Written in the Scars(68)

“Well?” she asks.

I press my lips together and fight to hold back tears. Even though I didn’t expect this situation, now that I’m in it, I want it. Oh, dear Lord, do I want it. I’ve never wanted anything more than this.

“Let’s look,” she whispers, laying a hand along my shoulders.

In unison, we turn. Together, we suck in a hasty breath. At the same time, we fall into each other’s arms, tears dotting our faces.

“It’s positive,” Lindsay gushes in my hair.

A reply won’t come past the sobs racking my body. My knees shake, a smile etched across my cheeks as I grab at the counter to hold myself up. I place both hands on my belly and look down.

It looks the same as it always does, Ty’s shirt hanging loosely over the round curve from the Freshman Fifteen I never lost. Still, I feel it. A sense of wonder, a feeling of fullness that it’s not just me right now. It’s . . . us.

A baby.

“I’m pregnant,” I whisper, not to anyone in particular. My head snaps up. “When was the last time I drank?”

Lindsay laughs and places her hand on my belly too. “They’ll grow up together. Just a few months apart. My girl and your boy.”

“What?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “Ty would be awesome with a boy. When are you telling him?”

I want to tell him now. I want to run to the barn and jump on him, kissing him senseless as I try to put this into words. But Jiggs is there and Cord too, and after everything . . .

My stomach flip-flops as ice water fills my veins, and I shiver at the thought of losing yet another baby.

“They’re off after tomorrow,” I say, thinking of their schedule. “They’ll be home for two days.”

“You want to wait till then? Can you manage to keep it a secret for another whole twenty-four hours?”

I imagine seeing him in bed, his early morning hair all ruffled. I’ll come in with his coffee and watch him give me his sleepy smile. I’ll climb in bed beside him and nuzzle against his solid chest and give him the news. Just the two of us.

Besides, it’ll give me time to get my head wrapped around this and to convince myself it’s going to be okay.

“I’ll try,” I say. “I really want it to be special. Maybe I’ll play a game or something, I don’t know. But I want it to be something we remember. Maybe if I do it different, we’ll have different results.”

Lindsay makes a face at my insinuation, but chooses to disregard it. “So I have to keep it a secret?” she moans instead. “I’m so bad at that!”

“Don’t you dare tell a soul. Not even Jiggs,” I warn her, my finger wagging in her face. “I mean it, Linds.”

“I won’t,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Of course I won’t. But, Elin, you’re pregnant!”

“I’m pregnant,” I whisper.

The door opens and closes, the sound echoing through the house. We look at each other as Lindsay heads for the bathroom door.

“I’ll go stall them. Clean up your face or Ty’s gonna know something is wrong,” Lindsay instructs.

“Lindsay!”

“What?” she hisses.

“You are so not moving to Florida.”

She gives me a look, one I’m not totally convinced means she’s going to stop the push for the move, but I’m too amped up to think about it. It’s a conversation for another day.

I splash some water on my face and pat it dry. Tucking the test in toilet paper, I stash it in a cabinet and make a mental note to come back and get it later.

I head down the hall, trying not to touch my stomach and not smile like the loon I feel. Everyone is standing in the kitchen when I arrive.

“You okay?” Ty asks immediately, reaching for me. His brows are pulled together.

“I’m good. Lindsay was just, um, telling me about the baby and I just got a little worked up. It’s so exciting, you know.”

I glance at my brother and he’s oblivious, devouring the rest of the brownies on the plate. But when I look at Cord, he’s grinning.

As subtly as I can, I nod. He winks, his cheeks breaking into a wide smile.

“Ready to go?” Ty asks, pulling me into his side.

I place a hand on his back, feeling his raised scar through the material of his shirt.

He’s here. I’m here. And, maybe, finally, so is our baby.





TY


Slate-colored clouds roll overhead, a low rumble of thunder noticeable every few minutes. The ground sloshes beneath my boots as I make my way to the entrance of the mine alongside Jiggs and Cord.

“Not a bad first week back,” Jiggs notes, swinging his lunchbox beside him. “We met goal. Nothing broke down—”

“And I didn’t kill Pettis,” Cord laughs.

“I reported his bullshit from last night,” I note, thinking back to twelve hours before. “No miner can go any farther than we’ve prepped for. Fucker has a death wish, and while I’m not entirely brokenhearted about that, I kinda wanna live.”

“Me too,” Jiggs snorts. “I got a kid on the way. Would like to be around to teach him how to make a jump shot like his dad.”

“Better let Uncle Ty teach him that if you want him to be the best,” I joke as I spy Pettis and Grunt up ahead. “I have a feeling Pettis is going to get fired tonight once we’re done. When I reported him this morning, Percora said he’d take care of it. You know what it’ll look like if something goes wrong right after we re-open.”