Barrie had put herself through veterinary school, had set up her own practice and was serious competition to the only other vet in town. But her pregnancy seemed to be more important to these women than her professional accomplishments.
“So you’re canceling,” Barrie clarified.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Thanks for the call,” Barrie said curtly.
“No hard feelings, Dr. Jones,” Leanne said. “We wish it could have worked out.”
“Of course. Take care.” Barrie hung up, and her cheeks burned. When she turned back toward the table, she found Mallory’s eyes pinned to her.
Mallory winced. “Is that what it sounded like?”
“Probably.” Barrie pulled a hand through her hair. “Leanne says I’m a bad influence on the girls, and they’re canceling my talk.”
“That’s downright insulting.” Mallory shook her head. “What is this, 1950?”
Mallory had been pregnant when she’d arrived in Hope. Her boyfriend had left her for her best friend, and when he discovered Mal was pregnant, he offered to pay for the abortion. That baby was now sitting across from them, slurping hot chocolate. Mallory was now married, but some of the bigger prudes in this town hadn’t forgotten.
“How bad are the rumors about me?” Barrie asked.
“You don’t want to hear about that,” Mallory replied. “It’s just stupid talk.”
“I do,” Barrie pressed. “I mean, if I’m getting treated like the scarlet woman around here, I should probably know why. What are they saying?”
“People’s imaginations are far worse than reality,” Mallory said. “Most of the time. They make up the worst stories possible.”
“Like what?” Barrie asked.
“Like you’re pregnant with a married man’s child,” Mal replied with a sigh. “And they’ve been finger-pointing at a few candidates around town...”
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Barrie shook her head. They were right, ironically enough, but the married man wasn’t from Hope, and she’d had no idea he was married to begin with. But Leanne’s husband had cheated on her twice in the last five years, so maybe Leanne wasn’t quite so supportive of Barrie as she claimed, if there were stories circulating that Barrie was a homewrecker. No hard feelings, indeed.
“Why don’t you just tell the truth about the father of the baby?” Mallory asked quietly. “I’m sure it can’t be as bad as people imagine. It’ll stop the tongue wagging, at least.”
“No.” Barrie turned her latte slowly in front of her. If she kept quiet, at least she’d have deniability. And some semblance of privacy. Her mistake at the veterinary convention was humiliating enough without offering it up for public chatter.
“I’m here if you want to vent,” Mallory said. “And you can trust my discretion.”
“Thanks, but I’m not ready to do that.” Barrie didn’t feel the need to vent; she needed to solve her own problems and set up her life so that she could raise her child on her own. Besides, as soon as she told one person, the story would get out. It might be overheard, or a text might be seen. Someone might see Mallory’s face when they suggested some theory... The possibilities were endless. A secret was no longer a secret once she told the first person.
“Okay.” Mallory didn’t look offended, to Barrie’s relief. “But I’m here for you, Barrie. You know that.”
Barrie reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand. “Absolutely.”
“Miss Barrie?” Beau said quietly.
“Yes, Beau?” Barrie turned her attention to the boy.
“Are you going to eat that?” He pointed at her Danish.
“Beau!” Mallory chided. “That’s rude. Don’t ask people for food. Good grief!”
“It’s okay,” Barrie said with a low laugh. “I’m going to eat most of it, but I’ll give you a piece, okay?”
Beau seemed pleased with this option, and she tore him off a chunk of pastry. Right now, Barrie might not have a husband, the conception of her child might be her biggest embarrassment so far and she had no idea how she was going to balance everything once this baby arrived, but she’d heard somewhere that all a person could do was take the next right step. She’d try that, because she couldn’t see the bigger solutions for the life of her.
* * *
CURTIS LOADED BAGS of dog food, salt licks for the cattle and several bags of ear tags into the back of his truck in the parking lot of Hope Ranch and Supply. His mind had been on Barrie all morning, no matter how hard he tried to distract himself with work. It wasn’t just memories from their marriage that had left him uncomfortably preoccupied. It was her as a mature woman, and not just her pregnancy like she’d suggested. She was the kind of woman who’d grown more beautiful as the years went by—and more interesting. He liked having an excuse to be around her, and he knew he was playing with emotional fire here. It had taken him years to get over her, and falling for her again would be a terrible idea.
His cell phone rang just as he slammed the tailgate shut, and he rooted out his phone with a sigh. He glanced down at the number.
“Betty?” he said, picking up.
“Curtis, I’m at the barn, and there’s another sick cow,” his aunt said. “I don’t have Barrie’s number in my phone, only Dr. Berton’s, but Barrie has been dealing with this outbreak, so I think we’d better stick with her for the time being. Can you give her a call and get her to come by?”
Curtis had Barrie’s business card in his wallet, so contacting his ex-wife wouldn’t be an issue. “Aunty, what are you doing in the barn?”
“If you hadn’t noticed, this is still my ranch!” she quipped. “Now quit trying to babysit me and give the vet a call, would you?”
“Sure thing,” he said. “Don’t break anything new.”
“Har har,” his aunt replied, and hung up without a farewell.
Curtis smiled wryly, then pulled out the business card. Betty might have asked him to help out, but holding her back from running her ranch wasn’t even a possibility. He paused before he dialed Barrie’s number.
He was actually looking forward to calling her, and he recognized the problem there... He was starting to get attached again, and he needed to stop this. He was leaving town, and her life didn’t include him. If only his feelings could catch up with his brain.
“Dr. Jones,” she intoned as she picked up.
“Hi, Barrie, it’s Curtis.” He cleared his throat.
“Oh...hi. Everything okay?”
“Betty just let me know that there’s another sick cow. They have it in the barn, but she needs you to come down. Are you free?”
“My truck is still in the shop,” she replied. “I’m sorry about that. You might want to—”
Call Palmer Berton... Yeah, he could, but he didn’t want to.
“Where are you?” he interrupted.
“Downtown. The Vanilla Bean,” she replied.
“Great. I’m at the Ranch and Supply. I could pick you up, if you want. You’re the one who’s been dealing with this outbreak, so you’re our go-to for this.”
“And I’m happy to do it,” she said.
“Would you be ready in ten minutes?”
“Not a problem,” she replied.
“See you soon.”
Curtis hung up and hopped into the cab of his truck. He could still make out the soft scent of her perfume in the vehicle from yesterday. It was the same scent she used to wear when they were married, and a long-forgotten memory surfaced of her standing in front of their dresser in a pink summer dress, spritzing some perfume onto her wrists... But somehow in that memory, he aged her into the woman she was now.
He started the truck and pulled out of the parking space. The Ranch and Supply was located on the west end of town along the highway, but Hope being as
small as it was, he was only five minutes away from downtown and the coffee shop. When he turned onto Main, he could already see Barrie standing on the street, waiting for him. The wind blew her straight hair, and she hunched her shoulders. He wasn’t going to get used to seeing her pregnant. She was right. Her condition certainly did soften him toward her, but it wasn’t just a testosterone reaction to a pregnant woman. She was vulnerable, and whatever it was that set Barrie Jones off balance sparked a protective instinct inside him. It just so happened to be a pregnancy.
Curtis pulled up to the curb, and Barrie crossed the street. He leaned across the cab to open the door for her, and she climbed inside.
“We’ll need to stop by my clinic for my bag,” she said as she fastened her seat belt.
“Hi,” he said, and her cheeks colored.
“Sorry, hi.”
Curtis signaled, pulled a U-turn and headed back down Montana Avenue toward her clinic. The last time he’d been there, she’d told him to back out of her life, and it was like she’d put up an emotional fence around that place. It had worked—he didn’t feel welcome anymore.
Curtis glanced over at her, and Barrie’s expression was grim.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Huh?” She forced a smile. “I’m fine. So, tell me about the cow.”
Was it him making her so uncomfortable? Or was there something else?
“The same as the others, I’m assuming,” he said. “Betty just called and asked me to get you, so I haven’t seen it myself... But you’re not fine.”
She licked her lips, then sighed. “I’ll figure it out. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Is it me?” he asked. “Have I crossed a line, or ticked you off?”
“Not everything is about you, Curtis.” She gave him a smile.
“Good. I’m glad it’s not me,” he said. “So, what is it?”
They were approaching her clinic, and he slowed and put on his turn signal. Another pickup passed in the other direction, and Curtis waited until the road was clear before making the turn.
“It’s just gossip around town,” she said as he pulled into the parking lot in front of her clinic and chose the spot near her door.
“So, what’s fueling the gossip this time?” He put the truck into Park and turned toward her.
“They’re trying to guess at the father of my baby.”
Curtis eyed her, watching for her reaction. She looked away. “That’s kind of insulting, but not surprising, right?” he said. “You’ve got to ignore them.”
“And I was,” she replied, pushing the door open and letting in a rush of cold air. “But now my talk with the 4-H girls has been canceled because of it.”
Barrie eased herself down and slammed the door behind her. He watched her head to the clinic and unlock the door. She disappeared inside while her words spun through his mind. He remembered Hope’s tenacious gossip, but could it really have gone so far? That pissed him off. Barrie deserved better from this town.
A couple of minutes later, Barrie emerged with her black bag in hand. Curtis leaned over and pushed the door open from the inside, then grabbed the bag to give her room to get in. Once she was settled, he headed for the highway.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Leanne Perkins called a few minutes ago and let me know that my pregnancy was a distraction, and they worried for the impressionable girls.”
“Girls who’ve all seen cows inseminated and calves born,” he retorted.
“I’m a scandal.”
He caught the quiver in her voice. This was no joke to her—this had hurt her, and he felt a rise in that old protectiveness.
“You’re a professional and a good person,” he shot back. “Leanne Perkins is an idiot. Wait...is this because of Jen Hartfield?”
“Leanne insists that it wasn’t only her,” Barrie said. “The mothers voted.”
Curtis sighed. There had been a time when Hope had turned on him—but he’d had the luxury of leaving. Still, he knew what it felt like to have an entire town make up its mind about him.
“How much does this presentation matter to you?” he asked.
“I cared about it,” she said. “I want to encourage girls to work in agriculture. We need women in this field, and if I can encourage just one girl to become a vet—”
“They’ll be encouraged by you simply being a vet,” he said. “You show them that it’s possible. Like the Hartfield girl.”
Barrie was silent for a moment, and then she said, “I’m not used to being the cautionary tale, Curtis.”
He slowed at the intersection and signaled a turn onto the highway. It was a straight drive out to the Porter ranch from here, and he settled back into his seat. The telephone lines looped past the truck window, and he glanced at the fences sagging in snow drifts. The clouds hung low, threatening more snow.
“You might consider stopping the gossip by just telling people who the father is,” he said after a moment.
“You aren’t the only one to suggest that, but it isn’t their business,” she replied. “This is my body, my baby, my mistake!”
“No child is a mistake,” he said. “Not every family starts the same way. My mom was a teenager when she had me, and we still count as a family.”
“I’m not calling my baby a mistake,” she said, tears misting her eyes. “But I messed up. I’m not the kind of woman who goes around having one-night stands. I know that consequences matter and that they can dog you for a lifetime. I was the responsible girl who studied hard. Even after you, I made sure that my choices were solid so I could have a bright future. I’m not the irresponsible sort!”
“I know.” Did he ever know. She’d been cautious and proper from the start, and that had been part of her allure. He liked the idea of teaching her a little bit of fun.
“Do you? Because apparently, the entire town now questions that.” She shook her head. “I’m a professional. I work hard. I got myself through school, and I built something for myself. That should count.”
“So it was a one-night stand?” he asked.
She’d said more than she’d planned, he could tell. She shot him a cautious look. “It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re right,” he said. “It doesn’t. What you do romantically isn’t anyone else’s business.”
“Thank you.”
And yet he still wanted to get his hands on whatever moron had done this to her... But who was he to get on a high horse? He’d walked out on her, too. Had she been shaken—like this? But she’d kicked him out. He never would have left her otherwise. He just hadn’t fit into her responsibly planned life anymore.
“If you ask me, you were always too careful,” he said.
“Since when?” she asked, irritation in her voice.
“Since always,” he said. “The biggest risk you took was marrying me, and then you shut down. You wouldn’t risk anything, and maybe it’s time you did.”
“I’m thirty-seven,” she said. “I have what...twenty-five years left to work? I have to pay off my house. I have to get ready for retirement—”
“You’ve got twenty-eight years left to work,” he retorted, “and you’re having a baby. You always liked to plan everything, and this wasn’t planned. Well, the best things are a surprise. I say, enjoy it. Quit beating yourself up, and ignore the people who are going to judge you, because I have news for you, Barrie—if they’re judging you now, they were doing it before, just a little more quietly.”
“You think?” she asked.
“I’m pretty certain,” he replied.
The highway was plowed clean, but some spots on the asphalt shone wet. Seeing as the temperature was well below freezing, it was ice. He let up on the gas and slowed down a little. He had a pregnant woman with him in the truck, after
all.
“Curtis, how do you do it?” she asked. “I mean, how do you just see what happens, and not worry?”
“I have faith in my own abilities,” he said. “I’m relatively certain that I can handle whatever comes.”
She sighed. “I don’t bounce back as well as you do.”
“You think I did?”
“You’re the one who left,” she replied. “I’m assuming you did.”
He sighed. “I left because I was constantly disappointing you. You married me because you loved me, but you expected things I couldn’t deliver.”
“I didn’t.”
“Sure you did. Like money,” he replied. “You knew I was a bull rider when we got married. That was no surprise, but once we said our vows, the things you used to accept about me were no longer okay with you. You wanted a certain income, a certain life, and you had an image of what you wanted me to become, but you never stopped to ask if I wanted to be that guy.”
“I wanted you to be my husband!” Barrie shook her head.
“Yeah, but you seemed to think that me following my dreams meant I wasn’t committed.”
“It wasn’t that,” she said.
“No? Then what was it?”
Barrie sighed. “I had dreams, too. You didn’t seem willing to compromise. When I told you to leave, I was just so tired. I was tired of fighting and being hurt and wondering what you were thinking or feeling. I was just so tired of it all.”
“And I can understand that,” he said. “Now, at least. But do you know what it’s like to look into your wife’s eyes and see disappointment, maybe even a little regret?”
Barrie was silent.
“It hurts. A lot. When I married you, I wanted to give you everything. But I was only good at one thing, and that was bull riding. I’d made promises to you about how I’d provide, and then you didn’t want me to use my one skill to do that.”
“There were stable jobs—” she started.
“There were, but I was...me.” He cast her a sad smile. “I wasn’t cut out for that stuff, Barrie. I’m a bit of a lone wolf in a lot of ways. If you’d married some other guy, he’d have been able to give you all the stuff I couldn’t afford yet, and I knew that. I wanted to give you all of that, but... I had to do it my own way.”
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