Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Lori upbraided herself. You also have Carson.
She glanced at the man who looked like a sterner, older version of her late husband. She wasn’t about to minimize the effect of having him in her life. Having her brother-in-law’s support went a long way toward helping her get her world in order.
Not that she leaned on him—well, not so that he really noticed. But just knowing he was around if she needed him meant a great deal to her. Carson had offered her a job helping at the center when her company had left her almost as high and dry as Kurt’s death had. And he’d also been instrumental in pulling strings and getting her the job teaching the Lamaze classes at Blair.
That and the freelance work she found as a graphic designer helped her make ends meet. More importantly, it kept her sane. Kept her grief at bay. Kurt had never been a steady, dependable man, but in her own way, she’d loved him a great deal. Forgiven him a great deal, even his inability to grow up and take on responsibilities. Even the dalliances she’d discovered. It had taken her time, though, to forgive him his death.
She was still working on it.
Kurt had had no business racing like that, no business wanting to shake his fist at death just one more time because it made himself feel more powerful. Not when he had her and a baby on the way.
She sighed quietly. That had been Kurt—thoughtless, but engaging. At times, though, it had worn a little thin.
“Eight?” Carson echoed.
She looked at him, her thoughts dissipating. Carson had forgotten, she thought. But then, there were a lot more important things on his mind than her pregnancy. Like constantly searching for funding.
“You’re that far along?”
She tried not to laugh at his incredulous expression. “You make it sound like a terminal disease.”
Broad shoulders rose and fell in a vague fashion. “I guess I just didn’t realize…” An idea came to him suddenly. “I can have you placed on disability—” He didn’t know where he’d find the money, but something could be arranged.
Lori knew what he was trying to do. Contrary to her ex-sister-in-law’s beliefs, Carson’s heart was in the right place, but in her book, what he was proposing was nothing short of charity.
“I’m not disabled,” she countered.
He heard the stubborn tone in her voice. Admirable though her independence was, there were times when his sister-in-law could be a mule. Like now. “Yeah, I know, but technically maternity leave doesn’t start until after you give birth.”
It was her turn to shrug. “So, I’ll stick around until I give birth.”
“You should be home, Lori, taking care of yourself.”
Carson didn’t see what the problem was, or why she had him fighting a war on two fronts, one to get her a paid leave and one to get her to actually leave. When Jaclyn had been pregnant, she’d insisted on having a woman come in and do all the chores that she didn’t normally do anyway. After Sandy was born, Hannah had stayed on to care for the house and the baby.
Jaclyn had always maintained that she was too delicate to put up with the drudgery of routine. He’d indulged her because he’d loved her and because she was his wife, his responsibility.
And because he’d been crazy about their child.
In hindsight, Hannah had taken care of Sandy better than Jaclyn ever could. Carson didn’t mind paying for that. There was nothing too good for Sandy.
“I am taking care of myself,” Lori insisted. She was accustomed to looking after herself. She’d been on her own since she was twenty. Even after she’d met Kurt, she’d been the one to take care of him, not the other way around. “If I stayed at home with my feet up, I’d go crazy inside of a week. Three days, probably.” She smiled at Carson, appreciating his concern but determined not to let him boss her around. “Haven’t you heard, Counselor? Work is therapeutic. Speaking of which, I’d better be getting back. There’s a basketball game I’m supposed to be refereeing.”
Bracing herself, she placed a hand on either wooden armrest and pushed herself up. The movement was a little too sudden, a little too fast. Lori’s head started to spin.
The walls darkened. The small room began to close in on her.
A tiny pinprick of panic scratched her skin.
Lori struggled against the encroaching darkness, struggled to push the walls back out again. The effort was futile. The walls turned all black as they raced toward her with a frightening speed.
Perspiration beaded along her forehead.
And then there was nothing.
The next thing Lori knew, she felt herself being jerked up. Someone’s arms were closing around her. There was heat everywhere, swirling about her.
She realized her eyes were shut.
With a mighty effort, she pushed them open again and found herself looking up into Carson’s dark blue, solemn eyes. They were darker than Kurt’s eyes had been. And far more serious.
Lori tried to smile. Even that took effort. He was holding her. Holding her very close. Was that why it felt so hot all of a sudden?
Because he looked so concerned, she forced herself to sound light. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that if you scowl so hard, your face’ll freeze that way?”
“My mother told me very little,” he told her, his voice monotone.
She’d given him one hell of a scare, fainting like that. He had no idea what to think, what to do, other than to feel utterly helpless. Somebody needed to hand out instruction booklets when it came to women. Maybe even an entire desk encyclopedia.
Carson carried her over to the sagging, rust-colored leather sofa and placed her down as gently as he could manage.
His brow furrowed as he looked at her. “You want me to call a doctor?”
She caught hold of Carson’s hand in case he had any ideas about acting on his question. “No, I want you to stop looking as if I’m about to explode any second.”
His eyes were drawn to the small bump in her abdomen that represented his future niece or nephew. It was easy to forget Lori was pregnant at times. She looked so small. How could there be another human being inside of her?
Still, eight months was eight months. “Well, aren’t you?”
She placed her other hand protectively over her abdomen. She could feel her baby moving. It always created a feeling of awe within her. Three months of kicking and shifting and she still hadn’t gotten used to the sensation.
“No,” she assured him, using the same tranquil, patient voice she used in the Lamaze classes, “not at the moment. Pregnant women faint, Carson.” She used his hand to draw herself up into a sitting position. And then slowly to her feet. He hovered protectively around her. “It’s one of the few pleasures left to them.” Her smile was meant to put him at ease. “Don’t worry about it.”
His arm was around her, just in case her knees failed again. “Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?”
She flashed a grin at him. “Maybe that’s what keeps me going.”
He knew her well enough to know there was no winning. “At least let me drive you home.”
Lori shook her head. “I brought my car.”
“So?” Carson didn’t see the problem. “I’ll drive that.”
She cocked her head, looking at him. The man was a dear. “Then how will you get back?”
He bit back an oath. “Do you have to overthink everything?”
“Can’t help it.” Her eyes sparkled as she smiled more broadly at him. “Must be the company I keep.” She took a deep cleansing breath, then released it slowly, just as she’d demonstrated countless times in class. “There, all better. Really.” But as she tried to walk away, she found that he was still holding her. Still unwilling to allow her to leave on her own power.