Paradise Valley (Virgin River #7)(51)

Rick clicked off the phone. Then he turned it back on and replayed the message. Then replayed it again. Then listened to an older one, her voice making his eyes sting and then cloud. He missed her so much. But he couldn’t…couldn’t…couldn’t…

Yeah, sure. Like I’m going to watch you graduate, your boyfriend, with a peg leg in a pair of dorky running shoes. Get real, he thought. Then he turned off the phone and put it in his pocket.

Eight

Abby called Cameron at about three in the afternoon to say, “Don’t eat at Jack’s tonight—I’m cooking us a special dinner.”

“You got it. Can I bring anything home from the corner store?”

“Nope. I already shopped at the grocery in Fortuna. I’ve been shopping all day, buying little things for the babies. Just the essential newborn things in neutral colors until we find out the sex of the second baby. I can’t wait to show you everything.”

She was so happy, so excited, it left Cameron grinning like a schoolboy, hardly able to abide two more hours with nothing to do at the clinic. But he didn’t want to rush home and spoil Abby’s special dinner.

Still, Cameron left the clinic early and drove all the way to Grace Valley to buy her a bouquet of flowers. He made a mental note to tell Connie she might want to stock a few bouquets from time to time—he couldn’t be the only husband who wanted to surprise his wife with some flowers. Oh, that’s right! he thought with a laugh. I’m not a husband, she’s not a wife. They were just playing house. But they were playing it very well. The first thing they’d done after she moved her clothes into the closet at the cabin was drive over to Eureka and buy two cribs, a changing table and small chest of drawers. They spent some time looking at baby products online at Babies ’R’ Us so Abby could pick out what she liked and they could start a steady stream of purchasing right up to the births.

What had Abby said, that they’d probably be completely incompatible? Far from it. They moved through that tiny cabin so smoothly and with such ease, it was as if they’d lived together for years. In barely two weeks, they were becoming good friends, almost a couple. This was what he’d expected since the moment he met her, that they’d bond this way. And there was affection as well. They found plenty to talk about that had nothing to do with her pregnancy or the twins and had become comfortable enough in each other’s company for the casual touching of hands, arms, shoulders; there was even an occasional kiss on the brow or cheek. At first it was Cameron, giving her that avuncular peck, but soon it was Abby, also, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek.

The only thing that could make him happier would be if they could become a real family—husband, wife and kids. This was still in its infancy and Abby needed time. But she liked him, he knew she did. She couldn’t keep it secret. She liked him, depended on him, respected him. It was going in the right direction.

He walked into the cabin to see pots on the stove, the makings of a salad in progress scattered around the counter, and Abby’s feet hoisted up on the arm of the sofa. He leaned over the back of the sofa and looked down at her. “You all right?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Well, my ankles got bigger and bigger all day, and while I was making dinner my back started to kill me. Then I had a contraction! I felt it! It was big and long. So I stopped what I was doing and just laid down. And I’ve had a few more since.”

“Good call, getting off your feet,” he said. He tossed the flowers on the counter and went around to the front of the couch and sat on the trunk. “You probably overdid it today, got a little dehydrated—that can bring on the Braxton Hicks. You’re carrying a big load for a full day of shopping.”

“I feel like an elephant. And I could hardly stand up anymore.”

“How’s your back now?”

“It’s okay, lying down. But, Cameron, I have to make it at least six more weeks and I’m not sure I can expand any more without exploding.”

“You’d be surprised,” he said, opening his bag on the floor beside the sofa. “I’m going to take your blood pressure, just to see where you are, but I bet you were just on your feet too long today. You’re probably going to have to watch that. And roll onto your left side for me—try not to lie flat on your back like that. It distresses the babies sometimes.” He fit the digital cuff around her wrist and held her wrist across her heart for a more accurate reading. When it beeped, he looked at the little screen. “It’s just up a little. But your heart is racing. Calm down, everything is all right.”

She got tears in her eyes. “What if I go into labor too early? What if something goes wrong?”

“Okay, honey, listen. If you’re earlier than thirty-five weeks, we’ll airlift you to Redding to have a neonatal ICU available in case we need it, but there’s no indication that’s going to happen. You’re in perfect health, but you’re very pregnant and your body is going to let you know when you need more rest and relaxation. And you have to keep up the fluids. You should start lying down on your left side for twenty minutes or so every couple of hours to keep the swelling under control and give your body a chance to rejuvenate. That’s not going to be too hard to do.”

“It sounds dreadful,” she said. “Highly inconvenient.”