Having The Rancher's Baby. Cathy McDavid

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      A thought suddenly occurred to him. Vi might be expecting him to propose. Should he, or would that be rushing headlong into disaster?

      “Can we wait a little while before deciding on the specifics?”

      “Actually,” she said, “I agree with you. Another month at least. But not for the reason you think.” She paused. “I was married before. A long time ago.”

      “No fooling!”

      “Is that so hard to believe?”

      “No. Heck, no,” he added for emphasis. “You just never said anything.” Neither had Gabe or Raquel, not that Cole had inquired. “Were you married long?”

      “Three years.”

      “You must have been young.” She was only twenty-eight now. Three years of marriage plus “a long time ago” equaled early twenties by his calculations.

      “I was. Young and idealistic and convinced we’d be happy the rest of our lives.”

      “What happened?”

      Cole discovered he was interested. Very interested. While they’d lain wrapped in each other’s arms, she’d told him about her first crush and having her heart broken in high school. Not one single peep about a husband. Ex-husband, he amended.

      “Denny was a real sweetheart,” she said. “Our breakup wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t mine, either. We simply weren’t equipped to deal with the...problems we faced.” Her voice cracked. “Some people never are, regardless of their age or how much they love each other.”

      Cole was tempted to take her hand again or run his fingertips along the curve of her cheek. He didn’t, not sure she’d welcome the gesture.

      “I got pregnant and lost the baby. Then it happened twice more.” She sniffled. “Denny tried his best to give me what I needed. Love. Support. Encouragement. But it just wasn’t enough—my grief overwhelmed us both. When I finally recovered, it was too late for us. I’d lost him, too.”

      “That must have been tough.” Cole hoped Vi saw past his lame response and realized how sorry he felt for her and her then-young husband. “No one should have to go through that.”

      “I’m afraid of miscarrying again.” Her teary gaze met his. “Very afraid.”

      Oh, the hell with it, he thought, and reached for her hand. “Who wouldn’t be, in your shoes?”

      She didn’t pull away and, instead, squeezed his fingers. “I’m also afraid of losing what’s important to me again. That was the hardest part.”

      Was she talking about him and their fledgling relationship? Apparently not, for she straightened and gently withdrew her hand from his.

      “I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. I should know more then.”

      “What time?”

      “After lunch. Why?”

      “Let me drive you.”

      Her eyes widened. “There’s no need.”

      “I’m the baby’s father.”

      “And you didn’t bargain on that. I should have told you I wasn’t using birth control.”

      “I shouldn’t have assumed and taken precautions.”

      “Cole.”

      “Vi, let me go with you.”

      “Because it’s the responsible thing to do?”

      “Because I want to.”

      “People are going to ask questions or make assumptions. Especially Raquel. I’m not ready for that.”

      “We’ll come up with a cover story. Stick with the stomach flu and say you’re too dizzy to drive yourself.”

      After a moment, she relented. “Okay, you win.”

      “This isn’t a contest.”

      “Sorry. I’m still getting used to this, too.”

      He smiled. “That offer to follow you home still holds.”

      “I’m better now,” she insisted. “Why don’t you return those steers to the pasture?”

      He decided to follow her, anyway.

      They left the ranch house by the kitchen door and walked to the horse stables, where Vi had parked her truck.

      Before they parted, he said, “Call or text me later to let me know you’re okay. Humor me,” he added, when she started to object.

      True, Cole was still grappling with impending fatherhood, but he had no doubts of his fondness for Vi or his concern for her well-being. He’d also bet money she harbored a similar fondness for him.

      With luck, it might be enough to get them through the coming months, or possibly years.

      * * *

      VIOLET PASSED THE clipboard holding her completed medical forms over the counter to the receptionist, along with the pen she’d used.

      “Do you have your insurance card?” the woman asked, more efficient than pleasant. She accepted the card Violet gave her and made a copy before returning it.

      “You have a thirty-dollar co-pay,” the receptionist informed her. Once the transaction was complete, she said, “Go ahead and take a seat. We’ll call you when we’re ready.”

      Violet didn’t ask how long that might be. She’d been seeing Dr. Medina for eight years, long before her first pregnancy. In all that time, nothing in the office had changed. Not the neutral decor, not the generic furniture and definitely not the long wait times. Even the vase of silk flowers on the reception counter was the same.

      On second thought, there was one big difference, and he sat in the corner, cowboy hat balanced on his lap. Every few seconds, one of the other two noticeably pregnant patients cast him a glance. An admiring one.

      Understandable, Violet supposed. Cole had cleaned up for the appointment, donning what appeared to be a fairly new Western-cut shirt and his best jeans. He looked...handsome. She could admit that. Much the same as he’d looked that night in the Poco Dinero Bar when he’d sauntered over and joined her at the table she shared with her friends, the local grain supply rep and his wife.

      Heaving a sigh, Vi plunked down in the chair beside Cole and propped her purse in front of her. If she was hoping to use it as a shield, she’d need something a lot bigger. A thick panel, maybe. Or simply distance.

      She could quite literally feel him. Violet wasn’t a romantic and, thanks to her parents’ three-decades-long miserable marriage, she didn’t subscribe to the theory of soul mates. But there was something about Cole that caused her to be acutely aware whenever he was in the same room. The sensation intensified when СКАЧАТЬ