Page 29 of A Baby for the Billionaire Cowboy

Rhonda shrugged. “Women were tougher back then.”

Daisy didn’t have an argument for that. It was actually kind of nice to have older women around, ones who pampered her and treated her as precious. She’d tolerate the unasked-for advice.

Maybe she should contact her mother. It wasn’t fair to keep her from the birth of her grandchild. This was something the two of them should be sharing. Surely now, after Daisy had been gone several months, her mother would understand that Daisy wasn’t going to reconcile with William. She’d landed on her feet and was doing fine for herself.

She should call. Or maybe just message. Daisy wasn’t sure she was up for a phone conversation, after the stress she’d already had that day.

While the older women caught up on gossip, Daisy pulled out her phone to check the muted conversations. She had about a hundred messages just from her mother. She scrolled through annoyance, anger, and recriminations, without an ounce of understanding of Daisy’s choices.

Maybe having her mother there wouldn’t help after all.

Daisy jumped to the end of the messages to see if anything had changed. The last one said, “What were you doing with him? You had a perfectly good fiancé here, and you ran off to throw yourself at one of those men? You should be ashamed.”

Daisy read the message three times. Her mother must have seen the video of her and Xander or read the gossip afterward. At least she wasn’t pressuring Daisy to snag one of the billionaire bachelor brothers so she could make the whole family rich. No, her mother was traditional. She’d rather see Daisy forever tied to the man who had manipulated her into getting pregnant and groomed her for the marriage he wanted. Daisy carried his seed, and that was all that mattered.

“You all right, sugar?” Bernajean asked. “You need anything?”

Daisy put away her phone. “No. I’m fine. I’m just fine, and I already have everything I need.”

Chapter Thirteen

Xander woke inthe night. Something had dragged him out of sleep. Rain drummed on the roof, which was unusual for Texas Hill Country in November, but not unheard of. Cities closer to the coast were dealing with a hurricane.

It had been raining since early afternoon, so the sound wouldn’t have disturbed him. Maybe a close crack of thunder. But he had the vague sense that something was wrong. He swung his legs around to sit on the side of the bed and rubbed his face. He didn’t have any animals in quarantine in his bedroom at the moment, and the rambunctious kittens were closed into the bathroom at night. So what had pulled him out of sleep?

A cry of pain came from the hallway.

Xander shot to his feet. He dodged around the end of his bed and found the door handle in the dark with the ease of long practice. He stepped into the dark hallway.

Daisy stood a few feet away, hunched forward, hands on her belly.

“What’s wrong?” Xander slid his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him, panting. His brain caught up. “Sorry, stupid question. Are you in labor? Real labor?”

“I think so.” She touched his chest, her fingers cool on his bare skin. “Oh!” She pulled her hand away.

“Uh, sorry. I didn’t think.” He slept in boxers, because he rarely got cold. If he had to work with sick or fussy animals in the night, he pulled on a T-shirt. If it got dirty, he could toss it in the laundry before going back to bed. “I should’ve grabbed a robe.”

“Least of my concerns right now,” she muttered.

“Of course.” His mind raced, but his thoughts bounced around like the ball in a pinball machine. He’d had plenty of experience with emergencies in the night, including births. He should be calmer, more organized, giving Daisy the help and support she needed. Instead, he felt as frazzled as any man wishing he could take the burden off the pregnant woman he cared about.

“How far apart are the contractions?” he asked.

“I think about eight minutes, but I’m having trouble concentrating for some reason.” She made a sound that was probably an attempt at a laugh. “I keep forgetting to check the clock when the next one starts.”

“Okay. Have you called the doula?”

“Not yet.” She took a moment to pant like a runner at the end of her race. “I don’t want to disturb her in the middle of the night. I can wait until the contractions are five minutes apart.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind if you call. It’s her job.”

Lightning lit up the end of the hallway like a strobe, and thunder cracked no more than a second later. Daisy yelped and clung to Xander.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s okay. Just a storm. It can’t touch you.”

She nodded rapidly, her soft hair tickling his shoulder. “I know.” She gulped. “What if the doula can’t get here?”

Xander took a deep breath. Time to take care of things. “Let’s get you into the living room.” He led her that way. He didn’t want to let go of her, but he had things to do. He found her hand and squeezed. “I’ll be right back. I’ll grab my phone so we can time the contractions. You call the doula.”

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