by Laura Wright
I’m tired.
And stressed.
And . . . Lord have mercy, she mused as she headed up the stairs . . .
Pregnant.
* * *
It was his nightly ritual now. Six o’clock, in the kitchen of the Triple C, at the table, eating the food that his mother had prepared. Did he want to do that? Let her feed him like she had when he was a boy? Shit . . . like he had up until a few months ago? Him and all the other ranch hands?
No.
But the alternatives were few and far between. He couldn’t go into the Bull’s Eye, and eating at the diner might mean running into her too. Emily Shiver. He felt like a real ass for how that all went down. And he was pretty sure she wouldn’t want to see him either.
Without a word, his mother sidled up to the table with her own plate and a glass of water. Instinctively Blue reached out and pulled her chair back for her, then grumbled to himself and went back to his meal.
“Thank you, son.”
He didn’t answer.
“You know,” she said, settling in and picking up her fork. “I’m fine eating in silence as we always do, but if you wanted to—”
“I don’t.”
“It’s just that,” she continued, “well, you could eat out. Or make something at the cottage.”
What was she driving at? “I know.”
She didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and Blue was glad as he continued eating. But then: “Maybe you come here because you want to see me? Talk to me? I wish you would talk to me.”
Ah, Christ. He looked up, said fiercely, “Mom, I don’t forgive you.”
A little gasp escaped her, but she continued with a nod. “Oh, I know that. But maybe someday . . .”
His fingers tightened around the fork. For weeks they’d eaten in silence. Sometimes she’d fill her plate and take it elsewhere. For Blue, sitting with his mother at dinner had been a way to be around her without anger filling him up. Without resentment and grief heating up his blood. Why did she have to break that silent agreement?
“Maybe someday you’ll let me explain,” she added. “Maybe you’ll let me tell you that sometimes you get into situations you can’t get out of. That you have to make the best of what’s in front of you.”
His appetite gone, he pushed his chair back.
“Blue, please. The day I found out I was having you was the best day of my life. And I wasn’t alone in that feeling. You need to know that Everett was—”
It was all he heard before he walked out of the room and out of the house.
Four
She loved hot showers. Blistering, if she could manage them. Until her skin turned pink and her limbs felt like a rag doll’s. But she’d read somewhere that hot showers weren’t good for a pregnant woman . . . Pregnant . . . Just the word brought on hyperventilation. She was having a baby. There was no question about that. It was just the how . . . and the where . . . and the with whom.
Tilting her face up to the rain shower of warm water, she closed her eyes and allowed the visions of Blue Perez Cavanaugh to take up residence. The problem with that was the last time she’d seen him he wasn’t wearing clothes. In fact, he was stretched out on the bed, tanned skin on white sheets—long, lean, heavily muscled body beneath her. Lord, he was the finest specimen of male that existed in the world. A real man. And those hands . . . large and callused, exploring her skin as he kissed her, as he worked inside her, as he lifted her up and down . . .
Her eyes popped open, her mouth too, on a gasp, and she took in a gulp of water. Coughing, spluttering, she forced her thoughts away from images that would only heat her body and screw with her mind.
Turning off the water, she stepped out of the shower and grabbed her robe. After moisturizing her skin with freesia body lotion, she wrapped her hair in a towel, left the bathroom, and padded into her room. She hadn’t gotten four steps when she saw Steven sitting at her desk, thumbing through a magazine.
“Damn, Em, leave a little hot water for the rest of us, would you?” He glanced up. “That comment about how I smell is still with me. I think Jeremy gave me a complex.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you ever knock?”
“I knocked.”
“And when I didn’t answer . . . ?”
“I came in.” He shrugged. “The way you were acting downstairs got me worried.”
She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “Nothing to worry about, little brother. I’m just tired.”
“And pissed.”
“Well, you guys were being jackasses.”
“Nothing new there.” When she didn’t return his smile, he sobered and nodded. “Yeah, we were. And I’m sorry about that.”
“Okay. I’ll forgive you for insinuating that I’m the female Paul Bunyan.” She flicked her hand in the direction of the door. “Now, off with you.”
But he didn’t move. Her joke didn’t appease him at all. “It wasn’t just that. The plate piling. Something’s up with you.”
As she was taking the towel off her head, her heart stuttered. “You can turn off the inquisition light, Detective.”
“I’m not a detective.”
“Well, you’d better get on that,” she said, drying her hair with the towel.
“Is it a guy thing?” he asked.
God . . . “No.”
“A girl thing?”
Her gaze found his and she grinned. “Maybe.”
“Come on, Emmie.”
“Don’t you have to be up early?”
“I’m not on until ten.”
“Then why don’t you head downstairs and watch Destroy Build Destroy with Mom?”
“She gets too competitive,” he said, turning to put the magazine he’d been perusing back on her desktop. But in the process, he nearly upended a vase of tea roses, while elbowing her purse and knocking the entire thing to the floor.
There was a thud, and Emily watched the contents scatter. Her eyes caught and held on the pregnancy test. She gasped, looked up. Steven’s gaze was on it too. Shit! Pushing away from the bed, she dove for it. On her hands and knees, she stuffed things back inside her purse. But he’d seen it. Fucking hell, he’d seen it.
It was quiet. Too quiet. Then . . .
“Emmie?”
Her eyes lifted to meet his. Brows lowered, lips thinned, he looked a hundred different things, from worried to angry to confused.
“Are you?” he uttered.
She could lie. But what was the point? He’d seen the test . . . and in a few months, he was going to see her and her growing stomach. She nodded.
“I’m going to kill whoever it is,” he ground out. “Who is it?”
She stood up and went over to her dresser. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not.”
“You’ll get fired.”
“Don’t care,” he returned easily.
She snorted. “Sure you do. You love that job.”
“Are you seeing someone?” he continued pestering. “And if you are, why wouldn’t you tell any of us?”
She wasn’t going there with him. As she grabbed a set of pajamas, she shook her head. “This is none of your business.”
“Are you kidding?” He came over to the dresser. “’Course it is. You’re my blood. I care about you.”
The truth was, she wanted to hear that, needed to hear it. She was going to need her family in the coming months. But right now . . .
“Does he know?”
And there it was. “Steven . . .”
A growl escaped his lips. “He knows, doesn’t he? Oh, hell and Christ.”
“Don’t start making stuff up in your head,” she warned him. “That never turns out well.”
He barely heard her. “And he ain’t standing by you, right?”
“No.”
“That’s why you’re not talking about it.”
“He doesn’t know, Steven, okay?” she said, facing him, clutching her pajamas to her chest like they were life preservers.
“No one knows except you and me.” Just the thought that her brother could actually walk down the stairs and spill the beans to their mother right that moment had her up in his face, index finger pointed. “And you’re going to keep it that way.”
He looked aghast. “You’re not going to tell Mom and Dad?”
She glanced over at the door. “Jeez. Keep it down. I’m not telling anyone right now. Not until I know what I’m going to do.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, his tone going rigid.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I just found out myself.” She backed away and headed for the bathroom. “I need some time to process.”
He didn’t say anything as she changed out of her robe and into her pj’s. When she came back out again, he was still by the dresser. He looked young, not like the fierce and formidable deputy she knew he could be.
“Well?” she said.
He unloaded a sigh as his eyes found hers. “Okay . . . I’ll keep your secret. But . . .”
Oh, he was so predictable. Her hands went to her hips. “What do you want?”
One dark brow drifted upward. “The guy’s name.”
Her heart leapt into her throat and she walked past him. “Get serious.”
“I’m not going to kill him, Em.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, picking up her purse and putting it back on the desktop.
“This baby deserves a father.”
“Why? So he won’t be a bastard?” she tossed back, quoting Jeremy’s word at dinner.
“Look, that was stupid and not cool. Jeremy knows it and so do I. He was acting the fool. Neither one of us really thinks that.”
She turned and leaned back against the desk. “The baby’s father is a good man, Steven.”
“A good man would be sitting here with you right now.”
“I told you he doesn’t know.”
“Name, Emmie.”
“I swear to God, if you—”
“I won’t tell Mom and Dad.”
“Swear it.”
He put his hand over his heart. “On the grave of Boggs.”
Emily stilled, her shoulders falling. It was their thing. Swearing on the grave of their beloved turtle from childhood. Silly, maybe. But she believed him.
She took a deep breath. “It’s . . . Blue. Cavanaugh.”
Steven’s mouth dropped open, and before he could say a word, Emily reminded him, “You promised.”
“Wait. I don’t get it. How?” He pulled back from the question instantaneously, shaking his head. “Forget I asked that. I know how. I don’t even want to think about it.”
She made a face. “Stop talking now. Listen, we’re not seeing each other. It was one night.”
“Oh, Em . . .”
“Don’t Oh, Em me, Steven Shiver. You’re no saint. I want your assurance that you won’t go after him. No punching or kicking, et cetera.”
“Fine,” he ground out, pushing away from the dresser. “I won’t kill or hurt him and I won’t tell Mom and Dad.”
“Or Jeremy,” she added.
“Or Jeremy,” he uttered.
Emily sighed with relief. Even though it was her little brother, it felt good to tell someone. Get it off her chest. Just while she took some time to figure things out.
They met at the door, and before she could say a word more, Steven gathered her up in his arms and hugged her tight.
“I love you, Emmie,” he said. “I’m here for you. We’re all here for you, and for this baby. You know that, right? With all the joking around and stupid talk, you know that?”
Tears pricked her eyes. Nothing was more precious to her than family. She sighed and just let him hold her. “I know.”
* * *
Weather was changing. From those slow, warm days that never seemed to end, to that strange coolness in the air that made a person think about starting school even when those times were long past. Blue had the window down on his truck, arm resting on the frame as he headed up the highway back toward River Black. He loved fall. Or had. Life changing on the ranch. Scenery and maybe new blood. He took a deep breath and blew it out. He’d just come from Hawthorne. Bought fifty head of Red Brangus. Before Natalie’s betrayal had completely turned his heart to stone, back when all he’d wanted was to take over the Triple C, it had been part of his plan to expand their brand. His brand, he’d thought. Become a seed-stock producer. Mac had loved the idea, and they’d looked into Brangus being their top choice. He’d forgotten all about it these past weeks, until Mac had asked him just that morning to go on a buying run.
He reached out, grasped at the cool air with his fingers. She was trying to get him fueled again. Get him passionate again. Even if it meant fighting her husband over the rights to his birthplace. Although with Deac, and maybe even with Cole, he’d never thought there would be much of a fight, as the two of them had new lives, new homes. Only one he’d been worried about was James. Granted, the man’s fiancée, Sheridan, still worked in the city for Deacon, but James had his horses at the C . . . and he liked hanging around. Whenever he and Sheridan were in town, they stayed in the foreman’s quarters.
But Blue’s passion, his need to fight, was gone. Most of it was due to all the lies that had surrounded him lately. He had no trust—for others, for his own judgment, for his capabilities. Hell, he couldn’t even convince people that Natalie Palmer had been responsible for Cass’s death.
Cass.
The one person he actually felt he could trust.
Blue spotted the River Black county line ahead and sped up. She was still there. In everything. As she should be. Blue had never known his half sister, but he missed her anyway. Maybe that was crazy or strange, but it was how it was. When he’d seen that diary, Cass’s writing, something had switched on inside him. A protective, brotherly thing he would’ve never believed he was capable of. It was why he’d jumped, called in the sheriff, pressed them to look into Natalie’s past.
His boot pressed low on the gas pedal. He often wondered . . . had Natalie known who he was from the beginning when they’d met online nearly a year ago? Had she sought him out? And if so, why? Had she been trying to get close to the family? He had so many questions, and yet he refused to get them answered. He never wanted to speak to that woman again. And anyway, whatever might come out of her mouth would no doubt be more lies. Sometimes when he was in town, he thought he saw her, thought he felt her—but it turned out to be just his imagination running on.
The sound of a siren behind him jarred him from his thoughts. First thing he did was let up on the gas pedal, then check his speed. Eighty-five in a seventy. Shit.
There was one moment, one tiny moment, when Blue thought about running. Slamming his boot into the metal and seeing how far he got. Where he got to. But he wasn’t running anymore. Or fighting anymore. He was accepting.
The flashing lights in his rearview mirror sent him to the shoulder and to a dusty stop. The sheriff’s vehicle followed, and in seconds the car was near kissing his bumper. Just write the ticket and let’s both be on our way.
The deputy who stepped out of the patrol car and made his way to Blue’s window wasn’t exactly a stranger. Steven Shiver hadn’t been the one to come out to Natalie’s place when Blue had found the diary, but he’d been on duty when Blue and Natalie had been brought into the station. And of course, Blue had met the man’s sister later that night.
His gut tightened as Shiver approached.
“Sorry about that, Officer,” he said to the dark-haired deputy in the brown hat and aviator sunglasses. “Here’s my license and registration.”
“Step out of the truck, please.”
The deputy’s tone put Blue on instant alert. Cold, professional, unyielding. “Why?”
Shiver opened the door. “Out of the truck, sir. Now.”
Sir? “I’m due a ticket. I get that. Come on, you know me, Shiver. Here’s my license.”
“Do I need to pull my weapon, sir?”
“Christ.
” The guy wasn’t kidding. Did he think there was something else going on? Irritation crept into Blue’s blood. For one brief second, he contemplated arguing. But a man didn’t argue with a cop in Texas. Not if he wanted to keep lead out of his ass.
He climbed out of the truck. But the second his feet hit dirt, Shiver whirled him around and slammed his hands together behind his back.
“You gonna tell me what this is about?” Blue ground out, his instinct to fight humming underneath his skin. “Because it sure doesn’t feel like a speeding violation.”
The officer answered by slapping cuffs on his wrists.
“Cuffs?” Blue growled. “This is a mistake.”
Shiver jerked him back, then led him toward the patrol car. “You better not call it that.”
“Call it what?” Blue demanded. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Again, no real answer was given. Instead, Blue was shoved into the backseat, the door slammed shut behind him. He sat there on the cool leather, pissed, confused, wondering if Shiver had gotten him mixed up with someone else. And then it hit him. She’d told her brother. “This is about Emily, isn’t it?”
Shiver’s face showed up in the rearview mirror. “So you remember my sister, then. Well, that’s something, I suppose.”
Blue’s face tightened. Along with the rest of him.
“You want to tell me anything, Perez?” Shiver taunted, flipping off the lights on top of the patrol car.
“Like how what you’re doing is illegal as hell?” Blue ground out.
“No, that’s not it.”
A muscle worked in Blue’s jaw. He didn’t know what Emily had told her brother, but he wasn’t going into that night. It was no one’s business but his and Emily’s. He inhaled sharply and turned to look out the window.
“Fine,” Shiver said. “We’ll see if you open up down at the station.”
Then he threw the car in gear and took off like a bat out of hell.
Five
Emily was going to kill her brother. Or at the very least hog-tie his ass! Was he kidding? A text? On her cell phone? At work? I have Perez down here at the station. I suggest you come by. Her heart had flipping jumped right out of her chest. Thank God it was a slow day at the Bull’s Eye and Dean had let her go. Or run. Or, as it were, drive straight to River Black’s tiny jail.