She showered and dressed for the day and then opened the door in the kitchen that led outside. There was a small porch and in the short distance was the garage.
The clean, fresh-scented air tickled her nose as birds sang their early-morning songs. Despite her circumstances a wave of optimism swept through her.
She hoped to hear from Larry Wright at the car dealership today. And she hoped the repairs were minimal and she could be on her way. Tomorrow was Sunday so if she didn’t hear about her car today then it would be Monday before she heard anything.
She didn’t want to be here any longer than necessary. The longer she stayed the more possibility that somebody would find her here.
Besides, if she stayed too long here in this cozy cabin she knew she would never want to leave. Right now she felt so safe here, but she had to go.
This wasn’t her place. She didn’t know where her place was right now, but it wasn’t here. It couldn’t be anywhere near Bitterroot.
While she ate breakfast she found herself wondering why Flint was leaving the Holiday Ranch. Did he intend to work on the ranch and live here? Or did he plan to quit working there? And if he was quitting the ranch, then what did he intend to do? Maybe buy some land where he could be his own boss on a ranch?
She couldn’t remember specifically what he had told her, not that it was any of her business. All she had to worry about was getting her car fixed and then picking a place to start over in a new life.
Wherever she ended up landing, she had to hit the ground running. It was imperative that she find a place to live and a job as soon as possible. The rent on her trailer was paid up through the next two months. She was hoping that within that time she’d get an opportunity to rent a truck and move her furniture and other items to her new place.
She read a little and then by around two o’clock she wandered the cabin restlessly. Since it was Saturday she wondered if Flint might come earlier than he had yesterday.
She hoped so. She liked talking to him. She also liked looking at his handsome, tanned and slightly weathered face. He carried with him the scent of the outdoors, of sunshine and wind along with a hint of a fresh-scented cologne.
Part of the reason she liked talking to him was that when she was engaged in conversation she had no time to think about what had happened or how messed up her life had become.
The silence pressed in around her as the minutes and then hours ticked by. She made herself dinner and then at a few minutes after five, she heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. She looked out the window to make sure it was him, and then she flung open the door and stepped out onto the half-finished porch deck.
“Hi, cowboy,” she said when he got out of his truck.
A slow grin curved his lips. “Well, hello to you.”
“Did you have a good day?” she asked as he pulled his red toolbox out of the bed of his pickup.
“I had a fine day. What about you?” He bent over and set the toolbox next to where he would be working to lay the rest of the deck. When he straightened to look at her, she thought she heard a soft groan escape his lips. He cleared his throat and his smile widened. “You look well rested.”
“Having a bed to sleep in is way better than a hay-covered floor in a hot barn. Would you like me to make you a cup of coffee?”
“That sounds good, but you know you don’t have to wait on me, Maddy.”
“It’s just a cup of coffee, Flint, not a five-course meal,” she teased.
“I wouldn’t like a five-course meal...it takes too long to get to the meat and potatoes.”
She laughed. “I’ll be right back with the coffee.”
When she returned outside with the hot drink she was pleased to see that he had set up the lawn chair for her. He took the cup from her and her heart fluttered just a little bit when their fingers touched. Jeez, what was wrong with her?
She sat in the chair and watched him take a sip of the coffee. “I was hoping to hear something about my car today, but I didn’t.”
“When I spoke to Larry he told me he had a few cars ahead of yours. I’m sure they’ll get to it sometime on Monday.” He took another drink of the coffee and then set the cup down in the grass.
“I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness for too long,” she replied.
Once again that slow smile curved his lips. “Does it look like you’re bothering me?”
“No.” Why did his smile shoot a burst of warmth through her? She had assumed after what had happened to her she’d never feel that kind of way about a man again. “Still, as soon as my car is ready I promise I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Whenever.” He carried several boards next to the deck and began to lay them in place. “Is Maddy your given name?” he asked.
“My given name is Madison,” she replied.
“Madison. That’s pretty. Why don’t you use it instead of Maddy?”
Madison...she liked the way her name sounded falling from his lips. Nobody ever called her that, but she’d always thought of herself as Madison. “I don’t know. My father always called me Maddy and so that’s how everyone knew me.”
“If you don’t mind then I’d like to call you Madison.”
She smiled and another sweet warmth blossomed inside her. “I would like that.”
She watched as he began to hammer down the boards. She hadn’t been outside more than ten minutes when the nausea began. Oh no, not again. She tried to ignore it. Then she tried to breathe through it, but neither of those techniques helped.
She jumped up and ran into the house and made it to the bathroom just in time to throw up. She threw up two more times and then the nausea slowly passed. She waited a couple of minutes to see if it would return, but it didn’t. Once again she rinsed her mouth and then brushed her teeth.
When she opened the bathroom door Flint stood on the other side. Concern darkened his eyes and a grim determination tightened his features.
“Madison, you need to see a doctor,” he said. “It’s obvious something is wrong with you.”
“I’m fine,” she replied. She pushed past him and into the living room area.
“You aren’t fine,” he replied firmly. “You’re sick and you need to see a doctor,” he repeated.
“Really, it’s okay, Flint. I’m okay.” She definitely didn’t want to be having this conversation.
“If you don’t want to see a doctor in town then maybe I can get Dr. Washington to come out here to see you.”
“Please, just leave it alone, Flint.” Desperation filled her. She turned and started to walk away from him.
“I can’t leave it alone,” he replied. “Madison, you’ve thrown up two evenings in a row. Something is obviously wrong and right now you’re under my care.”
She whirled around to face him once again. “I’m not sick... I’m... I’m pregnant.” The minute the words left her lips she crumbled onto the sofa and began to cry.
Chapter 3
“Pregnant?” Flint stared at her in stunned surprise. That was the last thing he expected to hear. “Don’t cry,” he told her, hating the tears that slid down her cheeks as tiny sobs escaped her.
“Madison, please don’t cry.” Hell, he didn’t know what to do with a crying woman...a pregnant crying woman at that.
“I... I...can’t help it. I di...didn’t want anyone to know,” she replied.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and jostled with his keys as he approached the sofa. “What can I do to make you stop crying? If I sing for you, will you stop? I’ll warn you I have a terrible singing voice. Mac always says when I was born the doctors should have twisted my vocal chords together to see if they could get anything better than croaks like a frog.”
A small laugh escaped her. It was exactly what he’d hoped to accomplish. He sank down next to her on the sofa as she stopped sobbing and i
nstead began to wipe the tears off her cheeks.
“I won’t tell anyone, Madison. Your secret is safe with me. I swear I won’t tell anybody.” He hesitated a moment and then continued, “So who is the father? Can’t he help you out with whatever is going on?”
She dropped her hands to her lap. “There is no father.” She didn’t meet his gaze.
“Madison, there has to be a father,” Flint said gently.
“Not in this case.” Her gaze returned to his and her chin lifted with a hint of defiance.
“So it was one of those immaculate conceptions,” he replied. “I have to say, it’s been a while since one of those happened.”
Her cheeks flushed with a hot-pink color. “Okay, so there was a sperm donor, but he will never be a part of my life and he definitely will never be in this baby’s life.” Tears once again filled her eyes.
“Is this why you want to leave town?”
“It’s one of the reasons, but I have other reasons, too.”
He could tell by the look in her eyes that she wasn’t going to share any of those with him. “Madison, don’t you need to see a doctor? You’re getting sick every evening.”
“It’s morning sickness, Flint, only I have it in the evenings. It should be passing soon.”
He eyed her with concern. “I thought morning sickness only happened in the mornings.” Her wildflower scent threatened to distract him, but the conversation was far too important for any distraction.
“Morning sickness can happen anytime in the day.”
“Did a doctor tell you that?”
Her cheeks grew pink once again and her gaze skittered away from his. “I haven’t seen a doctor.”
“Then how do you know what you’re talking about?” He didn’t want to pry. He just wanted to make sure she was really okay.
“I went to the library and researched everything I could find on the subject.” Her gaze sought his again. “I’m fine, Flint. I promise you, there’s nothing for you to worry about. Besides, it’s not your job to worry about me.”
“Shouldn’t you see a doctor?” he asked again. She could tell him to not worry about her, but he couldn’t help it.
“Not in this town. I’ll see one as soon as I get settled wherever I’m going. Now, I’m sure you’re eager to get back to your work on the porch before the sun goes down.”
It was a dismissal. Reluctantly, he rose. “You’ll let me know if you need something special from the grocery store or the drugstore?”
She smiled at him. It was one of those sunshine smiles he remembered seeing on her face months ago. “You’re a very nice man, Flint McCay.”
A touch of warmth filled his face. “Thanks. I’ll just be outside if you need anything.”
Pregnant.
He walked around the cabin to the garage to retrieve his ladder, and his brain tried to work through the shock her secret had given him.
She must have been dating somebody to get in the condition she was in. Maybe when she told the man she was dating that she was pregnant, he’d reacted badly. No, that didn’t seem right because she didn’t want anyone to know about the pregnancy and that implied she hadn’t told the father-to-be.
As he began work on the porch roof, his mind continued to go through different scenarios. Maybe she and her lover just had a big fight and Madison decided on a whim to pack up and leave. Was that really what this was all about? A lover’s spat that had spun out of control? But even that didn’t feel right, not when he remembered the terror in her eyes.
Still, Flint believed the father had a right to know about the baby. He would never want a woman he dated to get pregnant and not tell him about the baby. Fathers had rights, too. He frowned. But if the man was abusive then all bets were off.
Maybe by the time her car was fixed she’d change her mind about leaving town. She’d reconcile with her boyfriend and they’d raise their baby together.
Flint had never known his own father. His mother hadn’t even known who his father was. He’d always wondered how his horrible childhood would have been better if his father had been in his life.
He reminded himself that Madison and her choices weren’t any of his business. Still, he hated to think of her pregnant and all alone in a strange, new place. Maybe he could talk her into going back to her trailer and staying here in Bitterroot. Surely she had friends in town who would help her. Heck, she could consider him a new friend who would do whatever he could to help her out.
He worked until the sun gave its last gasp and then he put his tools and ladder away and walked to the front door. He knocked and she answered.
“Coffee?” she asked. Her eyes seemed to simmer with a kind of faint desperation.
“Sure,” he replied. Like the night before he washed up in the sink and took a seat at the table while she made his cup of coffee.
“Are you feeling better now?” he asked as she put the coffee before him and then sat across from him.
“Much better. The nausea only lasts a few minutes and once it’s gone, it’s gone for the rest of the night.”
He took a sip of the hot drink and tried not to notice how pretty she looked. She wore a blue T-shirt that made her eyes appear even bluer. A pair of jeans hugged her still-slender body.
She was definitely easy on the eyes, not that it mattered to him. It also didn’t matter that whenever he was near her his body subtly warmed. He wasn’t looking for a woman in his life, but her current situation definitely concerned him. He wanted to somehow help her, but he wasn’t sure how, especially if she wasn’t going to share with him what was really going on.
At the moment he felt the same awkwardness he always felt when in the company of an attractive woman. He took another sip of his coffee and then stared down at the cup, trying to think of some way to get a little more information from her concerning the baby’s father.
“So tell me something about yourself, Flint,” she asked. “I know you were one of Cass Holiday’s lost boys, but tell me how you got lost.”
Everyone in town knew the story of the “lost boys” at Cass’s ranch. When Cass Holiday’s husband had died all her ranch help had walked out on her, believing she wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t smart enough, to run the big spread.
With the help of a social worker in Oklahoma City, Cass had staffed her ranch with young runaway boys who, for one reason or another, had vowed they would or could never go home again. Flint had been one of those boys.
“Or maybe you don’t want to talk about that,” she added hurriedly. “I don’t want to pry.”
“No, I don’t mind.” Maybe if he shared a little bit about his past life, it would help her trust him enough to tell him more about hers.
He drew a deep breath and once again looked down in his coffee cup as he accessed old, bad memories. He rarely thought of his childhood. He’d always considered that his life had really begun on the day he’d arrived at the Holiday Ranch.
“I don’t remember a time when my mother wasn’t a drug addict. What I do remember is back-alley dope deals, scary men in and out of our lives, and always moving from one dump to the next.”
He was deep in his memories now. “Initially she must have been doing meth. She’d be up for days and flying high. One time when I told her I was hungry, she swooped me up and danced me around the room and told me we didn’t need to eat. We could just live on peace and happiness. Of course little boys just sometimes need real food.”
“Oh, Flint, I’m so sorry.” He looked up into her warm, sympathetic gaze. “Was that what made you decide to run away?”
“No, it wasn’t that. I was too young then to even think about running away. It was when she exchanged meth for heroin that things took a really bad turn.”
He looked past her shoulder and continued, “I’d find her nodded out on the bathroom floor, or in her car with a needle still stuck
in her arm. I begged her to stop. I begged her to get help, but she told me she loved the stuff and she was never going to stop. I tried to take care of her when she was dope sick. I’d clean up her vomit and I’d wipe her down when she was sweating and coming out of her own skin. I prayed every day that she wouldn’t die.”
He’d suppressed these memories for so long and now they unfurled in his brain like distant nightmares. As a child he’d been half-starved and rarely clean. His mother had used him to gain people’s sympathy and cash when they panhandled. He’d never, ever felt loved by her.
He looked back at Madison. “I loved my mother, but I learned pretty early on that she couldn’t love me back. But I knew I was watching her die. Finally, when I was thirteen I realized I couldn’t do anything to help her and I wasn’t going to stay around there and watch her die, so I left.”
It was the most words he had used at any one time and he was surprised by the emotion that filled his chest. Grief battled with guilt, a guilt that he had chosen to save himself instead of sticking by his mother’s side.
But there had been days and days of homelessness. When they did have a roof over their heads, it was usually a drug house where other addicts came to use. He’d seen his mother beaten and abused, and the taste of fear never left his mouth.
Madison’s touch to the back of his hand brought him back from that frightening place. “Sorry, that was probably way more information than you wanted,” he said ruefully. In fact, he’d just told her things that he’d never shared with anyone else.
“I’m just sorry you had to go through that.” She drew her hand back from his and instantly he felt a strange bereavement. He’d liked her touch. For just a brief moment he’d felt an odd connection to her.
“So what’s your story?” he asked.
She changed positions on the chair. “While my childhood wasn’t as horrifying as yours, we share a lot in common. My mother died from breast cancer when I was eight and my father was a raging alcoholic. What he wanted when my mother was gone, was to leave Bitterroot and start a single life someplace else, but unfortunately I was the albatross around his neck and he never, ever let me forget that he was stuck in Bitterroot because of me.”
Cowboy's Vow to Protect Page 4