20. Penny
Chapter 20
Penny
Sleep seemed like a distant memory as my mind raced, eyes fixed on where the pickup’s headlights illuminated the red dirt road ahead.
“How long did he say it’s been since the prolapse?” Facts were my friends as I began to build a treatment plan that would likely fly right out the window once my boots hit the ground and I had the chance to thoroughly examine the extent of the damage.
“He didn’t. But from the sounds of it, they have no idea how long the heifer was laboring before they found her.”
“That’s not what I want to hear,” I muttered.
“Maybe not, but that’s the situation as I know it.”
My head dropped back against the seat, and I attempted to pull in a calming breath. Attempted being the operative word because it did nothing to settle my nerves.
“Sorry. Just worried she’s gonna bleed out before we get there.” That was the biggest risk—that tension on the uterine vessels caused by the prolapse would cause a fatal rupture .
A warm palm landed on my thigh and squeezed. “You’re gonna do what you can and not stress the rest, you hear me?”
“Haven’t worked on a cow like this since my vet training,” I admitted.
“Is it different than working with a mare with the same issue?”
“Not much.”
I shifted in my seat. The jeans I’d lost a wrestling match with only yesterday were barely being held closed by a hair tie affixed to the button, and it felt like my tiny bump was being strangled.
Pushing my discomfort aside, I fixed my focus on the poor animal in need of my help. But so help me God, when I was done, I was burning these pants-turned-torture-device.
Colt’s oldest brother, Emmett, flagged us down at the gate and led us to where several trucks were parked near the cow in distress.
Hopping down from the passenger seat the minute the pickup came to a stop, I rushed forward, counting on Tripp to grab the bag of medical supplies I’d packed.
“Hey, Penny. Thanks for coming out,” Colt greeted me, exhaustion etched on his face.
“Sure thing.” I gripped his forearm. “Could you do me a favor and have all these trucks form a circle with their headlights pointed in this direction?” With the sun not due to rise for a few hours, I needed as much illumination as possible.
“You got it.” He turned on his heel and began barking orders at the men gathered.
Stepping closer to the large animal whose labored breathing hurt my heart, I knelt at her rear end, murmuring, “Oh, you poor thing.”
A sharp inhale sounded behind me. “Jesus.”
I could understand Tripp’s shock. It was jarring to get a good look at the stretched-out organ that wasn’t ever meant to be outside the body.
“You got this?”
Turning to peek up at my husband, I caught sight of his grimace as he stared down at the bloody mess set before me. He would stay by my side if I needed him, but I could tell he was hoping with all his might that wouldn’t be the case.
“Yeah, I’ll let you know if I need any help.”
An expression of pure relief filled his face at my dismissal, and he was quick to retreat toward the Winfields’ crew to offer them his assistance.
Digging into my bag, I pulled on a pair of gloves and got right to work. Blocking out the rest of the world, I let years of training take over in my tireless attempt to reverse the prolapse, desperate to avoid amputation as a last resort.
Relief surged when I finally got everything back in its proper place, and I swiped at my sweaty forehead with the back of my hand. Looking up, I was surprised to find the sky had transitioned from black to a tableau of dark blues and purples as the sun threatened to crest over the horizon. I’d lost all track of time while focused on my task.
On my knees for hours, I rose on stiff, shaky legs, and my thigh muscles screamed in protest. With a hand pressed to my lower back, I stretched, relishing the sound of several vertebrae cracking as I did so.
Straightening, I sucked in a deep breath through my nose .
Big mistake.
I’d been running on pure adrenaline, blocking out the rest of the world, and now that it was wearing off, my senses were coming back to me. Chief among them being my sense of smell.
The scent of blood hung heavy in the air, as did the stench of the afterbirth discarded nearby, and several things happened at once.
A rush of heat washed over me.
Excess saliva filled my mouth.
My stomach lurched.
Without conscious thought, I took off running toward the trucks circling my makeshift surgical site. Vision hazy, I had no clue as to whose pickup I gripped the tailgate of before doubling over and vomiting in the grass. Tears sprang to my eyes as my stomach continued to clench long after it had been emptied, leaving me sweating as I dry heaved.
I was only vaguely aware of my hair being held back as a hand stroked soothingly between my shoulder blades. Tripp must’ve seen my mad dash across the lawn and come to help me.
“Penny, are you okay?”
Not Tripp.
“Get your fucking hands off her!”
There he was.
My hair fell in a curtain around my face as Jake moved away from me, whether by choice or by force, I didn’t really know.
“Cool your jets. I was just checking to see if she was all right.” Jake scoffed.
I coughed up some more bile before I was finally granted a reprieve from the nausea. Hand pressed to my belly, I wrinkled my nose at the sour taste in my mouth. After a few shaky inhales, I managed to stand upright with the aid of the strong fingers that circled my biceps .
“Should’ve never brought you out here.” Guilt laced Tripp’s words. I didn’t want him beating himself up for my sensitive stomach. It wasn’t his fault.
Turning in his arms, I used my thumb to try and smooth out the lines creasing his forehead. “Hey, I’m okay. Pregnancy made the smells hit me a little harder, is all.”
“You’re pregnant?!”
My eyes widened when I realized my mistake, and Tripp whipped around, fully in guard dog mode, growling, “That’s none of your damn business.”
Jake’s eyes searched mine before asking, “Is it mine?”
Clutching Tripp so tightly I feared my fingernails would pierce the skin of his forearm, I shook my head. “No, we always used a condom.”
My ex-fiancé frowned. “That doesn’t mean anything. It could still be mine.”
“We’re done here.” Tucking me into his side, Tripp turned us, leading me toward where his pickup sat a few feet away.
“When are you due?” Jake shouted at our backs.
I froze, a ball of dread settling in my gut, threatening to make me sick all over again.
“Penny. I deserve to know if there’s even the slightest possibility you’re carrying my baby.”
“You don’t owe him anything.” Tripp’s hold around my waist tightened.
The answer to Jake’s question was damning, but I knew he wasn’t going to let this drop.
Weakly, I replied, “February 14 th .” That was one week shy of nine months from when I ran out on our wedding, with an estimation that conception had occurred sometime during the week when I swapped grooms .
Jake sucked in a sharp breath like his whole world had changed in an instant. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
“It’s. Not. Yours,” Tripp spat the words over his shoulder.
“You can’t know that for sure,” Jake argued.
Paralyzing terror pierced my heart, and my body began to shake uncontrollably. Until this moment, the thought that Tripp wasn’t the father had never crossed my mind. Especially since his cum leaking down my thighs had been a daily occurrence since we’d gotten married.
Jake and I had always used protection. But there was no telling if one of them had malfunctioned.
This was a fucking mess. And I had no one else to blame but myself.
I was the one who’d rushed into marriage with my best friend, over the moon at the idea of him finally being mine.
I was the one who’d decided it was fine to let him come inside me when I discovered we didn’t have a condom on our wedding night.
If we’d just waited, there would be no question. But instead, doubt had the walls closing in on me, and I couldn’t breathe.
Trembling, I gasped for air, and my feet were lifted from the ground as Tripp bit out, “We’re leaving.”
I was practically catatonic by the time he settled me into the passenger seat and buckled me in.
During our drive home, my mind went to the worst-case scenario—one where I was married to one man while pregnant by another.
Please, God, don’t let that be true.
“Penny, come on, honey. Time to get up.”
Rolling over with a groan, I didn’t remember how I got into bed but knew I never wanted to leave it.
“Tired,” I mumbled into the sheets when Tripp tried a second time to rouse me.
He brushed the hair away from my face. “You can sleep in the car.”
The car?
Reluctantly, I forced my heavy eyelids open. “Where are we going?” The words came out as a croak, my voice roughened by sleep.
“Manhattan, to meet up with the team.”
That news was enough to wake me up, and I sat up suddenly. “I thought we weren’t leaving for two more weeks.”
“Plan’s changed.” I didn’t like how he wouldn’t meet my eye. He seemed so far away even though he was sitting right beside me.
“Tripp,” I said his name softly, hoping to break through whatever wall he’d constructed.
He pushed off the mattress. “If we leave now, we can make it to the motel before dark.” Head tilting toward the dresser, he added, “I left clothes out for you. Everything else is packed already.”
Scrubbing both hands over my face, I sighed. “Why does it feel like we’re running away? Again.” This was becoming a nasty habit of ours, hiding from our problems instead of facing them head-on.
Finally, his gaze lifted, and I almost wished it hadn’t. The tortured look in his eyes had my heart twisting.
Voice hoarse, he whispered, “We need to go.” Then he swallowed roughly before clarifying, “I need to go. And I can’t leave you here. Please don’t ask me to.”
Fuck. He was on the verge of shattering, and I couldn’t bear to witness it .
If taking the coward’s way out by getting out of dodge and pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist was what it took to bring him peace, then so be it.
Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I padded over to where he stood, stock-still, his shoulders slumped in defeat. My arms looped around his neck, and I rose on my tiptoes to place my lips against the thundering pulse at the base of his throat.
“I can be ready in ten.”
Tripp released a shuddering breath, banding his arms around my waist as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. “Thank you.”
Blinking back the tears that burned behind my eyes, I willed myself not to let my emotions overtake me. I needed to stay strong for him, especially since all of this was my fault.
Holding him tight, I whispered thickly, “Everything’s gonna be okay, baby. I promise.”
And then I begged God not to make a liar out of me.