Something Borrowed

Chapter 26

Amelia

"I hate being pregnant." Amelia shifted her aching rear on the hard wooden bench and arched her back, wishing she could draw a full breath. One evening, a few weeks ago, she'd eaten more than her fair share of dinner and gone to bed feeling like she couldn't fill her lungs against her overstuffed stomach.

The feeling hadn't gone away. She couldn't breathe. She was constantly running to use the toilet. Plus, her wild child of a son never seemed to sleep. He was forever tossing himself about inside her, kicking her in the ribs and banging his little skull against her spine. At first it had been miraculous. Everyone in the family had taken turns pressing their hands against her belly, feeling the life inside her celebrate his athleticism. Now she was rather wishing she and Brent had spawned a quieter, more sedate kind of offspring. 

When her complaint garnered only silence, she turned her head to glare at her husband, who reclined beside her on the seat, reins in one hand, the other arm draped over the seatback behind her. He didn't look at her, but she could tell by the way his lip twitched that he felt her ardor.

"It's absolutely hellish," she went on, as if he'd asked for elaboration. "Spring is my favorite season, you know, and instead of enjoying it I'm miserable. You promised me I'd be dancing around barefoot in the grass when the weather warmed up, but we'll never know if you were right because I can barely waddle from one room to the next!"

He chuckled at that. "You're hardly that ungainly, Ames," he said mildly, bumping her shoulder with his arm. "It's more of a shuffle than a waddle."

It was times like this that she really, truly wished Josh was the man who had planted this seed inside her. He was so damn casual about everything, and it made her absolutely furious. Not that his innocence in her condition staid her tongue. She still lashed out at him, but she always felt badly afterwards. It would be easier if he was to blame for the whole situation. More fun. Then she could really tear him apart. This is your damn fault, she would yell, stamping her foot and waving her finger. The least you could do is take my complaints seriously! It's your child I'm carrying. Your heir I'm bringing into the world! Coddle me! Tolerate me! Humor me, dammit!

"I am absolutely that ungainly!" she exclaimed, leaning back and placing her hands on the roundness of her stomach. "Look at me, Josh! Look! I look like I've swallowed a pumpkin!"

He laughed again, and she had to clench her teeth to keep from smiling with him.

"Look at these elephant feet!" she went on, struggling to prop one foot against the front of the wagon and tugging up her dress. Even through her wool sock, the thickness of her ankle was evident. "You think I enjoy walking around on these stumps all day?"

"Amelia--"

"And don't get me started on my moods," she warned.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare," he laughed.

She snapped her mouth shut and glared at him. "What does that mean?" she asked through her teeth, watching his eyes grow wide and his hands tighten on the reins as he stared straight ahead. She could practically hear his brain struggling to measure the amount of trouble he'd just created for himself. "What does that mean, Joshua?" she asked again, trying not to smile. Struggling not to throw her unwieldy body across the bench and kiss him. He was so easy to scold, and so dratted adorable when she chastised him. She'd probably feel badly for lashing out at him even if he was the man responsible for her condition.

"I didn't mean anything by it, Ames," he said, his brow deeply furrowed as he glanced over at her, cautiously removing his arm from behind her and holding the reins in both hands. As if creating physical distance might save him.