Pregnant by the Colton Cowboy

by Lara Lacombe

  “She’s going to make me some maternity clothes! She said she wants me to serve as the model for some maternity pieces she’s thinking about adding to her collection.”

  “That’s wonderful! I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in whatever she makes for you.”

  “You think so?” Maggie sounded doubtful.

  Thorne reached over and found her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I know so. You’re already a beautiful woman. Claudia’s clothes will only enhance your loveliness.”

  “Thank you,” she said, sounding a bit choked up. “I don’t mean to fish for compliments. It’s just hard to feel pretty sometimes, with all the changes going on in my body right now.”

  “I can imagine,” he said, feeling a pang of sympathy for her. He wished there was something he could do to make this time easier on her, but it was something she had to experience alone.

  “I know my belly isn’t very big right now, but for the past few days I’ve felt huge,” she went on. “I might need to borrow some of your sweatpants, if you have any.”

  “You’re welcome to anything I own. But wouldn’t you rather get something that fits you properly?” He pictured her in his pants, the fabric of the legs hanging past her feet. That was a tripping hazard if he’d ever seen one...

  “Well, yes, I would. Do you have time to make a quick stop? There’s a band I can buy to hold my pants up until Claudia has time to make some of the clothes for me.”

  “That’s no problem,” he said, changing course to take her to the local baby store.

  An hour later, they climbed back into the truck. Thorne felt overwhelmed, and he could tell by Maggie’s wide eyes and thousand-yard stare that she did, as well.

  “Babies sure do need a lot of things,” she said quietly.

  “I had no idea,” he replied. He’d known about the diapers, of course, but he hadn’t thought there was much more to it than that. After all, babies were tiny. How much stuff could they actually require?

  A lot, if the store was anything to go by.

  Where was it all going to fit? His apartment had never felt small before, but as he considered all the paraphernalia they were apparently going to need, he began to worry there might not be enough room at his place.

  “Do you think all that stuff is really required?” she asked, sounding a little hopeful. “I mean, people have been having babies for centuries without all that gear. Surely most of it is just crap that we’re made to think is indispensable. Right?”

  “It’s got to be,” Thorne agreed, feeling a wave of relief at her words. “We can definitely get by with just the basics. The baby won’t know if the diapers are coming out of a decorative cloth hamper or the cardboard box we bought them in. It would be silly for us to waste money on stuff like that when we’ll need it for other things.”

  Maggie let out a sigh. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. I’m glad you agree.”

  A warm glow started in Thorne’s chest. They hadn’t exactly made a huge parenting decision just now, but it was nice to know they were starting out on the same page. The quiet that settled over the cab of his truck as he drove home was calm and peaceful, a nice change from the charged silences from a few days ago. This subtle change in their interactions gave him hope he could convince Maggie of his feelings for her. Not today, of course. But soon.

  He pulled into the drive and killed the engine, but didn’t open the door right away. He didn’t want to break this moment between them. Even though they hadn’t talked much after the baby store, he felt connected to Maggie in a new way. He wanted to strengthen that tie between them before it snapped.

  “I want to show you something,” he said softly.

  She glanced over, her expression curious. “What is it?”

  “You’ll see.” He climbed out of the truck and walked around the hood to open her door and help her down. Taking a chance, Thorne tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. She didn’t pull away.

  Mindful of her shorter stride, he led her into the barn and down the main aisle until they reached the far end. He stopped in front of the stall tucked into the back corner, away from the other horses and the noise of the dooryard.

  “How’s my girl?” he crooned into the shadowed depths.

  There was a soft rustling, then the horse approached and stuck her golden head over the low boards of the stall door. Maggie gasped softly, but he saw she wasn’t afraid.

  “She’s beautiful,” she breathed.

  “Yes, she is,” Thorne agreed. He reached forward to stroke the mare’s velvety-soft ears. “Her name is Yellow Rose, but we just call her Rose.”

  “Can I touch her?”

  “Sure. Just present your hand so she can sniff you first.” He took her hand and curled her fingers into a loose fist, then extended it toward Rose. “Like this,” he said. “You always want to keep your fingers tucked under, in case the horse you’re meeting decides to get snappy.”

  Maggie held her fist still as Rose snuffled her skin. She glanced over and he gave her a nod. Moving slowly, she raised her arm and placed her palm on the flat expanse of Rose’s cheek. “Hello,” she said quietly, stroking her gently.

  Rose blinked her dark brown eyes and nuzzled against Maggie’s shirt. “Oh!” Maggie said, letting out a little giggle at the horse’s actions. “Does she think I have food for her?”

  “She’s an eternal optimist,” he explained, smiling at the pair of them. “She gets a treat once a day, but that doesn’t stop her from investigating every visitor in the hopes they might have a spare morsel.”

  “Is it time for her treat?”

  Thorne checked his watch. “She’s probably already had it for the day, but I suppose we can make an exception.” He walked over to a bin of apples a few feet away and retrieved one, which he offered to Maggie. “Want to give it to her?”

  “Oh, yes! I want her to like me.”

  He smiled at that, taking in Rose’s relaxed stance and Maggie’s obvious enjoyment of the horse’s presence. “I don’t think you need to bribe her with a treat for that, but here you go.” He took Maggie’s hand and placed the apple on her flat palm. “Hold it like this, so she doesn’t accidentally nip your fingers.”

  Maggie offered the fruit to Rose and grinned widely as the horse lipped it up. After a few quick chomps, Rose swallowed her treat and nuzzled Maggie again.

  “You’re so friendly,” Maggie observed. She stroked along Rose’s neck, murmuring softly in her ear. Thorne leaned against the stall and watched them, a warm feeling of contentment spreading in his chest. He was happy to see the pair of them getting along so well. Yellow Rose was his favorite horse; she was a sweet, gentle soul, a true joy to be around. It meant a lot to him that Maggie liked her.

  “Why are you here all by yourself?” she asked the horse. “You’re so pretty and good-natured. Don’t you want to play with the other horses?” She glanced quizzically at Thorne.

  “Normally, she stays in a stall farther down,” he said, nodding toward the front of the barn. “But I’ve got her back here because I don’t want her to get too stressed.”

  “Is she sick?” Maggie stood on tiptoe and craned her neck, peering inside the dimly lit stall in an apparent search for signs of injury or ailment.

  Thorne smiled at her concern. “No. But she is expecting.”

  “Oh,” Maggie said. “When is she due?”

  “Within the next ten days or so,” he replied. “It’s her first time foaling, so I’m keeping a close eye on her.”

  “You’re just surrounded by pregnant females,” she observed dryly.

  “Yeah, but at least I know how to help the horse.” He spoke without thinking, and immediately wished he could take the words back. But it was too late. Might as well go all in, he thought with a silent sigh. “I’m worried I won’t be able to help you,
when the time comes.”

  Maggie was silent a moment. She was facing the horse so he couldn’t see her expression, but her hand continued to stroke Rose’s neck with slow, sure movements. “I’m scared, too,” she said, her voice small in this quiet corner of the barn. “Not that you won’t help, but that I won’t know what to do.”

  He wanted to reach out to her, to offer her the comfort of his touch. He hesitated, but decided to take a chance. He needed to show her with his actions that he truly cared.

  She didn’t move when he placed his hand on her shoulder. Thorne decided to take that as a good sign; she might not be jumping into his arms, but she wasn’t pulling away, either. It was a start.

  “I don’t know much about human births, but I’ve seen my fair share of foalings. If people are anything like horses, your body will know what to do.”

  Maggie laughed softly. “I’m not actually scared of giving birth. Not yet, at least.” She turned to face him, her face half-hidden by the shadows. “I like my doctor, and I know she’ll do her best to help me through the delivery. It’s the stuff that comes after I worry about.”

  “The diapers and 3:00 a.m. feedings?” he asked lightly.

  She gave him a wan smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Not exactly.” She paused, apparently weighing her next words. “For the longest time, I thought I wasn’t going to ever be a mother. Now I can’t help but wonder if I’m going to be able to handle it.”

  “Of course you will,” he said, a little more forcefully than he’d intended. “Maggie, you’re one of the strongest women I know. And you have so much love in you—it’s one of the things that first drew me to you. You will make an outstanding mother. In fact, I don’t think you could be a bad mother even if you tried.” He squeezed her shoulder gently for emphasis.

  She laughed and shook her head. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

  “I’m serious,” he said. “I’m kind of an expert in bad mothers. Please believe me when I tell you that you have nothing to worry about in that regard.”

  She turned back to Rose and began to thread her fingers through the horse’s mane. “Thank you for that,” she said softly. “It means a lot to know that you believe in me.”

  Thorne trailed his hand down her arm, his fingertips grazing her skin as he dropped his hand back down to his side. “I do,” he confirmed. “You’re one of the only people I do believe in. And I know my faith in you is not misplaced.”

  Maggie looked down, her forehead nearly touching Rose’s nose. The horse sniffed inquisitively at her hair, but Maggie didn’t appear to notice. He saw her throat move as she swallowed hard, and she closed her eyes. For a second, he thought he heard her whisper, “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.” But her words were lost in the shuffle of Rose’s feet as the horse adjusted her stance on the shavings covering the floor of her stall.

  Thorne’s hands itched to gather Maggie into his arms and hold her close, but he sensed she didn’t want to be touched right now. So he tried to change the subject, hoping it would help lighten her mood.

  “You know, I think Rose gets lonely back here during the day. I take her out for exercise, but since she’s so close to foaling I’ve been keeping her away from the other horses. I think she might like some company, if you’ve a mind to visit.”

  Maggie sniffed quietly and visibly pulled herself together. “I’d like that,” she said, blinking the sheen from her eyes. “Can I give her a treat when I come?”

  Rose’s ears pricked forward at the word, and the two females regarded him with such hopeful expressions he couldn’t help but smile. “That’s fine,” he said. “But not too many, okay?”

  Maggie nodded and dropped a kiss on Rose’s long nose. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sweet girl.”

  Rose whuffed agreeably and nudged Maggie’s shoulder, as if to pat her new friend goodbye.

  Thorne made a mental note to set out a stool for Maggie in the morning. If she was going to spend time with Rose, he wanted to give her the option of sitting down while she visited.

  They headed back to the front of the barn. Maggie smothered a yawn as they walked, and Thorne glanced at his watch, surprised to find it was later than he’d thought. No wonder she was tired—he’d kept her out for most of the day. He’d help her upstairs, get her settled on the couch with a glass of water, and then he’d head to the kitchen and whip up a quick dinner. He searched his brain, trying to come up with a mental inventory of the contents of his fridge and pantry. There had to be something he could make that would appeal to her delicate stomach...

  He was so caught up in his musings that when he felt the soft touch on his upper arm he dismissed it, thinking it was simply the shifting of his shirt fabric as he moved. But then he registered the feel of Maggie’s fingers as they curled around his biceps, and he realized she had reached for him as they walked.

  His breath stalled in his chest and his stomach fluttered with sudden awareness. This was the first time Maggie had initiated any kind of physical contact since her car had exploded. He wanted to shout in triumph at this development, but he settled for a small, private smile. Right now, Maggie reminded him of a skittish horse showing the first signs of trust. He knew from experience it was best not to make a big fuss, lest he frighten her back into her shell. But he couldn’t ignore the gesture, either. This small step forward was too important for him to pretend otherwise.

  Thorne placed his hand over Maggie’s in silent acknowledgment. They climbed the stairs to his apartment together, his heart glowing with renewed hope.

  Chapter 14

  He stared through the windshield of his car, hatred narrowing his field of vision until the only thing he could see clearly was the large red barn, standing tall and proud among the surrounding buildings.

  He still couldn’t believe his earlier attempts had failed. To survive a car explosion was one thing, but he’d thought for sure that being trapped in a room with angry rattlesnakes would have done the job. The man must have been born under a lucky star to still be alive.

  Bastard.

  Memories assaulted him, visions of Livia pelting him one after the other until he wanted to scream. He gripped the steering wheel, the solid feel of the plastic under his palms anchoring him to the here and now.

  In a way, he should thank the bitch. Her escape from prison had given him the perfect cover for his revenge. As soon as the job was done, he’d make sure the blame was placed squarely on her shoulders. No one would question it—her reputation as a vicious psychopath was well established, and no one would think twice about adding another death to her tally.

  The man just had to die first.

  But how? It was a question he normally didn’t mind pondering. In fact, it gave him great pleasure to imagine his nemesis suffering, writhing in pain and crying out for a relief that would never come.

  In hindsight, perhaps it was a good thing the explosion had failed. He would have died too quickly. The snakes would have maximized his suffering, but then again, the bites might not have proved fatal. As disappointing as it was to know the man was still alive, he relished the new opportunity to inflict pain on this most deserving target.

  He focused on the barn once more, a fresh plan forming in his mind. He would need a distraction, something serious. Something that might kill his target outright. The other man’s luck had to run out eventually.

  But if it didn’t? If his nemesis somehow survived once more?

  He’d be waiting for the opportunity to strike. The man wasn’t going to walk away again. He was going to end this, once and for all.

  “Soon,” he whispered in the silence of his car. “This will all be over soon.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Maggie walked softly down the main aisle of the barn, eager to see Rose but not wanting to startle her by making a noisy arr
ival. She reached the stall door and was just about to call out when she hesitated, uncertain if the horse would remember her from yesterday. Would her sudden appearance frighten the animal? Thorne had said she was a little on edge as she approached her foaling time. What if her visit upset the horse so much she went into early labor, or otherwise hurt herself in a bid to get away from a stranger? Maggie had seen the look on Thorne’s face when he’d brought her to see Rose—she could tell how special the horse was to him. She’d never forgive herself if something happened because she had made a mistake around the animal.

  She took a step back, intending to sneak away without bothering Rose. The horse shifted in the stall and let out a curious-sounding whicker. Then she stuck her head over the stall and let out a welcoming whinny.

  “Hello,” Maggie said, stepping forward with a smile. She held her hand out for Rose to sniff, careful to make a loose fist the way Thorne had shown her yesterday. Rose nuzzled her skin with her soft nose, her whiskers a rough contrast to the velvety feel of her muzzle.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d remember me,” she said. Rose’s ears flicked forward and she tilted her head to the side as if to say, Whyever not? Apparently, horses were much smarter than Maggie had thought.

  “How are you feeling today?” Maggie felt a little self-conscious talking to the horse as if she could really understand her words. But there was a sweet intelligence in Rose’s dark brown eyes, and something told Maggie the animal comprehended quite a bit.

  Rose shook her head lightly and pressed her nose to Maggie’s belly. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Maggie said with a laugh. She reached into her pocket and withdrew the apple Thorne had left on the table this morning, along with a note that read simply: your bribe for the day.

  She presented the treat to Rose, marveling at the delicate, precise movements of such a large animal. While the horse enjoyed her treat, Maggie stepped over to the stool someone—Probably Thorne, she thought—had left next to the barn wall. She pulled it closer to the stall door and climbed on, settling into a comfortable position as Rose finished the fruit. A narrow window high on the wall next to the stall was open, letting in fresh air and bathing this end of the barn in a soft golden light that made Rose’s pale tan coat glimmer. She looked almost too pretty to be real, and in that instant, Maggie understood why people were so passionate about these animals.