by Heidi Hormel
Olympia woke with Cal leaning against her on the couch; some rodeo rerun was on the TV. She needed to pee badly...as usual. Cal had his thumb in his mouth. Her throat tightened at the innocence of him, the loveliness of the promise of his future in the miniature face. She tried to pick him up, but though small for his age, she couldn’t do it. Instead, she got him to his feet, letting him lean heavily on her, his warm weight anchoring her to the world in the middle of the night. It made the growing Peanut inside her seem less like an alien and more like a miracle.
She shook her head as she got him under the covers. She went to her own room, put on Spence’s shirt and crawled into bed, reminding herself that the miracle would be someone else’s—Spence’s and the woman he married for real. He was the kind of man meant to have a wife and family.
She rolled onto her side, pulling up her knees to soothe the ache in her back. How was she going to make it through months more of the sickness—which still struck at odd times—and the backaches? She’d do it, just like she’d made sure her sisters got fed even when she had to use a stool to cook on the stove. You did what it took to survive.
* * *
SPENCE HAD BEEN sitting in his Texas hotel for hours, plowing through material so he could get home sooner rather than later. He’d already stayed three more days than he’d anticipated. His phone started vibrating on the table serving as his desk. Olympia. He’d already spoken with Calvin. Now Olympia was calling? He’d let voice mail get it. The phone stopped vibrating. He pushed around the food on his plate. After a moment, the phone vibrated again.
“Yes,” he barked.
“I, um, I wanted to make sure that Cal called you.”
“Hours ago.”
“Good.”
“Did you want something else? I’ve still got work to get done.”
“No. Well...yes.”
Silence. Then she said, “I’m sorry, but it’s not working out.”
His lungs stopped moving. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve tried. I mean really tried, but...I don’t know what to say... How to...”
Spence heard tears as her voice trailed off. What the...? Was she going to break the agreement? Walk out on him? On Calvin? A wall of fear and desolation crashed down on him. “We can talk when I get home. This isn’t something that we can settle on the phone. I won’t be here much longer.”
“Da...dang hormones,” Olympia sniffled. “I just can’t...” Her words melted into a wet-sounding stream of nonsense.
“Don’t do anything until I get there.” A new fear lodged in his throat. What if she followed through on her threat to run away? His brain went into overdrive. Could he get a flight from Texas and talk some sense into her before his bosses and client realized that he was gone?
“What? Why are you going to come home?” she asked her voice sharper.
“To stop you.”
“Stop me? From what? I’m not going to kill Jessie.” That sounded like his Olympia, then her voice quavered. “She made her sister—Lavonda—come and help me because she couldn’t. Now Lavonda’s taking over. Muffin listens to her, even if she doesn’t have a muffin...” Olympia’s voice broke again. “I know it’s stupid, but she left ranching and I’m the one who is making a career of it and she’s better at this than me and it’s not fair that—”
“You’re jealous of Lavonda?” he asked, relief making him giddy as blood rushed to his head from where it had hardened into a cold lump in his throat.
“Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m not laughing.” At that moment, his brain short-circuited and a loud bark of laughter burst from him.
“You are, too.”
“Am not.”
“Are, too.” She chortled, clear and easy. His shoulders loosened. “What are we? Six years old? Sorry. I’m being silly and hormonal.”
He got up and walked to the bed. She went on talking about things at the ranch. The normal small talk any couple had, and he found himself enjoying it. Except they weren’t a couple.
“It’s getting late. Guess I’d better go,” she finally said.
“Dawn does come early. Before you hang up, how are you feeling? No nausea? Have you gone shopping?”
“I’m fine. The pills are working. I told you I don’t need anything.”
“You were busting out of everything. You’re more than four months pregnant. You shouldn’t ask your clothing to make such sacrifices. I bet you’re wearing that Mickey Mouse T-shirt.”
“Maybe.”
“I knew it. Honestly, Olympia, we can afford new clothes. You can’t ignore the baby.”
“No way to do that.”
“I know this is all new to you—”
“It’s not. I remember Mama pregnant. I have no idea how I kept my sisters from getting pregnant, but they didn’t, even when it seemed as though every one of their friends was getting knocked up.”
He heard the anger, the fear and something else he couldn’t name. “Have you felt the baby move yet?” he asked cautiously.
“Not yet,” she said quietly.
“Then, you should get all the sleep you can now. That’ll help your dark circles.”
“Those are gone.”
“Then, you’re getting that glow.”
“That’s sunburn.”
He laughed. They were once again back to the easy banter. He’d missed having another adult to talk to the past few years as he’d worried about Calvin and negotiated with Missy and her family. “Really. I bet you look good. Let me buy you new things to show off that belly of yours.”
“You mean my breasts, don’t you? They’re enormous.”
The air seemed to disappear from the room as he saw in his mind the way her chest had pressed against the fabric of even her largest shirts—and he’d always thought he was a leg man. “They’re beautiful,” he breathed.
He barely heard her next words. “They ache all the time.”
He hesitated for a moment before saying, “When I get home, I’ll massage them until you... That’ll make them feel better.” He stopped himself from saying more because he wanted to do this and more to make her feel good. There might have been a part of him that needed to make her feel better and maybe a little sexy, too—darn it. “I’ve got to go. Just got a text,” he lied, turning off the phone before he said something really stupid to his pretend wife.
* * *
OLYMPIA CURLED UP in her bed, wearing one of Spence’s shirts, staring at the silent phone. She’d taken to sleeping in it because she didn’t have any nightgowns. Yep. That was exactly why she’d worn it.
She even—darn her stupid hormones—wanted to snuggle into bed and relive those flashes of sexy heat she’d heard in his voice. But she couldn’t. She and Spence weren’t a couple, not really. She had to remember that. While her desire for him fought with her nausea, it was just another physical need, like all those other ones. Her body had taken on a life of its own—literally—so all kinds of things were happening to her that she didn’t want or agree with. Like her breasts. She’d have to start wearing a sports bra to keep everything in place and dig into the back of her closet for bigger, baggier pants. Her mama always bragged that she’d never needed maternity clothes, not that Olympia wanted to be like her mama. But here she was, pregnant after one night. Maybe this was different because she and Spence were actually married, even if it was just on paper.
Their marriage might end sooner than planned since Cal was already living with them, though. She’d ended up keeping her distance by viewing the little boy like one of the rescue horses who were just passing through. That meant not getting too attached and making just as sure the horse—or the little boy—didn’t think it was anything more.
More important, unlike her mama, when her “man” left, he’d be taking the baby with him.
It was right there in the contract. In black, white and a ton of subsections. Cal would forget her, like the horses did and just the way she had all her “daddies.” The baby would never know her—which was for the best. No one wanted someone like her as their mom.
A glass of milk. That was what she needed right now. Pregnant women needed milk, she’d read that somewhere. But when she got to the kitchen, milk no longer appealed to her. She stared into the fridge, gave up and wandered into the living room. Turning on the TV would wake Cal and Rickie—if her sister was even home. Maybe she should say something to her about the late nights. No. Rickie had her head on straight.
Why couldn’t she settle? When the alarm went off tomorrow morning, she’d be exhausted, so why wasn’t she going to bed? The little voice that she regularly ignored said, Because you don’t want to be in that bed all alone.
Chapter Nine
Spence’s stomach growled, but he ignored it. He felt that indefinable urge to get home to the ranch. He’d spoken to his son two days ago and exchanged a number of texts. Olympia had been increasingly silent as his time in Texas had stretched into nearly a month. He didn’t expect her to chitchat, but her clipped tone worried him. He feared that he’d come home and only Rickie and Calvin would be there. In his more rational moments, he knew his worries had more to do with the way his ex had been than the way Olympia was acting.
More than one evening, he’d come home to baby Calvin sleeping in his crib and no Missy. She’d been out with friends or in a nearby apartment having “just one drink,” which always turned into an entire evening of partying. It was dangerous behavior, no matter what, but with a baby like Calvin, who’d had his own monitor because of his heart problems, it could have been deadly.
He hit Dial on his phone and listened to the rings. Why weren’t they picking up? He pushed a little harder on the accelerator, passing a nondescript gray car. Less than a minute later, he caught the flashing lights in the rearview mirror. Damn it. He pulled to the side of the road, thinking that he’d give Olympia a piece of his mind when he saw her for not picking up the phone. If she’d done that, he wouldn’t have been speeding.
One hour and a five-hundred-dollar ticket later, Spence opened up the throttle on Olympia’s truck as he pushed it over the last hill to the ranch—he hoped the spurt of speed would relieve his annoyance.
The ranch house and buildings looked deserted, no horses in the corral and the house shut up tight. Where was everyone? Why was the day so blasted hot and why was he wearing a suit? He pulled off his jacket and yanked open the top buttons on his shirt before he strode through the back door. The patio was blessedly cool and dark but too quiet. He walked toward the barn. What was Olympia thinking, having his son out in this heat? Calvin’s operation had repaired his damaged heart, but he needed to be careful. He was fragile. Spence’s purposeful stride sped up to a run. Where were they? What was wrong? The dread he’d felt driving him from Texas ratcheted up another three notches.
“Let me, let me.”
He heard his son’s voice come drifting from the barn. He didn’t wait for his eyes to adjust to the dimness.
“Watch out,” Olympia said as there was a clink of metal on metal and a horsey snort.
Spence ran now, his lungs burning.
“Make him stop.” Calvin’s shrill voice pierced Spence’s heart. More snorts and a low, firm “whoa.” He got to the stall, his chest so tight with fear he couldn’t take a full breath. He put out his hand to open the half door.
“Look, Dad,” Calvin said, his voice excited. “Pasquale likes me. He lets me brush him. He was all dirty. He rolled in poop. It was kind of gross, but Olympia said that a cowboy has to take care of his mount.”
“Your mount?” Spence panted and stared death rays at Olympia. He’d told her and she’d promised that, no matter what, Calvin would not get on a horse. How had his son kept it a secret from him during their calls?
“He’s done well, Spence,” Olympia said in a soothing voice he figured she used on recalcitrant horses.
“I don’t care. You promised—”
“Dad,” Calvin interrupted. “I wear a helmet and everything. It’s totally safe, and we never go anywhere but the corral, and Pasquale—”
“You’re not strong enough,” Spence said and knew he’d uttered the words sure to make his son go from pleasant to raging.
“I am, too. You always say that, and you’re wrong.” Calvin clamped his lips into a frown and put his hands on his hips.
“I know you’re strong, son, but horses are different. They’re unpredictable. Look at Aunt Jessie. She’s fallen off more than one horse and hurt herself.” Spence reached over the half door to pull Calvin toward him. The sleepy-looking horse perked up, snorted and grabbed Spence’s arm between its yellow teeth. He tried to pull away, but the horse hung on.
“Pasquale,” Olympia said, reaching out and grabbing the horse’s halter.
“Stop, Olympia,” Spence said as the horse clamped down tighter.
She stood stock-still for a second, indecision written large on her face, then Calvin moved to the horse’s mouth and pulled it open. “Bad, Pasquale,” he said. “Don’t bite my dad. That’s mean.”
The horse immediately let go and stepped back. Spence was sure that his horsey gaze said, Watch it, buddy. Next time I take a finger. Spence wasn’t even certain what had set the animal off. “Calvin, come out of there. Obviously that horse has an attitude problem.”
“They’ve really bonded,” Olympia said.
His son added, “Me and Pasquale are buddies. He’s real gentle and lets me pet him all the time, even without treats.”
Spence closed his eyes, not feeling any less stressed. His fragile son thought this huge animal was safe. Worse, he was falling in love with it. Wouldn’t that be great when Spence had to tear him away from Pasquale?
“Come on, Cal-boy, time to let Pasquale nap,” Olympia said. “You know he’s part sloth and has got to get his sixteen hours of sleep a day or he’s cranky.” Calvin giggled as he and Olympia came out of the stall.
Spence looked at both of them, his small-for-his-age son and his “wife” and mother of his new child. He wanted to knock sense into both of them for scaring him.
“Don’t worry so much, Dad. I’m real strong now. Look at my muscles.” Calvin showed off his scrawny biceps. “Remember, the doctor said I was all fixed.”
For now he was fixed, Spence thought, but what if something happened?
“We’re done out here,” Olympia said into the silence. “You want a snack, Cal?”
“His name is Calvin,” Spence said, and the two of them glared at him. “Well, it is.”
“It’s a stupid name,” Calvin muttered.
“It’s your great-great-grandfather’s.”
“Don’t care.”
Spence had never thought his son didn’t like the name. He’d been so proud to carry on the family tradition. His son’s namesake had been a lawman in Texas and New Mexico before settling in Arizona.
“Snack time,” Olympia said. “You’re cranky because your blood sugar is low.” She pushed his son in front of her. It wasn’t just her body that seemed softer, more womanly. Even her voice had taken on a gentler tone. Spence watched the two of them leave the barn, thinking that the sight made him simultaneously sentimental and suspicious of his own happiness. Forget the horse. How had Calvin bonded with Olympia? He’d wanted her to treat Calvin well, but he didn’t think a relationship was a good idea. What would happen when they inevitably split up? It would be bad.
When Spence got into the house, Calvin and Olympia were at the kitchen counter, fixing a snack and drink...and laughing. What was he going to do? He had to protect his son. The original plan had been that once he got full custody of Calvin and the baby was born, he’d move out and move on. Olympia had sworn s
he was taking care of the boy but holding him at arm’s length. He wasn’t so sure. He needed to make changes now, separate his son more from her, help him create distance.
“Limpy, Rickie and me are going to the Dairy Queen. You wanna come, Dad?”
“Limpy?” he asked his son sternly.
Olympia looked up from the plate of salsa she was shoveling into her mouth with animal crackers. “What’s the big deal?”
“‘Limpy’ is disrespectful.” God, he sounded like one of those stuffy judges he’d encountered in small-town courts.
Olympia shrugged. “Are you coming?”
“What about dinner?”
“That’s hours away. We won’t spoil our appetites. Will we, Cal-boy? Get it? ’Cause it sounds like cowboy.” She turned to his son with a grin. “We’ve been working hard all morning and afternoon. It’s time for a real treat. Rickie,” she yelled as she stood.
“Limpy’s pregnant. I looked that up after you told me. She’s got the cravings and everything.”
Spence felt himself blush. He’d put her pregnancy at the back of his mind, even the changes he’d noticed when he’d first seen her. He moved restlessly.
“Calvin can have a treat after dinner. There’s a freezer full of them.”
“Yuck,” his usually biddable son said, sticking out his tongue. “Those are healthy, and we don’t want healthy.”
“Did you teach him that?” he glared at Olympia, who didn’t look guilty.
“They are healthy, not gooey and sugary, like a double-chocolate mudslide with extra caramel and brownie chunks.”
“Yeah, Dad.”
“Yeah, Dad,” Rickie echoed as she strolled down the hall. “Dairy Queen rules. Frozen yogurt drools.”
Spence looked at the trio and put on his in-command-of-the-jury face. “We can go after dinner. First, Calvin, you need to show me how you spent all your time while I was away. I know you had that puzzle and the LEGO Millennium Falcon I ordered for you.” He guided his son down the hall toward his bedroom. Spence told himself that he wasn’t petty enough to be annoyed that his son hadn’t been as excited to see him as he’d been imagining on the drive to the ranch.
