The Cowboy's Baby: A Small Town Montana Romance (Corbett Billionaires Book 1)

by Imani King

  "I honestly don't know," I told them. "Maybe the baby looks like him or something? I didn't get a close enough look."

  "He should get a paternity test," Amber said. "But that's none of our business now, is it? That's Dallas Corbett's problem, not ours. And not yours, Tia."

  We gossiped on late into the evening, but there wasn't much more talk of Dallas. I think that was on purpose – I think they were trying to shield me from the topic, to help me put it behind me. And it seemed to work, mostly. When it was time to leave, Amber held me back after the other girls were gone.

  "I wanted to talk to you for a sec, Tia."

  "Oh?"

  "Yeah – I just want to apologize again, without everyone else here. I didn't want you to feel pressured into accepting it. If you're still pissed, I mean. Which you have every right to be. I guess I just – ugh, I knew I was bad at keeping secrets, but I didn't know just how bad. For what it's worth, none of us would ever use information like this against you. What I'm saying is I know I blabbed but I also knew they would be sympathetic. That maybe they could help you get through it, like I wanted to do. That's not an excuse, I –"

  Amber was talking quickly, without taking a breath, the way you do when you're desperate to get a point across. I put my hand on her arm and looked at her. "I hear you. I get it. Doesn't mean I wasn't upset, but I get it. There's no hard feelings. I probably won't be coming to you right away if I win the lottery or discover that Parson's is a front for organized crime, but I'm not mad at you."

  "Good," Amber said, hugging me. "Thank you. And I'm going to work on it. On not having such a big mouth."

  "I believe you. And I think that's a good thing."

  "Oh and Tia, before you go?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Call me – call any of us – if you feel yourself weakening, OK? I know what it's like, trying to be strong while you're getting over some guy. I know those moments of weakness can be so hard to get through, and sometimes it seems like it would be so easy just to send him a short message –"

  "I'm not going to!" I protested.

  "I know! I'm just saying. You've been through a lot lately. So much more than most people your age. So I'm just saying I'm here. If you need to call, do it. Anytime. I mean it."

  The ever-present lump in my throat made itself felt. My vision started to blur. "I'm sorry," I burbled. "I'm always crying these days. Even over good things – like this, like all of you being so nice to me and accepting me into your group."

  "Don't be sorry," Amber responded sternly. "I mean it. Look at me, Tia. It's normal for you to be emotional. It's normal, girl! No one thinks you're strange or crazy, we understand. Come here."

  She gave me another hug – a real, tight, warm hug. And then she told me to be careful driving home on the dark roads and to watch out for deer. I promised I would.

  I drove home feeling heavy with sadness. Sad that it was over with Dallas, and sad because sad was just my default emotional state in those first few weeks and months after the accident. But I felt more OK with it than usual, more like a normal person rather than some constantly-bursting-into-tears freak. That's what friends do, isn't it? They don't make the pain go away, but they make it seem like something you can deal with. Something that might fade, one day, into the background of your life.

  And that's how it went for the next little while. I took on more shifts at Parsons, as many as DeeDee would give me. Filling my time up with work just meant there was less chance of slipping into a depression. I missed Dallas, who never did start shopping at Parson's again, but I was almost fine with missing him. Amber, Madison, Kayla and Marcy all took good care of me, fussing over me like solicitous hens, badgering me to come out with them even if I didn't feel like it, showing up at John and Jenny's house with pizza, constantly sending me supportive messages and prompts to call them, talk to them, lean on them. I honestly don't think I would have been able to handle things without that group of girls standing beside me. And Dani from home spent hours on the phone with me doing exactly the same thing – just being there, listening.

  It was over a month later, just as the air was starting to feel frosty in the mornings as autumn swept into River Bend, that I found myself sitting next to Amber one afternoon at our tills in Parson's. We were laughing about some customer or another, an older man with a strange habit of wearing fitted leggings. He'd just left and Amber was jokingly accusing me of having a crush on him.

  "Please, girl," I joked, "you're just jealous he came to my till. If anyone wants to date a middle-aged man in leggings, it's you."

  "He definitely seemed more like your type, though, Tia. Did you check out his butt? I mean, it's not like that thing's well hidden, not in that outfit."

  We were just goofing off, the way we always did when things were slow. I cackled, leaning down over the register and then suddenly sitting straight back up again as an aching pain shot through my breasts. "Ow!"

  "What is it?" Amber asked, munching on one of her ever-present granola bars. They were 'low fat' so, according to Amber, she could eat as many of them as she wanted. I didn't think her reasoning was solid, but who was I to deny a girl her granola bars?

  "My boobs," I whispered. "They're sore. I think I'm PMS-ing."

  "You get sore boobs when you have PMS? Huh. That doesn't happen to me. Maybe it was leggings-guy, Tia? Maybe your body is responding to his sexiness even while your mind is still in denial?"

  "Shut up!" I giggled, scrunching up an abandoned receipt and throwing it at her.

  She caught it mid-air and threw it right back. "You used condoms with Dallas, right?"

  "What?" I asked, surprised, and not making the connection between my sore boobs and Amber's question.

  "You used condoms with Dallas. Right?"

  I hesitated and her eyes got big. "Oh, Tia. Seriously? You didn't use protection? Girrrrrl..."

  I shook my head. "I know. Super dumb. At the time I told myself we would start but then it just – well, as you know, it didn't even go anywhere. I won't make that mistake again, believe me."

  Amber was looking at me the way you look at someone when you're trying to figure out just how stupid they are. When I asked her why, she responded with another question.

  "When did you get your last period?"

  At that point it dawned on me what she was getting at and I chuckled. "Oh my God, Amber. Are you – are you saying...? No. Just, no – it's not –"

  "Yeah," she cut in, not using the same joking tone I was, "but when did you get your last period, Tia?"

  "I don't know," I answered truthfully. "I don't keep track."

  "Have you had it since you were with him?"

  Humoring my friend, I tried to think back to when the last time I'd had my monthly visitor was. "Honestly, I can't remember. I don't – Amber, I don't know. What, you think I'm pregnant because my boobs are sore?"

  Amber shrugged. "Well you could be, couldn't you? That's how babies happen, isn't it? I'm kind of surprised you're treating this like a joke – if I was you I'd be freaking the fuck out."

  "I'm not treating this like a joke!" I answered, even though I was. "I just – Amber, seriously, it hadn't even occurred to me. I'm not pregnant, OK? And don't go telling the whole town I am."

  She visibly shrank back in her chair, like she'd been slapped, and I was immediately awash with guilt. She'd been making a real effort to keep her promise about being better at keeping secrets.

  "Oh," I said sheepishly, realizing how cruel what I'd just said must have sounded. "Amber, I didn't – I didn't mean it like that. You just surprised me with that line of questioning – I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."

  She looked down at the floor. "No, I deserved it. I –"

  "No you didn't! You've been trying – I've seen it. We've all seen it. That was a crappy thing to say – I was just being all defensive about the Dallas questions, I think. Please don't be upset. I know you've been trying."

  My apology was accepted, but the mood of the afternoon had ch
anged. Amber was dejected, even as she tried to hide it, and I felt guilty as hell. When our shift was over I caught up with her in the parking lot and insisted she have coffee with me at the little coffee-shop next to Parson's before going home.

  "I don't know, Tia, I'm pretty tired."

  I grabbed her and forced her to look at me. "No. No, Amber. You're coming to have coffee with me. Honestly, you've been amazing, ever since I met you. You put up with me being a crybaby all the time, you supported me through whatever that was with Dallas, and you even got me this job! I said something stupid earlier and I can see you're sad. Please come have a coffee with me, I don't want you going home feeling bad. OK?"

  She looked at me and smiled, finally. Not the usual big smile I was used to seeing on her face but better than nothing. "OK, Tia."

  "Good," I slipped my arm through hers.

  Once inside, I ordered a coffee. Just a plain coffee, because in River Bend, Montana, even frappuccinos were still considered pretty exotic. Amber ordered the same, and already seemed to be feeling a little better.

  At one point, I leaned across the table to grab the sugar and bumped my chest again. I winced, biting back another 'ow.' Amber caught the expression on my face, though, and just looked at me, eyebrows raised.

  "You really should take a test, Tia. It's not as ridiculous of a possibility as you think it is, you know."

  I rubbed my forehead, trying to hide that I was annoyed at her bringing it up again. "Maybe..."

  Thankfully she didn't push any further and we moved on to talk about other things. But as soon as I got home that night, and was alone in my room at John and Jenny's, I couldn't help standing in front of the mirror, smoothing my t-shirt down over my body and peering at my midsection. I turned sideways and did the same thing, lifting up my shirt that time. There was a little roundness there, but it was the same roundness my belly always had. Nothing bigger. I ran my hands up to my breasts, cupping them. They were a little tender.

  I don't know why I was so dismissive of the whole idea. Well, I do. I didn't want it to be true. It seemed impossible, even though my rational brain knew it wasn't. For the next week I kept my mouth shut about my aching breasts, but every day I checked my underwear for signs of my period, and became increasingly anxious when it didn't arrive. I tried, again, to think back to the last time I'd had it, but I just couldn't remember. I didn't feel nauseous, though. My belly looked the same as ever. Other than the painful breasts everything seemed completely normal.

  Over a week later, Amber came into the employee bathroom while I was in there checking my make-up. She glanced over at me.

  "Did you get it yet?"

  "Get what?"

  "Tia, you know what. Did you?"

  I turned away from the mirror and looked at her as a hot wave of anxiety washed over me. "No," I said quietly. "I didn't."

  "Then you should take a test. Come on, don't be dumb. Just get it over with."

  She was right. I had to take a test, if only to put my mind at ease. I took a deep breath. "OK. I will. They have them in the pharmacy section, right?"

  "Yeah. I'll go get one right now if you want. And I'll stay here with you while you take it."

  I wanted to say no. I wanted it to go away. I wanted to never have to think about it again. But I just nodded and waited there in front of the sink, staring into my own frightened eyes in the mirror when Amber left. Please don't let it be true. Please, universe, do me this one favor.

  She came back about five minutes later with two boxes, which she opened for me. "Here we go. You have to pee on these sticks. I did this with my sister. I'll wait right out here, OK?"

  I went back into the stall silently and emerged a short time later, my heart pounding. "How long does it take?"

  Amber looked down at the packaging. "Hold on, I'll check. Just, uh, grab a paper towel and put them on the counter."

  We waited for fifteen minutes, barely talking, as my anxiety levels rose higher and higher. "I can't look!" I blurted, when Amber's phone timer chimed to let us know we could check. "I can't. Seriously."

  "Do you want me to do it?"

  "Yes. Please, I can't do it. And, Amber?"

  "I'm not going to tell anyone, Tia," she said solemnly. "Either way, I promise you, I am not going to say a thing."

  I believed her. She really was making an effort, and I wanted her to know that I saw it. I stepped back from the counter so Amber could lean in and look at the results. I watched her bend down to get a closer look. When she looked up at me again I couldn't read the look on her face.

  "Well?"

  Instead of answering right away, she put her arms around me and gave me a hug. "Tia, I'm here for you. That's what I want you to know, OK? I'm here for you and I'm going to help you get through –"

  "It's positive?" I asked, my voice a strangled little squeak. But she didn't even have to say yes because I could just tell. The room started to spin and I leaned back against the wall with a thud, not even noticing it as my knees gave way and I slid slowly down onto the cold tile floor.

  "Oh my God," I breathed, burying my face in my hands. "Oh – Amber, oh my God. I'm so stupid. I'm so fucking stupid."

  "No!" Amber practically shouted, sitting down next to me and shaking me by the shoulders. "No. No, Tia. You are not stupid. I don't want you to say that again. This is –"

  "Yes I am," I moaned. "Of course I am. Who does that? Who has sex without a condom and thinks they won't get pregnant by magic? My parents would be so angry. I can't believe this is happening. I can't –"

  "Stop it! Right now! Damnit, Tia, look at me!" Amber yelled, finally grabbing my face and physically forcing me to look at her. "Stop doing this – stop saying those things. This isn't the goddamn olden days. You have choices. And you're wrong, you're not stupid. This happens to loads of people. It even happened to – actually, I can't say, but it happened to someone I know. People get carried away."

  I laughed bitterly. "Yeah, one of my friends back home got pregnant in eleventh grade. I was supportive, of course, but secretly I thought she was stupid for letting it happen. And now look. My first time. I'm that girl now, the one who gets knocked up her first time with some guy who doesn't even give two shits about her."

  At that moment, another employee pushed the bathroom door open and stopped short when she saw Amber and I curled up on the floor together. "Oh," she said, surprised. "I'll, uh, I'll come back –"

  "No," Amber told her, "it's fine, we're leaving now."

  She pulled me to my feet and steered me out of Parson's. "You're staying the night with me, Tia. I don't want you to be alone."

  I just nodded, unable to really process anything that was happening. It was twenty minutes later, when we were parked outside Amber's apartment complex, before I said anything else. Amber was rubbing my back.

  "I can't believe I'm not crying."

  "You're just in shock," she replied, pushing my hair out of my face. "Come on, let's get you inside. I'll make us some dinner."

  But I grabbed her wrist when she went to open the door and she turned back to me.

  "I'm pregnant?" I asked, still oddly baffled by a fact that shouldn't, in reality, have been baffling at all. "I'm pregnant? What – Amber, what am I going to do? What the hell am I going to do?"

  Twelve

  Dallas

  Unsurprisingly, Larissa Miller didn't take my refusal to let her stay at my place in River Bend – or my refusal to talk to her rather than work out our arrangements through our lawyers – well. What should have been clear that very first night she showed up with Bentley – namely that she was less interested in me having a relationship with our son than she was in me having a relationship with her – became even clearer as the days passed. She ignored my requests not to call me for anything other than arranging a visit with Bentley and took to calling me at all hours to yell about the many ways in which I'd ruined her life. And when she wasn't yelling about that she was begging me to give her a chance.

  Giv
ing Larissa Miller a 'chance' was one thing that was definitely not going to happen. The whole reason I'd made it a habit to only sleep with tourists or visitors was precisely because I was trying to avoid emotional entanglements with women. It worked, too. Until it didn't.

  Larissa's unwelcome presence in my life did give me one thing, though – a way to avoid thinking about Tia. With the ranch, the livestock and the constant harassment from a crazy woman, it wasn't too much work to keep telling myself that Tia was a slip-up and nothing more. A mistake. A beautiful, warm, funny, sweet mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. It was my traitor subconscious that let me down on that point, constantly bringing the girl with the dark, almond-shaped eyes back to me in my dreams. I woke up many a morning with a hard-on so stiff it could have been used to cut diamonds and an ache in my heart that stubbornly refused to let go.

  I missed her. It was a deep, visceral feeling, a sudden pang of loneliness when I came home from the fields in the evening and sat alone at my table eating canned soup or a sad looking sandwich I'd bought at the grocery store the next town over – which I was now shopping at so I could avoid seeing the one person who was capable of breaking me. Not that I admitted the latter fact to myself at all. It's only now, in hindsight, that it all seems so obvious.

  When Larissa realized I was serious about not being interested in a relationship with her, she started threatening me. At first it was just annoying – she knew people, bad people, bad guys, and she was going to send them to my house. To do what? She never said. I didn't think she knew any bad guys, but if she did I knew how to handle myself. I also knew how to handle the shotgun I kept propped up against the wall behind the front door. Soon, though, the threats became more serious. They started to center on my family, and the trouble she thought she could cause if word got out that Jacqueline and Bryan Corbett's wayward son had fathered an illegitimate child.

  It's not so much that I cared about any scandal that would hurt my parents – they had more money and power than they knew what to do with, and I was pretty sure they'd be more than happy to hand Larissa a tiny chunk of it to make her go away. It was that I simply didn't want to involve them in my life. I'd been very clear with them before I moved to Montana that they'd badly let me down after my return from Iraq, and I simply didn't want to be dragged back into exactly the kind of family drama I'd moved away to avoid.