The Rodeo Cowboy’s Baby

by Heidi Rice

  His dark brows slammed down, the displeasure in his eyes rippling through his whole body. And she could see he’d probably rather saw off his own nuts than offer her a lift, too.

  He hates you, for what you did. And he’s only going to hate you more when you tell him about the baby.

  Evie braced herself against the disgust in his face, the animosity radiating from his whole body. And forced down the brutal sob of grief at how much his attitude to her had changed.

  Gone was the man who had charmed and seduced her so effortlessly two months ago. Who had made her laugh. Who had made her feel good about herself for the first time in a very long time. The sexy assured tilt of his lips, that delicious dimple in his cheek, the twinkle of mischief in his eyes, the fire of desire, had all been replaced by fury and disgust.

  And it was all her own fault. So what right did she have to grieve the loss of that man?

  All the vain, desperate hopes she’d been nurturing during the flight from LaGuardia and the taxi journey from Bozeman to Marietta—that he might not hate her too much, that he might not be that angry about the column, that he might still be willing to give her the benefit of the doubt—fell into the black hole in the pit of her stomach, which had opened up as soon as she’d bought her plane ticket, two days ago.

  She’d had a fortnight to consider her options. Had seriously contemplated not telling him about their baby. But eventually her conscience had got the better of her and she’d known, for her baby’s sake, as well as Flynn’s, she couldn’t wimp out of this confrontation. One day their child would ask about its father—and she needed to be able to give it an honest answer. Not only that, but how could she keep his child a secret from him? She couldn’t give him a choice about becoming a father, but she could give him a choice about how involved he wanted to be.

  “You’ve got a cell phone,” he said, the barely leashed fury in his voice lacerating Evie’s skin. “Call a cab.”

  “It’s out of charge,” she lied, starting to shiver now in earnest. Despite the bright sunlight, the weather was brittle and she hadn’t really accounted for the Montana temperatures when she’d packed for this trip, way too busy going over and over in her mind how she was going to say what she had to say to Flynn. Unfortunately, that carefully rehearsed speech was now wedged in her solar plexus right behind the ball of shock—and desire—at seeing him again.

  And she did desire him still, way too much. How pathetic was that?

  Because despite the vicious slice of contempt in his tone and the harsh light of temper in his eyes, her nipples had hardened like pebbles beneath her bra, and the hot spot between her thighs had melted as soon as she’d spotted him standing on the porch.

  “Fine.” He whisked an iPhone out of his pocket. Tapped out some numbers. Then cursed. “Would you fucking believe it,” he hissed under his breath. “No coverage.” He shoved the phone into his back pocket. And crossed his arms over his chest. “You can take the truck back. I’ll collect it another time. I don’t want you on my land. And I sure as hell don’t want to take a ride with you again.”

  Evie’s heart sank into her toes at the evidence of how determined he was to get rid of her. And exactly how much he despised her. The brutal heat at the memory of what had happened the first time they had been in the cab of his truck together was like a cruel joke.

  “Okay, I will,” she said, pushing the fear and longing to one side. “But I need to tell you something first. I’m…” She hesitated, the cruel reality of how irrevocably she was about to change his life giving her pause. “I’m pregnant. And I’m going to have the baby.”

  His eyes darted down to her belly, his arms falling limply by his sides, the shock on his face so raw and vivid she had to swallow again to continue her speech.

  “It doesn’t have to be yours, if you don’t want it to be. That’s entirely up to you. I’m willing…” She cleared her throat again, because he still hadn’t spoken, his expression one of blank astonishment. “No, I’m happy to take all the responsibility, because I’m overjoyed about the life growing inside me.” She pressed her fists into her belly through the coat pockets, reassured by the knowledge of what lay beneath the skin, and the deep drawing feeling of connection and love she knew would never fade. Her throat closed, the sting of tears ones of joy now, at the memory of the tiny fetus she’d seen for the first time on the sonogram screen two weeks ago.

  “I wanted you to know you’ve given me a gift that I will cherish for the rest of my life.” He’d given her this precious life, and a chance she’d believed she would never have to be a mother. And however much he hated her, she would always be grateful to him for that. “And I wanted to give you the choice,” she added, the tears clogging her throat now and making her voice wobble. She gulped down a steadying breath. “To be involved or not involved in this child’s life. But it’s entirely up to you. No pressure.”

  His gaze rose from her belly, to lock on her face, the shocked expression turning to something equally raw and unreadable.

  “Are you…” He cleared his throat, his voice barely a murmur. “Are you kidding me?” She heard it then, the croak of pain, alongside the raw edge of shock and disbelief. “You said this couldn’t happen. I asked and you said there was no chance.”

  She’d been expecting the question, had prepared an answer, but he didn’t sound angry or accusatory, he just sounded hurt and sort of horrified. His reaction crucified her. And she wasn’t even sure why.

  She had been prepared for him to deny any responsibility, had even thought she would welcome it. A tiny selfish part of herself convinced that having this baby alone, bringing it up alone would be so much easier—because she wouldn’t have to consider his feelings, wouldn’t have to make room for him in her baby’s life. But as she watched his face, took in the broad shoulders, the rugged beauty of his features, and remembered the tender, funny, capable, caring guy she’d fallen halfway in love with after only three days, she realized the selfish folly of that notion.

  She’d grown up without a father herself. She knew exactly how tough that was. Even if she would never be the judgmental tyrant her mother had been, blaming her for all the disappointments in her life, Evie didn’t want her child to grow up not knowing this guy. Because unlike her own father, who’d walked out on her mother without a backward glance after knocking her up, Flynn was one of the good guys. The sort of guy who would make a wonderful father one day—but obviously not today.

  “I’m so sorry, Flynn,” she said. “I know this is a shock. And I know I said that this couldn’t happen, because I genuinely believed it couldn’t. I thought I was infertile.” It sounded so ridiculous now, even saying it. And she could see he was not impressed with her explanation when his features sharpened, the first show of temper peeking through the fog of disbelief.

  “How the hell can you be infertile if you’re pregnant?” he asked.

  “It’s a long story,” she managed, wishing for the first time that he had known about Evie8, that he’d read her column religiously, because perhaps then he’d believe her, and forgive her for being such an eejit.

  “You better start telling me it because…” he began, but then another man’s voice called out from inside the cabin.

  “Hey, Bro, where the hell’s the coffee? I’ve searched every damn where and I can’t…” The man stepped out on to the porch, broader and yet thinner than Flynn, he shared the same dark good looks. Although his skin lacked Flynn’s healthy tan and he looked older—at least ten years older—than Flynn’s twenty-eight years, the family resemblance was striking. Clearly the O’Connells had great genes.

  “Hey, miz.” He tipped an imaginary hat in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said, then he noticed the truck and a slow smile edged across his handsome features. “You bought the truck back. Awesome.”

  “Gabe, get lost, we’re having a private conversation,” Flynn said, acknowledging his brother—because this man surely had to be a close relati
on—for the first time.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me to the lady?” the older man said, not budging from his place on the porch.

  “She’s not a lady,” Flynn murmured.

  The comment would have hurt but there wasn’t a lot of heat behind it. He still looked stunned, Evie thought. Her heart thundered against her ribs, her belly jumping and jiggling now, too. She pressed her fists deeper into her pockets, the emotions she was trying to keep under wraps threatening to spill over her lids. She’d dropped a bombshell on him, and she knew how that felt, because she’d had a bombshell dropped on her two weeks ago. The only difference was, this was a bombshell she had dreamed about dropping into her life for years.

  “Damn, Flynn.” Gabe’s outrage cut through the tense silence snapping in the air and Evie felt stupidly grateful for his presence. “I’m sure glad Mom isn’t here to hear you talk that way in front of a lady.”

  “I told you, she’s not a goddamn lady,” Flynn replied, the frustration in his tone almost sharp enough to cover the jagged edge of emotion. He thrust an arm out toward her. “Seeing as you’re so damn keen to be introduced. This is Evie Donnelly, the woman who screwed me and then told everyone and anyone what a jerk I was.”

  Evie flinched at the hurt in his voice. She needed to explain to him what had happened with the column, and apologize properly for her part in it, but before she could even form the words, his brother’s chuckle had them both staring at the guy.

  “You’re kidding? This classy lady?” Walking off the porch, Gabe’s bloodshot eyes lit up with amusement.

  Evie stared as the grin on his face spread and he continued to chuckle.

  Amusement was the very last thing she would have expected, after Flynn’s introduction, especially from his brother. She’d known she was coming into hostile territory today. Which was precisely why she hadn’t contacted Charlie or Logan when she’d arrived. And she’d been right, because nearly all the people she’d encountered in Marietta, while passing through on her way to the ranch, had treated her as if she had the plague.

  “Ain’t you that lady journalist who trash-talked our rodeo?” had been the less than charitable verdict of the girl in the nail salon when she’d popped in to ask if Marietta had a local cab company because the driver from the airport had insisted on dropping her in town.

  Thank goodness, the gullible young assistant sheriff’s deputy who had been manning the desk at the sheriff’s office hadn’t recognized her, or she was sure he never would have believed her story about being a close friend of Flynn’s and being in town to collect the truck she’d spotted sitting on the forecourt. It had been an audacious move, but she’d been desperate, the local taxi driver refusing to take her anywhere without Logan’s permission—because apparently Logan had set himself up as Flynn’s first line of defense.

  Flynn’s brother though didn’t seem to share the animosity of Marietta’s reserve deputy and the rest of the county. Because he was still chuckling, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes reminding her painfully of Flynn as he had been two months ago.

  He held out a hand to her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miz Evie. And I’ve gotta thank you for that column. The rodeo Romeo was a rebound ride to remember.” He chuckled, obviously tickled, as he recited one of Janice’s worst lines. “That’s gotta be the best laugh I’ve had this millennium.”

  “Thanks,” she said wryly. Not sure what he was finding so riotously funny. Didn’t he like his brother? Obviously Flynn had been deeply humiliated by the piece. “But I can’t take credit for it,” she added. “My editor wrote most of it.”

  “Well, your editor sounds like a pistol,” he said as he shook her hand.

  She stuffed her fingers back into her jacket, stupidly touched by his lack of judgment. And the fact he seemed genuinely amused.

  Even if she hadn’t, and Flynn hadn’t, and Logan hadn’t and the whole of Marietta hadn’t, at least someone had seen the funny side of that miserable column.

  The moment of levity died though, as her gaze connected with Flynn’s hard stare over Gabe’s broad shoulder.

  “Have you got any service on your cell, Gabe?” he asked.

  A flush of color washed across Gabe’s pale face. “Don’t have a cell phone. I umm… I lost it a while back. Why?”

  Flynn’s gaze stayed on hers. “Because Miz Donnelly needs to call a cab.”

  The dismissive statement hit her hard. She’d just told him he was going to be a father. She’d been prepared for anger, recriminations, even denial. The one thing she hadn’t been prepared for though, once the shock had worn off, was no answer at all.

  Did she deserve this too, she wondered?

  The sound of an engine approaching had her turning to see a truck appearing over the ridge.

  She swallowed hard when she recognized the Marietta Sheriff’s logo on the hood, and the man in the driving seat.

  Logan Tate did not look pleased to see her. His harsh expression reminded her of the threat he’d issues eight weeks ago, the last time she’d spoken to him and Charlie.

  “Don’t return to Marietta, Miz Donnelly, because you won’t be welcome.”

  Exactly how not welcome she was, was written all over his face as he braked and climbed out of the truck.

  “Hey Flynn, Gabe,” he said nodding toward the porch. But his gaze stayed locked on Evie’s face, which she was sure must be scarlet by now.

  “Miz Donnelly, you need to come with me now,” he said, with that caustic politeness he’d used on the phone two months ago.

  “I can’t,” she said, panic gripping her insides when Logan walked straight up to her and gripped her upper arm to haul her off the premises. “I came here to talk to Flynn and I’m not leaving until we’ve had a chance to discuss…”

  “You want to talk to her, Flynn?” he asked over her head as he marched her toward the sheriff’s truck without breaking stride.

  She glanced back, continuing to struggle against Logan Tate’s unbreakable hold, and pleaded silently with Flynn to stop his friend from dragging her away before they’d had a chance to talk about the baby. His gaze fixed on her face for what seemed like an eternity, but could only have been a heartbeat, as she willed him to intervene, to say something about what she’d come all this way to tell him. But as the silence stretched out the blank look seemed to envelop his whole body. Then he simply shook his head and, pushing past his brother who stood dumbfounded on the porch, strode into the cabin and slammed the door.

  The resistance went out of her—as she let go of the futile hope she hadn’t even realized she’d been clinging on to for the past eight weeks, the hope that he might to be able to forgive her—not just for the wrong she’d done him with the column, but also for her cowardice, in never having the guts to admit how she felt about him, even knowing he probably didn’t feel the same way… They might have had more, if she hadn’t been so gutless, but all that could ever connect them now was a collection of great booty calls—and the stray sperm that had found unexpectedly fertile ground in her uterus. And whose fault was that? All hers, if she were being entirely honest with herself.

  The black hole in the pit of her stomach imploded as she allowed herself to be escorted to Logan’s truck without putting up any more of an argument. Because what more was there to say?

  She didn’t even react when Gabe sent her a confused wave, her whole body somehow numb with shock at Flynn’s blank refusal to say anything at all, to even acknowledge what she’d come here to tell him.

  Despite everything she’d done to him, she’d believed he might be able to forgive her. What she had never allowed herself to examine, since finding out about the pregnancy, was whether she deserved his forgiveness.

  Logan fired up the truck and reversed into a three-point turn.

  “I don’t know why you came back here to harass Flynn after what you wrote in that damn newspaper column, but if you try coming out here again without his express invitation, I’m going to have you arrest
ed,” Logan said, his voice ripe with barely suppressed anger. He shifted into first and headed up the track toward the ridge. “I’m on shift, so I’m going to drop you at The Double T now and get Charlie to give you a ride to the airport. There’s a flight out of Bozeman in five hours and I want you on it. Are we clear on that, Miz Donnelly?” he said.

  She nodded, her throat too raw to speak, as she allowed herself one final glance back at the cabin as the truck crested the ridge. Gabe had followed his brother indoors.

  Her eyes blurred as she looked at the porch, the place where she and Flynn had once stood in the moonlight. And shared so much…

  But the porch, like the black pit in the middle of her stomach, remained empty.

  Chapter Eight

  “Hey, back up a damn minute. Did you just say you knocked up that pretty little newspaper lady?”

  Flynn felt heat hit his cheeks at his brother’s hard stare. “That’s what she says,” he said, trying really hard to convince himself Evie Donnelly had to be lying. Because his brain couldn’t seem to engage with the alternative—or the way it was making him feel.

  She’d blindsided him with the news that he was going to be a daddy, and for one brief second he’d had the weirdest sensation hit him square in the chest. Not anger, or panic, or even shock—no, that had come later—what had hit him was a weird feeling of pride and possessiveness, maybe even joy.

  Which made no damn sense at all. He’d always convinced himself he could never be a daddy. That he didn’t want to be a daddy. That like his own birth daddy he’d be bound to screw it up, because that’s what the Blackstone men did.

  But for that split second, the fact he hadn’t been able to forget Evie made sense.

  Then, in the very next sentence, she’d told him the baby didn’t have to be his—with that sad look in her eyes. And he’d felt the massive blow to his pride and self-respect, followed swiftly by the brutal shot of pain. And the same lingering sense of resentment and inadequacy that had been there ever since she’d gotten into the cab and rode out of The Double T without even giving him a proper goodbye.