Page 38 of Secret Baby for the Triplets

The twenty-minute drive back to Pine Sky Ranch is silent, the pitch blackness unsettling around us.

When I get inside the house, I head directly to my room and pull out my laptop, looking online for Emerson’s symptoms.

The list of potential problems during pregnancy only fuels my apprehension.

Good Lord, how do women do this to themselves?

Toby texts an hour later to inform me that Emerson has been moved into a private room. I text him back.

Me:How is she doing?

Toby:Her color is better. She’s laughing at my jokes.

Me:Call the doctor. It sounds like she’s getting worse if she thinks you’re funny.

He sends the middle finger emoji, and I smile.

Me:I’ll come and pick you up in the morning when the doctor gives the go-ahead. Tell me when.

He sends the thumbs-up emoji.

I plug my phone back in to charge, then sit back on my bed.

None of us will sleep a wink tonight, not without the answers about Emerson.

We barely know this woman, and she’s got this hold on us already. Now, with a baby, things are going to get so much more tangled, but what choice do we have but to help her?

Brock must be losing his shit right now, but I don’t know what to tell him because, frankly, I’m losing mine a bit, too.

CHAPTER10

Emerson

As grateful as I am that Toby doesn’t leave my side throughout the whole ordeal, the waves of embarrassment and worry make me want to be alone in my misery throughout the night. It’s bittersweet having him there, the reminder that I’m not alone, but that I should be, especially when he’s the reason for my predicament.

When a nurse comes by and tells him that visiting hours are over, he reminds him who he is.

“I’m Toby Collins,” he tells her without a hint of arrogance. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She stares at him like he’s sprouted a second head. In the end, he stays in an oversized reclining chair in the private room—one I still can’t believe they snagged for me.

And that’s where he stays, all night in the recliner. He doesn’t move except to get more coffee and use the bathroom.

Contrary to what Brock said about me being part of the Pine Sky crew, I wonder if they really would have done this for everyone, or if they did it because of my condition.

Toby has questions, as I’m sure they all do, but to his credit, he spends his time keeping me entertained when I’m not resting, showing me silly YouTube videos on his phone, or regaling me with stories about his time performing in rodeos.

I want to cry at his boyish charm, his concern thinly veiled through all of it. I really scared the hell out of him.

“I’m sorry you found me like that,” I tell him in the morning.

I’m more coherent now, better rested, and confident that the baby is fine. All the tests came back, and the ultrasound showed no issues.

He stands and stretches, the edge of his shirt revealing his flat and muscled stomach.

“Darlin’, all that matters is that you’re okay,” he tells me sincerely. “I’ve seen a lot of rodeo accidents in my time, but I haven’t seen anything that scared me nearly as much as that.”

“Why?” I’m surprised by his heartfelt confession.

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