do this for her.”
“Was your sister’s?” Garrett replied with a gentle query.
Her hand went protectively to her stomach as she choked out the words, “Heather and Brian died three months ago in a car accident.”
“Hannah,” Garrett groaned. “I’m so sorry.”
She brushed a stray tear from her cheek. “I’ll manage.”
“Alone?”
“Women raise children alone every day.” She ran her hand over her stomach, a knot forming in her throat. “This child is all I have left of my sister. I’ll do whatever it takes to make his life one filled with love and happiness.”
“Is there someone else we could call for you?” Jackson asked.
Her gaze dropped to the floor between them. “No.”
“No one?” Garrett pressed worriedly.
“It’s just my father and me, and he’s been really sick with a virus. Probably brought on by all the stress of dealing with my sister’s recent death,” she said. “It’s been so very hard on him. Especially since we lost my mother a little over a year past. I won’t have him worrying himself even sicker over me when I’m perfectly fine. Just carless.”
Garrett nodded in understanding, yet the worried frown remained fixed on his handsome face. “We’ll see what we can do in the morning about getting your car out of there.”
“If it’s still there,” she said with a shudder.
“Either way,” he agreed, “it’s not going to be drivable. You’ll be needing a rental car to get back to...”
“Steamboat Springs,” she supplied.
“You’re a ways from home,” Jackson said.
Hannah felt another twinge starting. Please, oh, please, make it stop. “There was something I needed to do,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm when she felt the panic washing over her. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to freshen up a little bit.” And take a moment alone to collect herself. Stress wasn’t good for the baby and she’d been under so much of it. Was it any wonder she was experiencing premature labor pains?
Jackson motioned toward the doorway. “Take a left down the hall. The bathroom will be the second door on your right. In the meantime, can I offer you something to drink?”
“I think I might have a few packets of tea left in the cupboard,” Jackson replied. “Can I fix you a cup of chamomile tea?”
“It would help to take the chill off,” she said, another sharp pinch squeezing at her abdomen. Maybe she should ask Garrett if he could drive her to the hospital once the rain slowed, just to be sure she wasn’t in true labor. “But I hate to impose on you any more than I have already.”
“You’re not imposing,” he replied. “I like having company. I’m a social butterfly, remember?” he said with a glance in Garrett’s direction, causing his brother’s mouth to quirk in a barely suppressed grin. Then he turned back to Hannah. “That being the case, I just wish we had been able to meet under better circumstances.”
She nodded. “Agreed.” When the viselike grip took hold of her stomach, Hannah fought the urge to groan aloud. Shoving aside the blanket Garrett had lent her in the truck, she made a quick adjustment to the leather strap of her purse, securing it atop her shoulder as she pushed awkwardly to her feet.
Garrett reached out to steady her.
“Thank you.”
“Do you need me to walk you down the hall?”
Shaking her head, she lifted her gaze to meet his. “There’s no need. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t think—” he began, only to be cut off by his brother.
“Why don’t we go fix that tea Hannah said she’d like to help take the chill away?”
“It doesn’t take two of us to make a cup of tea,” Garrett argued with a frown.
His younger brother arched a warning brow.
Reluctantly, Garrett stepped aside, watching worriedly as Hannah made her way past him and out of the room.
“I’ll tell you right now,” she heard him say as she walked away, “The cowboy in me doesn’t like leaving her to fend for herself in her condition. Not one little bit.”
Thank the Lord for cowboys. If not for men like Garrett Wade, she might have lost more than her own life. She would have lost the baby Heather had prayed so long for.
Garrett glanced up from where he sat at the edge of the sofa, waiting on Hannah’s return, when his brother came back into the room carrying a steaming ceramic mug.
Jackson glanced around. “Not back yet?”
“No,” he muttered with a frown, his gaze moving past his brother to the entryway.
He followed the line of Garrett’s