“Always answer your calls. You have no idea how many worst-case scenarios have run through my mind.” Elaine sounded like an anxious mother doing her best not to scold her adult child.
“I totally understand. Won’t happen again.” Libby stepped toward the door, grateful to turn her baby sister back over to their worried mother.
Elaine smoothed back Lofton’s hair and kissed her on the forehead. “God, I’m so grateful you’re alive.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.” Lofton’s voice sounded small and a little contrite.
Elaine turned to Libby. “Thank you.”
“Sure thing.”
“I’ll talk to you soon?”
“Absolutely.”
Libby and Colton stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind them. “Got to love family.”
“Elaine will be in there awhile. I’ve texted Ginger, and she’s waiting to see you.”
Tightness banded around her chest. “I say we wait five or six months. Don’t want to get the hopes up.”
He guided her toward the elevator and pressed the down button. They stepped off on the first floor, where Ginger was waiting. She took the pair into an examination room.
“Libby,” she said. “How are you doing?”
“I might be a little pregnant, but it likely won’t last.”
Ginger looked past her to Colton, her expression questioning. “That’s not what Colton said.”
“I’ve already lost three pregnancies.” As much as she wanted to hope for this baby, she did not dare.
“Well, why don’t we run a few quick tests and see what’s going on,” Ginger said. “Every pregnancy is different, and there’s no predicting what will happen. One step at a time.”
“I want to hear what Ginger has to say,” Colton said.
Ginger regarded her brother a long moment as an amused smile lightened her expression. “Do you mind if Colton stays?”
“Sure. Why not?”
The examination took only a few minutes, with Libby lying on a gurney while Colton sat in a chair next to her. Afterward, Ginger wrote up some notes on her tablet and then turned her attention back to Libby. “Libby, you’re indeed pregnant.”
Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She stared at the tiled ceiling, trying to push back the feeling of happiness and hope.
“We have a great doctor on staff who handles high-risk pregnancies,” Ginger said.
Colton rose and stood beside her. He had a determined “we will get through this” look that she thought was sweet but naive.
“Don’t do that,” she said.
“What?”
“Think we’re going to get through this.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Libby, it’s a long road ahead,” Ginger interjected. “You’re not alone in this.”
Libby would do whatever was necessary for this pregnancy except hope. She would not make lists of the things a newborn needed nor look at any blue, pink, or yellow paint swatches.
Colton’s phone pinged with a text. “Elaine is just outside and wants to see you.”
“Sure. Send her in.”
The curtains pushed back, and Elaine crossed to her bed. She did not smooth back her hair or kiss her on the forehead like she had with Lofton. But she was here. And she looked worried.
“What’s going on with you?” Elaine asked.
“Pregnant,” Libby said.
“Really?” Elaine’s face lit up with excitement.
“Don’t do that around me,” Libby said. “It’s way too soon; trust me.”
Elaine gently took her hand in hers. “Can I get a little excited if I promise not to show it?”
“Okay, but that goes for Colton and Ginger too. No victory dances.” She cleared her throat and sat up, doing her best to ignore their terribly hidden goofy expressions. “How is Lofton?”
“Going to have one hell of a hangover,” Elaine said. “Which serves her right.”
“She’s worried that you don’t love her,” Libby said. “She thinks I’ve replaced her.”
“You don’t replace one child with another,” Elaine said. “You already know that.”
Elaine was right. Even if this baby made it to term, she would never forget the three other children she had carried, loved, and lost. “You can’t give me Woodmont. She’s always wanted it.”
“She doesn’t know what she wants,” Elaine countered. “If I gave her the property, she would lose interest because it’s not in her blood. She doesn’t see Woodmont the way we do. I love Lofton, but she has some growing up to do before she’s ready for that kind of responsibility.”
“Give her a break. It’s hard to see the world one way and then find out it’s not what you thought. She’ll grow up, and like me, she’ll realize Woodmont is home. Give her half ownership.”
Elaine regarded her. “I’ll give you fifty-one percent. And if you want to give her the one percent when she turns, say, fifty, then that’ll be