She took the first annoyed swig as Maddie stepped out of the restroom.
“Hey, Maddie.”
Bodine headed over to the horsewoman. She thought Maddie looked a little pale, a little tired around the eyes despite her quick smile.
“Hi, Bo. Just back from the trail.”
“I hear. You okay? You look a little peaked.”
“I’m fine.” After waving it away, Maddie puffed out a breath. “Do you have time to sit a minute?”
“Sure I do.” Bodine gestured to one of the little tables scattered around the room. “Is everything okay? Here? At home?”
“It’s great. Really great.” Maddie, a lifetime friend, sat and pushed back the brim of the hat that sat on the chin-length swing of her sunny blond hair. “I’m pregnant.”
“You’re— Maddie! That’s great. Isn’t it great?”
“It’s great and it’s wonderful and amazing. And a little scary. Thad and I decided, why wait? We only got married last spring, and the plan was to hold off a year, maybe two. Then we said why do that? So, we dived right in.”
She laughed, then tapped Bodine’s water. “Can I have a sip of that?”
“Take it all. I’m so happy for you, Maddie. Are you feeling all right?”
“I puked three times a day the first couple months. First thing in the morning, lunchtime, and dinnertime. I get tired quicker, but the doctor says that’s how it goes. And the puking should let up altogether pretty soon—I hope to God. I guess it has, a little. Just now I was queasy, but I didn’t barf, so that’s something.”
“Thad must be doing backflips over the moon.”
“He is.”
“How far along are you?”
“Twelve weeks come Saturday.”
Bo opened her mouth, closed it again, then took the water back for another gulp. “Twelve.”
After sighing out a breath, Maddie bit her bottom lip. “I almost told you straight off, but everything says how you should wait to get through the first three months, the first trimester. We haven’t told anybody but our parents—you just have to tell them—and even then we waited until I had four weeks in.”
“You sure don’t look pregnant.”
“I’m gonna. And truth is, my jeans are so tight in the waist already, I’ve got them hooked up with a carabiner.”
“You do not!”
“I do.” To prove it, Maddie lifted up her shirt, showed Bo the little silver clip. “And look at this.”
Maddie lifted her cap, bending her head to show a good inch of brown roots bisecting the blond. “They don’t want you dyeing your hair. I’m not going to take off my hat until this baby comes, I swear. I haven’t seen my natural-born color since I was thirteen and you helped me color it with that box of Nice’n Easy.”
“And we used some to put a blond streak in my hair that ended up looking like a slice of neon pumpkin.”
“I thought it looked so cool. I’m a blonde in my heart, Bo, but I’m going to be a pregnant brunette. A fat, waddling-around, peeing-every-five-minutes brunette.”
On a laugh, Bodine passed the water back. As she drank, Maddie stroked a hand over her as-yet-invisible baby bump. “I feel different, I really do, and it’s a kind of wonder. Bodine, I’m going to be a mother.”
“You’re going to be a terrific mother.”
“I’ve got my mind set on that. But, well, there’s another thing I’m not supposed to be doing.”
“Riding.”
With a nod, Maddie drank again. “I’ve been dragging my feet there, I know. Jeez, I’ve been riding since I was a baby myself, but the doctor’s firm on it.”
“So am I. You went out on the trail today, Maddie.”
“I know it. I should’ve told Abe, but I thought I should tell you first. Then he’s talking about how I can take over for him while he’s gone this winter. I didn’t want to say because he really wants this trip, and I could just see him putting it aside.”
“He won’t put it aside, and you won’t be in the saddle until you get the all clear from your doctor. That’s it.”
Biting her lip again—a sure sign of anxiety, Maddie twisted and untwisted the cap on the water bottle. “There’s the lessons, too.”
“We’ll cover them.” She’d figure it out, Bodine thought. That’s what she did. “There’s more to the horses than riding, Maddie.”
“I know it. I already do some of the paperwork. I can groom and feed and drive the horse trailer, drive the guests to the Equestrian Center. I can—”