by Susan Crosby
She opened her arms wide. “See? And what if I fail? I’d be responsible for people losing money. I can’t do that.”
“Why would you fail? You’re smart, you’re hardworking, you seem to have thought it out well.”
“I worked on my business plan for six months. Vaughn helped me put it together.”
She went on to describe the plan, but Win’s mind was whirling. Maybe he could be her solution. He could help her. Then maybe she wouldn’t be as angry as he’d been anticipating over what he’d kept from her.
“Listen, Jen, I—”
A truck came up the driveway and parked next to Win’s. Every damn time he worked up the nerve to tell her, someone or something thwarted the moment—even himself.
“Looks like someone else has a bird keeping him informed,” Win said.
“In this case, chickens,” Jenny said with a grin. “He’s bringing chicken feed, not checking up on me.”
Or perhaps both, Win thought.
“Evenin’, Win,” Mitch said as he sauntered up to the porch.
“Mitch. How’s it goin’? Annie doing all right?”
“She’s a little cranky these days. Plus she’s goin’ through that nesting business women tend to have when their time is near.”
Win knew Mitch was more than curious by the looks he gave his sister, who didn’t offer any explanation of why Win was there, so he didn’t either. “I wouldn’t know about that. I could write the book on pregnant cows, however. Come to think of it, they get restless, too, don’t they?”
Mitch chuckled. “I wouldn’t offer that comparison to Annie if I were you. Want to help me unload the chicken feed?”
“Sure.” He went down the stairs.
“You’re awfully quiet, Jen,” Mitch said.
“Nothing to say.”
“I’ll alert the press.”
“Ha-ha.”
Win and Mitch each carried a bag of feed into the barn. They opened and dumped one bag into the feed bin. Neither said a word. Then when they got back to the porch, Mitch sat on the glider, picked up the bag of cookies and pulled out a few, obviously not going anywhere until Win left.
“Nice night for a drive,” Mitch said.
“Yep.” Win saw the discomfort on Jenny’s face and decided to leave. He would refine his plan overnight and come back tomorrow.
He said good-night, then maneuvered his truck around Mitch’s and down the driveway. His mood had gone from dread to hope, all because she’d shared her dream with him.
Tomorrow would be a much better day.
Possibly.
* * *
Win got his chores done earlier than usual, then he showered and changed and headed to see Jenny, more nervous than he’d been the night before.
She wasn’t in the yard or the greenhouses, nor did she come out at the sound of his truck. He knocked on the door. No answer. Her car was parked in the yard, but someone could’ve picked her up.
Maybe Annie had gone into labor— No, Jenny would have driven herself.
He tried the doorknob. It turned easily. Unlocked? What the hell?
“Jenny?” he called.
He thought he heard a response but wasn’t sure. “Jen!”
“Bathroom. Please...”
Please help? Please stay away? He hurried down the short hallway to an open door and spotted her on the floor, draped over the toilet.
He dropped to his knees beside her. “What’s wrong?”
“Sick. So sick. The flu. I’ve felt it coming for days.”
“Can you stand?”
She plucked at her T-shirt. Her hair was plastered to her head from sweat. “I need a shower.”
Win put the toilet seat down and helped her sit. He turned on the shower, letting the water warm up, then he started to pull her T-shirt over her head.
She batted at his hands. “I can do it.”
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Just recently, in fact.” He dragged her shirt up and off, balled it up and tossed it in the sink. “Do you think you’re done being sick?”
“I don’t see how there’s anything left in my stomach.”
“Okay.” He adjusted the water temperature, then helped her stand. “Hold on to me.”
She put both her hands on top of his head. He slid her pajama bottoms down, steadying her as she stepped out of them then climbed into the tub/shower.
“Is the temperature okay?” he asked.
“It’s good.”
He was afraid she would pass out, so he kept the curtain open a couple of feet, keeping her in sight.
“I’ll be all right, Win. I feel better.”
“Not goin’ anywhere, Jen.”
When she closed her eyes to shampoo her hair, he took his fill of her with a freedom he hadn’t had before. She had the most perfect body. When he’d told her she’d filled out, he’d meant it. Her breasts were larger than—
He stared at her. Not just larger than that summer long ago, but larger than six weeks ago. Fuller. She’d been on top of him, facing him. He’d had the best view possible.
Six weeks. Could she be—
“Are you pregnant?” he asked.
She came to attention so fast she wobbled. He caught her, his shirtsleeve getting soaked in the process.
“No. Of course not. What makes you think so?”
He cupped a breast, and she winced. “That hurts.”
“Since when?”
She just looked confused.
“When was your last period?”
“I—I don’t know. I’ll have to look on my calendar.” Shock crept into her expression.
“Aren’t you on the pill?”
“No, I— No.”
“Why not? I assumed you were. Surely a college student on your own...”
“Well, I’m not,” she snapped.
“Then you should’ve stopped me in the truck that day. What were you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I got caught up in the moment. Birth control was the last thing on my mind.”
“It should’ve been first. How could this happen a second time?” He turned off the water and wrapped her in a towel.
“I need to get dressed. Alone.” Jenny walked past him and into her bedroom, shutting the door. She grabbed the dresser and held tight.
Pregnant? Could she be? She looked at her calendar. Eight weeks since her last period.
He was right. It was her fault. She should’ve told him she didn’t use birth control. There’d been no need. Would he believe that?
She got dressed by rote, towel dried her hair and fluffed it with her fingers, mindless tasks. Then she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth before heading to the living room to face the consequences of her actions.
He was calm. She didn’t know why that bothered her, but it did. She’d rather he be upset or angry or something. But his expression was all smoothed out, and he looked like he’d made a decision for the both of them.
“I fixed you some tea and toast,” he said. “Sit on the couch, please.”
She did, then he lifted her legs so that she was stretched out. He tucked an afghan over her lap, handed her the mug of tea then moved the coffee table closer so that she could reach the toast.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “We don’t have to get married, you know.”
“You’re right about that.”
His words crushed her. She loved him. It was going to be hard enough telling the world she was pregnant with Win Morgan’s child, but to be unwed, too?
He crossed his arms. “What I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks is that I never filed the divorce papers. We don’t have to get married, because we already are. It’s a done deal.”
/> Chapter Six
“What?” Jenny sloshed tea onto the coffee table as she put the mug down. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why didn’t you file the papers? And why didn’t you tell me?” She put her feet on the floor and tried to stand, but dropped back down. “All these years I thought I was free to date, even fall in love. What if I’d gotten married without knowing I wasn’t divorced?”
“I would’ve heard about it and stopped the wedding,” he said calmly.
His composure annoyed her. “I can’t talk to you right now.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He sat next to her
“Go away, Win. I can’t think with you watching me.”
“I found you almost passed out. I’m not leaving you alone. Now you sit there and have your tea and toast, and I’ll clean up the bathroom. That’s the only think time I can give you.” He turned on his heel and left the room.
But her mind went blank, numbed by the turn of events.
“Maybe I should have a pregnancy test before we jump to conclusions,” she called out to him.
He came into the doorway. “A test will confirm it, but we both know it’s unnecessary. We’ve been down this road before.”
“And I miscarried.”
Silence dropped between them. She wished he would say something that let her know he’d mourned that loss.
But once again a vehicle came up the driveway, interrupting them at another critical moment. Win went to the front window. “It’s Annie.”
“Who brought her?”
“Someone in a blue VW bug.”
“Karyn. Is she coming in, too?”
“Just dropping Annie off, looks like.” He pushed open the screen door. “Good morning.”
“Hey. You’re here early to pick up your order.” She spotted Jenny sitting on the sofa with her still-uneaten toast in front of her. “Are you all right?”
“Not really.” Jenny looked at Win. “I’m going to tell her, okay?”
He nodded, then sat beside her, as a show of support, she figured. Annie found a chair, too.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I’m pregnant.”
Annie’s brows went up. She looked at Win. “Yours?”
He nodded. “We’ve been married for four years.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“But I thought we were divorced,” Jenny said.
Annie put up her hands. “Can we start at the beginning, please?”
Jenny told most of the story, with Win adding commentary of his own.
“Well,” Annie said when they were done. “First things first. Win, if you’ll drive me somewhere other than Red Valley City, I’ll buy a pregnancy test. I know very few people outside of our immediate community, and if it looks strange for a pregnant woman to buy a test kit, so be it.”
“I’m not leaving Jen.”
“I’m fine. Clearheaded and steady. It’s morning sickness, not the flu.”
He gave her a direct look. “If you promise to just eat your toast and stay here on the sofa.”
She saluted him. What she wanted was a hug, a big, long hug that she could melt into and know everything was going to be okay. The thought of telling her parents—
“So help me, Jen, if you’re working in the yard when we get back, I’ll...”
“You’ll what? Don’t hover, Win. Please. Annie worked her farm until yesterday. There’s no reason I can’t do the same thing.”
“Not today. Not unless I’m here. Why don’t you just sit at the computer and do research on lavender varieties or something.”
She could see that he wouldn’t leave unless she promised. And she wanted him to leave so that she could have some time to herself to digest it all. “Okay.”
“And you’ll eat your toast, too.”
She saluted again. Annie laughed and headed to the door.
“Wait a sec, Annie,” Jenny said. “Why did you come this morning?”
“Mitch was hovering.”
Win’s mouth twitched. Jenny laughed.
“Ironic, hmm?” Annie said. “He wasn’t getting any work done, because he kept either coming home or calling. So you’re supposed to be watching out for me, Jenny.” She laughed all the way out the door.
Jenny slid down the couch so that she could look out the window. As soon as Win’s truck got out of sight, she sat back, letting her shoulders, her whole body, relax. She reached for the cold toast, which he hadn’t buttered, so it didn’t taste too bad.
She had to admit she’d liked how he’d just come in and taken charge this morning, although she should be furious that he hadn’t followed through on the divorce. Why hadn’t he? Did it mean he loved her and hadn’t wanted to give her up? If so, why wouldn’t he say so? Why had he left her alone all this time? He could’ve come to see her.
And men say women are complicated. He was layer upon layer upon layer of complication.
And one hot, sexy man. She’d tried so hard to have a relationship at college. She’d been asked out frequently, and sometimes she went but without any follow-through. So she got a reputation as an ice queen and guys stopped asking, which made life much easier for her. She studied and worked, graduating with honors.
Jenny finished the toast, but didn’t want the tea. She curled up on the sofa and closed her eyes.
At least now she knew why she’d been so tired. She would take a nap. Win would be proud of her....
* * *
Win came through the front door surprised to see Jenny was still on the couch...sleeping? He crouched next to her. Her breathing was steady. He wanted to brush her hair away from her face but didn’t want to wake her. Then she opened her eyes and focused on him, unsmiling.
“I ate my toast.”
“I suspect it’s the last time you’ll take any orders from me.”
She smiled, slow and sexy, at least in his eyes. He held up the pregnancy test kit.
“Is Annie here?” she asked.
“I dropped her off at the homestead. Dori can do the watching over.”
Jenny reached for the box. “Did you read the instructions?”
“It suggests using the first morning urine, but we bought two kits, so you can try now. Pretty much you just pee on the stick and wait two minutes.”
She went into the bathroom. He paced outside the door, then she called him in. They both turned their backs on the stick and didn’t even try to make small talk as they waited. Win held his cell phone, ticking off the time.
“Time’s up,” he said finally, his stomach a hot ball of nerves.
“You look,” she said, breathing hard.
His hands shook a little when he lifted the test. “Pregnant,” he said.
She spun around and grabbed his hand, looking for herself. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “Now what?”
“Now we tell our parents.”
“Tell them what? That I’m pregnant, of course. But also that we’re already married? And the circumstances that led to that?”
He took her by the arm and guided her to the living room. “I think we should be honest.”
“Why?”
“You’d rather they think we were just sleeping together? We’re married.”
“Barely.”
“Barely counts.”
“But telling them that means explaining everything.”
“We’ll yank off the bandage, Jen. The sting won’t last long.”
“They’re going to blame you. You were twenty-two. I was eighteen.”
“And you started it. But I won’t tell them that.”
She opened her mouth as if to protest, then stopped. “I did kinda.”
�
��Kinda?”
“You didn’t try to stop it.”
“Hell, no. Why would I?” It wasn’t as if it had been a dream come true. He hadn’t coveted her for years or anything, but he’d known from that moment in the diner when she’d come up to him that he wanted her something fierce. “So, what do you say? We’ll go talk to your parents tonight?”
“Yeah. What about your dad?”
“I think that’s best left to me to do.”
“Will he be angry?”
No doubt about it, he thought. Not only was she pregnant, but she was a Ryder. “I don’t know how he’ll react.”
“Would he fire you?”
“Not in the peak of summer. Look, Jen, whatever happens, we’ll get through it. There’s an innocent in all this.” He laid a hand on her belly, still flat and hard. “People have gotten together and stayed together for less important reasons.”
“When do you want to do it?”
“Tonight. Your parents first, then I’ll go tell my dad, get my stuff and move in here with you.” He waited for her reaction, but nothing came—until about ten seconds went by, as if she’d awakened from a trance.
“Wait. What? Move in here? Tonight? I’ve had only one night of independence.”
That stung. She didn’t expect to—want to—live with him? She planned to be pregnant and married and independent? No way. “You think I’m not going to live with my wife? As it is, everyone is going to be doing the math and coming to the conclusion that we slept together the first day you got back. You want even more talk because I’m not living with you?”
Her mouth tightened. “I guess not.”
“You guess not.” He shoved himself off the couch and walked away. He didn’t know why he thought it would be easy, that because the decisions were taken out of their hands, she would accept their situation and go with it. Obviously that wasn’t the case.
“This was preventable, Jen. If you’d told me you didn’t use birth control, we wouldn’t be in this spot.”
“You should have asked,” she said.
“I agree. But I didn’t, nor did you, and so the consequence is that you give up your independence. And so do I, by the way.”
