Page 54 of Stay Wild Darlin’

The doctor smiled gently and looked over at Poppy. “Mom did the right thing bringing her in when she did. Trusting her gut probably saved you all a much rougher night.”

I turned to look at Poppy. She shook her head, her eyes wide like she wanted to correct the doctor, but I nodded.

Whatever she said—whatever she did—to get my baby help . . . it was fine. It was right.

“Thank you,” I breathed, my voice raw with everything I couldn’t put into words.

The doctor reached into a cabinet near the sink and handed me a small can of formula.

“This is a hypoallergenic formula. You’ll need to go into Dallas to get more—it’s not something most local stores keep on hand. This can will last until you can restock.”

Cora shifted in my arms, her tiny fingers curling into my shirt, and I exhaled a long breath.

“Thank you, Doctor,” I said quietly, clutching Cora against my chest.

“Of course. You can head out whenever you’re ready. Discharge papers are at the front, and she’s good to go.”

With that, she slipped out of the room, the door softly clicking shut behind her.

Poppy stood up without a word and started gathering their things—the diaper bag, her purse, a hospital blanket they probably wouldn’t miss.

It had taken me until morning to finally get here. Between scrambling to find a last-minute flight, calling in every favor I had to get back to Lindley, then driving across town to grab my truck . . . it felt like I’d crossed a hundred miles to walk into that room and hold my little girl.

I glanced at Poppy and saw the toll it had taken on her. She looked wrecked.

Her jeans were wrinkled, and the blouse she had on was probably the same one she’d worn when she rushed in the night before. Her lips were parted, red and dry. It was her eyes—those big, tired, worried eyes—that hit me hardest.

“Come on,” I murmured gently, brushing a hand down Cora’s back as I glanced at Poppy. “Let’s go home.”

She nodded slowly and walked wordlessly out to the car. I carefully buckled an already asleep Cora into her seat, her breaths steady, lashes resting on flushed cheeks.

Poppy tossed the diaper bag and blanket onto the seat in the back.

By the time I rounded the truck and opened the passenger door, I paused.

“Hey,” I said gently, reaching out and catching her arm before she climbed in.

She lifted her eyes to mine, and damn, even exhausted, even worn down to nothing, she was beautiful.

Without thinking, I stepped closer and wrapped her in my arms.

She didn’t hesitate. She sagged into me like she’d been holding herself up too long.

“Thank you,” I whispered as I rested my chin near her temple, trying hard not to let the emotion unravel me again. “I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been.”

She nodded against my shoulder. “Fable was here to help.”

“You did it. You handled everything when I couldn’t. When I wasn’t here.”

I held her tighter, my lips brushing the side of her head. “I didn’t think I needed a nanny. Didn’t want one, to be honest. Thought I could do it all on my own.” I let out a shaky breath. “But I didn’t get a nanny. I got you. I got a Poppy. I’m so damn grateful you were there for her.”

I pulled back and gave her a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Come on,” I said, glancing toward the truck. “Let’s get my girls home to rest.”

My girls.

That’s exactly what they were.

Two bottles of the new formula later, and Cora was a completely different baby.