The Cowboy's Promise

by Teresa Southwick

  Erica and Morgan were the last to get off, and he helped her down, as carefully as if she were a piece of delicate crystal. His protective attitude hadn’t changed, but something else had. She could feel it.

  They walked around some more, got something to eat. She chatted about the weather and any other shallow subject that came to mind. He responded in monosyllables. But they carefully avoided discussing the elephant in the room, so to speak.

  After seeing all there was to see, they walked back to his truck, and Erica felt an air of tension between them, most of it coming from Morgan. Her teasing friend had disappeared and left a quiet, preoccupied man in his place. She wanted the other guy back, but that would require a conversation. Something told her he wasn’t going to raise the subject, so it was up to her.

  After he merged the truck into the line of cars exiting the fairgrounds, he turned onto the road leading back to the Ambling A. It was now or never.

  “So—” She took a deep breath. “That was awkward. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “The kiss?” He gave her a quick glance, then returned his gaze to the road. “Or the woman who assumed I’m the father of your baby?”

  She’d been sort of hoping he would grin and say there was nothing to discuss. But she’d given him an opening and he made it bigger. Only a coward would slam it shut now. He’d given her two choices and she picked the latter.

  “Does it bother you that people might think you’re the baby’s father?” She folded her hands in her lap and squeezed them tight.

  “If I cared what people thought, I wouldn’t have gone to childbirth class with you. People will think what they think. It’s a logical conclusion and I don’t blame them.”

  She waited for a “but.” It didn’t come, and yet his response hadn’t relieved the tension. “Who do you blame?”

  Instead of answering he asked, “Why isn’t the baby’s father going with you to the class? Where is he? Shouldn’t he be involved?”

  In a perfect world, yes, she thought. But this was so far from perfect. She’d decided on a course of action to get what she wanted and would never be sorry for that. No one was going to make her feel like she wasn’t enough or that she’d done something she should be ashamed of.

  “No,” she said. “He shouldn’t be involved. I don’t need him to be.”

  “That’s a bunch of BS.” In the lights from the dash his expression was harsh. “A man takes care of his own if he’s any kind of a man.”

  The words were confirmation that for Morgan being a father was a duty. An obligation. Cleaning up a mess he’d made. And the realization hurt her heart more than it should have.

  “Look, Morgan, it’s all right if you don’t want to be my coach. I understand if it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.” He didn’t raise his voice, which made the words all the more electric. “I said I’d be there and I will. I want to be. I’d just like to know who the father of this baby is. A deadbeat or a jerk?”

  For reasons she didn’t understand, that made her dig in and pull stubborn around her like a blanket. “That information is on a need-to-know basis, and no one needs to know.”

  “That kiss says otherwise.” Morgan’s tone said he had his own brand of stubborn going on.

  “I don’t think so. Blame it on ghosts and orbs and spirit energy. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.”

  “You’re the one who asked if I wanted to talk about it.” He turned onto the road leading to the main house on the ranch. “But the truth is you don’t want to.”

  “I guess not.”

  He pulled to a stop at the front door and turned off the engine. “Erica—”

  “I had a good time,” she said. “Thanks. Good night.”

  Before he could say more, she got out of the truck and walked inside the house. She leaned her back against the door and held her tears in check. Why was he pushing this? What did it matter? She had walked through fire to have this baby, and he wasn’t sure he wanted kids. That was a deal breaker. She had no business even letting it cross her mind that she liked him very much and even less business wishing this thing with them could be more.

  It was too bad, really, because she had a feeling they could be good together, that he would be an exceptional husband and father. But he got burned and almost married a woman having another man’s baby. Erica’s baby would always be another man’s. All of that took him out of the need-to-know column about how this baby was conceived.

  She didn’t think he would take it well and didn’t want to find out she was right.

  Erica pulled herself together but didn’t feel up to putting on a perky face for anyone who might be awake. Still, while living under her parents’ roof, she owed them the courtesy of letting them know she was home.

  She walked into the great room and found her mother there alone, reading.

  “Hi, Mama. I just wanted to let you know I’m home.”

  Her mother looked up from the book. “Thank you, sweetie.”

  “Is Daddy in bed?”

  “Yes. He was tired.” She took off her reading glasses. “How was the Harvest Festival this year?”

  “That implies I can compare it to last year, but the truth is that I haven’t been there in so long I can’t compare it to anything recent.”

  Her mother closed the book, put it on the table beside her and set her glasses on top of it. “Let me rephrase. Did you have a good time?”

  “Yes.” Right up until that stranger mistook Morgan for her husband and the father of her baby.

  “Did you see anyone there?”

  “Of course. The place was packed.” But that’s not what her mom was asking. All she’d told her folks was her destination. Not the details. Especially that she’d asked Morgan to go. What a brazen hussy, a pregnant brazen hussy. Still, it was one thing to politely follow house rules, quite another to let anyone dictate who she could and couldn’t see at thirty years old.

  “I went with Morgan Dalton. He picked me up.” She glanced down at the stuffed animals in her arms. “He won these playing the ring toss. One for me and one for the baby.”

  “So, he has skills—”

  “Please don’t start, Mama.”

  “That was a joke.”

  “I’m sorry.” She sighed and walked over to sit on the sofa beside her mother, setting the stuffed animals between them. “I guess pregnancy hormones are making me supersensitive.”

  “I remember. That part is a bitch,” her mother said ruefully.

  “Language, Mama.” She smiled. “But body chemistry does seem to have turned me into one.”

  Her mother picked up one of the bears and touched the plastic eyes. “These will have to come off. The baby could swallow them.”

  Erica had already thought of that. Since the pregnancy had been confirmed, she’d been reading everything she could find on child care.

  “I’ll take care of it,” she assured her mother.

  “I’m sure you will.” Angela put the bear on her lap. “How is everything? Have you heard from the lawyer? Your father said she was going to file suit against Barron Enterprises.”

  “Yes, she did, but she warned me they can delay the process practically indefinitely and force me to give up.”

  “But you’re made of sterner stuff,” her mother said emphatically.

  “To a point. But I need a revenue source because the money I have won’t last indefinitely.” She set the bear down. “I really need a job.”

  “How’s the search going?”

  “Nothing so far. I’ve had some interviews but...” She shrugged. “No one will say it straight out that they don’t want to hire me because I’m pregnant. That would be discrimination. But... It’s discouraging. I feel as if I’m stuck until after the baby is born. And it’s a catch 22. I want to sett
le in a place of my own for the baby. But I don’t feel comfortable doing that until I have cash flow again. I’m sorry that I’m putting you and Daddy out.”

  “Are you kidding?” Her mother glanced around the large room. “This place is huge. And we love you. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.” She caught the corner of her lip between her teeth. “But I can’t help thinking—”

  “What?” Apparently sensitivity hormones were just waiting to pounce, because they kicked up again. “If only I had a husband?”

  “No, sweetie. I wasn’t going to say that. If only someone could see past the pregnancy. Someone who knows how smart and determined you are. You’d be an asset anywhere you worked if they could see their way clear to give you an opportunity. Those bozos are thinking short-term and that’s their loss.”

  “Thanks, Mama.” The words were encouraging and made her want to explain why she was in this situation. “I’d hoped to find a husband. That perfect someone. Get married, then have a baby right away before my eggs get old and dry up like raisins.” She shook her head. “It just never happened. You were lucky with Daddy.”

  “I know it. He’s a keeper.”

  Erica thought she’d found that with Peter, until she mentioned having children and they broke up. The thing was, there’d been no hole in her life when he was gone. In a lot of ways it had been a relief. She’d put in so much energy, and maybe that was just about trying to make it work because her biological clock was ticking.

  Shouldn’t caring about someone be effortless? The feelings just there? Like with Morgan. The thought popped into her mind and stuck. She wondered if they might have had a chance if it wasn’t for the baby. But there was still the question of having kids at all. If she fell for him, it would land her in the same boat as she’d been with Peter.

  “I need you to know something, Mama.”

  “What, sweetie?”

  “Do you remember how much I loved my dolls when I was a little girl?”

  “Of course.” She smiled and looked as if she was pulling up those long-ago memories. “Your daddy built you that dollhouse and little furniture for your babies.”

  “Is it still in that storage shed in the barn?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “Good.” She pressed her palms to her belly. “I’ll want to get it out if this baby is a girl.”

  “Absolutely.” There was a soft expression in her mother’s eyes. “I know there are all kinds of urban myths about how to tell the sex of a baby, and you’ll think I’m being silly, but—”

  “I’d never think that.”

  “You’re carrying this baby a lot like I did you. With Gabe I was all out front. Daddy teased that it looked like I had a basketball under my shirt. From the back you couldn’t tell I was pregnant.”

  Erica laughed. “And with me?”

  “I seemed to spread out.”

  “Pretty soon I’ll need a warning sign that says Wide Load.”

  “Hardly. You look healthy and beautiful.”

  “You’re just prejudiced, Mama.”

  “Of course I am. You’re my baby. I love being your mother. And I wanted more babies.” Something flashed in her eyes. Something distant, sad and painful.

  “I remember how much you did. And the miscarriages.”

  Angela linked her fingers around the teddy bear she still held and pressed it close to her body. “I had you and Gabe two years apart and it was hard, emotionally and physically. When you were a little older, a bit more independent, I realized I wanted more children.”

  “I’ve never forgotten the heartbreak you went through trying to have another baby,” Erica said. “And now I understand, because I feel the same way. How you’d move heaven and earth just to feel that sweet warm body in your arms. And because of what happened, you should appreciate better than anyone why my life would not feel complete without a child. And why it’s so important for me to do it now. Because I’m the same age you were when—”

  “I get it.” Still, there was a question in her mother’s eyes although she didn’t say more.

  “I promised myself that if I was fortunate enough to get pregnant, I was having the baby. No matter what. Because later could be too late.”

  Angela sighed and nodded, but didn’t say more or ask any questions. Talking about that painful time was hard for her, but opening up even just a little made Erica feel closer to her mother than she had in a very long time. The mother-daughter bond had suffered in the past twelve years. She took responsibility for that, and tonight was another small step toward fixing it.

  She could feel how much her mom wanted her to talk about the baby’s father, but now even more than before she was afraid to go there. If she confessed that she’d gone to a sperm bank, it could set their fragile bond back, even make it irreparable. And she couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t do that.

  Neither of them broke the silence. But her mother still held that bear.

  Finally she smiled. “So, you had a good time with Morgan?”

  “Yes. He’s fun.”

  “I’m glad. You’ve had a lot to deal with lately, and there’s nothing wrong with having some fun.” She glanced up. “And it’s important that you’re comfortable with the person who’s going to coach you through labor.”

  The truth was she did feel comfortable with him, and he was the only one she felt that way about since coming back. She wasn’t sure why she’d refused to explain to him how the baby was conceived. Maybe it was because she hadn’t been ready for the question. Or she was afraid of how he would react. That’s what happened when your feelings became more than they should be.

  Whatever the reason, she needed to tell him the truth. As soon as possible.

  Chapter Nine

  A few days after the Harvest Festival, Morgan was mucking out stalls in the barn. As the oldest brother he probably could have delegated to one of the others, but the crappy job suited his crappy mood. He hadn’t talked to Erica since dropping her off that night and didn’t much like the way they’d left things. It didn’t make him happy, but he missed her. And he was ticked off. Mad at himself for pushing. Mad at her for stonewalling him. He chucked a pitchfork full of hay and muck into the wheelbarrow beside him with more force than was necessary.

  He was also mad that the evening had been ruined. He’d been having a really good time, the best since moving to Bronco. Kissing Erica was a particularly memorable highlight. Her lips were soft and eager. Her sexy, throaty sounds said she liked it, too. Then it all went sideways with that lady’s comments.

  Truth was, Erica was carrying another man’s child. Yet all she would say was that the father wasn’t an issue and Morgan didn’t need to know more.

  That kiss said he did and was the reason he couldn’t let go of the questions. Did the father know about the baby? Did he not care? What if he had a change of heart and came after her? What if she had a change of heart and wanted to make it work with him?

  Another pile of muck went in the wheelbarrow. That was followed by a string of language that made him glad he wasn’t a kid anymore with his mother standing there holding a bar of soap to wash out his mouth.

  He really liked Erica. It was why he’d offered to help her. But things were changing; feelings were shifting. Getting complicated. He was confused and didn’t know what he wanted. But he was crystal clear that he didn’t want to keep stumbling around in the dark and get blindsided by another man. He intended to see Erica through the birth of that baby, but before the next class they needed to have a chat.

  Morgan heard voices and one of them was a woman’s. He looked up and saw Erica coming into the barn with his father. That man being around her tweaked his already bad attitude. He rested the pitchfork against the stall’s fence and stepped into the opening, watching the two of them walk down the center aisle toward him. She was smiling at something Neal Dalton said
and Morgan felt the knot in his gut pull tighter.

  His father noticed him there. “Hey, son.”

  He wanted to say he didn’t need the reminder about their shared DNA. But he didn’t, not in front of Erica.

  “Look who’s here,” Neal said.

  Erica smiled a little tentatively, not her usual, bright wattage cheerful expression. “Hi, Morgan.”

  “Hey.”

  “Watch your step,” his father said, putting a protective hand under her elbow. “Don’t want you falling, or stepping in something.”

  She laughed. “I’m a ranch kid. Grew up in the barn. I used to ride all the time, but that’s on hold for now.”

  “Deb, my wife, loves to ride. After her heart attack, I got a little overprotective about her on a horse.” His expression was teasing, but there was worry around the edges. “She wasn’t a happy camper. And that’s an understatement. Right, Morgan?”

  “Yeah.” His curt answer got a raised eyebrow from Erica.

  Neal noticed but overlooked it and kept up the charm crusade in front of a pretty woman. “She followed doctor’s orders to exercise and change her diet. Dinner isn’t as exciting these days, but she’s more important to me than carbs and cream sauce.”

  “So, she’s all right now?” Erica asked.

  “She is. Me and the boys are making sure of it. She put a scare into all of us.” His amiable, easygoing grin disappeared. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without that woman.”

  “Hopefully you won’t have to find out. And she’s lucky to have you,” Erica said.

  Morgan’s scoffing sound earned him another sharp look from her, but his father ignored it. After a year of working together, the man had apparently gotten used to his attitude and met it with gruffness. Morgan made no secret of how he felt and let the man deal with it however he wanted.

  “No. I’m the lucky one.” Neal met her gaze with a remarkably sincere look, then said, “Okay. I’ll let you two talk.”