Pregnant with the Soldier's Son. Amy Ruttan

A woman. One who was alone.

      I don’t want to be alone. And her weakness made her mad at herself.

      “Just breathe.” Clint’s voice was calming as she worked her way through more contraction. When they had passed she glanced at up at him and noticed the dark circles under his eyes. He looked haggard. Even worse than when she’d seen him before.

      “Are you okay now?” he asked, rubbing her shoulders.

      “I’m good, but you’re looking pretty tired yourself.” She reached out and touched his face.

      “Well, I was sleeping until someone came barging in and turned on the lights.”

      “Sorry.” Ingrid stood with Clint. “I honestly didn’t think anyone was in here. I’ll go home. What’re you doing?”

      Clint pulled on his shirt. “Going home with you.”

      “Pardon?”

      “The only way I’m going to make sure you’ll stay at home is if I take you there myself.”

      “You don’t have to do that.”

      Clint chuckled. “It’s not a case of me being a nice guy. It’s a case of having to get you there so that I know you’re safely tucked into bed. Give me your keys, I’ll drive.”

      Ingrid rolled her eyes. “And if you’re going to drive me in my car, how do you plan to get back here?”

      “Taxi. I think I can splurge on a cab.” Clint held out his hand. “Now, hand over your keys.”

      “I don’t think so.”

      “Don’t make me pick you up and carry you out of here.”

      “You wouldn’t dare!”

      Clint grinned in a way that made Ingrid think she shouldn’t push him. “Wouldn’t I?”

      She rolled her eyes and handed him her keys. He was a persistent guy, she’d give him that, but of course she wouldn’t expect anything less from a trauma attending and former soldier.

      This time when they walked out of the on-call room, she wasn’t in his arms, but the eyes of everyone were still on them. She kept her head held high as if she had nothing to hide, but could still feel their curious gazes boring into the back of her neck.