Page 13 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy (The Texas Wolf Brothers #3)

“T his is not the tasting room.” Tinsley stated the obvious as Anders pulled his truck into a parking lot near a medical building adjacent to Jameson Hospital.

At his request, Catalina had called her OB for an emergency appointment, and the OB was seeing her at the clinic instead of the emergency room.

“I need to go to the apartment. Take a shower and get my bike. I was supposed to have dinner at the ranch. I can ride back. Where’d you put my bike?”

“Baby. Tinsley.” He clung to his calm when he really wanted to swoop her up and run into the building. But he needed her cooperation or else he’d be dealing with Police Chief Shane Highwater locking him up on kidnapping charges. “Dinner can wait. The ranch can wait. Catalina and August can wait.”

“We just left. No explanation.” She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “It’s so unprofessional. I acted unprofessionally.”

“Give yourself a break. It’s a lot to take in.” He personally felt like his skin was going to peel off and he would fly apart into a million or billion atoms or however many the human body was comprised of—August would know.

“I feel sick. I want to lie down.”

“That’s why we’re seeing the doctor. Do you have a headache?”

“Yes, it’s worse.”

What was going on with her? He had to fix this. What if the pregnancy was hurting her? What if something was wrong with the baby?

To hell with being the nice guy. He swore, got out of the truck and marched to the other side, opened the passenger door and scooped Tinsley out still wrapped in the blue and white towel over the very sexy bronze bikini that he’d been trying hard to not notice when the towel had slipped down during his rushed ride into town.

He carried her into the clinic. Put her down in a chair and checked her in, bringing the paperwork to her.

“Anders, I can make my own appointment.”

“I know.”

“Doctor appointments are private,” she said. “Ever heard of HIPAA laws?”

“The baby is mine as well,” he said, feeling drained. Did she really intend to fight him on everything? Shut him out of everything?

He sat next to her.

“I know but—” She began filling out the paperwork. She sighed.

“I know I messed up, Tinsley. I am sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Her eyes looked even more amber. “Anders, you did everything right. We were just unlucky.”

And that was the problem, he thought, feeling like she’d punched him in the chest. He didn’t want to think about the baby as bad luck. He kicked out his feet, assuming a relaxed pose that he was a million miles away from feeling. Hell of a way to start a life. Bad luck.

He didn’t look at her as she filled out the paperwork.

Her name was called, and he stood, his arm out to help her get up.

“Not a whale yet,” she said, obviously trying to soften the rejection and go for humor, but the joke fell flat. “You don’t need to wait. I can walk to the tasting room from here.”

“The baby is my child too,” he said softly, leaning toward her so no one could overhear or see his expression.

“I am not a man who ignores his child’s health or the health of its mother.

Once I know that you and our child are fine, I will take you to your new apartment and leave you alone tonight. Am I clear?”

“Very. But, Anders…” Her hand was on the bare skin of his arm.

He’d been in such a rush to get Tinsley into his truck and to the doctor’s he’d taken off without his shirt.

Catalina had chased after him waving it like a flag.

She’d tossed it to him through the open window with a grin saying that he didn’t want to have any viral videos of him striding bare-chested through hospital corridors. But her eyes had been worried.

“Anders, I’m fine. Really. I feel fine now.” Tinsley’s beautiful darkly golden gaze searched his.

But the confident tone didn’t reach her eyes. She looked worried. In pain. Alone. And it tore him up inside. He wanted to help. He wanted to make everything better, and she just kept shutting him down.

He pulled her with him and slid his arm around her waist and sent the waiting nurse his public smile. Ah shucks. Of course it was someone he knew from school.

“Humor me then because I am a long way from fine.”

“Anderson Albrecht Wolf, it’s good to see you.” Trista McNally smiled at him. “Guess you don’t spend all your time away from town. I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Good to see you, Trista,” he said wincing at the sound of his full name that he did his best to forget. “I didn’t know you’d gone into nursing.”

“Finished my RN degree two years ago and going to start more training so I can work with the moms and their new babies in the postnatal ward. Let’s get your weight first.” Trista stopped by the scale.

Tinsley shot him a look he ignored.

“Wonderful, Trista. I remember you always liked babies, but it was usually the baby goats at the fair.”

She laughed. “You remember that.”

“This is my fiancée, Tinsley Underhill. She’s new in town and will be opening up August’s tasting room sometime soon.”

Tinsley jumped at the F word. Too bad. He was tired of walking on eggshells. He seen her easily run over every cowboy, stock contractor, advertising exec, and western suited-up business owner he’d seen take a shot with her. He wasn’t going to be one more reject under her boots.

She’s mine . And he didn’t have back down in his skill set.

He hadn’t been looking to become a husband or father so soon. And Tinsley didn’t hit many points on his perfect wife list. She was beautiful and sexy, but complicated, independent, ambitious, and assertive. All great traits in a woman, but not what he’d been picturing in a wife.

He stepped back and pretended a great interest in the black-and-white baby pictures that lined the halls while Tinsley was weighed.

He might be pushing Tinsley to her brink right now, but even he knew women didn’t like to share their weight, and he imagined a newly pregnant woman might be even more self-conscious.

Dumb. She looked good enough to eat, and she’d felt warm and light in his arms.

“Room four.” Trista indicated the room with a sweeping flourish of her hand as if she were a game show model showing off a prize.

“You’re not coming in with me,” Tinsley said firmly, balking at the door.

He nudged her into the exam room. “Yes. I am. I’m worried.”

“But—” She bit the left side of her bottom lip once and then immediately stopped and smoothed out her features. “Really, I’m fine,” she said. “Anders is just overreacting,” she said to the nurse.

“Lots of first-time daddies do.” Trista smiled. “You’ll get used to it.”

Anders nearly laughed at Tinsley’s horrified expression.

He’d removed his hat the minute they’d entered the building, and now he nervously ran the brim through his fingers and looked at Tinsley as she perched on the edge of the exam table. The paper crinkled annoyingly, and she winced.

“I’ll get your blood pressure and temp, and then the doctor can come in and talk to you about your symptoms.”

“I don’t have any symptoms,” Tinsley said coolly.

“Two panic attacks, shallow breathing, clammy skin, very pale complexion, shaking and racing heart,” Anders said. “And she has a headache.”

“I can answer for myself,” she said tightly.

“Then do so.” He sat in the chair, stretching his legs out and crossing them at his ankles, then he drew them back closer to the chair so he didn’t trip anyone. With the doctor coming soon, space would be at a premium.

“Do you often have panic attacks?” Trista asked. “Do you take medicine for them?”

Anders tried to keep his expression neutral. Tinsley was the most outgoing, confident woman he’d met. The idea of her having regular panic attacks was absurd. But he’d witnessed two. Guilt rode him hard. He was pushing too much. He had to back off.

“Not for many years,” Tinsley said reluctantly. “No meds. Not…not anymore.”

Anders felt like she was deliberately avoiding looking at him. Was he invading her privacy being here? But it was his baby too. Tinsley and the baby were his responsibility. How could he do his job without all the information?

“Date of your last period?” Trista asked, booting up the computer and staring at Tinsley intently.

“June 19.”

Trista made notes. “If you going to stay with Dr. Graham for the duration of your pregnancy, you’ll want to have your OB records released to us, including your eight-week appointment.”

“Oh. I haven’t had an appointment for the pregnancy.”

“But the pregnancy is medically confirmed?” Trista asked, looking up from the computer.

Tinsley wiggled out of her motorcycle boots. Each one clunked to the floor. She had sparkly purple toenails.

“Three tests over a week, each time hoping for a different result, but no, each time a thumbs-up.” She peeled off her T-shirt and leaned back on the table on her elbows.

She looked sexy in her bikini, and despite the pregnancy, her abs were still cut.

He couldn’t help staring—trying to see changes in her body.

Her breasts definitely fuller, spilling out of the cups of her bikini top.

Anders felt all the spit in his mouth dry dang near to his gut. “Pregnancy tests.” He tried to stamp down his lustful observations. “They don’t really have a thumbs-up sign?”

“Anders Wolf, you have your brain shook up one too many times on the back of one of those bulls?” Trista demanded, grinning at him like they were back in high school, and he had done something particularly foolish to get a cheerleader’s attention.

“Men, am I right?” Trista asked Tinsley, pulling out the blood pressure cuff.

“Absolutely,” Tinsley said and lifted her arms, which lifted her breasts up like a gift.

She ran her fingers through her thick, wavy copper-colored hair and took an elastic from the collection on her wrist before twisting it around the mass of her glorious hair.

Then she stuck her arm out toward the nurse.

“Blood pressure it is.” She smiled all sugar sweet at him. He adjusted himself in his seat, and she definitely noticed. Her chin tilted in challenge and Anders pondered the effectiveness of a leash.

Trista completed her exam, asked some questions, made some notes and then in a personal note as she was leaving, determined that she would come by the wine bar next week with some friends when it opened.

“Your tasting is on me,” Tinsley said. “And if you join the wine club, your future tastings will be free and there’ll be discounts on wine and other items purchased.”

“Don’t you think you should be taking this more seriously?” he demanded, irritated with how friendly she was with everyone but him—and a million other things. He felt like he was crawling out of his skin. “You’re in your OB’s office trying to drum up customers for the tasting room.”

“It’s my job.” She smirked. “If I irritate you so much, you could wait outside.”

That wasn’t happening, but before he could think of something to say more useful than gritting his teeth, the doctor knocked and opened the door.

“Trista didn’t give you a gown?” she asked, hand on the door handle, then she stepped forward and introduced herself. “Dr. Kristen Graham. I believe congratulations are in order.” She smiled, all confidence, reassurance, straight white teeth and beautiful, heavily lashed blue eyes.

She handed Tinsley a folded hospital gown. Tinsley slipped her arms through the fabric, leaving the back gaping open.

“Looks like you went swimming. The Wolfs have the best swimming holes on their ranch, according to my younger sister and brother. August liked to throw midnight Saturday parties in the summer.” She smiled.

“I was a year ahead of Axel, and he was always serious and focused. No parties. Is the swimming hole as nice as I’ve heard? ”

Tinsley blushed. “I was in the pool, but, yes, the swimming hole is a little too amazing.”

“That sounds promising. Any idea of the conception date?”

Tinsley made a weird sound.

“Axel’s and August’s double wedding,” Anders said, noting that Tinsley’s blush went down her neck. Too bad she’d put the gown on. “At said swimming hole.”

Tinsley’s mouth dropped open.

“A little TMI, cowboy,” the doctor said. “But I suppose the Wolfs always want a good story to tell. This can be one more in your long family legacy.” She washed her hands before picking up a small piece of equipment and a bottle of what looked like gel.

And his tension was back.

“Your due date will be in late March.”

March. It was months away but still so soon. He’d be in the early stages of the tour. Far away. He’d need to take time off. Change his will. His beneficiary. The list grew in his head, and he almost missed what the OB said next.

“On the notes, it said you hadn’t yet had an appointment with an OB. Do you want to hear the heartbeat?”

“Can we?” they both asked at the same time. He was eager. Tinsley sounded more freaked out.

“You’re at around eleven weeks. Let’s listen and go from there.”

She helped Tinsley to lie down.

“This is a fetal doppler.” Tinsley’s fist balled at her sides and she stared up at the ceiling.

Anders had tried to sit in the blue chair provided for significant others, not that Tinsley seemed to consider him that, but he was too edgy.

He didn’t know what he expected, but when a fast-paced whooshing filled the room, reminding him of hummingbird wings, he lost the ability to breathe.

He stared at the exposed creamy tautness that was Tinsley’s abdomen. She held life inside of her. The life of their child. His vision went a little blurry, and he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead.

It was real.

They were having a baby.

He was going to be a dad.