Wanting Her Healthy

As soon as he arrived, Palmer walked out of the stables to meet him and led him towards Goliath, who was barely standing. 

“What do we have here?” He asked, setting the bag down before he opened it to pull a pair of gloves out of it. 

“I'm not sure, Gunner. This is how he woke up, and I haven't seen any of our horses sick like this in years. I've been trying to reach Mom and Dad, but they're not answering,” Palmer replied, concerned. This was the horse that had gone wild on her years ago, but she still loved him.

Gunner grabbed a small tube and took a sample of some yellowish fluid coming out of his nose. He observed it before putting it in the bag, along with the other test tubes.

“I'm taking these to the lab and will check what he has, but judging by the way the fluid coming out of his nose looks, he might have Equine Influenza,” he replied, grabbing a towel to clean the horse. 

“I figured. Just wanted to make sure,” she mentioned, not looking at Gunner straight into his eyes as he cleaned his medical tools. He raised his eyebrows and observed how conflicted she looked.

“Something tells me you didn't just call me to check on Goliath. What's wrong?” He asked, curiously. Knowing his friend for years had given him the experience in figuring out the facial expression of Palmer and Faith.

“You caught me,” she replied, leaning against the wooden stall that separated the horses from them. “Is there something going on with you and Faith? She seemed a bit strange this morning when I went to visit.”

Gunner stayed silent, the tension clear on his shoulder as he grabbed the medical bag and hurried out of the stables towards his truck. Palmer was not having it; her friend would not ignore her and she knew something was definitely going on with them.

“Gunner, please. If there's anything I can do to help…”

“Nothing you can do will help, Palmer. Don't worry about us, you have a husband to take care of.” He opened the door of his pickup truck and got in, turning the ignition on before backing up on the driveway and taking off.

Palmer was left standing there, confused and concerned. She knew something was wrong with them, and she wanted to find out. But for now, she would let it be.

Walking into the house, she saw Christopher in the kitchen, cooking up some lunch for them; country music coming out of the speakers of an old radio on top of the fridge.

“How is my favorite cowboy?” she asked, wrapping her arm around his waist from behind while leaning her head against his back, taking in his woodsy scent. 

“Your favorite cowboy is doing good, thank you very much, Miss. Just getting some food ready for us.” He was tense, but with a smile on her face, the kind Christopher had fallen in love with, she turned him around and kissed his lips tenderly.

“I'm sorry about the honeymoon. Wasn't expecting for Goliath to get sick.”

“Don't beat yourself over it, we have all our lives to plan another one. So what did Gunner say he has?”

“Influenza. I knew it was, just by looking at the way he was acting. It worries me; this could kill him. I don't want to lose him like I lost Trigger.” Her concern was clear in her eyes and Christopher couldn't help but take her in his arms, lift her on top of the counter and kiss her senseless, taking all her worries away.

“I'm sure he'll be fine. Just plenty of rest and keep a watchful eye on him. Goliath is a resilient horse, he'll pull through.”

Palmer nodded, knowing Christopher was right as she smiled at him, giving him another sweet kiss. “So, what are we cooking today?” she asked, stirring the pot.

“I'm making New England Clam Chowder. It's something I wanted you to try; very popular back home, or at least further north,” he chuckled as he grabbed a small spoon and had Palmer test the rich creamy soup. She moaned at the flavor, kissing Christopher on his lips in gratitude for feeding her today after a long morning. 

“So, I was at Faith and Gunner's ranch earlier, and seeing little Cheyenne laughing and playing with her had me thinking.”

Christopher raised his eyebrows, looking at Palmer, curious to see where the conversation was going.

“Since we have the SUV, and I told Faith we were trying for a baby, what if we had one of our own?”

He stopped stirring the chowder, and leaned against the counter in silence, taking a deep breath.

“Are you sure you don't want to wait a bit longer?” He asked, his heart beating fast inside his chest.

“I'm sure. I think we're ready and after being four years apart, I don't want to wait anymore,” Palmer replied, holding his hand against her chest, looking at him with adoring eyes. “I would love to have a mini-you or a mini-me running around the house. One with your eyes and my hair. To fill the house with laughter and little footsteps, getting the entire kitchen muddy after working with the horses out in the fields.”

The idea sounded wonderful and at the same time scary for him, but he would respond to his duties as her husband, turning off the stove before picking her up bridal style, leading her to the bedroom, ready to show her what a good husband he was.

~♡~♡~♡~

Gunner walked into the house after a long day at the clinic and saw Faith sitting on the living room couch, looking at the fireplace burning while tucked in under a small blanket, drinking hot chocolate.

Her eyes were stuck in the beautiful orange and yellow hues coming from the hot flame on the pine-scented lumber.

He put down his bag and kicked off his shoes in the mudroom before joining her.

“Hey, lovely. How was your day?” he asked, patting her knees while kissing her cheek lovingly. She smiled at the gesture, but there was still a huge turmoil in her heart.

“It was quiet. Cheyenne took naps and now I just put her down for her night sleep. And I was just deep in thoughts.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, leaning his head against hers as they just sat there, in silence.

“We're going to lose everything. Even her,” Faith mentioned, referring to their daughter. 

“No, baby. We're not. I have been looking for doctors all over the state and trying to find the best one to perform that surgery on her. She's going to be fine,” Gunner said, trying to reassure his fiancée. 

“How? We don't have enough money, not even to save the ranch your father worked so hard for.” She was desperate; tears streaming down her cheeks. “I'm scared.”

Cheyenne suffered from a delicate heart condition, diagnosed at birth. Their local doctor had treated her as best as he could but had suggested getting her surgery. Faith was fearful and had rejected it on the spot.

But now that she thought of it, she regretted it and she wasn't sure if there would be anyone who could help their daughter.

“I know you are. I am too, but we have to be strong and face everything together. And also give you the wedding you deserve.”

Faith looked at him with a soft smile on her face. He was still thinking about her in a moment like this.

“I thought about it and I don't need a huge wedding. Why don't we go to the city hall and just sign the papers? All I want is to be your wife, Gunner Travis. I don't need the whole celebration.”

“But you deserve…” Faith put her fingers on his lips, shaking her head while leaning on his shoulder.

“I don't want to talk about it now. I just want our daughter to be healthy.”

Gunner asked her if she had told Palmer about it, but Faith shook her head again, stating she didn't want to bother their friends with something like that. They would take pity on them, and she didn't want or need it.

“They’re living an amazing life, I don't want to bring our problems to them,” she mentioned, leaning down to put her head on his lap as he caressed her hair lovingly.

“They're still our friends.”

“It doesn't feel like it anymore,” she whispered before drifting into a deep sleep. Gunner didn't have time to ask her what she meant or even about the online school when he also fell asleep with his head against the back of the couch. 

Just wishing they were both back in high school, without worries.