Pregnant with the Soldier's Son. Amy Ruttan

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      Ingrid sighed. “Look, I could’ve gotten rid of the baby, but I wanted it. I still want it and I plan to raise the baby on my own. I don’t expect anything from you.”

      “Like hell.” Clint’s stance relaxed and his expression softened, the prominent frown lines disappearing. “I’ll help the best I can. I owe you that much.”

      “Well, thank you, Dr. Allen.”

      “Clint.”

      She sighed. “Clint, but you really don’t have to.”

      “I have to,” he said earnestly. “It’s the right thing to do.”

      “You’re under no obligation. I’m giving you an out.”

      “No.”

      Though he was an unnecessary complication in her already chaotic life, she was secretly relieved and a little deep-down voice said that maybe she wouldn’t have to do this alone.

       It’s the hormones. I don’t need him. I don’t need anyone.

      She wanted to push him away, it would be easier, but Ingrid knew he had every legal right to his child. There was no way she’d be able to deny him access and, honestly, she didn’t want that. She’d grown up in a broken home, her father refusing to answer any questions about her mother or even telling Ingrid how to find her.

       “She left us for another man, Ingrid. She doesn’t deserve you.”

      The tone, the hate in her father’s voice still sent shivers down her spine. She had grown up without a maternal figure in her life, but since her mother had never come back or tried to make contact, Ingrid was inclined to believe her father that she had been unwanted. Denying or not telling her baby who or where their father was wasn’t an option for Ingrid. This was not how she wanted to raise a family, ever.

      Of course she’d never wanted a family. There was no way she’d risk her heart, only to be abandoned later on.

      For most of her life, Ingrid had learned that life never ran smoothly and you had to swim to keep up.

      Fate had decided to throw her a curveball in the form of defective birth-control and a hot one-night stand, and she would accept the consequences and do the best she could by her child. If the child’s father wanted to be involved in the child’s life, she wasn’t going to deny him.

      “Thank you. I appreciate that. Most men wouldn’t.”

      Clint nodded. “I know they wouldn’t, but that’s not me.”

      “Well, I wouldn’t know that. We barely know each other.”

      He grinned, finally relaxing. “I know, but I thought about you often when I was overseas.”

      “I don’t know if that should flatter me or kind of freak me out.”

      Clint laughed. “Be flattered. You made an impression on me. I wanted to get to know you a bit better, but you left before I woke up.”

      Ingrid blushed. “I know. I’m sorry, but I was embarrassed. As I said, you were my first and I just couldn’t face you in the morning. When I found out I was pregnant, though, I was kicking myself for not trying to get any more information from you.”

      “I bet.” His pager buzzed and he glanced down at it. “Mr. McGowan is back from Radiology and the X-rays are ready. I’d better go.”

      “And I’d better check those films out so you can get him discharged.” She reached into the pocket of her lab coat and handed him her business card. “Here’s my info. Call me and we’ll figure some stuff out.”

      He didn’t look at the card, just stuffed it into his pocket. “I will.”

      “Sure.” Ingrid turned and walked away. By his reaction she really doubted he would get in touch with her. Why should he? It had been a one-night stand.

      He may have said that he wanted to help, but she didn’t know him. She didn’t trust him and she was pretty sure he didn’t trust her either.

      No promises had been made.

      And that was fine by her.

      Clint watched her walk down the hallway, her blond hair pulled back into a braided bun. From behind you couldn’t even tell she was pregnant. From the back she looked like that beautiful woman in the bar who’d seduced him on his last night before he’d been shipped overseas. One he’d thought about every night when he’d been imprisoned. That stolen moment in time had been what had helped him stay sane.

      He’d never, ever expected to see her again.

       She’s having my baby.

      Only was she? She’d lied about her name. Yeah, he may have been her first, but had he been her last? What if there had been another man after him?

       You saw her face when she saw you. The condom broke. It’s yours.

      Though he didn’t want to believe he was a father, something in his gut told him that the baby was his. Though he’d get a paternity test when the baby was born to make sure.

       You’re a jerk.

      He cursed under his breath. He used to be honorable, trusting. What the hell had happened to him?

      Clint leaned against the doorjamb as the thought began to sink in. He was going to be a father. It frightened him.

      How could he be a good father when he wasn’t even sure where his own life was headed at the moment? When he’d come back early from his tour of duty in the Afghanistan, he’d been honorably discharged with post-traumatic stress disorder. Once he’d stabilized after a couple of months, he’d taken this job at Rapid City Health Sciences Center as a trauma surgeon.

      At one time he’d loved medicine. Now not so much. Not after the horrors of war. But other than being a soldier there was nothing he was skilled at. Nothing he could do, and he needed the money if he wanted to make his dream come true, which was getting the old dilapidated cattle ranch he’d bought just before he’d left up and running again.

      He’d only planned on staying until it was paid off and he had enough money to get his quota of cattle ready.

      Now with this baby, that dream seemed impossible.

       I can’t be a father.

      If the paternity test proved he was indeed the father, he was going to do the right thing by Ingrid. He was going to help her out; at least financially he wasn’t going to leave her in the lurch.

      He’d never do that. He had been raised properly. Clint wasn’t sure about the rest, about being involved in the child’s life and about being close to Ingrid again.

      Emotionally he wasn’t there for that.

      He was numb inside.

      Dead.

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