Karen Smith - The Daddy Verdict

She looked like a little kid who’d dropped ice cream on her shoe, and he was ready to take a few steps toward her when Sierra’s face suddenly turned a little greener and she made a beeline for the bathroom cubicle again.

Camille whispered to him, “Don’t embarrass her. Let me handle this.”

He didn’t want to let Camille handle this. No one else handled his responsibilities but him. But then he thought about Sierra, her pale face, her weak smile, the way she’d left his room because everything had become too intense.

He always knew what to do, and he hated the fact he was teetering on the brink of indecision now. “Five minutes,” he agreed. “I’ll wait outside for five minutes. But if you’re not out, I’m coming in. I’m taking her to a doctor if I have to.”

“She doesn’t need a doctor,” Camille assured him with a shake of her head. “She just needs some soda and a few crackers. Men. If they had to have babies—”

“Okay, I won’t stay for the lecture.” With a last look at the bathroom stall, he closed the door to the ladies’ room to wait.

The five minutes were almost up when both Sierra and Camille stepped outside the door. Sierra was holding her purse, twisting the silver chain. “I’m fine.”

She did not look fine. He remembered her high color that day in his office, as well as upstairs in the bedroom. She was unnaturally pale and looked a little shaky.

“I’m taking you back to the hacienda.”

Sierra turned to Camille. “I don’t want to leave the reception.”

“I’m just going to throw the bouquet and then we’re off, too,” she said. Gently taking Sierra by the elbow, she guided her to a chair at the periphery of the room. “Do you need to sit for a few minutes?”

When Sierra shook her head, Ben had the illogical, irrational desire to sweep her up into his arms and carry her to the car. How crazy was that?

“I’ll tell Mrs. Padilla and my mom that you went back to the hacienda,” Camille said. “Elena’s there. She left a little while ago. She’ll let you in.”

Elena was the Padillas’ housekeeper who also kept the home fires burning. She was Val’s age and in lots of ways reminded Ben of Nathan’s housekeeper. They both cared deeply about the families they took care of.

Five minutes later as Ben and Sierra left the inn, Ben took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders again to keep her warm in the cool night air. After he went to retrieve his SUV and pulled up in front, the doorman helped Sierra inside.

She settled in, fastened her seat belt and laid her head back against the headrest. “I’m sorry this happened. I should have known better.”

“Does this happen often?”

“No, just when I eat something too rich—cheesecake, crème brûlée. I guess I’ll be eating healthy throughout my pregnancy.”

“Are you sure it’s normal?”

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