Hannah made Riley feel vulnerable. He didn't understand what it was about her that touched him in ways no other woman ever had. One hurt look from her had the most curious effect upon him. It was as though someone had viciously kicked him in the solar plexus. The irony of it all was that the person Riley sought to protect her from most was himself. His insensitivity. His pride. His anger.
If what he felt for Hannah was love, Riley couldn't say. His brushes with the emotion were best described as brief. He cared about her in ways that had never concerned him with others. That was understandable, though; no other woman had ever carried his child. He was anxious about her health; she was a fragile thing, delicate and rare. It seemed all he could do was make her as comfortable as possible, and that felt like damn little.
Other than a few slips, Riley was working hard at gaining her trust. Convincing her to share his bed was motivation enough. He longed to have her by his side, to rest his head upon her stomach and feel for himself the new life her body nurtured. Every once in a while he'd lie awake and grow wistful, dreaming of the time she would willingly turn into his arms and snuggle her lush womanly body next to his own. Marriage had made him fanciful, Riley decided. He'd enjoyed the physical delights a woman's body could give him from the time he was in his teens, but he seldom spent the night with a woman. Hannah had been an exception from the first. He'd wanted her the night he met her in Seattle, and nothing had changed. The fact she was in love with another man didn't seem to matter.
The time Dr. Underwood, the obstetrician, spent with Hannah added to Riley's concern about his wife's pregnancy. The doctor took several minutes to talk to them both, and ordered blood tests for Hannah.
Riley's concern must have registered because Dr. Underwood took a few extra minutes to explain the reasons for the additional tests. He strongly suspected Hannah was still anemic, and as soon as the results were available he would write a prescription for a higher dosage of iron tablets. There were several questions Riley had, as well, although it was apparent Hannah felt it irrelevant to have Riley bring up her sleeping habits and the fact she still suffered from occasional bouts of morning sickness.
Riley was silent on the short drive back to the base. His mind was digesting the answers the doctor had given him. If the truth be known, he was worried. Damn worried.
"You're being awfully quiet," she said as they exited the freeway. "Is something troubling you?" Casting anxious glances his way, she seemed to be waiting for him to make some declaration. Riley hadn't a clue what she wanted him to say.
"I'm fine," he answered shortly.
She gazed out the window then, turning her head away from him. Feeling bad for the brusqueness with which he'd responded to her, he reached for her hand, lacing her fingers with his own. "I'm concerned you're not eating the way you should be," he said as an explanation.
"I'm very conscious of everything that goes into my mouth."
"You pick at your food. I swear you don't eat enough to keep a bird alive."
"That's ridiculous."
Riley swallowed a tart reply. The last thing he wanted to do was argue with her, although she seemed to be looking for an excuse herself. They'd done too much of that in the past few days. He didn't want to leave for the training exercises with matters strained between them – at least not any more strained than they already were.
"I've gained two pounds since I was in to see my family doctor," she said, apparently unwilling to let the matter rest.
He didn't respond, knowing it wouldn't help to chastise her further. "You promise to take the iron tablets?"
"Of course," she returned, then hesitated before adding, "Junior is my baby, too, you know."
Junior. Riley cracked a smile. He'd nearly forgotten there was a baby involved in all this. His primary concern had been for Hannah, so much so that he'd forgotten the very reason she was sitting at his side.