by C. R. Moss
With his nerves on heightened alert, he fidgeted with the playbill in his hand. After a few bothered stares from the patrons seated next to him, he held the paper steady. Bristol Ashcombe gazed up at him from the front cover. My Bristol.
Dressed in a fringed white suede skirt, vest, and Stetson, her smile beamed from the brochure, invited him in. Although he was gung-ho to get her back, wanted to leave for New York the moment he read the note in the tree house, he still had responsibilities on the ranch and couldn’t slip away as easily as he wanted to. They had talked every week since she left, but she seemed distant. He didn’t understand why. Would she be happy he was surprising her with an in-person visit? He wasn’t sure another slap in the face from a woman he loved would bode well with his Dougan demeanor.
Cassie and Dak had told him not to worry, but that was all he could get from them in the terms of help and reassurance. Dak was pretty closed lipped, not wanting to interfere and try to fix anyone’s life anymore. Cassie had gone on a trip somewhere to visit a friend who was expecting a baby. He was on his own.
Tonight he would learn the answers to the questions he harbored deep in his heart. Though Dak really didn’t want to meddle, he couldn’t stand seeing him mope around the ranch anymore. His brother purchased him a ticket, packed his bags, and drove him under severe protest to the airport.
What if Bristol had someone else and had been keeping the news from him? Can I handle that?
His surprise visit would demand she talk to him, really talk to him. And conversing face to face would help to reveal what was truly troubling her.
The lights flicked once. A strong voice rang through the theater. “Five minutes to show time. Please take your seats.”
An influx of people entered the theater, quickly took their seats. Music piped into the theater filling the space with old country tunes his grandfather used to listen to. A small ache in his heart reminded him of how much he missed the man.
Damon prepared to let the pain of missing his grandfather travel through his body, but was cut short when the theater went dark. Seconds later white lights illuminated the old West stage and his heart did a somersault.
Bristol stood center stage dressed in the outfit she wore on the cover of the playbill. The same one she wore the day he took her riding and shooting at the ranch, but in white. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face when he thought of how she frustrated him that day. Stubborn woman.
Damon sat in awe as the play progressed. The people beside him clapped loudly when Bristol sang her songs, acted her parts to perfection. Excited and mesmerized by the little pint of Broadway energy, he joined in their sentiments, clapping extra loud, whistling every chance possible. Fantastic didn’t begin to describe the woman.
But it was the introductions during the standing ovation that threw him for a loop. When Bristol announced to the audience she would be retiring from theater for good because her life had taken an unexpected, exciting turn, his heart sunk. What did she mean? Why hadn’t she told him during their many conversations that she planned to retire? Why? She does have another man.
I should leave. But I won’t.
As the standing ovation came to an end, the cast took a final bow. The red velvet curtains closed, and the house lights went up.
Without skipping a beat—instead of running from the theater—he ran toward her dressing room, dodging security on his way. Out of breath, he stopped at her door. Gaining courage, he knocked.
“Who’s there?” Her sweet voice, the one that whispered she loved him nightly in his dreams, called from behind the door.
He opened his mouth, so many words scrambled in his mind, but nothing came out.
Just as he cleared his throat, gained courage to announce his presence, she swung the door open. “Yes, may I help you,” she asked just as her gaze settled on him. A bewildered look crossed her face. “Damon. What are you doing here?”
She was dressed in tight black pants and a tunic style grey shirt. Looking like she was in some kind of race to cover herself, one hand shot to her breasts. The other rested on her lower abdomen.
Confusion turned into curiosity. He glanced at her hands, then back at her face. Her beautiful face. “I thought I’d at least get a kiss when you saw me.”
Recognition dawned on her face. She vaulted into his arms. “Oh, Damon. You’re here.”
“There that’s better. I was starting to feel strange standing out here in the hallway like some unwanted step-child.”
“Hey, Bristol, I raided the catering truck for you,” a woman’s voice called in the hall.
“Uh, Cassie,” she stammered. “Look who’s come to visit.”
Cassie walked up to the door, stopped in her tracks. The surprised expression moving across her face practically pushed her eyebrows into her hairline. “Ah. Um. Hey, Damon. How are you?”
He placed Bristol at arm’s length, and still holding her elbows, moved his startled gaze over her body. “What’s going on?”
Bristol and Cassie exchanged glances, seeming to communicate something serious with several non-verbal cues. Cassie nodded her head while Bristol shook hers.
Cassie… Friend… Surprised, he focused all his attention on Bristol, the possible mother of his child. “You’re the one who’s pregnant?”
Bristol’s voice softened. “Yes. I am.”
Shock hit him like a freight truck. “How can you be pregnant? You said you couldn’t have children. You rattled off some disease you had.” Then he raked Cassie with a stare. “Wait a minute. You and Dak kept this from me? She’s the pregnant friend you’re visiting?” He looked back at his woman. “What’s going on here, Bristol.”
Bristol and Cassie grew silent.
Nausea rolled in his stomach. “You weren’t planning on telling me about the baby, were you?” Anger forced him to release her.
Like a rag-doll her arms fell to her sides. “Damon, it’s not what you think. I swear.”
“Really?” He couldn’t camouflage the slicing quality of his voice. “How could you keep something so important, so life changing, from me?”
Cassie stepped closer to Bristol. “Tell him why you kept it from him Bristol.”
She gave her friend a do-I-have-to look. Cassie nodded her head. With a sigh, Bristol spoke, “Damon, I don’t want to force you to be with me. I don’t want you to think I trapped you in any way. I want you to be with me because you want me, not because I’m carrying your child. That night we were together when the condom broke, and I told you I couldn’t get pregnant, you looked so relieved. So when I found out about the baby, well, I didn’t want to make you become a part of our lives and giving up this miracle child isn’t an option.” Worry darkened the color of her expression. “I’m sorry for keeping this from you.”
The letter she wrote prior to leaving the ranch slid across his mind. For someone who could be as stubborn as the day is long, she was prepared to raise his child on her own because she didn’t want him to feel trapped. God, he couldn’t love her anymore if he tried.
His anger and shock subsided, then completely disappeared. Bristol Ashcombe was his salvation, his beacon in the world. They were going to have a baby, a Dougan heir or heiress to the throne. It would be inconceivable for anyone or anything to try and stand in his way. He was going to make her his woman. Finally.
“Darlin’, don’t you know by now, through all of our conversations, that I love you? Everything about you. And the fact that you are standing in front of me carrying my child only makes me love you more.”
“I believe this is my cue to leave,” Cassie whispered and handed the food to Damon. Walking toward the stage door at the end of the hallway, she hummed the wedding march, looking over her shoulder one last time. Then she pushed the back-stage door open and disappeared from view.
Damon surveyed the Ho Ho’s, chips and red licorice. An affectionate chuckle rumbled prior to his words. “I think we should feed our child something a little more nutritious.”
A long black curl fell into Bristol’s eyes. “Are you saying you want the baby?”
His heart clenched. “No, Bristol. I’m saying I want both of you.” Lovingly, Damon pulled her into an embrace, placed the palm of his hand against her stomach. “Do you know what we’re having?” A big smile from her lit up his body like a firecracker, and sent him nuzzling his head against her cheek.
“It’s too soon to tell really, but I believe it’s a boy,” she whispered.
With her words, her hope for a son, his son, he stroked her stomach. “Our son.”
Holding his woman’s hand, he slipped his other hand in his jeans and pulled out his cell phone. Flipping it open, he hit speed dial.
The phone rang twice. A deep voice echoed back at him. “Hello.”
“Dakota. It’s Damon.”
“Hey, little bro. How’s New York? You still pissed at me?”
He deposited a kiss on Bristol’s cheek. “It’s awesome. And no, I’m not mad at you, though, you and Cassie do have some explaining to do.”
Dakota’s laughter rumbled over the line. “Guess you’ve seen her, huh?”
“Yeah. And I’m here now with Bristol. We’re coming home brother.”
Dakota’s deep laughter shook the phone. “I figured.”
“I’m bringing my woman and baby home.”
His brother whooped a shout of joy so loud Damon had to hold the phone out a few inches from his ear so Dakota wouldn’t shatter his ear drum. “Good things are happening, little bro.” Dead air for a second. “For all of us.”
Damon chuckled. “Yes they are. Gotta go. See you tomorrow night.”
“Yep, bring my fiancée back, will ya? Tell her I miss her.”
“Sure thing.” Damon ended the call. Once the phone went silent, Damon flipped it shut and stuffed it back into his pocket. He reached over and kissed Bristol’s forehead, rubbing a hand over her tummy once more. “Are you ready to go and get our son some real food?”
“Yes, he’s starving.” She touched his cheek. “I love you, Damon Dougan.”
“I love you, too, darlin’. You’re my dream come true. I never thought I’d say this, but losing Kristi was the best thing that ever happened to me. Her infidelity opened the door for you to come in. Now, every day I thank the fates that life happened that way.”
A grumbling sounded from Bristol’s belly, and he cocked an eyebrow at his boy talking to him. “I think our son needs to eat. Come to think of it, so does his dad. Let’s go find Cassie and feed our family.”
Bristol slipped a hand into Damon’s, and they walked out of the backstage door toward their life together.
The End
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