Spy Hard by Dana Marton

Author:Dana Marton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Suspense
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-06-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Melanie plodded forward, wet and miserable.

“Do you want me to carry the puppy?” she asked Mochi in a mixture of Spanish and hand gestures, but the boy shook his head.

Just as well. Her feet felt like lead. Not that the puppy would have added much weight. She liked the wiggling fur ball. She shuffled on, trying not to show how tired she was. Jase called for too many breaks on her account. If she slowed them down any more, they would never get to their destination. Bad enough that the detour would add another day to their journey.

They marched on until nightfall, which came way too fast. Then Jase set about making them a campsite to spend the night, starting with a fire. She helped as much as she could, then sat down once her back started to hurt. She patted her belly as her son shifted.

“Are you okay?” Jase asked immediately as he rummaged through his bag for their dinner.

“Baby is kicking. Let’s hope he finds a more comfortable spot for himself tonight. He spent last night sitting on my kidney.”

He blinked, an uncomfortable expression crossing his face. His mouth opened, then closed as he cleared his throat, obviously unsure how to respond.

“Sorry.” She flashed him an apologetic smile. “I was planning to have my girlfriends around me at this stage.” She missed not being able to talk to anyone about all the things she was experiencing, not being able to compare notes.

If there was a time in a woman’s life when she needed her friends around her, pregnancy was it.

“It’s okay.” Jase pushed the bag aside, then moved to make some herbal tea to go with their meal. “You’ll be fine.”

“Will we?” Suddenly she felt an overpowering need for reassurance. “This is not how I pictured it. I had plans…” She blinked back a rush of tears. Hormones brought them on at the most inopportune moments.

He left the water to boil and came over to her, took her hands. He rubbed a callused thumb over the back of her fingers. She soaked up the comforting touch, then she turned his hand over. His palm was a mess of blisters and calluses. He’d been working that machete hour after hour, every single day.

He didn’t seem to notice. His full attention was focused on her. “Stress is probably the worst thing for both you and the baby at this stage. I know it’s rough, but if you can, just try to roll with the punches. You made it this far. It’s almost over.”

He was right. She nodded.

“I know this is not what you’re used to, but it’s everyday business to the native tribes. Millions of women walked through endless woods like this through history, carrying their babies. And the overwhelming majority of those babies were born in good health.” He gave a flat smile. “Well, that’s what I tell myself, anyway, when the urge comes to freak out completely. I don’t have all that much experience with this.”

She smiled back and nodded.

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