Chapter 20

 It seemed like the nausea would never end. I was unsure how I could have gotten ill, especially since I never left the house. No one else in the home was sick. How could it be only me?

Time passed so slowly, and I spent all day trying not to vomit. Clara would check on me every few hours to give me water and try to convince me to eat some dry toast. The thought of food made my stomach twist, and I refused to eat.

I was curled on my side when I heard a door slam. The footsteps were heavy as someone rushed upstairs. It was much too loud and frantic to be Clara. I glanced at the clock to see that the men should not be inside for a few more hours.

The door burst open, and I rolled on my back to see Miles. He paused in the doorway and stared at me with wide eyes. The expression of shock was unlike Miles. I moved to push myself up, and he slammed the door shut before rushing over to the bed. He sat on the edge and ripped the blankets off my body.

“Miles-” I started to say.

My words were cut off when he placed his hands against my belly. I jumped at the contact and was hit with a wave of nausea. His hands were cold, and the nightgown was thin, causing goosebumps to break out across my skin. His eyes were still wide, but focused on my stomach and his hands. A smile crept onto his lips. I furrowed my brows and watched him attentively rub my stomach.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Miles had barely spoken to me since the nausea started. Most of his responses were limited to a few words. His muscles tightened every time I vomited or refused to eat. The smile was nice to see, but seemed out of place.

“It’s a baby,” he said.

What did he say to me?

A baby?

I covered my mouth with my hand to stop myself from gagging. My heart was pounding, and my head spun.

The thought had not crossed my mind. I had forgotten that women were often sick at the start of their pregnancy. I was the youngest of my siblings, so I never watched my Mother be pregnant. My siblings escaped our nightmare family before I watched them become parents. Pregnancy was something unknown and terrifying.

I looked down at his hands as he rubbed my stomach. His smile grew wider, and his eyes softened. I focused on my breathing to push away the nausea building in my throat. Once I was confident I would no longer be sick, I lowered my hand from my mouth.

“A baby,” Miles said. “You’re not sick. It is just a baby.”

My hand trembled as I placed it over his own. He looked up at me, and his expression brightened even more. I had never seen him this happy. His face had been softening since I came here, but this was a look of pure joy. He was ecstatic.

Could he see how scared I was at the thought of being pregnant?

I struggled to swallow past the lump in my throat, but he mistook my nervousness for nausea. He readjusted the pillows before pushing my shoulders back to force me to lie down. My hands ran across my stomach as he covered me with the blankets. The dresses had gotten tighter, but I assumed it was because I no longer had to skip meals. How much longer would these clothes fit? How big would I become?

Miles pushed himself up higher on the edge of the bed. He fussed with the pillows and blankets to make sure I was comfortable. The strong smell of smoke clung to his clothes. He had not taken off his jacket. Why did he rush into the room? How did he realize that I was pregnant?

He brushed my hair away from my face before cupping my cheeks. His hands were still cold from being outside, but his warm breath fanned against my face as he leaned forward. I closed my eyes when he pressed my forehead against mine. The nausea was still heavy in my stomach, and my mind raced.

A baby.

That was all I could focus on. A baby was growing inside me. I had life inside of my body. A baby that was half-me and half-Miles.

I was going to be a mother? I had no idea how to be a mother. Throughout my childhood, my mother was often drunk. There were countless nights when my siblings and I listened to her scream at my father. Her words were often an incoherent slur. It all ended after that one unspeakable night. I could not give my children that kind of life.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but a tear escaped and rolled down my cheek. My shaky breath caught Miles’s attention. He pulled back, and his brows were furrowed as he watched me struggle not to sob.

“Why are you crying?” he asked.

“I can’t do this,” I said.

My voice cracked when I spoke. I took a sharp breath, but I could not stop the tears. Miles did not move his hands while he watched me cry. He stretched out his thumb to dry my wet cheeks.

“Maisie, this is a good thing,” he said. “I don’t understand why you are sad.”

“I don’t know anything about having a baby,” I said. “How do I give birth? How do I raise a child?”

Miles moved one of his hands so he could run his fingers through my hair. I chewed on my trembling lip and focused on my breathing to stop the tears. Crying was not going to help. I needed to control my emotions.

“You have my mother,” Miles said. “She will know about all that. She can help you.”

Remembering Clara caused my pounding heart to calm. Warmth spread across my skin as I thought about her kindness. Since I came into this family, Clara has treated me like a daughter. I fantasized about having a mother like her when I was a child. Would I be a mother like Clara or resemble my own parents?

After a few deep breaths, I could control myself and stop crying. Miles watched me as I struggled to control myself.

“Do you think I will be a good mother?” I asked.

“Why wouldn’t you be?” he asked.

“My parents were awful.”

Miles froze. He stopped running his fingers through my hair as his body tensed. His smile disappeared, and he returned to his common blank expression.

“Did they hurt you?” he asked. My hesitation caused his jaw to harden as his teeth clenched. “Maisie, what did they do to you?”

“They rarely hurt me. They forgot I existed most of the time,” I said. “My older brothers and sister received the worst treatment, especially from our Father. He was a terrible drunk who could not control his anger. My Mother had a lot of the same problems and was not much better. They used to fight all the time…”

My words trailed off as memories of that terrible night flooded my mind. It had ended my family. I never spoke about it and kept those haunting memories locked in my mind. After that, my family consisted of only my grandmother and me for the next ten years.

“What are you not telling me?” Miles asked.

I let out a shaky breath to stop myself from sobbing again. Looking at Miles was impossible. My fingers fiddled with each other as I picked at my nails. I hated not being able to control my emotions, but I never discussed that night. Whenever I brought it up, my grandmother always said we could not live in the past.

“My parents hated each other,” I said. “I have no idea why they were married or how they had four children. They were always screaming or attacking each other. It was common that I could not sleep because they would be fighting in the kitchen. One night, I woke up to my mother screaming. I cannot remember why she was so upset, but she was screaming, swearing, and throwing dishes. It did not seem too odd. They had spent many nights fighting, but then I heard two gunshots. After that, my siblings all left to start their own families. My grandmother was all I had left.”

It was a miracle that I spoke without crying. Miles placed his hand over mine. The knit blanket was the only thing separating our hands. When I looked up, his soft smile had returned.

“I always wanted a different family,” I said. “I had dreams of a loving family. My grandmother told me if that was what I wanted, I would need to start my own.”

“You have your own family,” Miles said. “We are married and now are having a baby. It’s our own family.”

He pulled back the blanket again and moved my hands to expose my stomach. His large, calloused hands were delicate as he rubbed my belly. The nausea eased when I settled myself against the pile of pillows. His attention was focused on his hands and my stomach. The corner of his lips tugged into an even wider smile.

A husband and baby seemed like an impossible wish, especially since I started working at the tavern. I never thought a tender moment like this was possible.

“I love you,” I said.

Miles looked up, but his hands did not move. His smile stayed, and seeing his happiness made my heart flutter. There was no hesitation in the thought that he would do anything to protect me and our baby.