“You could say that,” he mutters, dodging the question.

“Oh yeah, I think Dad mentioned something about you and the swim team and having his brother fired. Boy, you really don’t fool around, do you? I guess you learned from the best.” I give him a wink, letting him off the hook for now.

But he knows I have leverage on him and I intend to use it if he gets out of line again. I just wish he didn’t always go for the jugular instead of stepping back and counting to ten. He’s too impulsive for his own good, and he’s going to pay for that someday. He just better not cross me in the meantime. I need to keep him on his toes and not get lulled into taking him for granted. We nearly got into a shitload of trouble when Will exposed that fake newspaper story we’d concocted all to protect his ass. He better not force me to go out on a limb for him again because I won’t. From now on, I’ll let Ryan clean up his own messes.

“Are we done?” he asks sullenly, getting to his feet.

“Oh yeah, we’re done.” My eyes pierce his, sending him a clear message of who’s in charge.

He shuffles out of my office, purposely dragging his feet. I close my eyes and sigh. What a loser.

But I have more important things to think about, like getting myself over to Eric’s house.

Eric

God, does it feel good to wake up in my own bed.

I stretch carefully, not wanting to disturb Ivy. I watch as the sunlight catches her hair that’s sprawled across my chest. I soak in these precious moments, listening to the rise and fall of her every breath. She’s back in my arms. Catastrophe diverted—for now.

Ever so slowly, I sit up and run my hand under the covers. The sheet is warm from her body, but I don’t feel anything amiss. Hopefully it means the bleeding has stopped. I’ll have to ask her for sure when she gets up, but so far, so good. Maybe we can begin to put this episode behind us and start focusing on the positive. We have a baby on the way. We should be excited, not scared to death.

As much as I don’t want her to wake up alone after such a traumatic night, I have to get going. The garden center needs me. I have a lot to catch up on. It’s bound to be a crazy day, and I can’t waste a minute of it. Groaning as my skin comes in contact with the chilly morning air, I hurriedly toss a wrinkled sweatshirt over my boxers and root through the closet for a pair of jeans. The laundry was backed up before I left. I should really throw a load in before I head out. I don’t want Ivy to have to worry about it. She needs to stay in bed.

I make my way softly down the steps with Shep at my heels. I open the door to let him out, surprised to see a thick frost covering the ground. I have to warm this place up. I glance over at the woodpile and there are only a few logs left. I’ll have to refill it before I leave. There’s just so much extra stuff I have to do now that Ivy’s on bed rest. I hope I can keep up with it all. I’ve lived here by myself for so long, but I really got used to her handling most of the household chores. It’s nice having a partner to balance things out. But I’ll just have to pick up the slack until she’s back on her feet.

Quietly, I arrange the wood in the fireplace before setting it ablaze. I gaze into the flames. I was planning on taking Ivy to the Hideaway Cliffs this weekend, but it doesn’t look like that’ll be happening anytime soon. Her condition is still too iffy to be carting her around the countryside. She could start bleeding again and we’d be miles away from the hospital. It’s better if we stay close to home. At least Doc’s in town if we need him.

I’m tempted to bring in the crib and place it at the bottom of the bed for Ivy to find when she gets up. But I really want to be there to catch the look on her face when she sees it. I can picture her examining every inch of it, pointing out all of the hand-carved details I already know by heart. Hearing her ‘ooh and aah’ over the crib would be like experiencing it for the first time through her eyes. Her reaction was the only thing I thought about as I spent hours and hours making it as perfect as I possibly could for our baby.

And I don’t want to upset her either. Things are still on the fence. Maybe it’s best to get through her first week home and make sure everything’s okay. If something does happen—God, I don’t even want to think about it—the crib will turn into a painful reminder of our loss and not the fulfillment of the promise it was meant to be. She’ll want to destroy it, just like I did, and try to erase the heartache from our lives. But I’m not giving up on this baby—not yet. And neither should she. It’s already proven to be a survivor. Our child is determined to come into this world, and I want to be there to welcome it when it does.

I hear Shep scratching at the door, begging to be let in from the cold. His insistence jolts me out of my head and back into reality. I better get a move on if I’m going to provide for this baby. I have a lot of ground I need to cover before it gets here in April, and I want to be ready. There’s no time to waste.

The last thing I want to think about is losing it all if Ivy doesn’t comply with Lauren’s demands. I had a lengthy conversation with Will on the plane when Ivy fell asleep during the last two hours of the flight. He knows what I’m expecting from him in terms of managing Lauren and keeping up with the workload. Ivy’s not to be overtaxed or overburdened in any way. He’s prepared to handle the bulk of the project while seeking Ivy’s creative input when he needs it. He briefly alluded that Lauren wanted to sensationalize Cassidy’s story but clammed up when I pressed him for details. He said it would be better if I had Ivy explain it to me, whatever that means. It doesn’t sound too promising. That’s a conversation I’d rather save for another day.

When I open the door, Shep charges in as I bend down to pick up the rolled-up copy of today’s Gazette. I’m about to turn around and go back inside when I hear someone’s footsteps crunching through the frost-covered grass from the back of the house. I groan inwardly. I’m not ready for my morning dose of Will yet. I hope he doesn’t think we’re going to sit down and eat breakfast together or something.

I brace myself as the footsteps round the corner and come face to face with Ben. He seems startled to see me standing there with my mouth open. For a second, we just stare at each other, totally at a loss for words.

“Ben, what are you doing here, man? Shouldn’t you be on your way to school?” I ask, peering at him against the glare of the sun.

“Uh, yeah…I was thinking of taking the day off to see if you could use some help catching up on everything.” He stumbles but quickly recovers. I almost buy it—almost. Something’s up, and it concerns some scheme of Will’s. That much is certain.

“I don’t think the school would appreciate you playing hooky on my account. I don’t need a truant officer busting my ass over the star quarterback not being able to play in Friday night’s game.” I tuck the paper under my arm, feeling him out.

“Do you really think it matters?” he asks, grinning like the joke is on me. “I have what you would call ‘special privileges.’”

I hate the smug look that’s plastered all over his face. He probably can do whatever he wants and get away with it. A sports hero like him is revered in this town. No one’s going to stop him if he feels like skipping class. More power to him is the general attitude. I’m torn because I could really use his help today, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of going along with his whims like everyone else.

“What’s going on? Did I miss something?” Will comes jogging around the side of the house, the wind at his heels. “Ben stopped by to see if I needed a lift to the garden center. I didn’t think Ivy would be up to working today, so I thought I’d make myself useful.”