Starlight Memorial Hospital was tucked on the outskirts of town. At only two stories, it was a much smaller hospital than Trish would find in Omaha, but it appeared to be a newer addition to the town. Some of the landscaping was still dirt where grass would likely someday grow.
Allen slammed on the breaks at the entrance. “You two go. Grams is upstairs in the waiting room. Chet’s there with her, trying to keep her calm. I’m gonna park. Be right up.”
Wade practically fell out of the truck at that bit of news, Trish following closely behind, still a little taken aback that they brought her along. None of the other writers had come. They’d all gone back to the ranch under Glenda’s instruction.
They’d been waiting on the front porch to take Shadow when Wade and Trish pulled up in the ATV they’d taken to the cabin. With both ATVs parked, and Allen racing to his truck to fire it up, Marti practically helped shove Trish inside with Wade.
The elevator ride to the second floor was filled with unspoken words. But Trish couldn’t have picked the right words if she’d been given a lifetime to edit them. She glanced at Wade on the other side of the elevator. His arms were folded and he kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Wade—”
The elevator dinged and the door opened. He didn’t give her an opportunity to do anything other than follow.
They stopped at the main desk there. Trish asked, “Where’s the waiting room for the maternity ward?”
Chet practically knocked them both over when they turned into the waiting area. “Good, you’re here!” He looked back to Lina, who was pacing one of the aisles of chairs. “She might wear that carpet to the subfloor. I’m gettin’ coffee.”
Trish stood there stunned. She’d heard fewer total words from Chet during her entire ranch stay than he offered now. The poor guy seemed completely out of his comfort zone. “We got it, Chet.” Wade clapped him on the shoulder and sent him on his way to the cafeteria. “Allen’s on his way up, too. Go find something to drink.”
“Grams.” Wade went right up to her and placed two firm hands on her shoulders to stop the pacing. “What are you doing out here?”
“Didn’t want Kate to see me fretting. It won’t do her any good. Told her I needed some coffee. Her best friend is the nurse in with her now.”
Whatever Wade said to Lina next, his voice was too low to hear. But it did convince her to ease into a chair. Wade sat in the one next to her and held her hands.
“I just hope Ty makes it in time,” Lina said to Wade. “He should be here for the birth of his child!”
“He’s coming as fast as he can.”
Trish felt intrusive, hovering at the edge of the row of chairs while Wade and Lina talked only to each other. They should have left her behind at the ranch with the rest of the writers.I don’t belong here.
Slipping out of the waiting room, Trish decided to track down some coffee. Chet might eventually bring some back, but he’d had that flight look in his eyes when they arrived. The least Trish could do was keep everyone supplied with fresh coffee while they waited out the arrival of the newest Holbrook.
Again she asked at the desk, then followed signs for the cafeteria through twisting hallways and an elevator ride down. She found herself wishing she had her phone; Mindy would know what to do.
Their first kiss had been impulsive, one that could easily be blamed on being caught up in the moment under the stars. It was a romance writers’ retreat, after all, and Lina had gone to excessive lengths to make sure the atmosphere was inspirational.
But that second kiss . . . Her head was still spinning, her lips still tingling. Emotions ran rampant. It wasn’t an impulsive kiss. It was a deliberate kiss.
Spotting Chet in the back corner of the cafeteria, phone to his ear, Trish found her way to the massive coffee maker. For the first time, coffee had no appeal to her. Her stomach twisted in anxious knots. What had that second kissmeant?The morning after tomorrow, Trish would get in her little car still covered with muddy handprints and drive away.
“Grams likes it with two sugars, no creamer.”
“Hey, Chet.” Trish poured two packets into one of the two black coffees and stirred it with a straw. No one had to tell her how Wade took his coffee. Nice and boring. “You get hold of Ty?”
Chet stared at her blankly for a moment. “Was talking to someone else.” He helped himself to a Styrofoam cup and filled it with cappuccino at the machine beside the coffee.
“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a cappuccino drinker.”
“Guilty pleasure,” he said with a shrug. Trish hadn’t been able to get a good read on Chet since the first night he made an appearance at the fire pit. He appeared to be a couple of years younger than Wade. Quiet, kept to himself. But he seemed even more adverse to noise and commotion than Wade. And that was saying a lot.
“You in here hiding, too?” she asked. Anything to lighten things up.
“Not much I can do.” He looked at the ceiling, as if they could see through the floor to the maternity ward. “How’d you end up here and the other writers got left behind?”
It was a fair question. One Trish had been searching for the answer for since she hopped in the truck with Wade and Allen. “Not sure, honestly.” Her voice crackled slightly at the admission.
“Hmm.”
