Correction on Course

By Mary Kit Caelsto

Linda and her husband have been trying to conceive for over a year, and she's tired. Her fluctuating hormones and the side effects from the fertility drugs are making her sick and affecting her riding. When an accidental tumble from her mare leads her husband to give her an ultimatum, Linda may have to choose. Her marriage and a chance to be a mother or her equestrian dreams.

Before she has a chance to make a decision, she develops life threatening complications and her attempt at a perfect life is turned upside down.

Note: Each book in the Noble Dreams series focuses on one character, though a fuller picture is provided by reading all the books in the series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Kit Caelsto
• Release date: Mar 20, 2018

Book preview

< Correction on Course >

Noble Dreams 2

Mary Kit Caelsto

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Correcton on Course

Copyright © Mary Kit Caelsto, 2018

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Cover Art ® 2018

Cover art by Unscramblet Author Solutions

Book formatting by Unscramblet Author Solutions (http://www.unscramblet.com)

Electronic Publication Date: March 2018

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

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Chapter One

Linda lay on the bed in the trailer’s tack room and listened to the bustle of the show around her, letting the tears seep from her eyes. Her stomach rolled. A truck drove past, the vibration through the ground enough to have her reaching for the bucket she’d set by the bed. The wave of nausea passed. This wasn’t how she thought this would be. Ivy had carried her through the round and the mare deserved better. They hadn’t placed, not that she’d expected it. Not this time, and that would be yet another fight she’d have with Kevin. Why was she doing this and spending the money if she had nothing to show for it?

Because she liked it. Because it was something she could do for herself. Not for her husband or her parents or his parents for that matter. Just her. And now with this latest round of fertility treatments, even that solace was slipping away, one nauseous day at a time.

She sat with a groan, resting her hand on the metal side of the trailer to see if she felt well enough to stand. A moment later, she was on her feet, circling the trailer to the camping toilet they’d brought with them. Sometimes the show’s portable toilets became nasty after a full day, and she didn’t want to deal with that. She used the small camping toilet they’d brought and frowned. Spotting again. Thankfully she had supplies, and she’d changed out of her white breeches after her class. If she didn’t need to stay here to take care of Ivy, she’d go home.

Footsteps outside the trailer alerted her to someone’s approach.

Linda? You okay? Eva’s voice filtered to her.

I’ll be out in a minute, she said, moving a bit too quickly to adjust her pants. She rested for a moment against the wall of the trailer and stepped out, a fake smile plastered on her face. Something wasn’t right this time around, but with each passing day her frustration built. Her husband didn’t believe her. Her doctor thought she was over reacting. Her body told the truth; something was not right.

If you want, I can take care of Ivy. My class is done. I got second. She waved the ribbon.

That’s great! Something to finally pull her focus away from her own problems. Do you mind? I’m just not feeling well today. I don’t want to put you or Cora to any trouble.

Not at all. Would you like me to walk you to your car? Eva asked.

I’ll be fine. There was that old stoicism of her grandmother showing itself again. Enjoy the show.

Eva looked at her for a moment longer and then nodded. Text me when you get home? I want to make sure you arrive safe.

Linda smiled, a genuine smile. I will. Thank you. She turned and started walking to where she’d parked her car beneath a tree not far away. She moved slowly, her pace increasing as she realized the movement wouldn’t set off her stomach again. By the time she reached her car and glanced back at the trailer, Eva was gone.

She sat behind the wheel, thankful the tears had stopped some time before her friend had shown up. Her husband hated her tears. She was doing this for his mother, and in his mind, she deserved everything—even a grandchild borne through pain and heartbreak. Her own mother had fallen ill on a trip back to China, passing away before she could get back home, five years ago. Her father had died before that. To him, she was an instrument of his family ambitions now, her own family not there to intercede, not that they’d do it. Linda chuckled. Had her parents been alive, they would press even harder for that perfect grandchild.

She made it home safely and texted Eva. Kevin worked a Saturday shift at the hospital, leaving her all alone. She showered and changed; Kevin constantly complained about her dirty horse clothes. We must have a clean environment for the baby, he said, as if the very fact she went to the barn was preventing her from conceiving. When they’d first gone through testing she’d worried it might have been her fault. In a way, it was. She, like half of Asian women, suffer from PCOS. And though they’d caught it early and she was on medication, it still made it difficult to conceive. Her husband’s low motility didn’t help matters, though he claimed it was all on her.

She loved him though. Grabbing the teddy bear he’d bought the first time she thought she was pregnant, she hugged it to her chest and laid down on the bed. Perhaps a nap would help. Light coming through the curtains hurt her eyes. Had she been paying attention, she might have closed the curtains. A wave of nausea hit her. Squeezing her eyes closed, she breathed through her mouth and tried to will it away.

This is our burden. We are strong enough, and that is why the women have children, her mother’s words echoed in her mind.

I’m not strong enough for this, Mother. She whispered back. Not strong enough at all. Taking another deep breath, the queasy feeling passed long enough for her to sit up and close the curtains. She glanced at the time on her phone. Not yet time for her medications. She went to the kitchen, made a piece of whole wheat toast with a bit of flaxseed peanut butter and poured a glass of water. Nibbling on it, she swiped through her phone to the calendar. Three weeks since her last cycle. She’d know one way or the other by next weekend.

And if she was pregnant, then what? Her husband insisted on trying naturally. They’d spoken about IVF—quickly dismissed because of cost. If God meant them to have children, then