Page 69 of Bedroom Rodeo

The fruit hung in heavy bunches, not quite ripe but well on the way. Even more enchanted, she moved through the groupings of pots that housed fruits and vegetables and even lush flowers with bright blooms that she never expected to see here.

Brushing her fingertip along the petals of a crimson poppy, she realized that she’d seen a few flowers scattered in vases around the dining hall. This must be where they got them.

Finally satisfied with her exploration, she settled in a long teak deck chair by the pool. It was plenty warm inside. Her emotions caught up to her, and coupled with the heat, her eyes started to grow heavy with fatigue.

A sound brought her eyelids back up.

Turning her head, Sylvee strained to hear. She might not have heard someone slip into the empty greenhouse, but that was definitely a human noise.

Another sniffle and a choking sound.

She sat up from her reclined position, searching for the person who was obviously making the noise. She’d heard of weeping willows, but not weeping banana trees.

The sound of a woman crying tore at her heart. Swinging her legs over the side of the chair, Sylvee abandoned thoughts of a luxurious nap in the tropical space and followed the sound.

When she spotted the woman leaning against a potting bench, concealed by banana leaves, she stopped. Did she interrupt her private cry?

The woman’s shoulders heaved forward, and she pressed her palm to her mouth to stifle more sobs. Sylvee couldn’t stand it another second.

She stepped out from between banana trees. “You don’t have to cry alone.”

The woman’s head snapped up. Two hazel eyes met hers, red and swimming with tears. More streamed down her cheeks. And her lips parted on a silent gasp.

She dropped a hand to the curve of her very obvious pregnancy.

Sylvee hurried forward. “I’m sorry I startled you.”

“I thought the place was empty. I’m sorry I disturbed you. I’ll just go!” She took a step, but Sylvee caught her arm.

The woman stilled, head bowed. A couple fat tears plunked onto the smooth cement floor.

“Don’t go. You’re upset. Come sit down by the pool. I saw a fridge in the corner. I’ll grab you a drink.”

The woman reluctantly nodded and gave a big sniff as she attempted to collect herself.

Sylvee led her to the seats and went in search of that drink. She selected a bottled water for each of them and took the seat next to the woman’s.

She handed her the water. “I’m Sylvee.”

“I’m Avril.” Her voice came out thready. She popped the cap of her water and sipped.

Sylvee did the same, though she wished it was half filled with vodka—something told her she’d need it to get through this talk as much as the last one.

“I’m here to listen to anything you have to tell me. If you don’t want to talk at all, that’s okay too. We can just sit here and I’ll keep you company.”

Avril drew a gulping breath and directed her thick blonde hair behind her ear. A tiny heart-shaped stud earring glinted in the sun streaming through the ceiling. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I was taking a break too. I had a bit of an emotional morning.”

She nodded. “Me too.”

“If you don’t mind me asking…how far along are you?”

“Five months.” She curled her hand around the growing baby.

Sylvee’s own biological clock had been ringing before—loudly. Now it was blaring, a never-ending gong.

“Is everything going well with the baby?” she chanced asking.

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