by Ali Olson
“It’s beautiful.” Amy sighed, running her fingers along the silky hem.
Cassie’s eyes sparkled as she stared at the dress, and Amy could tell she was close to tears. It seemed this was going to be a wedding-themed visit instead of a doctor’s visit, and Amy didn’t mind one bit.
“When does your family arrive?” Amy asked while they left the bathroom, wondering how big of a part Cassie’s mother and sister had in the wedding preparations.
Cassie rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’ll know when they get here. I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to hear my mom from your parents’ house. They fly in a couple days before the wedding.”
“Are you...excited to see them?” Amy asked, unsure if she was giving Cassie an opportunity to talk or overstepping her bounds.
Cassie threw her hands in the air in exasperation as she walked over to the bed and sat down. “I have no idea. I love my family, but my mother hasn’t always been the easiest person to be around, and I think she’s still uncertain about this whole thing. I just don’t want to be in charge of corralling her through the entire reception to be sure she doesn’t say anything insulting about us deciding to live ‘in the middle of nowhere’ instead of with ‘civilized folks’ in the city.”
Amy laughed at Cassie’s depiction of her mother. She really did sound like quite a handful, and Amy felt a rush of gratitude for her opinionated-but-ultimately-supportive Ma. “Why don’t you put Ma in charge of her?” Amy asked as the thought struck. “She’d love a job, and if anyone can convince a person about how great Texas is, it’s Ma.”
Cassie’s eyes lit up at the idea. “That might work,” she said, sounding excited. “I can tell my mom that the two of them are in charge of Zach and Carter.”
“If Ma gets to be with the twins and browbeat someone into loving Spring Valley at the same time, she might die of happiness. The rest of us will have a hard time following that act,” Amy said.
“That’s perfect, Amy,” Cassie said sincerely. “I’m so glad you came over. Speaking of, I never asked you why you were here. If you were looking for Brock, he and the boys are busy in town for a couple of hours.”
“No, I came to see you, actually. I had a weird dizzy spell earlier today and I wanted to check with you about it. You know, as my doctor and all,” Amy said, feeling a little silly.
Cassie immediately shifted into doctor mode. “Has this ever happened before? Do you have any other symptoms?”
Amy thought carefully. “It could be period-related, now I think of it. I’m a bit late and my breasts are a little tender. Probably just weird hormones or something. I’ve never gotten woozy like that before.”
“Well, I have one guess,” Cassie said immediately.
“I can’t be pregnant, Cassie,” Amy explained, knowing what Cassie was thinking. “A doctor told me that a decade ago.”
Cassie nodded, though she didn’t look convinced. “Well, will you take a test for me? That way we can rule it out entirely and move on to other diagnoses.”
Before Amy could say anything, Cassie was already back in the bathroom, scrabbling in a cupboard under the sink. After a few seconds, she popped back up with a pregnancy test.
“Whoa,” Amy said, “I didn’t think you’d have one quite so handy. Are you and Brock planning on growing your family already?”
“I keep some on hand for patient use,” Cassie explained, but when Amy didn’t break eye contact, she blushed. “But yes, we’ve talked about giving Zach and Carter a sibling before they get too much older. Now will you go take the test, please?”
Amy took the small object from her soon-to-be sister’s outstretched hand. “Okay, but after it comes back negative, will you please let this idea go for now? And really, the whole thing was probably just a weird moment that means nothing. I shouldn’t have even bothered you about it.”
Cassie held up her hands in promised surrender, and Amy closed the bathroom door behind her. After a minute, she opened the door again, allowing Cassie to reenter the bathroom. The test sat beside the sink. “How long does it take?” she asked Cassie, not even trying to hide her skepticism.
“Just a couple of minutes,” Cassie said, looking at her watch.
Amy turned her attention back to the white dress that took up so much of the bathroom. “So, are you hiding this somewhere so Brock won’t see it, or are you two not bothering with all that?”
“Oh, we’re bothering, all right,” Cassie answered. “I was actually hoping we could sneak it over to your place before he and the boys got back from their errands. I’m sure the McNeals would be able to keep it safe, and Ma invited me to get ready over there. I bet if I didn’t, she’d be bringing half the house over anyway, just in case we might need something.”
Amy chuckled. Ma wasn’t about to leave anything to chance for this wedding, Amy was sure of that. Guessing it had probably been long enough by now, she glanced down at the pregnancy test on the counter.
Amy was silent for a long moment before uttering a quiet “Oh.”
Chapter Nine
At dinner, Jack watched Amy carefully to see if she was still feeling off from her earlier dizzy spell, and it seemed obvious that she still wasn’t feeling herself. He didn’t say anything at first, not wanting to make her roll her eyes and insist she was fine. Besides, they were going to be saying goodbye for a few days, and he knew that was enough to make him act oddly.
It seemed silly for a weekend apart to be such a big deal, but it really was. By the time he got back from Wyoming, his career could be back on track, but their relationship might not be able to survive the time and distance that a real shot on the circuit would require.
Finally, though, Jack could tell that Amy was very distracted by something, and it wasn’t just her being worried or nervous about the weekend.
“What’s going on, Amy? You don’t seem like you’re actually here with me,” he told her, leaning in and grabbing her hand.
For the first time that night, she really seemed to look at him. He waited patiently to see what she’d say.
After a long silence, she finally opened her mouth. “I’m pregnant,” she said, in little more than a whisper.
The words rang in his ears as if she yelled them. She was pregnant? How could that be?
“But you can’t—” he started, but was unable to finish the sentence.
“I know,” she answered, her eyes wide with her own emotions.
He still couldn’t make his brain understand what she was saying. “You’re—”
“Pregnant,” she said again, even quieter.
Then it finally clicked. He broke into a huge grin and pulled her into a tight hug, almost lighting himself on fire when he leaned too close to the candle sitting on the restaurant table. “This is fantastic!” he said, not letting go of her. He couldn’t think anything beyond that.
Amy pulled away and searched his eyes with hers. He could see she was barely holding herself together. “Really, fantastic?” she said, shaking her head. “What about you moving to Wyoming and my job and I don’t even have health insurance and...”
Her voice drifted off and a tear slid down her cheek.
Jack wiped away the tear with one hand, his palm settling on her neck protectively. “We’ll figure it all out, Ames,” he said steadily, his blue eyes capturing hers.
He suddenly felt no doubt. Just pure joy. He was finally going to have the family he’d always wanted. Amy and their baby.
“Will you dance with me?” he asked, pulling her onto the dance floor and holding her close, his heart bursting with happiness.
* * *
I HAVE TO TELL HIM, Amy thought as they danced, but she couldn’t force herself to open her mouth. He was just so delighted that the words wouldn’t come out.
It would crush him to hear he might not be the father. This was what he’d always wanted, and the mo
ment she said those words, she wouldn’t be able to take them back. So instead she held him close and wished with all her might: Please, please let this baby be Jack’s.
For the rest of the evening, every time she got her courage up enough that she was about to tell him, she’d see the smile on his face or feel the squeeze of his hand on hers and she would fall silent again. By the time he suggested dessert, she was so exhausted from her internal struggle that she told him she wasn’t feeling well—which was true, but not for the reason he thought—and they left shortly after that.
“I wish we could spend more time together this evening, but you probably need some rest, and I have an early flight tomorrow,” Jack told her as he settled behind the wheel of his truck.
Amy nodded, but she must have looked anxious, because Jack gave her another big smile. “Don’t worry, Ames. I know it seems overwhelming right now, but we’ll get everything sorted out as soon as I get back Tuesday.”
Tuesday. That was when she’d tell him about Armand and the possibility that he might be the baby’s father. She needed to tell Jack the truth. But she couldn’t tell him right before they parted ways for the weekend. He would have to be at top form if he was going to do well with Sam Evans in Cheyenne, and that was too important to put in jeopardy.
She couldn’t tell him this possibly devastating information and risk him being so hurt that he screwed up his chance to pursue his dreams.
After a quick goodbye, Amy was relieved to see Jack leave. She felt guilty about keeping this secret, but it was for the best. Amy sighed and went to her bedroom, but she knew there was no way she’d be going to sleep anytime soon. After a few minutes of aimlessly wandering around the tiny room she opened her laptop and checked her email as a desperate bid for a distraction, hoping she could find something to keep her mind busy.
And she found it, though it wasn’t at all what she’d been hoping for.
Amy stared at her computer in disbelief, clicking on the top email robotically, hoping the article wasn’t what she thought. The title splashed across the top of the webpage finally brought her out of her stupor and she grimaced.
Married Prince of Monaco Caught in Moroccan Love Affair.
She read the first sentence with mounting disgust.
Prince Armand of Monaco, married father of two, was photographed in an illicit relationship while on a diplomatic visit to Marrakech, Morocco.
After that, she could only skim, unable to read in depth the words that publicized one of the biggest regrets of her life. The tabloid seemed to revel in pointing out again and again that the man in question was married, and the woman an American travel writer by the name of Amy McNeal. They didn’t seem very interested in how the woman in question had been duped into thinking he was single and had dumped him as soon as she discovered the truth.
And he could be the father of her child, she thought, appalled. It had to be Jack’s.
The fact that Armand was a prince only made her annoyed. He’d mentioned his “royal blood” as if she should know what he meant, but she’d been too wrapped up in her loneliness and desperate need for affection to care, and now she only saw it as a cause for this article. If he’d been anybody else, she wouldn’t be reading this internet tabloid right now.
As Amy scrolled, she saw with a sinking heart the pictures mentioned in the first sentence. She stared at the photos and groaned, her hand slamming against the desk in anger. Damn Armand and his smooth talk. There were three photos, each one as suggestive as the last. Armand’s arm curled around her waist as they ducked into a cab, Armand’s lips to her ear as he whispered his beautiful lies, a kiss captured at just the right moment.
Or wrong moment, in Amy’s case.
Amy’s head filled with if-onlys.
If only she had known he was married.
If only she hadn’t been feeling so alone when he approached her.
If only she’d seen through his handsome face and sweet words.
Then her phone buzzed and she read the text, only to add another if-only.
If only Jack hadn’t found out this way.
She read the message again:
I’m coming back over. We need to talk.
He had told her on their first date that he’d created a filter to email him when one of her articles posted—it seemed it worked on anything with her name on it. And her name showed up in the article several times, painting her as a sexy seductress. He must’ve driven home and checked his email to find this piece sitting in his inbox.
He could be coming over for an entirely different reason, she thought, before shaking her head at her own wishful thinking. There was no other possible reason for him to drive back so soon after dropping her off, she was sure of that much.
Amy sent a text back telling him she’d be waiting outside, then steeled herself for whatever might come next.
He’d understand, right? These photos had been taken weeks ago, before they had reunited. Why the tabloid had waited until now to print them, she couldn’t say, but they were still before her time with Jack. She was sure he hadn’t been some monk waiting for her for the past decade, so he couldn’t expect that of her.
But the baby. She hadn’t meant to sleep with Armand and then Jack so close together, hadn’t planned for any of this, and now she needed to come clean and let him know the baby might be someone else’s. Would he reject her and the baby in disgust? She couldn’t blame him if he did.
Amy stopped the train of thought and walked into the cool evening. No point in arguing against phantom accusations. She needed to give Jack the benefit of the doubt, hope he would take it all in stride.
When his truck pulled up beside her in the driveway, though, Amy’s heart sank. Any hope for a sympathetic response to the article disappeared at the sight of his face. She’d known him long enough to be able to tell when he was angry or frustrated but trying to hold it together. From the looks of things, he wasn’t managing it particularly well.
Jack held up his phone, the picture of her kissing Armand covering the screen. “What’s this about, Amy?” he asked, his voice calm enough that the irritation was only a sharp edge on her name.
“It was before I came home,” she said, hoping that would be enough to help him relax. He had to know that, right?
“How long before?” he countered, as if he already knew the answer.
So he’d read the article and done the math. He’d realized she had been seeing Armand almost up until the day she left for Texas. Amy sat down on the gravel and waited for him to say what she was sure would come next.
“How long after you slept with him were you and I together in the barn? Days? Maybe a week?”
He was right, of course, but he didn’t even realize the half of it, and it was her responsibility to tell him. Before she could explain, though, he slumped onto the gravel beside her while leaving enough space so they wouldn’t touch. “Am I just your rebound while you get over this guy?”
“No!” Amy exclaimed automatically. After a moment, though, she realized that wasn’t entirely true. “That first night we were together,” she admitted, the words sticking in her throat, “I was still hurting from Armand’s betrayal, and I don’t know if things would have...progressed so quickly otherwise.”
She felt him slump beside her. “But after that,” she added quickly, “every close moment we had was just you and me. Armand was gone, and all that was left was my affection for you and my shame that I ever bought into his lies when such a good man was waiting for me here.”
He didn’t answer, didn’t say anything. Didn’t even move. So Amy just kept talking, hoping she could say something that would make Jack understand. “Right after I was robbed, I was feeling so alone and unhappy, but I hadn’t gotten up the guts to come home. Then this guy comes up to me with his flattering words, and I fell for them out of desperation. I was stupid and he was manipulati
ve. I didn’t know he was married at first, and I never realized he was a prince.”
Amy paused again, but Jack said nothing. She wanted to look at him, but kept her eyes on the gravel. It was safer at the moment. “We were together for a couple of weeks before his true colors started to show. He was...not a nice guy,” she said, knowing she couldn’t do justice to the way he’d treated her. “It was only when I found out he was married that I wised up and bought my plane ticket. I flew home the next day.”
Jack gave a low whistle, and Amy blushed. She knew Jack had done the math again, and it definitely didn’t put her in a good light. This was when she had to say the rest. “And the baby—”
Before she could get out the rest of the words, Jack gasped and threw his face into his hands. It broke her heart to see him that way. “It’s not mine,” he said, his voice full of despair.
“I don’t know,” she responded, her voice quiet.
They sat there in silence for a long while, until she couldn’t take it anymore. “I didn’t plan for it to be like that, you know. I didn’t plan for any of this. But I don’t want to lose you, Jack.”
Her story done, Amy waited.
And waited.
Still, Jack said nothing. Just when Amy didn’t think she could take the silence any longer, Jack stood. Amy could hardly see him in the dark, but she watched carefully for any sign of his feelings. He didn’t seem angry, but he wasn’t looking at her, either. “You should probably get inside,” he told her, his voice flat. “It’s too cold to be out without a sweater.”
“What about you?” she asked, meaning so much in that sentence.
“I just...need time to think, okay?” he answered.
What could she say to that? “Okay,” she responded quietly.
“I’ll talk to you on Tuesday,” he said as he walked to his truck without a backward glance.
Her skin was goosebumped and she’d begun to shiver, but she waited until long after his truck disappeared before she went back inside.
