Page 47 of Before You Can Blink
Here goes nothing.
“We need more mares for breeding,” I began. When Daisy remained silent, I pressed forward, “And we need to bring in studs to get them pregnant.”
“Okay, then we buy the mares and bring in the studs.” She said it like it was so simple when it was anything but.
Swallowing my pride, it pained me to admit, “I don’t have the cash, Daze.”
“How much do you need?”
God, I hated asking my wife for a share of her hard-earned salary down to the very marrow in my bones. “Minimum five grand, ten to do it right.”
Dusting her hands on her skirt, she stood, easing Aspen out of my hands. “You can pull ten from our joint savings account.”
“Daisy, I can’t—”
“You can and you will.” Her sharp tone had me twisting around to find her giving me a look that told me it was no use arguing. “We didn’t move all the way out here to do this half-assed. If it helps you sleep better at night, consider it an investment in our future.” She hitched Aspen higher on her hip. “Inherfuture.”
Fuck, she knew which buttons to press. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for that little girl.
Guess I was going horse shopping.
December
I kicked my boots against the doorframe to knock the snow off them so I wouldn’t track it inside the cabin. An early-season blizzard had rolled through a few days ago, and we were finally digging our way out of it. Just in time for Christmas—Aspen’s first.
Speaking of my chubby cutie . . .
An excited squeal split the air, and I found my baby girl sitting in her playpen, extending two pudgy hands in my direction. She was a literal ball of sunshine, lighting up even my darkest days.
“Hey there, sweetheart.”
I pulled Aspen into my arms, where she promptly gripped two fistfuls of my shirt before snuggling into my chest. Her warm weight tucked against me made my heart swell. And to think, there had been a time when I’d written off the idea of having kids of my own. The man I used to be was a fool. It was terrifying to think I would have missed out on one of life’s greatest joys. The unconditional love that I shared with my daughter filled my cup to overflowing on a daily basis.
Scanning the space, I frowned when I realized Daisy was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s your mama?”
Aspen’s only response was to smack her hands together. Clapping was her newest trick, and her sweet baby laughter did nothing to diminish the fear rolling down my spine.
It wasn’t like Daisy to leave Aspen alone for more than a minute or two, whether it be to grab more firewood or hang the laundry, and usually, she only carried out those tasks when our daughter was asleep. Even still, I would have seen her outside when I arrived home.
Something wasn’t right.
“Daze!” I called out, my throat constricting.
A weak moan sounded in response, barely audible over the rush of blood roaring in my ears.
With giant strides, I covered the entire area of the twenty-by-twenty-foot cabin in a matter of seconds. Only to have my stomach bottom out when I found Daisy behind the privacy screen we’d set up to cordon off the bathroom.
She was curled up in the fetal position around the base of the toilet, dried vomit visible at the corners of her lips.
I stood there frozen, my mind only coming up with one explanation as to why she would be sick like this, and that was the last thing we could afford right now. Aspen was the light of my life, but it was no secret that we were barely scraping by.
Roughly, I cleared my throat. “Daze?”
My wife mumbled something unintelligible from her resting spot on the cold wooden floor.
“You’re not—” Swallowing down the ball of dread lodged in my throat, I asked the question I was terrified to hear the answer to. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Bug,” she rasped. “Going around class.”
