QUOTE : By suppertime the following day, Nic was ready to declare the honeymoon officially over. Her husband was a tyrant. First he demanded she hang a Closed sign on the clinic door and refer her patients to the vet hospital in Creede. No amount of calm, collected insistence that she could still perform her job while on crutches moved him. Next he refused to leave the bathroom while she hung her head over the toilet for her daily dose of morning sickness. Even if she did appreciate his steadying hands at her waist and his help keeping her hair out of the way, that didn’t mean she shouldn’t have control over who accompanied her to the bathroom under what circumstances. Finally, when she mentioned her intention to go to Cavanaugh House after supper for a meeting Celeste had requested, he took it upon himself to arrange for the meeting to be moved to Nic’s house without even asking her if she cared. “Of all the nerve,” she grumbled as she sat in the overstuffed chair in her living room, her injured leg propped on an ottoman, flipping through the mail he’d brought in from the mailbox moments before. The worst part of it was that she knew he was right about just about everything.