Sunlight (Haven River Ranch)

We’d been parked in front of the hospital for five minutes, and Sasha still hadn’t moved to open her door. If we waited much longer, we’d be late to the appointment. But if she needed to sit here and stare at the Pioneer Medical Center, then I’d sit here too.

I’d needed the extra five myself.

She’d scheduled this initial visit with the doctor two weeks ago. Since, she’d reminded me about it seven times. I’d figured that the moment I parked, she’d be out of the truck and speed walking inside.

But Sasha surprised me more often than not. She’d pause when I expected her to rush. She’d stay quiet when I expected a snarky reply. She’d build her walls up higher just when I thought I was beginning to break them down.

I understood her hesitation. The moment we walked through the hospital’s doors, this was real. This was happening.

We were having a baby.

“Sorry,” she murmured as she finally reached for the door. “I just needed a second.”

“Take your time.”

She gave me a small smile, then hopped out.

Here we go. Ready or not. I climbed out, too, and followed her across the lot, tucking my hands in my jeans pockets to hide their slight tremble.

Sasha wasn’t the only one freaking out. But she needed me to be steady right now. So I was saving my panicked moments for when I was alone. My anxiety had its time to shine in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep.

Could we do this? Could I be a father?

God, I wanted to talk to West. Or even Dad. They always knew what to say, but until this appointment was over, until we learned more from the doctor, I’d keep my mouth shut.

It had been the longest two weeks of my goddamn life.

I wasn’t good with secrets.

Sasha led the way through the hospital’s entrance. To the left was the emergency room. Straight ahead, the doors to the nursing home. To the right, the small local clinic where the family medicine doctors practiced.

We checked in at the reception desk, then Sasha spent ten minutes filling out forms on a clipboard while I sat in the chair beside hers, fighting the urge to bounce my knees.

“I don’t, um . . . I don’t know your birthday.” Sasha handed the paperwork over. “Can you fill out your information?”

“Sure.” I took the pen and clipboard, balancing it on a thigh as I quickly checked boxes and scribbled down my address. “November third. I’m twenty-nine.”

“I’m twenty-eight. My birthday is January first.”

“New Year’s.” Wait. She’d been working at the lodge on her birthday. “We didn’t have a party on your birthday.”

“Indya offered.” She waved it off. “I didn’t want one.”

I frowned and handed back the paperwork so she could finish.

Birthdays had become a big deal at the resort. Indya always made sure we celebrated an employee’s special day, either with cake or cookies or a dessert of choice. She’d get balloons and a card to pass around. I didn’t remember signing one for Sasha.

And birthdays had become a big deal in our family, too, ever since West and Indya had gotten married.

West always planned a party for Indya’s. She did the same for him. One or both planned something for mine. And the celebration for the twins was a massive affair, usually involving inflatable bouncy houses or a petting zoo.

Had anyone celebrated with her? Did she have any friends in town? Or had she just worked the whole day, then gone home to an empty house and an air mattress?

A fucking air mattress.

Why didn’t she have furniture? She’d been here for months before moving into the cabin. That was plenty of time to get something ordered and delivered.

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask, just like it had been for the past two weeks. But I swallowed down the questions, saving them for after this appointment. Saving them for a time when Sasha might actually answer.

She’d gone back to avoiding me over the past two weeks. I’d let her. Other than a daily stop at her office to make sure she was feeling all right, I gave her space.

I’d needed some space myself. Time to get my head wrapped around everything. I wasn’t there yet, not even close, but I was trying.

A door across from the small waiting area opened, and a nurse dressed in pink scrubs called, “Sasha Vaughn.”

She shot to her feet, the clipboard clutched to her chest.

I put my hand on the small of her back as we walked across the space to the nurse.

Sasha glanced over her shoulder to where my thumb was drawing circles on her black sweater.

If she wanted me to stop touching her, well . . . tough. There was something anchoring about having a hand on her. It was a reminder that we were figuring this out together. A reminder that if I lost my shit, she’d fall apart. And I wasn’t going to let that happen.

The nurse was older than me, probably in her forties. She gave us a kind smile as we walked through the doorway, and I sent up a silent thanks that I didn’t recognize her or the receptionist. Not that they could tell anyone, but I wanted my family to know before people around town.

When should we tell West and Indya? Wasn’t there a wait time or something? Three months or whatever?

“We’re in here.” The nurse waved us into the closest exam room, then closed the door behind us.

I sat in another stiff, uncomfortable chair while Sasha was on the table having her blood pressure and temperature taken.

When the nurse handed her a paper gown and told her to strip down to nothing, she swallowed hard.

“Want me to go?” I asked when the nurse left us alone so Sasha could change.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked,” she murmured, the tissue paper on the table crinkling as she jumped down.

Yeah, I’d seen her naked. Every glorious inch. But that was not something I needed to be thinking about right now. Not something that would make her more comfortable. So I slipped off my baseball hat and covered my face to give her a moment of privacy. “It stinks in here.”

“In this room?” The sound of rustling clothes filled the room as she started to undress. “I don’t smell anything.”

“No, in my hat. Is this what my hair smells like?”

“Jax.” Sasha let out a tiny laugh. It was my win for the day. “You don’t need to do that.”

Yes. Yes, I did.

Where Sasha was concerned, my dick seemed to have a mind of its own, so I really did need to keep my eyes covered. The last thing I needed was an erection in this sterile, cold room. And if I watched her get naked, my body would have a reaction.

“Okay, I’m done. You can stop breathing in your stinky hat.” The tissue paper crinkled again, and the exam table creaked as she resumed her spot.

I uncovered my face and found her chocolate gaze waiting.

She clutched the gown over her heart. Her knees were pressed together, and her shoulders curled in. She looked stiff and uncomfortable.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” I told her.

“I think if you weren’t here, I’d still be in the parking lot.”

“Sasha—”

Before I could finish my sentence, not that I was really even sure what I was about to say, a knock came at the door, and the doctor stepped inside.

Hers was a face I did recognize. Oh shit. My stomach splattered to my boots. Robin.

“Hi, Sasha. I’m Dr. Anderson.” She extended a hand for a shake, then turned to me, her eyes widening. “Jax?”

I gulped. “Hey, Robin.”

She looked between Sasha and me, putting the pieces together. “So you’re . . .”

“Having a baby,” I finished, doing my best to keep my expression neutral despite my racing heart. “Didn’t realize you were back in town.”

“Yes. I moved home last month when I finished my residency. Dr. Smith is retiring, and I’m taking his place.”

Did Emery know about this? If so, I was going to chew her ass for not giving me a warning.

Sasha’s forehead furrowed. Of all the things I didn’t want to explain today, the reason why I knew Sasha’s doctor was at the top of the list.

“Robin and I grew up together,” I said. It was only part of the story, but the rest would have to wait.

“We go way back.” There was an edge to Robin’s voice, but she swallowed it down and put on a polite smile before giving her undivided attention to Sasha. “Congratulations. How are you feeling?”

“Um, fine.”

“She’s been sick a little,” I said.

Robin tensed at my voice, and I had a feeling if Sasha weren’t here, she would have told me to shut the fuck up.

Sasha noticed it too. Her eyes flickered between us, trying to read that tension. She was a smart woman. She’d jump to a conclusion.

The right one.

“Nausea is normal at this stage,” Robin said. “Are you still able to eat? Keep a meal or two down every day?”

“Yes, it hasn’t been that bad.” As Sasha spoke, she kept her attention on Robin. And Robin spoke only to Sasha.

There might as well have been a curtain in the room to shut me out. Between their collective cold shoulders, I was glad I’d kept my coat on. And when Sasha had a full breast and pelvis exam, I pulled my hat over my face again.

“Everything looks great,” Robin told her when they were finished. “It might still be early, but let’s see if we can hear the heartbeat.”

Sasha’s eyes finally flicked to mine from where she was lying on the table.

I gave her a smile as my heart galloped so fast it nearly raced out of my chest.

“You can get one of these for home.” Robin squirted some gel onto Sasha’s belly, then held up a box that looked like a walkie-talkie attached to a wand. “But we’ll check the heartbeat at every appointment. Some patients find it causes more stress to try and locate it at home than just waiting for their next visit.”

“Okay.” Sasha nodded as Robin moved the wand through the gel.

There was a woosh and a bit of static, but then a heartbeat filled the room.

Luh-dub, luh-dub, luh-dub. It was fast. Steady. So incredible I couldn’t breathe past the lump in my throat.

Sasha stared at the ceiling. She swallowed hard, then looked at me again.

A thousand different emotions swirled in her pretty eyes.

Fear. Hope. Excitement. Dread. Love.

I mirrored each and every one.

“Very healthy heartbeat,” Robin said before she removed the wand.

The sound was gone too soon, and with it, Sasha blinked and tore her eyes away, once more focusing on the ceiling.

“Given the date of your last menstrual period, we’ll put your due date on October nineteenth.”

“Oh.” Sasha paled as a flash of panic crossed her face. “October nineteenth.”

Was there something wrong with October? Or was it just another detail that made the pregnancy all the more daunting?

October nineteenth. That was months away. We could do this, right? We could figure out how to become parents before this fall?

Why hadn’t I paid more attention when the twins were babies? Maybe I should start babysitting Grace. I didn’t know how to change a diaper or make a bottle.

Indya and West had spent that first week walking around like zombies because Grace didn’t sleep for more than two hours at a time. I didn’t function without sleep. They’d come home from the hospital in Bozeman and been—

Wait. “Is this a good enough hospital?”

Both Sasha and Robin looked in my direction.

“Should we be planning to have the baby in Bozeman or Billings?”

Sasha’s eyes bulged, not having considered that yet.

Robin’s narrowed into slits. “This facility is fine.”

“But most people have their babies in a bigger hospital, right?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “Some choose to go to Bozeman or Billings. If that’s your decision, I’ll be happy to coordinate with the physicians there. But we’re perfectly capable of delivering babies at Pioneer.”

Capable. But this was a small-town hospital with small-town limitations. If there was an emergency, I wanted Sasha in a larger facility. We’d plan that as we got closer to October.

“Good to know,” I said.

Robin went back to ignoring me as she reviewed a list of recommendations with Sasha. They talked everything from vitamins to diet changes to appointment scheduling. She gave Sasha instructions for urine and blood tests, then handed over a litany of pamphlets for expectant mothers. Then she held out two for me to take, dropping them into my lap before I had a chance to grab them.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

This was going to be a problem, wasn’t it? Sasha and I didn’t need more problems when we had plenty of our own. I wasn’t going to skip these appointments just because Robin was pissed at me for something that had happened a decade ago.

“Lovely to meet you, Sasha,” Robin said, then without so much as a glance in my direction, she left the room.

Fuck. It was easier to breathe with her gone.

Sasha moved quickly to get dressed and stuffed the paper gown in the trash. “What was that?”

“Not even going to wait until we’re in the truck?”

Her glare was lethal.

“Robin and I dated our senior year in high school.”

“Was it serious?”

“Sort of?” I shrugged, keeping my seat as she stood above me, fists braced on her hips. “I don’t know. We broke up freshman year at MSU. It, uh, wasn’t mutual. I hooked up with her roommate three hours after I dumped her, and she’s pretty much hated me ever since.”

“Seriously?” Sasha scrunched up her nose.

“Not my finest moment.” I raked a hand through my hair.

For the first time in my life, I regretted the casual hookups from the past. The one-night stands and the women I’d taken home from the bar. Sasha would meet others. In this town, there was no avoiding it.

“I had no idea she was back and working here,” I said.

“It’s fine.” She waved it off, going to the hooks on the wall to get her coat. “Just . . . awkward.”

“We can get another doctor.”

Sasha stayed quiet, ducking into the bathroom next door while I waited in the hallway. Then after she’d stopped at the lab to have her blood drawn, we headed for the exit.

We were three feet from making our escape when the double doors slid open.

Lily walked inside, dressed in navy scrubs, with her purse and a lunch box tucked under an arm.

Fuck my life. Wasn’t she working the night shift?

“Jax?” She did a double take when she saw me, then scanned me head to toe. “Are you okay?”

“All good.”

It was foolish to hope that she wouldn’t recognize Sasha. The moment her gaze landed on the pamphlets in Sasha’s hand, her jaw dropped. “Oh. I, um, I didn’t know.”

“No one does,” I said, my voice sharp. “And we’d like to keep it that way.”

Lily gulped. “Of course.”

My hand found the small of Sasha’s back, pressing her forward.

She arched her eyebrows as I kept pushing but, thankfully, kept walking.

“Wait. Jax?” Lily called before we reached the doors.

“What?” I glanced over my shoulder, not bothering to fully turn.

“Congratulations.”

No. This was wrong. It was all wrong. I didn’t want Lily to be the first person who knew about the baby. I didn’t want her to have anything special when it came to Sasha or my kid. I didn’t want her saying congratulations. Not before West or Indya or Dad.

Sasha slowed, giving me a sideways glance, like she expected me to say thanks.

I wasn’t saying anything. So without a word, I left them both behind and walked outside.

How well did Sasha know Lily? Did they spend time together? Were they friends the way Lily had become friends with Indya?

My lip curled as I stalked to the truck. I was sitting behind the wheel, fuming, when Sasha caught up.

“Why didn’t you have furniture?” I asked the moment she had her seat belt fastened.

“What?”

“Furniture. At the rental. Why didn’t you want furniture?”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want furniture. But I wasn’t in a hurry to spend a bunch of money when I was rarely at the house.”

“Not even a bed?”

“Beds are expensive, Jax.”

There. That was the reason. Money.

She was earning a great salary, right? Indya wasn’t the type to skimp on paying employees. Was Sasha in debt? Was she trying to pay off college loans or something?

But I’d asked my question, and I wasn’t getting another.

“What was that with Lily?”

“It’s complicated. Lily and I haven’t spoken much lately.” If lately meant most of the previous decade.

“Why?”

“Long story.” I started the truck and pulled out of the lot. “What’s wrong with October nineteenth?”

Sasha threw my own words in my face. “Long story.”

That’s how it was going to be, huh? Vague answers. Fine. If neither of us was in a mood to share, we’d listen to music. I turned up the volume on the radio, letting the latest country hits fill the silence as I drove us to the ranch.

When we reached the lodge, Sasha got out of the truck without a word. Then she disappeared inside to the safety of her office while I retreated to my own, working in the stables until dark.

The lights in the cabin cast a golden glow into the night when I finally made it home. My truck seemed to steer itself to the empty space beside Sasha’s car.

She answered the door before I had the chance to knock. She’d changed out of the jeans and sweater she’d worn earlier and into a pair of orange sweatpants and a black tank that showed the straps of her pink bra. The toothbrush was in her mouth again.

“I’m grumpy,” I warned.

She popped the toothbrush out of her mouth. “Me too.”

“Want to be grumpy together?”

Sasha shrugged.

“Come on.” I reached inside and plucked her coat from the rack. “We’re having breakfast for dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t have to eat.”

She took the toothbrush to the kitchen, leaving it on the counter, then rejoined me at the door, stepping into a pair of tennis shoes before tugging on her coat. Then she followed me outside and into the truck.

I parked in the garage and escorted her inside, taking off my boots as she did the same with her shoes before we entered the living area. “Want a tour?”

“That’s okay.” She curled into one side of my leather couch as I built a fire in the fireplace.

And when I moved to the kitchen to start on dinner, she sat on a stool at the island, watching me cook.

It should have been strange to have her here again. Maybe a bit awkward, considering she’d spent a whole five minutes here last time before I’d taken her to the bedroom. But it felt easy. Natural.

I took a chance that she was hungry. When I took the seat beside hers, I slid over a plate of pancakes with roasted strawberries before diving into my own.

Sasha picked up her fork and dived in.

“Your first breakfast for dinner?” I asked.

“Yes. This is really good,” she said as a shiver rolled over her shoulders.

I set my fork down and went to my bedroom, then returned with a hoodie.

“Thanks.” She smiled before pulling it over her head. “I get really hot when I don’t feel good. Then it passes, and I’m freezing all the time.”

The sweatshirt was three sizes too big and pooled at her wrists, but damn if I didn’t love seeing her in my clothes.

“Tell me a lie,” I said as we kept eating.

She poked at a strawberry, pushing it around her plate. “It doesn’t bother me at all that my doctor is your ex-girlfriend.”

There was jealousy there. Any other situation, and I probably would have gotten a little thrill from that envy. Except this wasn’t her being jealous about a former girlfriend and claiming me as hers. Sasha was uncomfortable. And that was not okay.

“We’ll get another doctor. I can, uh, ask Lily for recommendations.” The last phone call I wanted to make, but I’d make it.

“Are you sure? I can ask around too.”

“We don’t have a great relationship, but she’s worked at the hospital for ages. She’ll recommend the best doctor.”

“Thank you.”

“Sure.” I ate another bite, taking a moment to sort out exactly how to explain this. “About Lily.”

“Jax, we don’t have to talk about this.”

“No, you should know.” I wiped my mouth and swiveled sideways to face her. “Lily’s the closest thing I’ve got to a mom. When I was little, she did everything a mother would do. Taught me how to tell my left boot from my right. Made me breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Read me books, and tucked me in at night. But if I called her Mommy, she’d correct me. She’d tell me to call her Lily.”

Sasha’s forehead furrowed. “Really? How old were you?”

“Two. Three. Four. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t call her Lily. It was just her name. West called her Mom. I called her Lily.”

And maybe if she hadn’t done everything else, if she hadn’t treated us the same in every other way, it wouldn’t have bothered me.

“She hugged me. Teased me. Scolded me. After she and Dad got divorced, she’d come visit and check up on me. West stayed at her place in town more often, but I was mostly here on the ranch. Not always, but usually. If I had a late-night practice after school and the roads were bad, I’d stay at her place with West. She’d cheer me on at my football games and help with the fundraisers at school. Most people assumed she was my mom. That was the role she played. It was what we both let people believe. Until I realized it wasn’t enough.”

I didn’t want to pretend that Lily was my mother. I didn’t like having to explain to my friends why I called her Lily—or dodge the question entirely. I was tired of wondering why she couldn’t just love me.

“Before I left for college, we got into a fight. I told her she could either be in or out. Told her I was either enough of a son that she could fucking act like it and let me call her Mom. Or I was done.”

Looking back, the whole fight had been impulsive. She’d asked me out for dinner to spend an evening together before I left for Bozeman. But we’d bumped into one of my friends and his parents as we were leaving the restaurant.

My buddy’s mom had made a comment about requiring Sunday phone calls to give proof of life to our mothers.

Lily hadn’t asked me to call her. She hadn’t asked me to check in regularly or keep her posted about my classes or grades. Maybe she’d just been relieved that I was finally leaving. That the child of the woman who’d ruined her marriage was in another county.

All I’d wanted, as a teenage kid about to leave home, was to call a mother on Sundays if I was homesick.

Not once in my four years of college had I called Lily on a Sunday. Or any other day.

“She made her choice,” I told Sasha. “And I haven’t spoken to her much since.”

“She told you to keep calling her Lily?” Sasha asked.

“Yeah.”

Her jaw clenched, then she was off her stool, swiping my plate and hers to take to the sink. They clanked and clattered as she rinsed them off, then practically threw them into the dishwasher. Then she slammed the door and turned, her arms crossed over her chest.

“That’s not right, Jax.”

My chest felt too tight. Her rage on my behalf made it hard to breathe. “No, it’s not.”

“I was nice to her at the hospital. After you stormed outside, I was nice because I felt bad for her because you were being a jerk. Now I wish I hadn’t been nice.”

I’d seen Sasha angry, always at me. It was adorable the way her cheeks flushed. Beautiful, really, especially when that anger wasn’t aimed in my direction. “You can be nice to Lily.”

She scoffed. “Not a chance.”

God, she was something. Flushed and frazzled and absolutely drowning in my hoodie. “Tell me a lie.”

She was still fuming as she leaned against the counter. “Breakfast for dinner is gross. Your turn.”

“You look horrible in that sweatshirt.”

The compliment softened her frown but didn’t make it vanish. Not entirely. It took every ounce of willpower not to leave my seat.

Not to kiss that frown off her face.

Except that wasn’t the point of dinner tonight. That wasn’t the point of any of this. So instead of kissing her, I grabbed one of the pamphlets I’d brought in from the truck and opened it to the first page.