I’m not sure what’s harder, waiting on an answer or not seeing her until she’s ready to give one.
All the waiting and pining causes sleepless nights. It’ll be worse than all those Christmases where I stayed up half the night, peeking through the gap in my curtains and hoping to spot Santa and his sleigh.
Tending to horses is a lot more taxing than opening presents, so hopefully, I get at least a little sleep. But I doubt it.
Chapter 5
Bluebonnet
Thanks to saltine crackers and ginger candies, so far today, I’ve managed to keep all my food down.
I step out of the clinic, needing some fresh air. Animals smell bad. It never bothered me before. Now, it’s more of an issue. After standing in the sun for two minutes, my skin feels like it might combust at any moment, so I retreat to a shady spot under the large oak tree.
Two squirrels chase each other around the trunk, and another is draped over a branch, clearly exhausted and out of energy. That one must be the mommy squirrel.
Seeing the worn-out mother is yet another reminder of the question I’ve been thinking about nonstop since yesterday. What am I going to say to Dumplin’? He’s wonderful. Any woman would be lucky to snag him, so that’s not a reason I’d say no. But it seems so awful to let him give up on his future happily-ever-after just because I made poor choices.
This is so hard. The idea of being a single mom terrifies me. The cabin on the ranch isn’t all that big, and while my plan was to stay a year, I never mentioned the idea of adding a tiny tenant. Beau Henry might not even be open to the idea of a baby on the ranch. And will I have a job once Dr. Monroe discovers my news? There are a couple of pearl-clutching types who might not appreciate someone like me giving their ankle-biters annual vaccines. Will they create a campaign against me?
Dumplin’ is offering to step in and be a dad to this little munchkin, and this child deserves so much better than John as a father. And I’d probably be happier living by myself than with that jerk.
He said all the right things, but his actions didn’t match. And that is what’s different with Dumplin’. He does the right things and doesn’t ask for anything in return.
And that’s why I feel like I’d be taking advantage of him if I said yes. If I weren’t such a lover of flowers, I’d get one and pluck off the petals, playing a game of marry him or don’t marry him. Then the flower can decide. But I’d feel guilty about tearing apart a pretty flower.
It would help if I had someone to talk to, but I can’t call Paisley and ask her if I should marry her brother to smooth over my trouble. And if I ask advice but leave out the names, she might be upset if her advice would have been different knowing the guy in question is Parker.
I do need to update her on what’s happening, but it can wait a bit longer. In two weeks, she’ll be in San Antonio, and I’ll tell her in person. Surely Paisley won’t hate me if I marry her brother. We’ve been friends forever. Wouldn’t sisters be even better?
Maybe saying yes isn’t such a bad idea.
* * *
By the endof the day, I’ve swung the other way and have decided that I can’t take advantage of Parker. The hard part now is figuring out how to say no.
I crawl in bed and stare at my phone, wanting to text Parker. I don’t even have anything to say, but since I’ve been pondering his question, he’s on my mind all the time. And going a full day without any communication leaves me unsettled. But that only solidifies that I’m relying on him too much.
It’ll be hard, but I can handle a child on my own.
Before setting my phone aside, I send him a text.
Me:Still thinking.
Parker sends a smiley in return.
I’m caught between not wanting to be a burden and not wanting to hurt the guy by rejecting him.
* * *
The next day,I spend every break tapping out a note, forming my answer. I’ve heard of the compliment sandwich, and that’s the format I choose. Telling him what a sweet and kind person he is seems like the best way to start. Then I’ll deliver the no, and then follow with how he’ll make some woman a wonderful husband. I’ll have to leave out the part about how I’m a wee bit jealous because I’ve never had anyone treat me so well. He’s like one of those heroes out of a romance novel.
Writing this note is making me second-guess my decision. Dumplin’ truly is one of a kind.
Before leaving the clinic, I send Parker another text.
Me:Want to meet outside the mess hall early tomorrow morning?
Parker:I’ll be there at five.
