Triplets For The Texan. Janice Maynard

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      “I’d be happy to,” Candace said.

      “Let me get my billfold.”

      “No worries. We can settle up later. Do you want something to drink? Lemonade? Iced tea?”

      Oh, wow. Tea sounded wonderful. “Tea would be great.” Her mouth was so dry. “Hurry, Candace. I don’t think I can—” She stopped dead, nausea rising in her throat. “Oh, damn. I’m going to—”

      * * *

      It might have been hours or days later when she woke up completely. She had vague memories of an ambulance and several people in white coats. Now she was in her own bed.

      When she shifted on the mattress, Hutch’s voice sounded nearby. “Take it easy, Simone. You’re going to be okay.”

      “My head hurts,” she groaned, trying to recreate her spotty memory.

      “No wonder.” Hutch crouched beside her bed, his smile quizzical. “You whacked it pretty hard on the edge of your desk when you fainted. The ER doc put in three stitches, but there’s no concussion.”

      Panicked, she tried to sit up. “The babies?”

      “Steady, woman. They’re fine.”

      “What happened to me?”

      “Hyperemesis gravidarum.”

      “Oh, God. Is that as bad as it sounds?”

      “Yes and no. You were badly dehydrated, Simone, and disoriented. One of the unlucky women who suffer from severe nausea and vomiting when pregnant. Women with multiples are more prone to it.”

      “Well, that’s just peachy,” she muttered.

      “Dr. Fetter wanted to admit you, but you pitched a fit and demanded to go home. She only agreed because I promised to stay with you.”

      For the first time, Simone realized she was hooked up to an IV. “You did this?”

      He looked at her strangely. “Yes. But if you’ve changed your mind, I’ll take you back to the hospital.”

      Now that her head was clearer, she did remember most of what he was saying. It didn’t paint her in a good light.

      “How did you hear I had passed out? Why were you there with the EMTs? Candace doesn’t even know you.”

      “She was trying to call 911 and saw my card on your desk.”

      “I knew I should have thrown that away.”

      Hutch had the audacity to laugh. When he did, she caught a glimpse of the carefree young doctor she had fallen in love with so many years ago. Heaven help her. With the shadows gone from his eyes—chased away by genuine humor—he was irresistible.

      He fiddled with a setting on the monitor. “It will take at least twenty-four hours to get your electrolyte levels balanced again. After that, we’ll have to see if you are able eat or drink at all. Otherwise, you’ll have to get nutrition intravenously.”

      “How long will this last?”

      “Well...” It was clear he didn’t want to upset her.

      “Go ahead, Hutch. I can handle it.”

      “Days. Weeks.” He grimaced. “For some it’s all the way till the end. But you’re in the earliest moments of this pregnancy. Your body is adapting to the flood of hormones. With any luck, things will settle down soon.”

      “Thanks for the pep talk,” she said drily. She watched as he moved around the bedroom. “You can’t stay here. You have a job.”

      “I was going to talk to you about that. I have a friend, a nurse, who does in-home care. She’s expensive, but it’s cheaper than being hospitalized and a lot more comfortable.”

      “She would stay overnight?”

      Hutch rubbed two fingers in the center of his forehead. “No. I would be here when I get off work in the evenings.”

      Simone closed her eyes and told herself not to get upset. That wouldn’t be good for the babies. “You know that’s impossible,” she whispered.

      He sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand, the one with the needle taped into it. “My job is to protect high-risk infants. What happened to you is serious, but there’s no reason to take up a hospital bed.”

      “What about staying away from each other?”

      “You’re all hooked up. How bad could we be?”

      The droll comment startled a laugh from her when she could have sworn she didn’t have it in her. “I have friends,” she said. “And parents.”

      “Don’t be coy, Simone. I happen to know that Cecelia is newly engaged and pregnant and Naomi flits all over the country. Your parents wouldn’t begin to know how to be nurturing. I’ve met them, remember? I’m your best shot if you want to stay out of the hospital.”

      Well, damn. The idea of checking into a hospital for something like this gave her the hives. “You could teach me about the IV,” she said, giving him a hopeful glance.

      “Nice try, kiddo. Even Kate Middleton had to stay in the hospital a few nights when she struggled with this condition. Despite the fact that she had castles and servants at her disposal. Count yourself lucky that Dr. Fetter trusts me.”

      “She should. You’re her boss.”

      “You know what I mean.”

      “I’m sorry Candace dragged you into this.”

      He leaned over and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “I’m not. You gave everyone a real scare. I’d just as soon be the one keeping an eye on you.”

       Four

      Hutch kept his easy smile with effort. Never had he imagined seeing Simone in the state she’d been in when she collapsed. Severe dehydration could even affect the heart. When he’d first seen her, he had actually feared for her pregnancy.

      Not only that, he had flashed back to losing Beth. Even though he didn’t want a romantic relationship with Simone again, there was no way in hell he was going to let anything happen to her on his watch.

      The stubborn woman had to have been in misery. Yet she’d been determined to power through on her own. She looked a little better now, but not much. He estimated that she had already lost six or seven pounds. Her cheekbones stood out sharply, as did her collarbone.

      He touched the spot beneath her ear. “They put motion-sickness patches on you in the hospital. I’ll change those out as necessary.”

      “Is it safe?” Her fingers moved restlessly, pleating the sheet.

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