CHAPTER 19 #3
“I’m not handling it well myself.” The night air bit at her skin, and with only a T-shirt on she wrapped her arms around herself. “Why don’t I grab us some water?”
She slid open the door, closing it behind her, and walked to the fridge.
Ruth and Nolan sat on the couch, watching TV as if it were just another Tuesday.
Jamie grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge.
Derrick would have scolded her for not using a Brita.
He was always on her case about plastic, convinced the recycling cops were watching.
But he had no idea what went on in apartment buildings.
People tossed their recycling in all the wrong bins—cans with plastics, egg cartons in the paper, glass bottles that could have been returned, and the unbroken-down cardboard boxes thrown right into the dumpster.
She always thought you should watch how someone recycled before agreeing to go on a date with them.
“Are you guys watching a movie?” she asked, removing Clayton’s suede jacket from the back of the chair as she glanced at Ruth and Nolan.
“Virgin River,” Ruth replied, draping a blanket over them—a choice that felt perfectly suited to their relationship.
“Shouldn’t you be doing something?” Jamie asked, exasperated.
“There’s nothing to do but wait,” Nolan said, his voice reassuring. “Poppy’s doing great. ”
Jamie felt powerless about not being able to help her, yet she trusted the vet completely. She draped Clayton’s jacket over her shoulders, his familiar scent offering a small, unexpected comfort.
She stepped onto the balcony and handed Clayton a bottle of water. “Here,” she said softly. Without remarking on the wasted plastic, he unscrewed the cap and took a gulp.
“Thanks,” he said, still kneeling against the railing as he looked up at her. “My jacket looks good on you.”
“It’s a little big.” She dropped her arms by her side and the cuffs went past her fingers. “Was your dad disappointed you didn’t become a vet?”
“Disappointed is an understatement.”
“You played professional baseball.”
“For one season before my elbow crapped out.” He stood and took another sip of water. “In the Langley family, being a vet ain’t a choice—it’s an expectation.”
She wondered whether AJ had ever seen her as more than just a prospect for a rich man. If he had, he’d never mentioned it.
“You’re a country star, doesn’t that count?”
“Did you just say I’m a country star?”
“I did—and I mean it as a compliment. People who don’t know any better love your music.”
He chuckled. “Daddy still insists it’s not a real job.”
“You make a good living—better than good living. More than you’d make if you were a vet.”
“Money means nothing to Daddy.” He circled his ankle as if his foot hurt. “Try not to become a man of success, but rather try to become a man of value, he said. Well, Einstein said it, but he believes it.”
AJ would have laughed at the notion—money was his god, the only thing he believed in.
Clayton lifted his other foot, twisted it, and winced.
“Why don’t you take your boots off?” Jamie suggested.
He shook his head. “Won’t be able to get them back on.”
“Your songs mean something to people,” she said. “They have value.”
“Not according to the Gospel of Doc Langley.”
Ruth banged on the glass door and they turned their heads. Her assistant’s eyes widened as she shouted something Jamie couldn’t understand.
Clayton slid open the balcony door.
“Another one’s coming,” Ruth said. “But there’s a problem.”
“Jesus,” Jamie muttered as she bolted out the door toward the pen.
“Stand back, everyone,” Nolan said. “This puppy is breeched. The tail’s coming out first.”
Almost instinctively Jamie grabbed Clayton’s hand, and he squeezed it. “Is that normal?” she asked.
“It happens,” the vet said. “Clay, take her to the couch.”
Still holding her hand, Clayton led her to the living room. “Poppy’s in good hands.”
“I think I need to lie down,” Jamie said, releasing his grip. “If anything happens to Poppy it’s on your head.”
“She’s going to be fine,” Clayton said, his voice reassuring.
“You don’t know that.”
She lay on the couch and closed her eyes, reflecting on all she’d done to keep her dog safe.
She’d never left her tied up outside a store, always scheduled vaccine appointments months in advance, and insisted on feeding her only the finest, most expensive food.
Yet amid all these precautions one unexpected consequence emerged: she got pregnant.
Ruth and Nolan worked as a team—he issued orders and she followed them without question.
In the background Jamie could hear them debating whether to extract the feet or perform a cesarean section.
Across from her Clayton sat in a chair with his back turned, and she wondered if all this commotion was causing him déjà vu.
Although it felt like an eternity, Nolan finally said, “No surgery needed.”
Relief washed over Jamie as they waited for Poppy to deliver.
“It’s a girl!” Nolan announced with a small smile.
“Reba,” Ruth said warmly. “Welcome to the world.”
Jamie exhaled. “And Poppy?”
“Perfectly healthy,” Nolan assured him. “She’s done giving birth.”
The apartment settled into a quiet calm, the only sounds the soft squeaks of the newborn puppies and Poppy’s gentle breathing. After washing up, Ruth and Nolan took their seats—Ruth settled beside Jamie while Nolan dropped into a chair next to his brother.
Jamie reached out, offering her hand. “Thank you, Nolan.”
He shook it without hesitation. “Happy to help.”
Everyone was exhausted after the event, and a heavy silence settled over the room for several minutes.
“I should probably stay here tonight and keep an eye on her,” Nolan said.
“Of course!” Ruth replied as she retrieved her phone from her bag. “There’s tons of room,” she added before standing up. “I’m going to take a picture of Reba.” She asked Nolan, “What are you going to call him?”
“Well, since I already have a Duchess and Clay has a Duke, I think I’ll name him Earl.”
“That’s perfect!” Ruth laughed and Jamie joined in, but Clayton sat there and shook his head.
“What are you going to name yours, Clayton—Baron?” Jamie asked.
“The girls want to name him Heathcliff.”
“Oh really? Why?” Jamie thought it was an unusual name.
“From Wuthering Heights?” Ruth inquired.
Clayton nodded. “They were named after the Bronte sisters, so it only makes sense for him to be named after one of their characters.”
“That’s adorable,” Ruth said.
“It really is, Clayton,” Jamie agreed, making a mental note to read the book.
Clayton gestured toward the scattered cards on the table.
“We didn’t finish the showdown,” he said and flipped over his hole cards, revealing two pairs—jacks and eights. “Beat that.”
Jamie smiled and turned over her cards to reveal a royal flush. “Read ’em and weep.”
Ruth giggled. “I told you, Clayton. She always wins.”
Clayton exhaled, pushing back his chair with a slow nod. “Guess I should roll on out.”
“If you’re still feeling sick, we have an extra bed,” Ruth offered.
“Feeling better now, thanks.” Clayton took his suede jacket from Jamie’s outstretched hand. “See you in Vegas.”
Jamie froze. “Vegas?”
“The ACMs,” he said casually.
Her stomach knotted. “Wait—what? I thought they were in Nashville.”
“Vegas,” he repeated, as if it were obvious.
A sharp pulse of panic shot through her.
Vegas. The word alone made her chest tighten.
The flashing neon, the relentless noise, the ghosts of a life she’d worked so hard to leave behind—it was all waiting for her there.
She hadn’t set foot in that city in over five years, and she sure as hell didn’t plan to now .
“No one told me they were in Vegas,” she said, her voice taut. “I can’t go back there.”
Clayton shrugged. “Sorry, darlin’.”
She stared at him, disbelief hammering in her chest. “You knew. And you didn’t tell me?”
He met her gaze. “You never asked.”