Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
T he sourness in Trinity’s stomach didn’t subside, even though she had done everything she could in an attempt to get rid of it. She’d fished a peppermint from her purse and popped it into her mouth, sucking on it in hopes of relieving her nausea. She’d practiced deep breathing, wondering if the trembling in her belly was a sign of an impending panic attack, and if she somehow regulated her inhales and exhales, she could overcome it before it took hold. She’d had two attacks since Calvin died, and both occurred at the most unpredictable—and inopportune—times.
She even sent up a quick prayer, but that didn’t do anything to change the unpleasant feeling rolling through her stomach.
And now her cheeks felt hot. It was warm for autumn, but not so hot that it should cause her to break a sweat while doing absolutely nothing. She had perched herself on a nearby bench while Spencer and Mia tended to Bluebell who was tied to the hitching rail just a few feet away. He was going over the grooming essentials: brushing, hoof picking, mane detangling. It was the sweetest view, but the discomfort in Trinity’s stomach made it next to impossible to properly enjoy.
When the back of her tongue began to tingle, she politely excused herself.
“If things are okay here, I’m going to step into the ranch house and get myself a glass of water,” she told Spencer, hoping he wouldn’t say there was a mini fridge in the barn with bottles of water that she could grab instead. She needed a break, a chance to splash cool water on her face and regroup.
Somehow, he read the fatigue in her eyes.
“Yeah, of course.” His own expression shifted to concern. “We’re good here.”
“Thank you,” she uttered so quietly she wondered if the words even came out. But she didn’t have time to repeat herself; she quickened her stride and rushed into the house, needing the cool air conditioning and a glass of ice water like it was a lifeline.
She had hoped the kitchen would be empty, but with the ranch house now acting as lodging for visitors to Snowdrift, she wasn’t so lucky. There was a congregation of young women milling around a pitcher of fresh-squeezed lemonade, the girl in the center donning a white sash that read, “bride-to-be.” A bachelorette party, Trinity assumed.
Thankfully, the sink wasn’t obstructed, so she made her way around the gaggle of women and pushed the faucet handle back. Cool water streamed out, and, if she hadn’t had an audience, she would have splashed a palmful of it over her face. Instead, she simply tore off a paper towel from its roll, swiped it under the running stream, and then pressed it to her cheeks, her neck, her collarbone.
“You good?” The voice came from behind her, but it wasn’t one of the bachelorettes. They were still busy chatting and giggling about some mishap at a winery that had happened earlier that morning.
Trinity turned on her heel, coming face to face with a woman she hadn’t seen in years.
“Clara?” She looked directly at Spencer’s twin sister. “I didn’t know you were back.”
“Hi, Trinity.” Clara grinned, but her smile faded when she noticed Trinity’s condition. “Hey, are you feeling okay? You look really flushed.”
Trinity felt flushed, and not in the good way when her cheeks would pink from laughter or excitement. No, this was something different altogether.
“I’m actually not feeling my best,” she confessed. She slumped against the counter and pressed the paper towel to her forehead again. “I think I might be coming down with something.”
It would make sense; her son had just been sick. As much as she wanted to believe the unease in her stomach was related to her anxiety about Mia’s lessons, the timing was too coincidental to be anything other than a bug.
“Why don’t we take a minute in the living room?” Clara suggested.
Trinity hadn’t even registered the fact that Clara had taken ahold of her elbow to direct her out of the kitchen and into the sitting room located on the other side of the entryway, but when the backs of her knees hit the couch cushions, she immediately plopped down in relief.
“I’m going to get you a glass of ginger ale.”
Before Trinity could protest, Clara was gone.
Well, this was beyond embarrassing.
She would not allow herself to become physically ill. She would will away any sense of impending nausea and pull herself together. But that rumbling of her stomach just wouldn’t subside.
“Here.” Clara returned and placed a bubbly glass of ginger ale on the coffee table, giving Trinity another empathetic look. “See if you can take a few sips. It might help.”
“Honestly, I should probably just get Mia and head home.” She tried to stand, but the room spun around her, and her vision began to tunnel. This was not good. Not good at all.
“I don’t think you should drive if you’re not feeling well,” Clara placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Just sit tight. I’ll go get Spencer?—”
“No!” She didn’t mean to shout but the words flew from her lips. “No, you don’t have to get him. He’s busy. I’ll be fine in a few minutes. I just need a second to regroup.”
She could tell she wouldn’t be fine, though. The nausea was getting worse, the flush of fever spiking higher. This was just the beginning.
She thought about taking a drink, but it only made her stomach ache more. She could call her parents. One of them could stay with Liam while the other came to get her. She could retrieve her car later. In her muddled head, that made the most sense. All she needed was her cell phone, which was currently in her purse, placed on the bench out by the barn. It would be too much to ask Clara to get it for her. She would just have to suck it up and do this herself.
“I really am feeling much better,” she lied. She hadn’t seen Clara in years, let alone interacted with her. The last thing she wanted was for the poor woman to play nurse. What an awkward reunion for the two of them. “I’m going to head back out to the barn.” Then, realizing she hadn’t touched the ginger ale, Trinity took a quick sip, instantly regretting it. Her mouth watered bitterly. “Thank you again, Clara. So good to see you.”
It was nothing but blackness at the edges of her vision, a clammy sweat creeping up her neck as she stood from the couch and left the house. The last time she’d felt this bad was back when she was pregnant with Liam and she’d had horrible first trimester morning sickness. She sucked in a sharp breath through her nose and let it out through her lips while she gripped the railing that led from the front porch down to the walkway below.
The barn was close enough that she could make it even with her vision blurred. All she had to do was follow her daughter’s laughter which was thankfully much louder than the ringing in her ears.
She could feel a single bead of sweat drip down her spine. This was awful. Would she really be able to safely drive home in this condition? She knew she shouldn’t. She would have to call her parents as soon as she reached the bench with her purse and phone.
But before she could stumble her way forward, Spencer called out, “Trinity?” And then, “Hey, Mia, how ‘bout you go check on Doodlebug for me? You can give him a treat from the jar that we used for Bluebell. I’ll be in to check on you in a minute.”
Just as Trinity reached out for the back of the bench, Spencer rushed over to grab her shoulders and lower her much more gently than she had intended. On her own, she would have collapsed.
“You’re burning up.” With his face only inches from hers, she could clearly see the concern etched in the tightness of his buckled brow. And when the back of his hand pressed to her forehead, she edged even closer to passing out than she had moments earlier. “Trinity, you’ve got a fever.”
“I know.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “I think I caught whatever Liam had. I’m going to call my parents to see if they can pick us up and take us home.”
“I’ll take you.” His hand was still on her forehead, heating up her skin even more where he touched. “Let me get Bluebell put away and then I can drive you both.”
“You don’t need to do that.” Had she been this embarrassed in recent times? If so, she couldn’t remember it. Her cheeks were doubly pink now from both her high temperature and her utter humiliation. She doubted she’d ever been this shade of red. “I’m so sorry.”
And then, just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, she burped. Oh, no. No, no, no. She could feel the bile rising up her throat and the panic setting in.
“Trinity.” He said her name again, but softer this time, nothing but tenderness behind it. “If you need to be sick, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
It certainly was not okay. She was a grown woman. She was not about to throw up in front of Spencer, a man she barely knew. Plus, she knew it would alarm her young daughter to see her in this condition. Forcing another breath, she unzipped her purse to locate a peppermint which she quickly unwrapped and popped into her mouth. It helped take the nauseous edge off, but only minimally.
“ Mia .” She locked eyes with Spencer. Her daughter had been out of their sight for several minutes now, and she didn’t like the uneasy feeling creeping up on her.
“She’s good.” Spencer withdrew his phone from his back pocket, swiped across the screen, and pulled up a camera monitoring system app. “Look.” He held the phone close enough for Trinity to view Mia standing inside Doodlebug’s stall, brushing the small pony’s unruly mane while she hummed the song her class had been practicing for the fall festival. Both looked as though they were on their best behavior and having the time of their lives. “They’re safe,” he assured.
With that knowledge, Trinity relaxed enough to press her back to the bench, shut her eyes briefly, and focus on her breathing, the only thing keeping her from losing her lunch in the dirt next to them.
But she probably should have left her eyes open. If she had, she would have seen Spencer lift his arm, and she would have noticed the way his fingers gently reached out to brush her sweat-matted hair from her forehead. The tenderness of his touch, the slight hesitation before his hand made contact…it would have been apparent. If she’d seen all of that, she wouldn’t have flinched when she felt the unexpected warmth of his fingers against her skin.
“I’m sorry.” Spencer yanked his hand back. “I wasn’t?—”
“It’s okay,” she said, because it was. Despite the shock, there was something comforting in the way he stroked her hair back into place. But even more than that, it was the genuine concern in his eyes that made her feel safe in a way she hadn’t in so very long. She’d had a difficult time regulating her breathing earlier, but this simple act took her breath away completely. She gulped.
“I’m going to call my parents.”
He didn’t look like he was going to challenge her on that. His voice was quiet when he said, “Okay,” but his eyes didn’t leave hers, and his concern didn’t falter.
“Thank you again for everything with Mia today.” Trinity still felt out of sorts, but she didn’t know if she should attribute that to the illness or to Spencer’s lingering gaze that made her feel like she was being studied. “You’ve made her entire day. Month really. Probably even her year.”
“She’s a good kid,” he said. “You should be proud.”
That was one thing Trinity definitely was. Pride didn’t even begin to scratch the surface when it came to her feelings toward her children. “Thank you. I’m doing my best with her. With them.”
“It shows.”
She wasn’t sure why the compliments kept coming, but she appreciated them all the same. It was nice to have someone other than family acknowledge how well her kids were doing in spite of their circumstances. It gave some validity to her own assessment of their healing.
And if there was anything Trinity was sure of, it was that spending time around horses would help her daughter heal tenfold.
And for the briefest, most fleeting moment, Trinity wondered if spending time at the barn around someone like Spencer might help to heal some small portion of her own heart, too.