Home on the Ranch--The Cowboy's Dilemma

by Pamela Britton

  That was what he told himself.

  It didn’t take long for the smell of bacon to permeate the house again. He brewed a pot of coffee, too. She didn’t say a word and when he peeked a head into the family room, she’d rested her head against the back of the couch, and for a moment he thought she might be asleep again. He didn’t move, suddenly intrigued with how her brows swept upward like the wings of a flying hummingbird. She had olive-colored skin and he wondered if the amazing color of her eyes was a family trait. They were like olivine stones with flecks of blue in them.

  What are you doing?

  “Breakfast is ready.”

  Her eyes snapped open. Not asleep, then. Maybe just dozing. Her gaze flicked around the room.

  “Do you want me to bring you a plate?”

  “No, no.” She shifted. “I can walk.”

  Still, he kept a wary eye on her, noticing the way she swayed on her feet for a bit. She gave him a gamine grin, but he knew it was all an act.

  “Wow.” She paused and closed her eyes, tipping her head back and inhaling. “This smells so good.”

  He almost laughed. There was such a look of delight on her face that it could have been a seven-layer cake in front of her.

  “Have a seat.”

  She wasted no time in sitting and digging into her plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, and he sat down across from her and simply watched. She ate with the zeal of a five-year-old.

  She paused long enough to ask, “You’re not going to eat?”

  He shook her head, biting back a smile. “I already did.”

  She nodded and went back to eating again, saying between bites, “The thing about pregnancy is that really strange things begin to happen. I mean, you can toss your cookies one minute and be ravenously hungry the next.” She shook her head. “And you’re so sleep deprived you could probably take a nap beneath the engine of a 747. And my sense of smell. It’s incredible.” She shoveled in another bite. “I was driving down the road when I started to smell a cigarette. I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. But then I realized the car in front of me had its window down and I could smell the person smoking inside.” She nodded in emphasis. “But we were driving down the road. I mean, like, fifty miles per hour and my windows were all rolled up but I was suddenly smelling the smoke inside my car.”

  He felt his brows lift.

  “I know, right? I didn’t make the connection that it was because of my pregnancy that I could do that until the doctor told me yesterday when I learned pregnancy turns you into some kind of superwoman bloodhound.” Half the orange juice was gulped down in a few seconds. “But I’m so tired all the time. I hate it. I have a Christmas wedding that I’m planning. I love Christmas. It’s my favorite time of year and I’ve really been looking forward to it. Now I’m wondering if I’ll sleep through the holiday.”

  “You want some more?”

  She looked down at her plate as if surprised to note she’d eaten everything on it. “Oh, uh, no. That’s okay.” She set her fork down. “It was really good, though. I feel so much better.”

  She looked better, too. The spectacular green of her eyes was illuminated by the window behind him. It had darkened outside, the air having grown thick with moisture. No doubt about it—rain was on the way.

  “We should probably get going.”

  Just then, he heard the first fat plops of moisture on his roof. She looked up. He did, too, as a slow pattering turned into a soft drumroll, one that grew louder and louder.

  “I don’t think we’ll be taking a tour anytime soon.”

  He got up, peering out the kitchen window. It was pouring.

  Son of a—

  “Doesn’t change the fact that I still have chores to do back at the barn,” he murmured more to himself than to her.

  “Perfect. Let me help.”

  When he met her gaze, he realized she was serious.

  “I mean, I don’t know anything about horses, but I bet I could brush them and stuff. Or pick up the poop for you.”

  Pick up the poop?

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “No. It’s perfect. I can help out while we wait for it to let up. You can answer questions about your brother and future sister-in-law. That way I can start formulating ideas.”

  “Why don’t I just call them and see if they want to come over?”

  “You could do that, too.”

  Except Charlotte was at work and he’d bet Maverick wouldn’t want a thing to do with planning his own wedding.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s head back to the barn.” He put the last of the dishes in his sink. “I’ll text Charlotte and Maverick and see if they could meet us.”

  And Jayden, too, because he was back to thinking that being pregnant couldn’t make someone that sleepy and hungry.

  Turned out he was wrong. He had his answer before they even walked out of his house. His sister texted back three words.

  Yes. It. Can.

  He shoved the phone back in his pocket. Great.

  * * *

  Amy watched as he frowned down at his phone before tucking it into his back pocket. Probably his girlfriend. A man like him probably had women coming out his ears.

  “We’ll have to make a run for it,” he said, handing her an oversize jacket and placing a black cowboy hat on his head. “Once we get into the ATV we should be okay, though. The sides will protect us.”

  She didn’t want to leave the house. If she was honest, she would have been happy to stay there all day. Who was she kidding? Right now all she wanted was a blanket and a fluffy pillow and preferably a warm fire.

  They both made a dash toward the ATV, Amy grateful for the windbreaker he’d given her to wear. It had a hood and she pulled it up over her ponytail as she ran down a river-rock pathway. She dived for cover inside the ATV. Flynn did the same thing, the two of them sitting there for a moment to catch their breath and shake water off themselves.

  The jacket smelled like him, a musky scent tinged with pine and maybe vanilla. She leaned her head into the collar. Nope. Not vanilla. Talc.

  When she glanced over at him she realized he watched her with an odd expression on his face. She straightened guiltily.

  “Whew,” she said. “It’s really coming down.”

  He didn’t say anything, just looked away and then started the ATV, pushing some buttons a second later. A single-blade wiper began to move and the warm blast of heated air hit her square in the face.

  “Forget taking a nap in your house. I’ll just cuddle up here for the rest of the day.”

  She tossed him a smile. He didn’t return it, and even though she knew it shouldn’t matter, her spirits sank. For some reason it was important to her that he like her. She didn’t want him to think of her as a freeloader. She’d gotten herself into a bit of trouble, but it was only temporary.

  Her stomach gurgled.

  Well, some of it was temporary.

  “Was that your stomach?”

  The sting of embarrassment colored her face. “I think it’s forgotten what food feels like.”

  His brows lifted. “It sounded like you might have more than a baby stashed inside there.”

  He put the ATV in gear and she turned to peer out the window. Baby. She still hadn’t had time to get used to the idea. Trent had stopped taking her calls. It had broken her heart in a way she would never have thought possible. How could he do this to her? How had she picked such a horrible man to father her child? What the heck was she going to do?

  She’d done some research on the internet last night and learned that paternity tests cost a small fortune. And even if she could scrounge up the money, there was the whole getting-Trent-to-cooperate thing to consider. She really didn’t want to talk to him. It hurt too much. But she doubted he’d voluntarily submit his DNA, so there wo
uld more than likely be huge court costs.

  She sighed.

  How had she made such a complete muck of her life? And in record time, too. She should win a prize. Submit her name for the Most Likely to Have Ruined Her Life contest. And then there was the whole telling-her-mom thing to deal with. She hadn’t talked to her mom in months, but sooner or later she would have to be told what was going on, because if she didn’t, she’d never hear the end. And to think a few months ago she’d been congratulating herself on actually making something of her life as opposed to her mom.

  “You know, if you’d rather do this another day, we could do that,” he said. “The tour thing.”

  “No. That’s okay.” She couldn’t do that. This was it. Her new reality. Wedding planner with a belly. Sooner or later she’d have to figure everything out. Might as well start now. It would only get harder with time.

  “I’m serious about helping you out with your horses, though.”

  “They’re not my horses.”

  “Okay. But I want to help.”

  He shook his head and she knew he’d probably refuse because he was the kind of man who didn’t think women should do physical labor when they were in a delicate condition. Little did he know. There was nothing delicate about her. She’d worked all through high school, sometimes three jobs, managing her studies and work and saving up for college. She’d graduated with honors and secured a scholarship and then worked her tail off maintaining her GPA while holding down a full-time job with an event planner. Work was her middle name.

  “You can brush horses or something.”

  Brush horses. That she could do.

  “I have some calls I need to make. Maybe by the time I’m done it won’t be raining.”

  She glanced through the front windshield. Wishful thinking.

  Chapter 4

  He parked “Greenie” or whatever it was called in the same spot it’d been before. It was only a few steps to the back of the barn, but her jacket looked like she’d been dunked in a lake by the time they made it to shelter.

  “Whew.” She turned back and stared outside. It almost seemed like a sheet of plastic covered the opening, it was coming down so hard. A horse nickered. It startled her, but he didn’t seem fazed, just said, “Help yourself to the brushes in the box right there. I’ll be in the office for a bit.”

  “Okay, sure.” She’d never brushed a horse before, but how hard could it be? “Any horse in particular?”

  He motioned toward the barn aisle. “Take your pick.”

  Why did she have the feeling he couldn’t wait to part company with her? He dashed away so fast she was left standing there alone, a breeze wafting into the barn and causing her to shiver.

  “Okay, then,” she said under her breath, turning toward the first stall on her right. Two friendly eyes stared at her from behind bars.

  “You look like you’re in lockup,” she told the brown-colored horse. “Equine jail, poor thing.” She scooped up a brush from the box hanging on the wall. “Would you like your hair brushed? I bet that would feel good, huh?”

  The first challenge she encountered was the latch on the stall door. It was like some kind of IQ test or something with a handle-like thing that flipped up and a bar that slid to the side. She’d assumed the door would swing open. She’d presumed wrong. It took her a moment to figure out it slid to the side, the stall front and the bars all one big panel. And then, when she finally slipped inside, the horse came toward her in a way that made her bolt back out and slide the door closed.

  “You can’t do that,” she told the horse. “You have to stay back. I don’t know you that well.”

  The animal peered at her in a nonchalant, clearly nonplussed way...at least, judging by the look in its eyes. Amy peered at the horse inside its room and wondered if she should just ask Flynn if she could do something else, like sweep or something.

  “Okay, let’s try this again.” She shooed the horse away from outside the stall. The brown horse obediently stepped back. “Go on,” she told it. “Move back.”

  It was as if it understood her words, backing up so that she wasn’t as intimidated as before. She gingerly stepped inside, but she straightened in surprise when she spotted the size of the horse’s belly.

  “Dear goodness, either you swallowed a hippopotamus or you’re pregnant, too.”

  The mare blew her breath out her nose, and Amy would swear it was a sigh.

  “I feel your pain. As it happens, I’m pregnant, too.” She stuck her hand out, the mare sniffing her fingers. It calmed her fears enough that she took another step closer, her hand falling on the mare’s long black mane, her warmth a complete surprise. “Do your breasts ache, too?” she softly asked her. “And I can’t imagine it’s easy to sleep with your stomach as big as it is.”

  She brought the brush up, pulled it through the mare’s mane. “I’m not looking forward to the later part of my pregnancy, let me tell you.”

  She lifted her other hand, stroking the coat beneath the mane, the motion easing the ache in her heart. She’d have to do it all on her own. Single pregnant mom.

  “Have you been a mom before?” she asked the horse. “That’s the other thing that scares the heck out of me. What kind of mom will I be? I mean, look at my own childhood. I’m not exactly the poster child for impending motherhood, am I? My mom made it clear she wanted nothing to do with me when she moved across the country to Florida without even telling me. And then there’s the whole single-parent thing. I can barely manage my business as it is. How am I supposed to do it while raising a child, too?”

  The mare lowered her neck and Amy could tell she enjoyed her scratches and the brushing, and it was the craziest thing, because all of a sudden Amy felt better. The smell of a horse wasn’t all that unpleasant. Kind of like a cross between a dog and the rabbit her best friend, Patty, had owned when she was a child.

  “At least you have a nice comfy room and someone to take care of you.” She scratched up near the mane and the horse dropped its head even more, nose stretching out in a way that made it clear she loved what Amy was doing. So she scratched harder. “I thought about moving back in with my mom, but I really, honestly think I’d rather do anything than that. Some things are just not worth the trouble. Still, I have to think about what’s best for my baby.”

  She paused for a moment, her hand dropping to her belly. Her baby.

  Would Trent change his mind about wanting to be a part of his or her life? How would they work out custody if that happened? What if he did the same thing to her baby that Amy’s own dad had done to her? What if he never wanted a thing to do with their child? Or with her? Because as strange as it seemed, there was a part of her that hoped maybe he’d change his mind, come back to her, be there for her and their baby.

  A nose softly nudged her. Amy turned in surprise, to see gentle brown eyes peering at her as if to ask “You okay?”

  “Sorry,” she said, wiping away tears. She moved around to the front of the horse, playing with the hair that sprouted between the horse’s ears. “You’re a kindhearted girl, aren’t you?”

  The horse lifted its head, its nose nuzzling her jacket. “I would give anything to be you right now. Warm room. Meals. Someone to take care of you if you get into trouble.” She touched her belly again, glancing down at the barely noticeable bump. “It’s me and you, kid. You and me against the world. I hope I’m not making the world’s biggest mistake. But I guess time will tell.”

  The mare nudged her again. Amy straightened, taking a deep breath.

  Suddenly, she’d never been more terrified in her life.

  * * *

  Flynn stared at the computer monitor connected to his foaling system, watching as Amy scratched Boonie, the mare he’d bought on behalf of his father last year.

  You and me against the world.

  She clearly had no clue a ca
mera watched her every move and picked up her every word. With horses as valuable as these, they couldn’t take a chance something might go wrong during foaling. In another week he’d put a monitor on the mare, one that would chime an alert when she lay down to have her baby, but for now she stood calmly in Amy’s arms, two kindred spirits.

  “Are you scared, too?” he heard her ask. “I’ve got to be honest, horsey, I’m terrified.”

  He got up from his chair. Nobody had answered the phone at Dr. Stewart’s. No reason to keep hiding in the office, eavesdropping on a conversation that was none of his business. But he paused in the doorway of his office, swiping a hand over his face. He should leave her alone. Let her fend for herself. She was a grown woman.

  Except he knew he couldn’t. With a certainty that both irritated and alarmed him, he knew he was in this for the long haul, whatever this was. If he walked away now, it’d be like finding an abandoned kitten on the road and letting it fend for itself. It just wasn’t in his nature.

  So he squared his shoulders and walked toward Amy. Boonie raised her head, alerting Amy that she had a visitor. She turned, dashing away tears. It broke his heart.

  “I have an idea,” he said.

  She stepped back from the horse. He saw her gaze catch on the brush in her hand as if she’d forgotten it was there.

  “My dad has lots of pictures of our place up at his house. Instead of waiting for the rain to let up, why don’t I take you up there? We can peek through some pictures my mom put away while I tell you a little more about my brother and future sister-in-law. Give you a feel for who they are and all that.”

  “I don’t know.” Her hand still softly stroked the mare’s face. “You said you have chores and things to do. I can help. We can talk while we work.”

  “My chores can wait.”

  But it was clear she didn’t want to impose. She peered up at him with eyes full of dismay and discomfort. “Look, maybe we should just do this later.”

  “Nah. I’d rather get it over with.”