Page 59 of Trial By Fire
Dani yells for me to stop again, and this time I urge them to go without me, just so I could take a moment to hurl over the railing. How sad is it that I'm so used to hurling now I just do it and move on?
By the time they come back, I'm sitting in the cart, sipping water and munching on more antacids.
"You okay?" Kace asks with a look of concern as he climbs into the passenger seat.
"All good," I say with way more enthusiasm than I feel.
"The beach is just up ahead. Barring any more stops from the peanut gallery," he says with a head tilt toward his daughter, "we'll be there soon."
"This is so much fun!" Dani says from the back of the golf cart.
"Best birthday present ever?" Madi asks.
"Yes!" Dani screams, and we laugh as birds take flight.
I get us going again, and this time Dani just takes it all in as we travel along. After a few minutes though… "Madi, you want to drive?" I ask, my head really beginning to whirl.
I sense Kace looking at me with a frown, but I force a smile. "I know she doesn't have her license yet, but she'll go slow and steady and do everything you say. Right, Madi?"
"Yes, I promise."
I avoid Kace's worried gaze as the teen jumps out of the cart and waits patiently while I unsteadily climb out from behind the wheel. I keep a firm grip on the golf cart as I move the few steps to get into the back, grateful Madi and I were sitting on the same side and I don't have to walk around. My heart is racing, and I feel shaky all over.
I catch Kace repeatedly checking on me after I settle in, but I ignore him and focus on not hurling or passing out and ruining Dani's birthday trip.
Because who wants to be the party-pooper? Not this girl.
Still, if I don't get horizontal fast, Bald Head Island is about to witness a whole lot more than a birthday outing gone sideways.
Chapter 25
Kace
By the time we make it to the beach, Lindsey looks completely done in. Whatever my body notices about her beautiful form is overshadowed by my brain's awareness that Lindsey is ill. She's too pale, too drained, and I'm done pretending this is a phase she can push through by sheer will.
Our day has barely started, and I'm worried. I think she got sick earlier while we checked out one of the sites along the trail, but maybe not. I know how prickly she gets when the attention turns on her, so I keep my lips shut and continue to observe.
Despite my best efforts not to notice, I nearly swallow my tongue when she removes her T-shirt and shorts to reveal her swimsuit beneath. Like most women on the beach, Lindsey's in a two-piece. She's perfectly covered up, but her slim form is a reminder that she's unwell.
What she's gained up top thanks to the pregnancy doesn't show anywhere else, and once again, I'm convinced she's losing weight. When we get back home, I'm going to get her into a doc, even if I have to drag her to get her there. The morning sickness should be loosening its grip, but Lindsey's seems to be getting worse. Enough is enough. Time to get answers.
For now, she's stretched out in all her beautiful glory, and I'm kicking myself six ways to Sunday for not being able to take my eyes off her. I tell myself it's concern. I'm keeping an eye on her because I don't want her overdoing things. But I can't stop, either.
"Daddy! You knocked it down," Dani says loudly.
I jerk my gaze to my little girl and grimace. Instead of dumping the packed sand next to the last tower, I'd dumped it on top in my inability to focus. "Sorry, kiddo. My bad."
I glance up and find Madi eyeing me with a knowing expression. I frown at her, but her smirk gets more pronounced.
Three to one. I'm doomed.
After spending a few hours on the beach soaking up the rays beneath the nonstop breeze, watching the surfers and building a sandcastle the size of England, we decide to pack it in for lunch and then continue exploring the island.
While Dani, Mads and I gather up the sand toys and towels and the backpack cooler, I notice Lindsey moving more slowly than normal. She's sat up on her towel and tugged on her shirt and shorts, but she's pale despite the sun.
"You okay?" My question seems to spur her on, and she nods.
"Peachy."
