She went still, her chest trying to close in on itself. “I didn’t take them yet.”
“I see that.” He came over to crouch in front of her. Daniel searched her face. “You could have called. I still have the same number. I would have come to you.”
It hadn’t even occurred to her that he’d had the same number. The last time she’d needed him, he hadn’t been there for her. As much as she was at peace about her past—mostly—that rejection was always lurking there. He’d broken her trust, and she couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t do the same thing again. “I’m scared, Daniel.”
He finally reached out and touched her knee. Her good knee. “What can I do?”
How about invent a time machine and go back to make sure this never happened? She didn’t snap at him. He was asking an honest question, so she owed him an honest answer. “There’s nothing you can do. It’s already done.”
He took one of the boxes out of her hand and opened it. She had the irrational urge to snatch it out of his hands, because opening it felt like the point of no return. Daniel unfolded the instructions and scanned them. “It says here that for best results, you need to take it first thing in the morning.”
“That is how pregnancy tests usually work.”
He shot her a look. “I wouldn’t know.” Before she could say something else to make the situation worse, he pushed to his feet and offered his hand. “Come on. You’ve got to be exhausted.”
She didn’t want his pity, and she wasn’t sure she wanted his help at all. But since she’d come all this way, it was the lowest idiocy to throw a bitch fit now. So she took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He started down the hallway toward three closed doors. “Come to bed. You need to sleep.”
Everything hurt. Her head, her chest, most especially her knee. She’d spent more hours today pacing than she cared to count, and it had taken its toll. But if she said anything, Daniel would freak out, and she didn’t have it in her to dance around his guilt tonight. “Do you have a spare bedroom?” She wasn’t willing to strip herself naked for him, emotionally or otherwise. She was too raw, too overwhelmed.
His step hitched, but he changed directions, opening the door immediately to their right. “It’s not much, but there’s a futon in there.”
His bed would be more comfortable, but the thought of being in Daniel’s bed again was… Yeah, no. She’d deal with the futon. She walked into the room. “Good night.” And then she shut the door in his face. Hope slumped onto the futon, every worry and pain screaming for her attention. She dropped her head into her hands, fighting back a complete and total breakdown.
She’d worked so incredibly hard to move on with her life—she’d even thought she’d succeeded. But the second she crossed the county line, she was right back in the midst of the past she’d tried so hard to leave behind.
…
Daniel didn’t sleep. He didn’t even try to. Instead he took Ollie into the backyard and let her run. In the past month, she’d proven herself more than capable of keeping up with him, her awkward puppy form starting to hint at the dog she’d become. It wouldn’t be long before he could take her when he went out riding—after he figured out how to tone down her enthusiasm. He’d introduced her to Rita last week, and that encounter had been as memorable as it was problematic.
None of that mattered.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. Hope goddamn Moore was in his guest bedroom. He could barely wrap his mind around it. And if she was pregnant… His body went hot and cold, fight-or-flight responses kicking in. What the fuck am I going to do with a baby?
You always wanted a few of them.
Before. Not now.
The universe had the most fucked-up sense of humor. He’d learned that the hard way time and time again, and it always managed to surprise him. All he’d ever wanted when he was in his early twenties was to marry Hope, settle down in a little farmhouse, and raise a family. That dream was long gone, and yet here she was, possibly pregnant with his child and back in Devil’s Falls.
Her life is in Dallas.
If she was pregnant, she’d take his baby back there, half a state away from him.
No goddamn way. Daniel pushed to his feet and turned to face the house. It didn’t matter how much time had passed—he knew Hope and he knew how her mind worked. She’d have a plan, even if she couldn’t admit to herself that she had a plan. A plan that wouldn’t include him, not this time. Well, fuck that. He had as much a right to decide that baby’s future as she did.
He strode back into the house, fear and anger and something else entirely all tangled up inside him. He threw open the door to the guest bedroom. “If this is my baby—”
“Oh my God!” Hope screeched.
Daniel froze. Hope was sitting on the futon in her T-shirt and only a pair of underwear, her legs stretched out in front of her. The right was just as perfect as it had always been, but that wasn’t what drew his gaze. He focused on her scarred leg, on the pocked flesh and scars running from several inches down her thigh all the way to her shin. “Hope—”
“Get out!” She grabbed the blanket off the back of the futon and tossed it over the lower half of her body. “I know this is your house and all, but you don’t get to just walk in here.” Her voice was shrill and her movements jerky. If he hadn’t known how messed up over this she was, that would have more than shown him.
And I let her just close herself away so she could stew.
Idiot.
He forced himself to take a mental step back and breathe. Yelling at her wasn’t going to do anything but piss them both off, and a screaming match wasn’t going to do either of them any good. “The baby.”
“The theoretical baby.”
“Darling, you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t think pretty conclusively that there was a baby.” Every time he said those words, his gut lurched, and for the life of him he couldn’t say if it was a good thing or a bad thing. “You can’t take it away from me.”
“If it’s a baby, it’s not an it.” She clutched the blanket to her chest, glaring at him like he’d just personally insulted her.
He chose not to comment on the fact she was flip-flopping wildly right now about what she wanted. Daniel figured she was entitled. Actually, the more freaked out she acted, the calmer he felt. He could do this. It might not be planned, but he wasn’t going to spit on the chance to make amends that fate had given him.
He just needed to bring Hope around to the idea of it. Tentative plan solidifying in his mind, he crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you need from me?”
“How about some goddamn privacy?”
“If I leave, you’re just going to sit there and your mind is going to run in circles all night.” The same
thing he’d be doing. He motioned. “Come on. I think I have some tea stashed around here.” As soon as he said it, he realized she couldn’t just up and follow him. Guilt rose up and punched him in the gut. The baby thing had him so turned around, he’d actually forgotten that her leg had irreparable damage because of him. Goddamn it. It was almost enough to make him retreat, but he powered on. “If your knee is bothering you, I can carry you.”
“No.” The word came out sharp enough to cut. Hope shook her head. “You will not be carrying me anywhere, so get that idea out of your head right now. I’m more than capable of moving around on my own.”
He waited, but she didn’t move. “Did you want me to turn my back or some shit?” What if she fell over? He went cold. What if in falling she hurt the baby? Daniel took a step forward. “It’s no trouble to carry you, darling. I’ve done it enough times.”
“Touch me and lose your hand.” She still didn’t move from her place beneath the blanket, though her dark eyes were fierce. “I’m not an invalid, Daniel. I’m not some broken toy that you can cart around until it feels loved again. I’ve been like this almost longer than I was the other way. This is my reality, and I don’t need your help, and I sure as hell don’t need your pity.”
Her reality.
Again, guilt tried to choke him. He fought it down, but only barely. He couldn’t afford to let her drive him away, not when there might be a baby. “Would you like some tea or not?”
Hope shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”
Because he’d gone and fucked this up.
It struck him that he’d spent so much time fighting to distance himself from the people around him that he didn’t know how to interact with people anymore. He’d pissed Hope off when he’d only been trying to help, because he was so damn clumsy with his attempts to comfort her. It used to be second nature to reach out and pull her close. Then again, she’d been in love with him back then.