Page 8 of Falling Stars (Wild at Heart #2)

BAYLEE

My mom stares back at me with a worried expression through the small screen on my phone. “I’ll find someone to watch Abuelo , and I’ll be there in time. I promise.”

I force myself to say the words. “If it doesn’t happen, it’s not the end of the world.” I don’t want her to feel guilty.

She dabs her eyes. “I was there for all of Amara’s births. I’m going to be there for yours.”

That makes the back of my throat prickle because I have a sinking feeling it’s not going to happen. “It’s okay, Mom.”

“It’s not okay. Is Amara helping you with bills? Did she find a job? She’s always so evasive when I ask her.”

“She got a check from Diego.” Whether she’s planning to give me some of that is another story. I love my sister, but she’s terrible with money.

“Oh, did you get the crochet kit I sent you?”

“The little lion? Yes, it’s adorable, but you know I can’t crochet to save my life.”

She rubs her temple. “You have to make it. And promise me it’ll always stay with the baby. ”

The way she says it sends chills down my arms. “I promise, but what’s so important about this toy?”

“It’s just… tuve un sueno .”

When she doesn’t say more, I let out a groan. “Are you going to share what was in this dream?”

“ No puedo explicarlo. All I know is you have to crochet the toy and make sure you write or engrave the baby’s name on the wooden handle.”

I can’t be frustrated with her. I’ve had plenty of dreams I can’t explain. “If the lion looks more like a mongoose, will this be a problem?”

She smiles. “As long as it’s done with the love of a mother, it will be enough.”

My two o’clock appointment knocks on the salon window.

“Mom, I have to go.”

“I hate that you have to work on Sunday. What time is Maverick’s game?”

Of course she knows he plays today. “It already started.” I’ve been panicked about missing it all week.

I had my neighbor record it on her DVR, so I can watch it after work.

Ever since I declined Mav’s invitation to fly to New York, I’ve regretted it.

Paige and Mav’s brothers are up there now while I get to dye someone’s roots.

Am I destined to miss out on all the fun in life, like college and trips to New York to see NFL games, because I have to keep my family afloat in Wild Heart?

Even though I’m in the middle of a pity party, I can admit I miss Maverick.

He and I might not be close like we used to be, but I’ll always be his biggest fan.

I wish we could get past our awkwardness, but every time I go to text him, I can’t think of what to say.

That bra landing in his face plays in my head on repeat, and it pisses me off that I care .

“Maybe you’ll catch the end of the game,” my mom says, breaking into my thoughts.

That’s unlikely, but I smile to reassure her. “I’ll talk to you in a few days. Love you.”

“Love you, mija .”

When I unlock the front door, I get a sharp pain in my back that has me sucking in a breath.

“Are you okay, dear?” Miss Rosie says. “You look like you’re going to burst.”

I chuckle as I rub my back, which makes my giant belly bulge out more. “Believe it or not, I still have a few weeks to go.”

“Oh my word. I’ll say a prayer for you.” She takes my hand. “Are you sure you should be working right now?”

As much as I’d love to go on maternity leave for the next three years, I can’t afford to take off even one day. “I’ll be fine. Lorraine Ashbury just told me last week that I have good birthing hips.”

Which means she thinks I have a big ass.

Bless her heart.

By the time I finish Miss Rosie’s hair, my back is aching something fierce.

“Dear, you don’t look so good,” she says as I finish blowing out her bangs.

“I’m okay,” I say, though I’m flushed and sweaty and hungry but also nauseated. I force myself to swallow. “Want to go to the Field House and grab a sandwich with me? My treat.” That bar has several TVs. Someone there will be watching Mav’s game.

I press my palm into my aching back, hating that the only person I have to enjoy dinner with is my client. My mom’s in Amarillo, Paige is in New York with Maverick, and my sister is out of town visiting friends.

I can’t explain it, but I feel so alone right now .

My little kicker knees my kidney, and I stifle my groan. “I could use the company.”

Miss Rosie pats my hand. “Let’s go.”

We amble at our glacial pace, but it’s okay because my guts hurt from standing all day. When we get to the restaurant, I can tell by people’s expressions that the game isn’t going well.

I head to the flatscreen over the bar. Everyone’s watching it. I glance to the right, to the wall dedicated to Maverick. This town is so proud of him. I am too.

“Come on, Maverick. Show ’em how it’s done!” Zale, the bartender, shouts.

“What’s the score?” I ask.

“Thirty to sixteen.”

I cringe. Maverick must be dying inside that he’s losing a game he flew his family to watch.

All of a sudden, my chest feels so heavy, it’s hard to breathe. I lean against the sturdy frame of the bar.

When I look up, Maverick is leaping into the air. The ball is thrown too hard, and it skates off his fingers. Damn.

I don’t know what happens next, but a split second later, Maverick’s at the bottom of a heap of bodies.

One by one, they peel off him.

Until he’s lying there.

Motionless.

I suck in a breath when he doesn’t get up. He’s lying at an awkward angle, his head tilted off to the side in a way that makes it almost seem like he’s… like he’s dead.

I press my hand to my mouth so I don’t scream. Get up, Mav. Get up.

Everyone starts shouting at the TV. “You got this, Walker! Come on, boy!”

Paramedics run out onto the field and surround his still body .

This isn’t how it ends for him. It can’t be.

Tears streak down my face. “Get up, Maverick.”

Guilt for all the passive-aggressive things I said to him over the years flood my mind. It’s not his fault he didn’t love me back. Why couldn’t I just be his friend and leave it at that? Why did I have to be so angry he didn’t want me? Why couldn’t I be happy he found a girlfriend?

EMTs wrap a brace around his neck and slide his limp body onto a stretcher. As they cart him off the field, a gush of water lands at my feet.

What the hell is going on right now?

I shake my head. I’m not supposed to go into labor yet. My mom’s not here. Paige isn’t here. My sister isn’t here. No one is here!

Miss Rosie’s eyes widen as she glances at the floor. “Oh, dear. You tinkled.”

On any other day, I’d laugh, but Maverick might be dying right now, and I’m in Wild Heart instead of New York.

A contraction hits so hard, I slump to the floor and curl around my stomach.

As I stare at peanut shells, dirty boots, and crumpled napkins, I accept I’ll have to do this alone.