Silence stretched between them as he studied his shoes.
"I brought us dinner," Mayva pressed on. "It's just chicken fingers and french fries, but the diner closed early on account of the ice and Briney's was the only place open this late. He said he'll stop by to check on Farrah after he closes up. He's real worried."
"Thanks," he said, taking the offered meal with as much of a smile as he could muster. He could respect a person who owned up to their mistakes, and as long as she was sincere, which she seemed to be, she was okay by him.
By the time Dr. Janson returned with an update, the others had gone home. Aanon sat watching a news report on the waiting room television with the volume off.
The smile on the doctor's face settled something ugly inside of him. "She's okay to go home. We stopped the labor hours ago but didn't want to get your hopes up. As long as she takes it easy, she and the baby should be all right. Are you going to take responsibility for taking care of her after she checks out?"
"Of course." He'd do anything to keep her safe and healthy. The smile that crept to his face at the relief was unavoidable.
"She has one cracked rib for sure, possibly two, but we can't tell without x-rays. We don't want to take them while she's pregnant if we can avoid it. Now, I've taped her up, but there's not really much more we can do for her other than manage the pain. It should be nice and healed up by the time she delivers, full-term if we're lucky." He sat in the chair next to Aanon and handed him a packet of information. "Here's instructions on what to do if the contractions start up again. I think we're out of the woods, but this is just a precaution. She's to rest up for the next few weeks. I know she's been helping you with your place, but she can't do any kind of physical work until we're sure she's not going to have a repeat of today. If she has pain, use children's Tylenol. Here's a sample, but maybe pick up some more from the pharmacy tomorrow. No high dose stuff because of the baby, okay? She's going to be bruised from head to toe over the next few days, and sore, too, so make sure she's not overexerting herself. Pain means she's doing too much." Dr. Janson gripped his shoulder and shook it gently. "She protected her belly well, and you did good getting her here as fast as you did. It may have saved that little baby's life. Keep her away from the cows, all right?"
Dr. Janson offered his hand to shake, and Aanon gripped it in relief.
Meryl wheeled Farrah into the waiting room just as the doctor took his leave. She looked pale and shaken, but a tremulous smile that curved her lips was all it took to lift the rest of the fear he'd been carrying.
She was all right.
Chapter Seventeen
Farrah had longed to see Aanon as the hours had passed in the clinic room. Dr. Janson had told her he didn't want her excited until they knew for sure the labor had stopped, so she'd enjoyed red popsicles and watched reruns of I Love Lucy.
Even if they weren't allowed to talk or be around each other, the circumstance had been extreme, and she had been borderline wild for his comfort. He had a way of making her feel like everything would work out when he was around.
He stood frozen, his jacket dangling from his hand when Meryl wheeled her in. As soon as she gifted him a smile, it mirrored on his face, beautiful, alluring, and satisfying.
He didn't say anything, just wheeled her to the truck outside with Meryl spouting last minute instructions on preventing future pre-term labor. When she was buckled into the Chevy to the sound of the happily whining dogs tied in back, she turned to him to thank him for getting her to the doctor in time. The wrinkle of worry in his brow stopped the words, and she faced front again.
It had been so nice to ignore Erin's ultimatum for a little while, but nothing had changed for them. She and Aanon were still trapped on separate sides of the pond.
The drive was slow as it seemed he didn't want to jostle her in the least and, for that, she was grateful. Her body felt like she'd been shoved through an antique sawmill and had come out a different shape. The baby moved languidly beneath her cradling fingers. She leaned her head against the cold window. She was alive and her baby safe. It was her heart that was breaking.
When the truck came to a rocking stop in front of the big house, Aanon rushed to her door before she even had the chance to open it.
Her lip trembled, and she bit it as she prepared to say goodnight. What she would give to be wrapped in the strength of his arms just to wash the day away. Instead, she handed him a strip of ultrasound photos. "It's a girl." Her voice dipped low. "She's a girl."
"A girl," he murmured, holding the photos like they were precious and studying each one. The smile on his face as he looked up from the pictures was the most stunning sight she'd ever seen. "You're having a girl," he said, louder.
A bubble of excitement took her, and she clenched her hands in front of her stomach to repress the squeal of joy that threatened to wrench from her throat. "Yes, Dr. Janson said he's ninety-eight percent sure it's a girl. She was moving the whole time, and her vitals are completely normal. Doctor said she wasn't under any stress. It was just me they had to take care of."
"A little girl," he repeated, in a soft, reverent voice. "She's already beautiful, just like her momma."
If the moon weren't full and illuminating the entire clearing, she could have done it by her inner glow from that compliment.
Heart hammering against her ribcage painfully, she struggled to draw breath and lowered her eyes. "I love you, Aanon." She couldn't help the words any more than she could help the weather. The two were simply beyond her control. Scared he'd disappear, she stared at the snow dusted hem of his jeans.
He placed a finger under her chin, slow and gentle, lifting until her eyes met his. "I love you, too."
"What a mess we've found ourselves in, huh?" She laughed, but a pair of warm tears streaked down her cheeks.
The pad of his thumb brushed them away, and he leaned in until his lips pressed hers. "Messy love is the best kind."
"Can I just … spend time with you tonight? I know tomorrow it'll change, and we'll have to ignore each other again, but I just want one night where this doesn't hurt."
"It won't change tomorrow. I'm going to figure something out. Tonight, I want you sleeping in my bed, beside me. I won't be able to sleep unless I know you're okay and, dammit, I miss the feel of you near me."
She waited for the rush of nerves to settle. "Okay."
He led her by the hand and helped her up the porch steps before opening the door. The dogs rushed by her legs, and she laughed as Luna and Bruno piled onto a giant dog bed near the stove.
The big house opened to a living room off the kitchen, and between the two sat the antique stove. Aanon fed logs into it and started a fire as she brushed her fingertips over the worn paperbacks that decorated the bookshelf near the front window. It seemed Aanon liked adventure novels.
"I'm not very sleepy," she admitted.
"Good, I'm starving. Mayva brought dinner but I couldn't do more than pick at it, and Ben ended up eating the rest."
"Mayva was there?"
"Yeah, along with half the danged town. All those people shoved into the waiting room." He shook his head and closed the stove door. "It was downright suffocating. Mayva's real sorry for how she treated you, by the way."
"So she doesn't think I'm a skank anymore?"
"I think you've been at least downgraded to floozy."
"Ha! Smart-ass. I'm hungry, too."
"Griddle cakes?"
"Oooh, that sounds divine. Do you have maple syrup?"
"Pshhh, you are talking to a maple syrup connoisseur. I have three different flavors."
"There's different flavors?"
"Oh, you better believe it. Sit on down in that chair closest to the heat, and I'll cook."
"Aanon?" she said quietly as he pulled ingredients. "Thank you for getting me to Dr. Janson like you did."
The color of his eyes was shielded, his expression almost shy as he gripped a bowl he'd pulled from a cabinet. "Doc said you did well protecting the baby when 417 was after you. We make a good team," he said with the ghost of a smile.
"We do."
If griddle cakes were served in heaven, they'd use Aanon's recipe. Slathered in butter and syrup, every mouthful burst with rich flavor.
"My mom used to make these for me and Dad on Saturday mornings," Aanon said as he set a glass of milk in front of her and took the seat across the table.