Wilder Hearts: Once Upon a Pregnancy. RaeAnne Thayne
decided to leave them alone tonight and hope for the best.” Mike glanced up from the form he’d signed. “I sure hope they don’t disturb her neighbors. They get a little loud and rambunctious sometimes.”
The radio squawked, and Leif responded, alerting dispatch that the medics were available again. When he’d done so, he excused himself. “I’m going to get a soda. Want me to get you one?”
“No, I’m fine.”
As Leif walked away, Mike took the time to study Simone, to watch her interact with a frightened little girl he guessed to be about six or seven years old.
Simone took a disposable glove from a box, blew into the opening to create a balloon, then knotted the end. The fingers stood straight up, resembling either a rooster’s comb or a kid’s Mohawk. Then she took a black pen and drew a pair of eyes above the thumb and a mouth below it.
The result brought forth a smile on the child’s face, providing some relief from her pain and fear.
Why couldn’t Simone see in herself what he saw in her—the compassion, the dedication, the heart of a woman who truly cared?
A woman who would make a great wife and mother.
In the past, Mike had sowed his share of wild oats. But as family holidays came and went, each one growing bigger with another new in-law or the birth of a baby, he’d begun to feel a growing urge to find a mate, settle down and create a home and family of his own.
Simone was a challenge, though.
As she returned to the desk where Mike continued to stand, she tossed a pretty smile his way. “Wags and Woofer must be doing okay. Otherwise, I suspect Mrs. McAllister, the woman who lives next door to me, would have called to complain by now.”
“I knew they’d eventually learn how to get along.” He’d taken that same stance with Simone, hoping that she’d get used to having him around, that she’d let down her guard and quit fighting her feelings for him.
“Did you ever get ahold of your mother?” he asked. “How’s she doing?”
Simone’s movements slowed to a snail’s pace. “I’m afraid I really don’t know. We’ve been playing phone tag.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Simone gave a half shrug. “Actually, that’s par for the course.”
“Because you’re both so busy?” Mike had a brother who worked odd hours and was hard to find at home.
“My mom and I never seem to connect.” She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one hip.
“Maybe you ought to try and talk to her again this evening,” he suggested, “when you get a break.”
“We’ll see.”
“I guess you’ll want to call her when you can have some privacy.”
Simone scanned the E.R.
Looking to see who was listening? he wondered.
She uncrossed her arms and straightened, distancing herself from the conversation. “I’m probably the last one on earth she really wants to hear from. So I’m going to let her call me if and when she’s ready.”
Mike watched as Simone returned to her young patient, the rubber soles of her shoes squeaking upon the tile. He’d suspected that the person who’d hurt her had been a man. That the wrongs she’d suffered and her subsequent pain might be something he could heal and rectify.
But maybe he’d been wrong.
Chapter Six
Three days later, Mike was still coming by the house to watch the dogs whenever he could, and Simone continued to drop off Wags at the Baxters’ store when she didn’t want to leave the dogs alone.
“I feel like a real parent,” he’d told her earlier as he prepared to leave for his next shift at the station.
She’d imagined him as a father, too—to real children; not the kind with four paws and fur.
“This isn’t the same,” she’d responded, wanting to change the subject to one that wasn’t so…so steeped in truth.
Something warm and tender had simmered in his gaze, something that threatened to not only pull her in, but to drag her through a rush of emotion.
“I can’t help wondering what our kids would look like,” he’d said, “if you and I were to have them.”
The statement had nearly knocked her to the floor, and she’d struggled to recover.
Ever since learning that she was pregnant, she’d been thinking a lot about the baby they’d created and had tried to imagine whether it was a girl or a boy. But she couldn’t allow herself to focus on the child being theirs—or even his. Instead, she’d forced herself to think about the joy the baby would bring to its new parents, a couple who’d been hoping and praying for a child to love.
A couple like Fred and Millie.
“You’ll make a fabulous father,” she’d told him. “But I’m not the maternal type. Trust me on that, okay?”
He’d cupped her face with both hands. “And I say that you are.”
For a long, heart-stopping moment, she’d wanted to believe him—for his sake.
And for the child’s.
But she knew things Mike didn’t. Things that would make him change his mind.
“You’re going to be late,” she’d told him, trying to shoo him out the door before she was forced to tell him the truth sooner than she was ready to do so.
Now she’d just parked in front of Tails a Waggin’.
“Here we are,” she told Wags as she reached for the handle of his carrier and took him inside the pet shop.
Simone had called the store earlier, and Millie had agreed to take Wags home for the night. Although Simone was feeling better about leaving the dogs alone, she didn’t like the idea of Wags being unsupervised inside the house. Not when he chewed everything in sight and still wasn’t housebroken.
She could, of course, leave the dogs outside, but there was a biting chill in the air, and dark clouds had gathered on the horizon. Because of the threatening weather, they couldn’t stay in the yard tonight. But if Wags stayed with Millie, Woofer could be left in the house alone.
“Look who’s here,” Millie said to Popeye Baxter, who wore a yellow bandanna around his neck and sat next to the register. “Your little friend is back.”
Simone watched as Popeye perked up in response to the news, and a smile crept across her face. Woofer was still getting used to having Wags around, so it was nice to think that Popeye found him entertaining.
“I sure appreciate you taking Wags for me,” Simone said. “And hopefully, I won’t need to impose on you too many more times. Mike is hoping to find a place, and his real estate agent called about a house that sounds promising. She’s going to show it to him on his next day off.”
“Fred and I don’t mind watching Wags.” Millie took the dog carrier from Simone and set it on the counter. Then she unhooked the latch, swung open the little door and reached inside. “Are the dogs getting along any better yet?”
“With each other? Yes. But when I got in last night, there was a note left on my door by the woman who lives next door. Apparently, they were barking and making an awful racket while I was gone.”
“That’s too bad,” Millie said. “You don’t want to upset your neighbors.”
Simone didn’t like to be kept awake by someone else’s noise, either. She also