Chapter 19

19

Melissa

T wo days until New Year’s Eve, and I’ve been given the green light to go into town. Darla, of course, is the designated driver, but she gives me my space to run my errands—which is a godsend because I made an appointment with Dr. Hartman, the OB-GYN at the local clinic.

But first, I desperately need a haircut, so I stop by the hair salon, thankful that Long Pine isn’t a densely populated town because there’s no one waiting.

My morning sickness is causing me trouble, but I manage to keep it under control with lemon and jasmine tea.

“I’ll stop by the post office while you get rid of your split ends,” Darla says as she drops me off outside the hair salon. Her tone is snappy. She’s not the type to easily forgive, and my transgression will take a lot more time than I had anticipated for her to get over.

“Thank you,” I reply with a faint smile. “I’ll let you know when I’m done. The doctor’s office is just up the road. I want to pop by for a new prescription as well if you don’t mind.”

“A prescription for what?” she frowns.

“Just my allergies. Nothing fancy.”

“You’ve got allergies?”

No, but I couldn’t think of anything better to mask the truth. I need to get an ultrasound and make sure the baby is okay. If I’m in good health, then so is the little one, and I can plan ahead in a more constructive way, no matter what happens next.

“Yeah, I usually get a refill from the prison pharmacy, but I’m almost out, and if we get another blizzard, the last thing you need is me sniffing and blowing my nose all the time—”

“Fine, fine, do what you gotta do. Just call when you’re done,” Darla replies and drives off.

I stand on the edge of the pavement for a while, looking around. Long Pine is not as quiet at this hour as I assumed it would be. Then again, New Year’s Eve is right around the corner and the blizzard likely kept people from shopping early.

Of course, I’ll need a good excuse not to drink that night. I hate keeping secrets and lying, but given the circumstances, I can’t add more fuel to a potentially catastrophic fire. I’m in love with them, and I want more out of this relationship, but realistically, how would that even work?

Until Jake and his stupid cartel are out of my life for good, I can’t even see the week ahead clearly, let alone the months and the years to follow. Plus, I’m still technically an inmate of Ridgeboro.

I go into the salon and fully enjoy the pampering. I walk out feeling refreshed in a way I haven’t in a long time. Prison hairdressers are just not the same as civilians.

The foot traffic has thinned in the hour I was inside, but the stores are still open, as are the cafes on both sides of the street. I can smell the cinnamon and the apple spice, the freshly brewed coffee, and the French pastries. My mouth is watering, so I stop by one of the street service windows and get myself a frothy milk and a bear claw.

I don’t see the man coming out of the café, though, and I bump into him. The milk jumps out of my takeaway cup, most of it missing the man’s pristine wool coat.

“Oh, my God, I am so sorry!” I yelp, absolutely mortified.

I almost drop my bear claw, too, but he catches it and laughs lightly, offering it to me. “It’s okay,” the man says with a subtle Spanish inflection in his voice. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you. So sorry…” I say as I reclaim my bear claw, mouth still watering.

“Hey, accidents happen,” he says, offering a warm smile.

He seems nice. Tall and good-looking, with an olive complexion and short, black-as-ink hair. His dark brown eyes search my face, and all I can do is smile back.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

He takes the paper cup off the ground and tosses it into the nearest bin. “All is well. No harm, no foul.”

“But my milk—”

“It’s a white coat. We’re cool.” He laughs again. “How about you? You okay?”

“Yes, just mortified,” I answer.

“You’re not from around here,” he says, studying me closely.

“You’re not from around here either,” I reply with a wry smile.

“No, I am not,” he laughs and offers me a hand. “I’m Ramon.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ramon,” I reply and shake his hand. He holds it for a second longer than I’m used to, firmly as his eyes narrow with twinkling curiosity. “Well, if you’re sure you’re okay, I should be going.”

“I promise you, I’m fine,” he says again with a smile.

I offer a little awkward wave and head in the direction of the doctor’s office, happily munching my bear claw along the way.

I arrive at the doctor’s office and sign in, waiting for my name to be called, thankful there was a cancellation for today so I could get an appointment.

The tech calls me back and goes through the basics before squeezing warm jelly on my stomach and moving the wand over. Suddenly, the room is filled with the sound of a rapid thumping.

“Should it be that fast?” I ask, immediately concerned.

The ultrasound tech smiles and turns the screen so I can see the tiny little bean in the middle. “Yes. Babies’ heartbeats are very fast and yours sounds perfectly healthy. Congratulations, Mama.”

I stare at the little image on the screen, no more than a blip at this point, but I feel an instant connection, an instant knowledge that I will do whatever I can to protect that little life.

After the exam is over, I head into a room and wait for the doctor to come in.

“I’m pleased to give you a clean bill of health,” Dr. Hartman says with a warm smile as he enters. “You’re right where we’d expect you to be in your first trimester and your vitals are good. Tell me, how are you feeling overall?”

“Well, the morning sickness lasts well into the afternoon some days,” I admit.

Dr. Hartman laughs lightly. “Yes, it’s not an aptly named affliction. Have you found anything that works to help ease the symptoms?”

“Yes, so far lemon and ginger tea have been lifesavers.”

“Both great options. How are you feeling emotionally? Pregnancy is a major step and can make you feel anxious.”

I nod. “I’ve suffered from panic attacks over the last few years, though, thankfully, they haven’t seemed to have gotten any worse so far. Usually, I use breathing techniques to calm down.”

“Sometimes you need a little extra help if they get bad enough. Pregnancy can increase symptoms of anxiety. I can prescribe medication you can take if needed, or you can try a natural route first to see if that helps,” Dr. Hartman offers.

“I think I’d like a natural route,” I tell him.

He starts writing options down on a piece of paper. “Chamomile is your friend. Valerian root as well. Lavender. I’m adding a few supplements you can pick up from the drug store’s holistic section as well as your prenatal vitamins. I want you to start them right away. Charlie, the pharmacist, will help you with this.”

“Thank you so much, Doctor.”

“You are most welcome, Miss Carson. I will see you again next month, and don’t forget, you have my number in case you need anything. Let’s just hope the weather won’t keep you isolated up there on the ranch.”

“I certainly hope not. Thank you again, Dr. Hartman.” I collect my paperwork and head out the door. I hurry to the pharmacy before calling Darla to pick me up.

As soon as I step out of the clinic, the cold air smacks me in the face. My lower back hurts, and my legs feel heavier than usual. I just got a clean bill of health yet I still feel so damn sluggish and worn out? I head to the pharmacy and get the supplements and prenatal vitamins I need. I shove them all deep into the bottom of my bag before I pull out my phone to call Darla.