Black Hills Baby

by Debra Salonen

  She swallowed. “No. The child we created the night we were together.”

  His blood suddenly rushed everywhere but to his head, where he needed it. Her words didn’t quite make sense. He looked at her waist. “You…you’re…pregnant?”

  She nodded.

  “We took precautions.”

  “Not every time, apparently.”

  His knees turned wobbly and he pulled out his chair to sit down. He knew some kind of response was expected, but emotions he never expected to feel overwhelmed him. Tears rushed to his eyes. His throat constricted. Something powerful and scary exploded in his chest. Not panic, as he would have thought, but joy. A laugh that probably sounded more like a cry burst from his lips. “We’re going to have a baby,” he shouted, jumping to his feet. “Oh, my God, I’m going to be a father.”

  Panic followed on the heels of that word, and he sat clumsily. “I don’t know how to be a father. I’ve never even played one. Playboy Lothario, yes? Talent show host? No problem. Daddy? No way.” He shook his head and looked at Libby. “You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”

  “I hadn’t made up my mind.” Honest, as usual. “Until last night. When I saw you at the meeting, I knew I didn’t have any choice.

  “In my mind, I’d made you out to be the bad guy, Coop. That way I didn’t have to shoulder all the blame. I don’t like to make mistakes. That doesn’t fit with who I am-–a people-pleasing good girl who never rocks the boat or asks herself what she really wants out of life.”

  He started to say she was being too hard on herself, but she stopped him. “I wrote that ad. It was an impulsive act probably brought on by sleep deprivation and worry-–not some imaginary clock sound ticking in my brain. My sister-in-law’s death shook us all. My grandmother’s health problems served as another reminder that we don’t have forever. I think I knew at some gut level that this was my last chance to live a life of my own choosing.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. Up till the day she died Mom was still emailing me my daily schedule.”

  She nodded. “If you keep busy enough, you don’t have time to worry about whether or not what you’re doing is making you happy.”

  “What will make you happy, Lib?”

  She didn’t answer right away. “I’ve given that a lot of thought over the past month. At first I thought feeding your body parts to a shark might be nice.” She grinned, then quickly added, “But then my breasts started to hurt and the smell of coffee made me queasy. I took a couple of home pregnancy tests and decided it was time to develop a Plan B.”

  “Which is?”

  “Still under debate. But…I’m open to suggestions. Yesterday, moving to Wyoming figured high on the list of possibilities.”

  He stood up and walked to her. “What’s in Wyoming?”

  “Devil’s Tower. Yellowstone. Cody. Cheyenne.”

  He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Brat. I meant why’d you pick Wyoming?”

  “It’s close enough to visit Gran and Mac and Megan regularly, but it’s not Sentinel Pass.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, knitting his fingers to rest on top of her butt. “Ah…another rat jumping ship before the marauders from Hollywood arrive. What if I told you I just bought a quarter interest in a gold mine and plan to live in Sentinel Pass six months out of the year?”

  “The Little Poke?”

  “Your brother and I worked out a deal while you were sleeping. I had this cashier’s check burning a hole in my pocket. I could have saved it for a college fund for our kid, but I didn’t know about our kid. Mac, either, huh?”

  “Only Kat and Jenna. Kat’s some sort of baby psychic, and Jenna’s nosy. I planned to tell Char tonight at book club.”

  He nuzzled her neck and jaw. “That means we have to work together to make sure Sentinel Pass Time is a big hit so we can tuck away a nice chunk of change--in case we want to give our daughter a brother or sister later.”

  She looked up. “We’re having a girl?”

  “God, I hope so. She can have my hair and your eyes.”

  “What’s wrong with my hair?”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “I love you, Libby McGannon. You rescued me from myself. And now you have to do the right thing and marry me.”

  Her long, deep sigh wasn’t exactly the answer he was hoping for. “I’ve done the right thing my entire life, Coop. I was kinda looking forward to being a rebel for a while. It was refreshing. For a few minutes, I like I was you. Thumbing my nose at society.”

  “If that’s important to you, we can take turns being outrageous-–until the baby comes. Then I’m going to do my best to set a good example. I don’t know how to be a dad, but I promise to try my hardest not to screw up.”

  His honesty was unmistakable, but he was wrong. “You know as much about parenting as I do, Coop. We’ll learn together. The hard way, I’m sure.”

  “Does that mean you’ve forgiven me?”

  “You told me you don’t hate your mother for gambling away your money. Despite everything, you still love her. But last night, at the meeting, the town that supposedly loved me-–helped raise me--had to be bribed into overlooking my mistake.”

  “They still love you, Lib. They just freaked out for a minute.”

  “Well, we’re not going to do that with our children, Cooper. Promise me. We’re going to love them no matter what they do…or don’t do.”

  He squeezed her so tight she let out a little yip. He let go and took her face in his hands. “I promise.”

  Then he kissed her, and Libby knew she was right where she was always meant to be-–home. In Cooper Lindstrom’s arms.

  * * *

  THE END

  * * *

  Are you ready for another look behind the scenes of Hollywood's most talked about new show? Check out Shane and Jenna's story in BLACK HILLS BILLIONAIRE.

  Money comes easy to some, love...? Not so much.

  Your Black Hills Rendezvous continues…

  BLACK HILLS BILLIONAIRE

  * * *

  Are you ready for another look behind the scenes of Hollywood's most talked about new show? Check out Shane and Jenna's story in BLACK HILLS BILLIONAIRE.

  Money comes easy to some. Love...? Not so much.

  Please enjoy the opening Prologue and Chapter 1 of BLACK HILLS BILLIONAIRE…

  Billionaire - Prologue

  Shane Reynard set the heavy obelisk of glass and pot metal made to resemble gold on the artisan table he'd picked up on a trip to Sweden. The table's clean simple lines pleased him--far more than the award he'd picked up a few hours earlier at one of the growing number of Hollywood red-carpet gala award spectacles.

  Best TV crime drama reflecting significant social themes...or some such drivel. Shane didn't give a crap about awards. But as the show's producer, he'd attended to play the PR game. He'd also used the venue to drop hints about his new project set in the Black Hills of South Dakota. Cooper Lindstrom's brainchild.

  "Brilliant fun."

  "Coop at his best."

  "Comedy, pathos, and romance--what's not to love?"

  Shane kicked the heavy, carved mahogany door closed and reset the alarm before heading to the ultra-modern steel and glass bar--a focal point in the home's living room created by some architect with his head up his butt, in Shane's opinion. He hadn't bought the place for its so-called "edgy" design. He'd paid the six million asking price for the view--and the sense of detachment the mountaintop perch provided.

  He made a drink--three ice cubes, his favorite vodka and a twist of lime. A simple drink, but, by far, the best of the evening.

  At the post-ceremony party--a shoulder-to-shoulder affair filled with Hollywood's glitterati, he'd nurse a bland martini while his date guzzled anything and everything someone put in her hands.

  "No wonder she ralphed all over the backseat of the limo," he muttered under his breath as he carried his cocktail to the wrap-around deck suspended above a steep drop-off that disappea
red into a black void.

  He set his glass on the wide, flat stainless steel railing to shrug out of his Armani tux jacket and tie. He unbuttoned his shirt to feel the warm southern California breeze on his skin. The kid who'd grown up in Minnesota winters never took the beautiful weather of his adopted state for granted.

  After a long, refreshing gulp, he rested his elbows on the railing and stared at the glittering mosaic of lights in the distance. LA. Muse. Loadstone. Refuge. Shane never planned on returning to the Mid-west. He had one very good reason to avoid his old stomping grounds--Adam. His brother. His twin.

  "Think Cain and Able on steroids." That was how he'd once described his and Adam's un-brotherly relationship to Cooper. "As long as we stay out of each other's worlds, there's a good chance we won't kill one another."

  Typical Coop, the location he picked out for his next sitcom? South Dakota. Minnesota's next-door neighbor. Too close for comfort, given Shane's and Adam's history.

  But an electronic boarding pass for a flight leaving LAX in the morning for Denver, with his final destination Rapid City, South Dakota, had appeared on Shane's phone moments before his acceptance speech. Somehow, he'd managed a few glib producer comments and the requisite staff acknowledgements without embarrassing himself.

  Afterwards at the party, he'd mingled, bull-shitted, fake-flirted and kept a faintly paternal eye on his date--a gorgeous young starlet with a seemingly hollow leg. Her subsequent "food poisoning" provided the perfect excuse to take her home.

  He'd already planned to cut the evening short so he could pack, but sex would have been nice. Work had kept him in monk-mode too much lately, and he didn't expect that to change once he got to the Black Hills. Unlike Cooper, Shane wasn't going to get lucky--or fall in love.

  Just the opposite, in fact. The only satisfaction Shane could hope to walk away with from this trip was appeasing a years-old guilt.

  "You've got to come and meet Libby," Cooper had begged. "And her book club friends are great, too. I think you'll like Jenna Murphy. You've always had a thing for redheads. Jenna's gorgeous and smart. And she's a writer, like you."

  Shane polished off the rest of his drink, then picked up his jacket and tie and walked inside.

  Jenna Murphy. A blast from the past. A name he'd tried to forget over the years...with very little luck. A face that still appeared in his dreams from time to time. His first infatuation. His deepest regret.

  "Temptation, thy name is Cooper Lindstrom."

  Billionaire - Chapter 1

  “Cooper wants to marry me, Jenna. Can you believe it?”

  Libby’s voice came across the phone line as close to tears and mystified. But Jenna didn’t doubt for a minute that Lib’s dreams were about to come true. Nobody deserved this shot at happiness more than Libby McGannon, Sentinel Pass Postmaster and Jenna’s best friend for more years than either cared to count.

  “Me,” Libby repeated, before Jenna could respond. “And he asked before I told him about the baby. I think. Wait. Maybe not… Oh, I don’t know. My mind is such a swirl of hormones and guilt and worry. But this feels right. Doesn’t it? I said yes, anyway. Oh, I’ve gotta run. He just went to Mac’s to formally ask for my hand –- isn’t that sweet? -- but I can see him coming back. Thanks for listening. I love you. ‘Bye.”

  Jenna Murphy slowly replaced the phone on its hook. The Murphy family’s was an old-fashioned model. Practically museum quality. Black, because black was cheaper. She was proud that her hand didn’t shake, not even a little. Surprises had never been her friend. Even good ones took time to become familiar, and thus…safe.

  “That was Libby,” she told her mother who’d probably been able to hear bits and pieces of Libby’s exuberant monologue from where she sat across the room. “Cooper proposed.” She swallowed the metallic taste in her mouth. “And Lib said yes.”

  “Oh, my,” Bess Murphy exclaimed, springing up from the kitchen table where mother and daughter had been eating breakfast. Granola and soy milk. Bess’s latest health fad. “I knew it. I knew he was in love with her. I could see it in his eyes last night at the town meeting. Even when he was talking about what was going to happen and how the town would benefit from the television production crew coming, he kept looking at Libby. Like a starving man in a 7-Eleven.”

  Jenna couldn’t help but smile at the metaphor. Cooper Lindstrom, TV star and talent show personality, didn’t strike her as the type to frequent quick-stop convenience stores. But Bess was renowned for saying the first thing that came into her head – often at her daughter’s expense.

  “Have they set a date?”

  “She didn’t mention one, but I imagine it’ll be soon,” she said, gathering up both empty bowls to put in the bottom rack of the dishwasher. If she left them for her mother to tend to, they might still be on the table when Jenna returned from work. The completion of household chores was dependent on the intensity of one or all of Bess’s ailments: arthritis, diabetes, gastro-intestinal troubles, migraines or any other unexplained medical symptom that might flare up, leaving Bess prone on the couch watching Lifetime or Turner Classic Movies – or, God forbid, Discovery Health -- for the entire day.

  Her mother was a hypochondriac, plain and simple. She’d always been overly wrapped up in everyday aches and pains, but since Jenna’s father’s death two years earlier, Bess had pretty much honed the art of fretting about her health to a doctorial level.

  Bess refilled her coffee mug and leaned casually against the dated olive green Formica countertop. “Why do you say that? They haven’t known each other long. And Libby was pretty upset with him when she found out Cooper had been playing her for a fool.”

  Jenna felt her cheeks heat up. She was one of the few people who knew that Libby was pregnant. She’d just assumed that Libby and Cooper would want to make their relationship official before the baby came, but that wasn’t always the case these days. “I don’t think Lib will hold that against him, Mom. I’ve known her a long time, and this is the first time I’ve ever seen her throw caution to the wind – relationship-wise. That says a lot, don’t you think?”

  Bess didn’t answer right away, but at least she seemed distracted from Jenna’s gaff. The break in conversation gave Jenna time to pack a small lunch. Apple. Cheese stick. Cookies – the not-so-healthy brand her mother refused to buy. At times, Jenna felt like a child living with her mommy. But most days she felt old. Very old. Caught in a one-sided generational squeeze caring for her ailing mother without the benefit of a husband and family of her own to balance things out.

  By choice, she reminded herself. She’d had a couple of chances to unknot the apron strings over the years, but the men she’d dated had been either too much or not enough like her father. Or, in Brian’s case, too much like her mother. She honestly had no expectations of ever finding Mr. Right for more reasons than she cared to list – the most verbal of them was looking deep in thought at the moment.

  “I’m not surprised Libby fell for Coop. He’s like a big, handsomely-groomed Golden Retriever. You just want to hug and pet him. But that friend he brought with him to the meeting wasn’t too shabby, either. At first, I thought he was purebred Doberman…because he was dressed all in black, I suppose, but when I looked closer I could see the depth in his eyes. So, I’m calling him Mr. Bernese Mountain Dog.”

  Jenna shook her head as she rolled the top of her brown paper sack in a neat crease and stapled it. “I’m sure he’d be thrilled to know you think of him as a big slobbery pooch.”

  “Not just any old dog, dear. My favorite breed. When I was a young girl, our neighbor had one. His name was Franz. His owner went all the way to Switzerland to buy him. Now, there are breeders around the country. I always wanted one, but Clarence claimed an animal that size would eat us out of house and home. He’d never budge – even when I played the Jenna card.”

  “The what?”

  “You know how much your dad doted on you. I told him every little girl should have a dog.” She pursed her li
ps and frowned in a way that made her look older than fifty-one. The frumpy cotton housecoat worn over faded pastel blue pajamas and open toe scuffs didn’t help. Jenna remembered a time when her mother looked glamorous and exotic – even before nine in the morning.

  She made a mental note to ask the doctor about clinical depression the next time she accompanied her mother to an appointment.

  “Clarence said if you wanted a dog that bad, you could buy one when you were paying the bills.”

  Jenna smiled. That sounded like her father. It also reminded her of a debate that Libby had mentioned between her brother, Mac, and his daughter, Megan. The widower had yet to give in, but Jenna knew it was only a matter of time. Despite his gruff outward demeanor, Mac was a big softy deep down. Jenna had had a crush on him, off and on, for years. He might actually be the only man she’d consider marrying; unfortunately, he’d never shown the slightest interest in her, except as his sister’s friend.

  With a sigh she’d meant to keep silent, Jenna stuffed the lunch sack into her backpack and looked around to see if she was forgetting anything. As usual, she’d laid out things the night before. She double-checked her list just to be sure.

  “I know I told you this, Mom, but it’s important so please don’t call me in an hour asking me to run to Rapid with you,” she said walking close enough to make eye contact. “The Health Department is supposed to send out an inspector today. He has to check the new pipes before we can cover up the open trenches. We can’t afford to lose another day; otherwise, I would have been filling in for Libby at the Post Office.”

  Her mother’s still pretty lips pursed expressively. “Who’d they get to fill in? Not the girl from Hill City, I hope. Last time she worked I wound up with Rufus Miller’s mail.” When she shook her head, a lock of silvery blond hair escaped from the knot she’d piled on top of her head. “Libby’s excellent, of course, but I miss the way things were when Mary was Postmaster.”