Shit.
I’d promised. Even if it was stupid. And it was.
I’m not the kind of man who goes back on a promise.
Besides, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see her.
It’s been three days since Anna drove away from Rock Creek.
Three days since my hands had been on her bare thigh, tending to her wound.
Three days since every waking thought had been of her and her smooth, soft skin. The way she’d heated under my touch. The little gasp she’d made that had nothing to do with the cut and everything to do with my fingers on her skin.
A sharp whiney cuts through the air and pulls me from my thoughts and back to the moment.
Oatmeal.
Without any further internal debate, I pull my phone from my pocket and press her number.
She answers on the first ring.
“Wyatt?”
“It’s time. She’s in labor.”
“I’ll be right?—”
“The storm,” I stop her.
“I’m on my way.” I suck in a breath, but before I can protest, she adds, “Don’t try to stop me, Wyatt.”
I can’t help the grin that twists up my lips. She’s passionate without a doubt.
“Be safe, Anna,” I say instead.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
The call ends before I can add anything else.
I spend the next thirty minutes watching over the laboring mare. I fetch fresh water and hay in an effort to make her as comfortable as possible.
“She’s coming, girl,” I tell her more than once, although I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince.
It was reckless and selfish of me to call her, knowing there’s a bad storm brewing. I have no idea how bad the roads will be already. Or how much experience Anna has driving in winter conditions, and I’m just about to grab my truck keys to go in search of her when I hear the squeal of the barn doors.
I spin around to see Anna, shrugging out of her coat and moving quickly toward me.
“How is she?”
I don’t have time to answer as she moves into the stall and drops to her knees next to the horse.
“She’s close.”
I nod.
“She’s doing really well.” I reach out and stroke the mare’s bulging stomach as Anna looks her over. “Aren’t you, girl?”
Oatmeal nudges her nose into my shoulder, and I scratch between her eyes for a moment before looking down at the woman next to me. And the most unexpected sense of calm washes over me as I watch her capable hands move over the horse.
