by Marin Thomas
Once she’d locked the bathroom door, Lydia followed the instructions on the test kit, then sat on the floor next to the claw-foot tub and counted the black and white hexagon tiles as she waited.
Her phone beeped with a text message. Gunner. He couldn’t know what she was doing right now.
I’m at the motel. Where are you?
I’ll be there in a little while.
Everything okay?
If he only knew.
Fine.
Karl’s doing electrical work. What do you want me to do?
Will you drive into San Antonio and pick up the paint for the rooms?
Text me the color info.
Will do, thanks.
She held her breath, hoping that was the last text from him. A minute passed. Then another. And another. Finally, she relaxed.
If she remained locked in the bathroom much longer, her aunt would check on her. She climbed to her feet and walked over to the counter. A line would decide her fate—two if she was pregnant and one if she wasn’t.
Lydia screwed up the courage to look at the stick, then blew out a shaky breath and returned to the kitchen. “I’m pregnant.” She sat at the table and reached for her aunt’s hand. Neither spoke as Lydia slowly came to terms with her situation. “I’m keeping the baby.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“You’ve got the Rinehart genes in you and the Rinehart ladies never run from trouble.”
Lydia opened her mouth to confess that the urge to run from this particular problem was powerful, but someone pounded at the back door before she could get the words out.
“What in the world is he doing here?” Amelia opened the door. “Emmett.”
“Amelia.” He cleared his throat. “I’m here to reassure Lydia that Gunner will marry her.”
Lydia stood so fast her chair crashed to the floor.
“What are you talking about?” Amelia spoke in a calm voice.
“You gonna stand there and pretend you don’t know?” Emmett said.
“Don’t know what? You’re not making any sense.”
“Sass me all you want, Amelia, but I heard Lydia bought a pregnancy test at the Walmart in Mesquite a short while ago.” Emmett’s gaze traveled over Amelia’s body. “Unless you’ve been lying about your age the past four decades and sleeping around, I don’t think that test kit was for you.”
“You’re acting like a jackass,” Amelia said. “This is none of your business.” She went to close the door, but Emmett’s boot got in the way.
“Anything involving my grandson is my business.”
Lydia walked over to her aunt’s side and faced Gunner’s grandfather. “Who told you I’m pregnant, Mr. Hardell?”
“One of those bimbo girls who follow the boys around the rodeo circuit told Martha Schuler, who told Bill Packer, who called Emma Sterns, who happened to be eating in the booth next to my table at the Cattle Drive Café. Emma asked me if it was true.” He raised his arms in the air. “I said I didn’t know, but I’d find out soon enough.”
“I assure you that I have the situation under control,” Lydia said.
“You’re not thinking of getting rid of the baby, are you?” he asked.
“Emmett!” Amelia slapped a palm against her chest. “You need to leave.” When he didn’t budge from the porch, she glared at his boot. “Now.”
“Not until I know if Lydia plans to marry my grandson.”
“I will not be marrying Gunner,” Lydia said.
“He’s the father of your baby, isn’t he?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we have to marry.” This wasn’t right. Lydia should be having this conversation with Gunner, not his grandfather.
“Talk some sense into that gal.” Emmett pointed at Lydia.
Amelia planted her hands on her hips. “This is between Lydia and Gunner.”
“What’s between Lydia and me?” Gunner climbed the porch steps, wearing his usual good-natured grin.
“You’re supposed to be driving into San Antonio to pick up the paint for the motel,” Lydia said.
“I thought you might like to ride along and stop for lunch at Porkies. They’re known for their barbecue ribs and it’s only fifteen minutes out of the way.” Gunner beamed at his grandfather as if he expected the old man to congratulate him on the idea. Instead Emmett took off his cowboy hat and smacked it against his grandson’s chest.
Gunner stumbled back a step. “What was that for?”
“For being stupid.”
“Stupid about what?”
“Lydia’s got a bun in the oven.” Emmett slapped his hat against Gunner’s chest a second time. “Take a wild guess who the baker is.”
Chapter Nine
Gunner swallowed hard, positive he’d misheard his grandfather. Lydia couldn’t be pregnant. They’d used protection—he always used protection. His heart dropped to his stomach when she refused to make eye contact.
“I’ll brew a pot of coffee.” Amelia grabbed Emmett’s shirtsleeve and dragged him into the kitchen, then pushed Lydia onto the porch before shutting the door.
“Is it true?” he asked.
“Yes.”
The one-word answer punched him in the chest. He removed his hat and shoved his hand through his hair. Baby bounced around inside his head, but he couldn’t grasp the meaning of the four-letter word. “We used protection.”
“Every time,” she said.
Had one of his condoms torn and they hadn’t noticed? It’s your fault Lydia’s pregnant. Of course it was his fault—he had the part B that fit into her part A. “I’m sorry.” What else could he say? “What can I do?” This was the first time he’d ever been in this situation and he had no idea what was expected of him.
“I’m taking responsibility for this pregnancy, Gunner.” She drew in a deep breath. “I don’t expect anything from you.”
“What does that mean?”
She rubbed her brow and her rosy cheeks looked as if they’d been snowed on. Gunner lunged forward and caught her around the waist, then guided her to the wicker chair in the corner. Once she was seated, he leaned against the porch rail and tried his best to keep his panic from showing. Fatherhood had never been in his plans. Oh, heck. What was he talking about? He had no plans.
He closed his eyes and tried to envision a little boy who looked like him but couldn’t. He wasn’t cut out to be a father. He knew it. His brothers knew it. Gramps knew it.
“Neither of us meant for this to happen.” The fresh tears in her eyes ripped him apart. She’d joined a dating site because she’d wanted to settle down, marry and have kids with Mr. Perfect—not him.
“We don’t have to make a big deal about this,” she said.
“A baby is a big deal.” Pregnancy hormones must have kicked in already, because she wasn’t making sense. “You want us to just ignore the fact that you’re pregnant?”
“Not us...you.”
He should have been relieved that Lydia was letting him off the hook, but the churning in his gut felt like indigestion. He thought of his mother running out on their family. For months after she’d left, he’d gone to bed wondering what was wrong with him. What terrible offense he’d committed that made his mother not want to have anything to do with him. After what he’d gone through, how could he walk away from his own child? “What are you saying?”
“I don’t expect you to help raise the baby. You never planned to have kids and you shouldn’t be burdened with this lifelong responsibility.”
She was serious. It hurt that Lydia had no faith in him. He stared into space, his fingers squeezing the handrail until his knuckles glowed white. Everyone believed he was nothing but a lazy cowboy—and until now he hadn’t had a good reason to change th
at opinion of him.
“We’ll get married,” he said. Because that’s what stand-up guys did—they took responsibility for their actions. Besides, his grandfather would kick his sorry butt across three counties if he didn’t propose to Lydia.
“No.”
“Why not?”
Her eyes rounded. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“What’s obvious is that you’re pregnant and I’m the father.”
“As much as I appreciate your offer—” she didn’t act like she appreciated it at all “—you don’t want to marry me.”
Maybe she did know him better than he thought. “You have no idea what I want.”
“You don’t love me.”
Love? “Who said anything about love?”
She flinched. “Why would you propose if you don’t love me?”
Why were they talking in circles? “It’s the right thing to do.”
Lydia’s mouth curved into a smile.
Was she mocking him?
“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on your gallant offer.”
Her flat-out refusal stunned him. “Why?”
“Seriously?” She stared with the same sober expression his third-grade teacher, Mrs. Cunningham, had leveled at him when she’d caught him making armpit-farting noises in class.
Keeping a lid on his frustration, he said, “You’re in no position to call the shots.”
“Really?” Her gaze dropped to his stomach. “I’m the one who’s pregnant unless you’re part sea horse.”
“What?”
“Male sea horses.”
If being a couple weeks pregnant made Lydia talk nonsense, he couldn’t imagine her jibber-jabber eight months from now. “What about male sea horses?”
“They can get pregnant.” She waved a hand in front of her face. “Never mind. Just know that you’re off the hook.”
A lot of guys in his situation would be relieved and overjoyed to walk away from the responsibility of raising a kid, yet he was petitioning the mother of his child to allow him into their lives. “Most women would expect the father of their child to step up and—”
“Maybe those fathers aren’t...” She rubbed her brow.
“Finish your thought.” Even though he was confident he didn’t care to hear it.
“Immature.”
She’d gone for his jugular. He opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it closed. His father had put having a good time before his wife and kids. His mother had abandoned them for her own selfish reasons. All the good intentions in the world wouldn’t trump his genetics.
As much as it pained him to acknowledge that Lydia might be right, Gunner was man enough to admit he wasn’t ready to be a father. “We won’t get married, then.” It would be challenging enough worrying about being a good father, never mind a good husband. “But you’ll need help with the baby.”
“If it’ll make you feel better, you can send a support check every month or whenever you’re able to.”
Now she was pissing him off. “I’ll help you raise our child.” He’d make time for his own kid.
“That’ll be tough to do when you’re here and I’m in Wisconsin.”
He wondered if there was a chance of talking her into relocating to Stampede.
“No.”
She’d read his mind, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to change hers. “Then I’ll fly or drive to Wisconsin to help with the baby.” And once in a while she’d visit her aunt—but who knew how many years Amelia had left before she took flight with the angels.
“There’s no need for promises or assurances right now,” Lydia said. “I’ve got this under control.”
Translation... I don’t need you, Gunner. First his mother and now Lydia. “Aside from being caught off guard by this pregnancy, how do you feel about being a mother?” he asked.
Her smile reached her eyes. “I’m ready.”
He believed her, because she’d told him as much at the Singing Swine. But a baby would put a kink in Lydia’s online dating plans, and that pleased Gunner more than it should have.
The back door opened and Lydia’s aunt stepped outside with his grandfather. “Have you two resolved things?” she asked.
“For now,” Gunner said.
His grandfather poked his hat in Gunner’s chest. “When’s the wedding?”
He threw Lydia under the bus. “Lydia says there isn’t going to be a wedding.”
“Have you gone bonkers in the head, gal?”
“Emmett, I warned you,” Amelia said.
“You know what they call women who get pregnant and don’t have a husband?” Emmett asked.
“Gramps...” Gunner warned.
“In case you haven’t looked in the mirror lately,” Amelia said, “you’re old and times have changed.” She placed her hand on Lydia’s shoulder. “You gentlemen best be on your way.”
“You really screwed up, boy.” Emmett descended the steps and walked to his truck.
Gunner spoke to Lydia. “The offer’s still open if you want to come with me to San Antonio to pick up the paint for the rooms.”
“Thanks, but I’ll stay here and rest,” she said.
“See you later.” Gunner hopped into his pickup and followed his grandfather through town. It wasn’t until he passed the Moonlight Motel that he realized he’d left his wallet on the bed. He made a U-turn and headed back.
When he walked into room 1, Lydia’s scent filled his head and for the first time he wished he’d ripped out the carpet, removed the wallpaper and the furniture, because everything reminded him of Lydia. He fell backward on the mattress and stared at the ceiling, his chest tight.
Parenthood scared the crap out of him. He had a better shot at clinging to the back of a rank bronc than being the kind of father Lydia wanted for their child. Even though the odds weren’t in his favor, he’d step up and show Lydia that she and their baby could count on him.
He just had to figure out where to start.
* * *
“AUNT AMELIA, WOULD you mind if I hung out here with you a while longer after the motel renovations are finished?” Lydia stirred the oatmeal in her bowl with one hand and crossed her fingers beneath the kitchen table with the other.
“What about your decorating business?”
“I can connect with my clients using Google Chat and FaceTime.” She needed to work on acquiring new business, especially now with a baby on the way, but she wasn’t ready to tell her parents or cousins about her pregnancy. Lydia swallowed her oatmeal slowly, hoping her stomach wouldn’t object.
“You’re welcome to stay forever if you’d like.”
And as long as Lydia used her family as an excuse for wanting to remain in town, she didn’t need to acknowledge the truth—that she wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Gunner.
“I get lonely rambling around this big house by myself.” Amelia set a cup of decaffeinated green tea in front of Lydia. “But you realize, you can’t keep the baby a secret forever.”
Lydia blew on the hot tea. She couldn’t imagine her cousins’ reactions when they heard the father of her baby was one of the notorious Hardell boys.
“How do you think your folks will take the news?”
“They’ll be surprised.” But Lydia’s pregnancy wouldn’t impact their lives. Her father and mother were dedicated to their careers. They’d attend their grandchild’s birthday parties and get together on holidays, but as far as spending quality time with the child or offering to babysit—probably not.
“I’m excited about the baby.” Amelia smiled. “I’d love to hear the pitter-patter of little feet running through this house again. I remember how you, Sadie and Scarlett played hide-and-seek in the closets on the second floor.”
“We loved hid
ing out in the attic, too.”
“Why don’t we turn the third floor into a playroom?” Amelia clapped her hands. “And you could make one of the upstairs bedrooms into a nursery for when you visit with the baby.”
Lydia’s heart squeezed at the thought that her great-aunt might not live long enough to see the baby grow up. Since she needed a place to hide until she was ready to answer all the how, why, where, when and who questions, she jumped on board with the idea. “I would love to convert the attic into a playroom.”
“Good. What’s on your agenda for today?” Amelia asked.
“Check in with Gunner and see if he’s made progress painting the rooms.” With Karl still working on the electrical upgrades, Lydia had planned on helping Gunner paint, but she’d grown faint from the fumes on Monday and he’d told her to keep away from the motel. It had been almost a week since she’d turned down his marriage proposal, and although he hadn’t brought up the subject again, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t insist on helping her raise the baby. She could envision Gunner playing with their child, but when it came to discipline, she doubted she could count on his support.
“We’ll discuss the attic makeover after you call Gunner.”
“I’d planned to drive over to the motel and look at the rooms.” Plus, she wanted to see Gunner in person, because she missed him. There, she admitted it. She missed the goofy twinkle in his eyes when he teased her. Missed the smell of his cologne when he stood close to her. Missed the way he managed to bump into her in large spaces.
She just plain missed him.
Amelia grabbed her purse and walked to the door. “Since you have plans, I’ll pay Cecilia a visit. She’s been lonely after Harry left to drive a load of construction material up to Oregon. We’ll probably go out to supper tonight.”
“Have fun.” Lydia set her empty bowl in the sink, then went upstairs to brush her teeth and put on makeup. Afterward she studied the slim pickings in her suitcase and selected a blue cotton skirt and white V-neck T-shirt. She slipped her feet into a pair of low-heeled wedges and returned downstairs. Fifteen minutes later when she was confident her breakfast would remain in her stomach, she left the house.
