“Why not?”
“Because I have everything I ever wanted.”
“Except chickens.” She kept her face straight for only a moment. Cole had told her all about his plans after she’d given him the ranch. “You want chickens, don’t you?”
“Free-range chickens. That okay with you?”
“Yes. As long as you understand they’ll be the best-cared-for chickens ever.”
“Of course.” He reached down to pat her belly. “How’s Junior?”
“Juniorette is doing just fine.”
They wouldn’t find out the sex of their baby for months. Cole was curious, but as much as he teased Sunshine, he would be happy no matter if they had a boy or a girl. After all, this was just the first one.
“Are you sure you’re not going to miss having a honeymoon?” she asked coyly.
“No, I don’t need to travel again any time soon. I’m looking forward to hunkering down in that sweet little house you bought me.”
“Me, too.”
“We’ve really done it, haven’t we? Made this all work out.”
“We have. I can’t imagine what we’ll get up to next.”
“I can.” He tugged her close and dropped a kiss on her lips. “Unfortunately not for hours and hours, though.”
Epilogue
Eight Months Later
Despite the air conditioning, the heat made Sunshine’s loose cotton top stick to her skin as she bent over the counter and packed another vegan sandwich into its recyclable container. In an hour or two the place would begin to fill up with the breakfast crowd. Emma was due in soon. This late in her pregnancy, Sunshine only came in early mornings to make the box lunches that had done so well for them. It turned out that lots of people in Chance Creek and the surrounding areas had food allergies that made it difficult for them to eat out. Emma and Sunshine had seen an opportunity and jumped on it. Not only did they sell prepared meals to individuals and families, along with their normal restaurant and bakery fare, they also catered corporate events when companies wanted to make sure the food they served was appropriate for a crowd with different dietary needs.
Sunshine had worked hard to develop a vegan menu that would appeal to the meat–and-potatoes crowd and it had worked to some extent. They made sure to attend every event in town that would allow them to give out free samples for people to try. They also held frequent tasting parties in the restaurant aimed at drawing a new crowd.
Sunshine was pleased with the outcome, although today she felt like her belly was in a vise.
Braxton Hicks contractions had started several weeks ago and increased in strength until it felt like every time she moved, one clenched around her middle like a band of steel. She heaved a sigh, packed another sandwich and slipped it in the refrigerated cases that lined one part of the bakery side of the building.
“Ouch.” She braced a hand on the counter and pressed another one to her back.
“Everything okay?” Emma came in and hung up her purse on a hook. “You don’t look so great.”
“Thanks,” Sunshine said dryly. “More Braxton Hicks. They never stop.”
“Well, you should stop. Go home. I’ll take it from here.”
“I think I’ll take you up on that.” Suddenly she was too tired to think straight.
“Want me to call Cole?” Emma peered at her. “Or maybe your doctor?”
“No. I’m going to go home and take a nap. I might as well; this is my last day working.”
“And about time.” Emma came to give her a hug. “Don’t worry; we’ll hold down the fort until you’re ready to come back.” They had decided to close the restaurant for a month, but keep the bakery and packaged food side of the business open. Sunshine knew Emma would do just fine.
Another contraction squeezed her. “Thank you.” She hugged Emma back. “Don’t be a stranger, though. I’ll be bored at home all by myself.”
“Soak it up. You won’t be bored again for a long, long time.”
Sunshine waved good-bye to her, grabbed her purse and left the restaurant. Outside she climbed into the sky-blue GMC truck Cole had bought her so she could travel safely on the country roads to and from town. She started the engine and pulled out, grateful that work was over. She felt so heavy and her muscles ached and she hadn’t been sleeping well these past few nights.
Out of town, she relaxed, letting out a breath. Emma was right; she should enjoy the next two weeks. Once the baby arrived—
Another contraction hit her, this one twice as hard and twice as long as any that had come before. Sunshine swerved, got control of the truck and pulled over, barely getting the truck into park before another contraction hit and a wave of wetness ran down her legs. She sucked in a surprised breath, but before she could react, yet another contraction squeezed her. She bent over, wanting to cry out with the slicing pain that wrenched through her, but no sound came.
This wasn’t Braxton Hicks. This was labor, she thought wildly. She grabbed for her purse on the passenger seat in order to reach her phone, but when another contraction hit, she only succeeded in knocking it to the floor. She panted until the contraction passed, then tried to reach the phone again, but the bulk of her belly got in the way. She managed to unhook her seatbelt, push back the seat and crawl clumsily over the divider between it and the passenger side, but she was crouched there when the next contraction clamped down on her and Sunshine could only pant through it again, tears slipping down her face as she rode the wave of the pain.
She finally reached the phone, scooped it up and pawed at it until she found Cole in her contacts. As the phone rang, and the pain came again, she clutched at the back of the seat, still crouched on her knees, her mouth open in a silent scream. She’d never seen the county road so empty. As the phone rang on and on she realized just how alone she was. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d face labor without Cole there.
Just as she was about to give up, Cole answered. “Sunshine?”
“Cole—” She broke off with another contraction and dropped the phone. She could hear him calling, “Sunshine? Where are you?” But there was no way she could answer until the squeezing stopped.
“In the truck. On the road,” she finally cried. “Cole—”
“I’ll be right there.”
A pain clamped down on Sunshine and she shrieked with it, fighting against the urge to bear down and birth her child. She couldn’t do it like this. Not here. Not without Cole.
But her body wasn’t listening. Sunshine fought to remember the instructions she’d gotten in birthing class. Breathe. Something about breathing—”
Another contraction hit her and Sunshine held on for dear life, panting with the pain, trying to bend with it. That was better—a little. But the urge to push was so strong.
In a rush of clarity, Sunshine realized no matter what happened she was going to have the baby right here. As horror threatened to overwhelm her once more, a vision popped into her mind—a rough mud hut and women grouped around an open hearth. She’d seen all kinds of dwellings on her trip around the world and had met women who’d given birth in all kinds of circumstances. They’d lived to tell about it.