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His Pregnant Texas Sweetheart (Peach Leaf, Texas)

Page 3

by Amy Woods


  “On what?”

  “On whether or not they have the right kind of rings at that piddly old shop on Main.”

  She glared at him.

  Peach Leaf had always been too small for Ryan Ford.

  He’d always wanted more—a fact Katie resented for the obvious implication that Peach Leaf was a small town full of small people. Including her.

  He had always wanted to find something bigger...ever since they were kids. And she had always known he would. Even if Sarah’s unplanned pregnancy hadn’t separated him and Katie, something else eventually would have.

  She would do well to remind herself of that the next time he bent over to check her truck’s engine.

  “All right, well. Let me make a call and see if they have what I need.” She reached inside the truck for her purse. “Maybe if they do, they can send someone over here with it.”

  “Nonsense,” Ryan said.

  “Huh?”

  He rolled his eyes. “That’s not necessary. You’re obviously—” he raised a hand to gesture in the general area of her stomach “—in no condition to wait out here for someone from the shop. October or not, it’s too hot for you to sit around outside. I’ll take you over there. If they have the parts, we can pick them up and bring them back here. You have tools, don’t you?”

  She glanced up at him and nodded. He was serious. He really planned to take her to the store. “I don’t know what you’re here for or what your schedule is, but I really doubt it includes taking me over to Main Street to buy truck parts.”

  Ryan’s jaw tightened. “You always did have trouble accepting favors.”

  “And you had trouble sticking around.” The ugly statement was out before she could censor it, and Katie slapped a hand over her mouth. It might be true, but that didn’t mean it was okay to speak out loud. Her words were harsh and hateful, and she instantly regretted their escape.

  The hurt she’d caused passed quickly behind Ryan’s eyes and then it was gone, but his tone became detached, cold. “Just let me take you to the store, Katie. I’ll help you fix your truck and then I’ll leave you alone. How’s that?”

  It should have been fine. It should have been exactly what she wanted to hear. She’d been curious about what had become of Ryan Ford many times over the years. Of course she had. She’d wanted to know about his life. What kind of job he had. Where he lived. Did he stay married to Sarah...and how was the child the two had made together? But now that she’d seen him—without a wedding ring, she noticed, and looking quite well—it should have been enough to let him go permanently. He’d obviously been fine without her all this time, hadn’t he? Of course he had been, or he would have made an attempt to get in touch. So why wasn’t his promise enough?

  Why did she find herself searching for a reason—any reason—to get him to stay a little longer?

  She shoved aside all rational thought and did something supremely stupid.

  “What if they don’t have it?” she asked, locking up her truck before following Ryan to his vehicle—the same Jeep he’d bought with money he’d earned himself when he’d turned sixteen. Only now it was in much better shape. He’d obviously spent a lot of time and put a lot of hard work into it. She had always loved that about Ryan. He always knew exactly what he wanted and worked at it until he got it.

  Too bad he didn’t want me.

  He opened the passenger door for Katie and held out a hand to help her inside. The gesture made her heart do a little flip. She knew to appreciate gentlemanly gestures when she saw them, which was maddeningly rare.

  “Well,” he said, shutting her door. He got in the driver’s seat and started up the engine. “I guess they’ll have to order some, which means—” he turned to grin at her “—that you’ll have to wait.”

  “That’s just the thing, though. I need my truck for the Pumpkin Festival in two days.”

  Ryan’s eyes lit up slightly at the mention of the event. It was so subtle that if she’d blinked, Katie would have missed it.

  “I volunteered to drive in the hayride at the festival this year, and I’m picking up a kiddo who doesn’t have a ride to the campground.”

  Something changed in his eyes when she’d said those words, and Katie wondered what she could say to get that little burst of light back. Ryan had always loved the Pumpkin Fest. What had she said that bothered him?

  “It’s not a problem,” he said, his voice low and unnervingly tender. “If your truck’s not fixed in time, I’ll take you, and we can use my truck for the hayride.”

  Ryan dropped the words and started up his Jeep as if he hadn’t just offered a favor that would save her last festival. Katie was glad he didn’t look over at her then because he would have caught the traces of a smile she didn’t want to let him have.

  Chapter Three

  “It’s going to take how long to fix?” Katie asked, leaning over the front counter of the auto shop on Main. The teenager behind the long Formica worktop leaned back as Katie’s face drew dangerously near his own, his eyes wide with worry. Ryan bit back laughter as the grown woman and young man went back and forth futilely over how long it would take for the order of the new parts for Katie’s truck to come in.

  Same old spunky Katie.

  There were a few changes, of course, all of them good.

  She still wore her glossy dark hair long, he noted, pleased. Her eyes were the same sparkling shade of brown, almost mahogany in the daytime, but black as night when the sun went down, and then there was her body...more womanly now, more deliciously curvy in her fitted dark jeans and pink plaid camp shirt. The whole picture delighted him.

  “Look, Miss Bloom,” the harried-looking kid said, holding his hands out in surrender, “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but the fact is we can’t fix the problem without those rings, and it ain’t so easy to find spare parts for a vehicle of that—” he swallowed slowly, choosing his words with meticulous care, evidently having dealt with Katie’s befuddling love of her piece-of-junk vehicle on prior occasions “—production year.”

  Ryan and the teenager—Billy, his name tag read—exchanged a look, neither of them certain whether or not the clerk had succeeded in appeasing the aggravated woman between them. Katie shoved a fist onto each of her hips, still slim but newly curved from pregnancy—the pregnancy that sent a confusing rush of emotions through Ryan’s heart each time he noticed it anew.

  “Billy Greene, are you calling my truck old?” Katie challenged, her cheeks flushing pink.

  Billy gulped again, but this time he raised his chin and met Katie’s eyes.

  Good, Ryan thought. Maybe she would finally let it go and accept the terms so they could leave the shop. Ryan’s stomach grumbled again, as if he needed a reminder of how hungry he was. Mrs. Jenkins had given him a meal at the pub, but with all their catching up and then running into the woman who now stood in a stare-down with the auto-parts clerk, he’d only been able to scarf down a few bites.

  “Miss Bloom,” Billy said again, his voice squeaking a little over the words, “I’ve ridden in that old—” Katie’s mouth dropped open but Billy ignored her “—yes, old, truck many a time to the Pumpkin Festival campout, and I love that thing just like all the other kids in this town.”

  Katie’s shoulders seemed to relax ever so slightly.

  “But I’m not a darn magician, and that part is pretty hard to come by.” Billy took a deep breath, bracing himself once more. “So I’m real sorry, Miss Bloom, but you’re just going to have to wait.”

  Ryan had to hold back yet another laugh at the silly exchange and, if he hadn’t imagined it, Billy even stomped his foot to add finality to his statement. Katie’s wound-up features loosened a little more and she leaned forward to grab her purse from the counter, pulling out a credit card. Ryan fought the urge to stop her and pay for the part himself; Katie wasn’t his to take care of. He noticed he’d had to remind himself of that fact much too often in the few hours they’d spent together that afternoon.
/>   “Oh, all right,” she said, releasing a heavy breath. Billy’s shoulders slipped down a bit, but his eyes betrayed remaining caution.

  Ryan didn’t miss a slight tremor at the corner of Katie’s mouth as Billy rang up the bill, and he noticed how tightly she gripped the card as she passed it across the counter, letting go reluctantly when Billy reached out to accept it.

  Why was Katie so clearly worried about money?

  She’d yet to text or call anybody to let them know she was stuck with car problems. The last he’d known, after high school she’d worked at Jimmy and Maude’s pub, but surely she’d moved on since... She was possibly even engaged or, worse, married—he knew from experience that pregnancy caused otherwise wedding-band-adorned fingers to swell—so where was the guy who’d gotten her into her current situation?

  Katie was a grown woman now, perfectly capable of caring for a child on her own, but the thought of her being forced to do so caused a burning sensation in Ryan’s chest, which he promptly blamed on Mrs. Jenkins’s chicken.

  As soon as she finished paying and Billy promised to call the instant her truck was ready, Ryan placed a tentative hand on Katie’s shoulder, leading her out of the shop and back to his Jeep. He’d had his share of inconveniences as a result of owning an older vehicle, but his income meant they were easily handled.

  As Ryan opened the passenger door and helped a deflated Katie inside, he chastised himself for caring so damn much. He owed Katie exactly nothing, and that was precisely how much he guessed she wanted to do with him. And as he glanced over at her gently rounded middle as he slid his seat-belt buckle into place, he had to fight to swallow past a lump in his throat. As much as he tried, he couldn’t help but wonder about the baby inside her.

  Finding out more about the developing child would open an old wound he’d rather not revisit. So he couldn’t have been more surprised at himself when he opened his big mouth a second later.

  He cleared his throat and the words flooded out. “When are you due?” His voice was too loud in the previously silent cab.

  For a moment Katie seemed startled, as if she’d been lost in thought when he’d spoken, but then a sweet smile stretched over her lovely plump lips, causing Ryan’s throat to tighten. “Well,” she said, resting a palm on her belly, “that’s up to this little guy.” She tossed her smile over at Ryan. “But if all goes as hoped, he’ll arrive in about twenty-four weeks.”

  Ryan nodded, kicking himself for opening up a conversation about the very last thing in the world he wanted to discuss. Despite the years that had passed since he’d seen his ex-wife, each time he remembered the baby he and Sarah had loved and lost together, a newly sharpened knife sliced through his heart. Losing their child before its birth had been hard enough, but Sarah’s gradual withdrawal from Ryan, and her eventual decision to file for divorce, had made his life nearly unbearable for a time.

  He’d rebuilt the best he could manage, but it was time to fully let go and move on. He’d long since stopped missing his marriage to Sarah, but was it even possible for him to risk loving someone again, much less consider starting a family, or was he forever doomed to fresh grief on each occasion he happened to run across a random pregnant woman? Worse, Katie was anything but a random woman, and seeing her—his first, and perhaps only, true love...the one that got away...carrying a new life—was excruciating.

  How could he have offered to chauffer her and a bunch of kids around for an entire weekend of camping? It would be like forcing a recovering alcoholic to spend a couple of days locked inside a bar.

  Ryan scrubbed a hand over his face. What had he been thinking?

  He recalled the emotions he’d sifted through at eighteen on his graduation night, when he’d been all set to head off to college on a coveted football scholarship and Sarah had announced her pregnancy, to the whole town’s shock once the news quickly spread. The townspeople were even more dismayed when Ryan and Sarah marched down to the courthouse and married on their way out of town the very next day. He’d had his reasons. Sarah made a happy bride for a while, and he still believed he’d done the right thing—at least as he’d understood it at the time.

  Couples on the verge of becoming first-time parents were supposed to feel a lot of things—joy, excitement, anticipation—but disappointment and fear shouldn’t have been among them. He’d been terrified, certain he didn’t have what it took to be a good father at that age, still just a hardheaded kid himself. Sarah, on the other hand, had been far less surprised about the pregnancy than he, something he’d only had a chance to explore after that night had passed and he’d made enough mistakes to last a lifetime.

  Ryan pulled himself out of the past and back into the present, which wasn’t any less disconcerting, as he glanced over at Katie, a move that yet again threatened to knock the breath from his lungs.

  She’d only become more beautiful with time.

  He’d fallen in love with the self-conscious pretty girl he met as a kid when Katie and the girls’ very-much-in-love young parents moved next door to his seldom-happy home. But now she was a gorgeous, confident woman—comfortable in her own skin and feistier than ever.

  He made himself engage in conversation, not wanting to seem rude. After all, he was the one who’d brought it up in the first place. “You must be excited,” he forced out over the lump in his throat.

  As his question settled in the air, Katie’s smile changed into something different and a look of apprehension crossed her features before she could hide it from him. When she spoke, though, her voice was clear and firm. “I am. Very,” she said, then stopped suddenly, as if reconsidering her next comment.

  “But—” Ryan offered, knowing better. He should have just let the conversation drop if he didn’t want to hear more about Katie’s baby. A little tingle of admonition lit through him.

  That was just it. He did want to hear about it—about them.

  No matter what he’d done or how far he’d moved from home, sitting there with his childhood best friend was like going back in time. The years of separation were no cure for what he’d felt. He supposed a piece of him would always belong to Katie Bloom.

  She tossed a sideways glance at Ryan. “No but,” she said, pausing before she went on, as if determining how much it was wise to reveal. “It’s just that...well, circumstances are not ideal.” She waved a gentle hand over her abdomen. “I thought I’d have things all set and ready by the time I became a mom, and...I don’t. I mean, I did—” She stared out the passenger-side window as Ryan pulled his Jeep onto Main Street, unsure of what direction to head in “—but I don’t anymore.”

  Katie looked ahead at the road, knitting her eyebrows. “Um, Ryan, where are we going?”

  “To dinner,” he answered, surprised at her question. Old habits died hard; he’d just assumed it was okay to bring her along to a meal with him.

  “No,” she said, and he glanced over at her quickly before returning his full attention to the road. It was late evening and most of the shops were closing, their owners heading home for the night, so Main Street was fairly deserted, except for a few people bustling down the sidewalk, carrying shopping bags and food containers.

  Katie laughed at him. The sound filled Ryan with memories from their shared childhood—giggling together at the cinema, over-apologizing each time their hands inadvertently brushed inside the popcorn cup, him tickling her feet when he’d gotten tired of a long homework session, just to hear the infectious melody of her laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, and Katie rolled her eyes.

  “Where do you think you’re going to get dinner at this hour?” Her eyes sparkled as she teased him.

  Ryan glanced at the clock on his dash. “It’s only eight.”

  Kate’s expression told him he was being an idiot. “It’s Peach Leaf, Ryan. Surely you haven’t been gone so long you’ve forgotten the limited nightlife of a small town.”

  Dammit, she was right. His stomach let out a groan of protest.
/>
  “It’s okay,” Katie said, chuckling, “you can eat at my place.” She lifted her chin to indicate the road. “Just keep going and turn left up here. June and I started sharing a little house after—” she hesitated “—after I left my old apartment. You remember June Leavy from high school.”

  Ryan nodded.

  Katie pointed up ahead. “It’s this street here. Left at the stop sign.”

  Ryan switched on his signal and steered his truck as instructed down a narrow street lined with peach trees on the verge of shedding their leaves. The houses were familiar and soothing, and he could name just about every family who’d occupied each one before his departure—teachers, librarians, old friends from school. Some of the yards held evidence of new ownership; tricycles and shiny swing sets spoke of young families with children.

  He’d found he’d really rather go back to the hotel and grab an unsatisfying snack from the vending machine than endure the generous kindness he knew to expect from Katie and her old friend, but it would be rude to turn down the invitation. He might’ve moved across the country all those years ago and rarely looked back, but, as Katie pointed out, Peach Leaf was a small town, immune to the rapid changes of the rest of the world, and Ryan hadn’t forgotten his Southern manners.

  As he followed Katie’s directions and pulled into the gravel driveway of an aging but cozy-looking small blue cottage, he reminded himself that he’d agreed to spend an entire weekend with this woman—a woman he’d once loved so hard that leaving her had nearly ripped him apart—so what difference would an hour over dinner make?

  The pain of loss was nothing new to Ryan, and he would just have to steady himself until the time with her passed. Then he’d do the same as he worked on the hospital plans with his father, and sat through the dreaded town meeting to inform the residents of his hometown of the timeline for razing and replacing their beloved museum.

  He would endure, as he always had, and then it was back to his normal life in Seattle, the life he’d never adore but had come to tolerate for its predictable lack of complication.

 

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