Loving Wilder

by Leigh Tudor

  And at the end of the day, if he chose Maggie over her, so be it.

  Who knew? Maybe she and Maggie could be friends? Maybe Maggie could teach her how to cook and make her own organic baby food?

  New tears pooled in her eyes despite her efforts to look on the bright side.

  She jumped as someone pounded on the side of her windshield.

  Alec.

  Perfect.

  Better now than never.

  She opened the car door as he backed up, giving her just enough room to get out and shut the door behind her. She moved toward the front fender of the car and leaned next to it, a fair distance away from where she had lost her breakfast earlier. Blowing her nose on a wad of napkins, she wiped her face on the arm of her shirt.

  Certainly not a move as prim and proper as little Miss Maggie, who probably kept a hand-embroidered handkerchief folded in her purse. But, oh well.

  She took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at her dirty tennis shoes, taking in Alec’s hands resting on his hips.

  She glanced up and instantly regretted it, as his expression was a strange mixture of dismal ineffectuality and yearning.

  Alec nodded at the mess running down the side of the car door.

  “Looks like you’ve been sick.”

  “I haven’t been feeling well lately.” Maybe she could run her shoes through the washing machine?

  “I know you’ve been sick. I also know you’ve been hiding it from me.”

  Her head shot up. “Jimbo told you?”

  “Don’t be mad at him. He’s beside himself with worry.” His voice was gravelly and curt. “He doesn’t know what to do for you, and you don’t seem inclined to do anything for yourself.”

  Loren didn’t answer. Instead, she toed the gravel with her tennis shoe as he tried to contain his temper.

  “Maggie is… really pretty,” she randomly blurted.

  Silence.

  Did that mean he thought she was pretty too?

  He sighed. “I don’t even know the woman. Trevor thought it’d be a good idea to introduce me to his daughter’s teacher. I guess it’s a helluva lot easier to ignore your own problems when you’re knee-deep in someone else’s.”

  She nodded and then shrugged. “He’s right, though. Introducing you to someone like her is a good idea,” Loren said with a sad smile. “She seems very… wholesome.”

  “Loren,” Alec said, his eyes looking defeated and his hands out in supplication. “Please let me take you to see Dr. Samuels at the clinic in Wilder. Have him take a look at you.”

  Loren shook her head. “No need. I’ve been to see a doctor.”

  She glanced up as he bent his head down low enough to capture her attention. His blue orbs met hers, floating with concern.

  “And?”

  She cleared her throat. “I’m… pregnant.”

  His eyebrows shot up into his hairline as he stood straight in unrepressed shock. And then, reared his head back as he brought his fist to his mouth. Suddenly, he turned his back to her and laid intertwined fingers on the top of his head while staring out toward the other side of the road into old man Baker’s apple orchard.

  Just as quickly, he turned back around and looked back down at her with what appeared to be abject relief. “Thank God.”

  “You may want to hold on to that prayer,” she said with a smirk. “There’s a strong chance your progeny, currently marauding my womb, may have satanic DNA in his or her gene pool. I’m not saying they’ll be born speaking in tongues, but you might want to bring a hazmat suit and wooden cross to the hospital as a safety precaution.”

  “It’s the baby that’s making you so sick?”

  “Baby… Carnivorous fetus...”

  “What can I do?” Before she could reply, his eyes lit up. “You could move in with me. I could help take care of you. I could come home and check on you every day at noon and I’d always be close by when it’s around time for you to go into labor. And Ally could run errands for you after school.”

  No, no, no, no. There was no way she was going to do that to Ally.

  “No, Alec. I’m not moving anywhere. Besides, I’m not going to need a ride to the hospital for several months,” she said, placing her hand on her belly. “I’m having the baby at Newberry General, so it wouldn’t make sense for me to stay in Wilder. And don’t forget, I have Jimbo looking out for me. The man cooks and cleans. Can you believe it? I swear he must have been a Michelin chef in a past life.”

  “I think there’s a lot of things you might not know about Jimbo,” he mumbled.

  She watched the excitement slowly dissipate from Alec’s face, and it was all she could do to not cave and throw herself in his arms, mandating that he feed her grapes while reading What to Expect the First Year to her.

  He swallowed hard and then looked over her shoulder, his initial enthusiasm at the news going south fast. “So, how do you see this working?” he asked, clearing his throat. “I get him every other weekend and holidays?”

  Her chest felt tight, and she found it difficult to find the right words, let alone enough oxygen to breathe. “We… don’t have to figure all that out right now. We’ve got time.”

  “Why wait? Sounds like you’ve got everything figured out.”

  “I thought we’d give ourselves time to think about things,” she said, not really sure what she was thinking. “Work it out over time.”

  He looked down at her, making her cower at the cold determination in his eyes.

  Loren Ingalls never cowered, but she kept thinking about Madame Garmond, and how she chastised her, telling her she needed to stop being a tiresome martyr.

  “Fine,” he said with a challenging look in his eyes. “Then come over tomorrow night to the house, and let’s sit down and discuss things.”

  Ally would more than likely be there. She couldn’t take the chance.

  “I can’t tomorrow,” she said, avoiding his cold glare.

  “Okay, how about Sunday? Come to church, and we’ll stop by the diner afterward and agree on a plan.”

  Just another place Ally would be. Not to mention, it was just a matter of time before the town would discover they were expecting a baby. Together. She wasn’t ready for all that yet. All the questions and the fishing for details that she had yet to fabricate information around.

  “I don’t think I can do that either.”

  Alec’s eyes turned dark as he stared down at her, while she looked everywhere but at him.

  “I see,” he said, stepping back and giving her a wide berth. She rubbed her arms as the distance and stony expression sent a chill through her.

  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t talk about it. Can we meet somewhere that’s not so… I don’t know… public?”

  “I don’t think anyone would consider my house Grand Central Station, Loren.” He hesitated. “But fine, let’s meet at your house.”

  Oh God, no. She’d have his pants shucked and his torso shirtless in less than ten minutes.

  Unless, of course, Jimbo was there. That was it. She just needed to plan to meet Alec at her house while her burly roommate and chaperone happened to be home. And he was always home from work by seven-thirty.

  “How about Monday night?” she asked, praying this was a good idea. “Say, eight o’clock?”

  His eyes widened as if surprised she’d finally come up with a meeting time and place, and so soon.

  “Okay.” He seemed to stall for time. “When is the baby due?”

  “October. Trust me, it should come as no surprise that we’re having an All Hallows’ Eve baby.”

  She could see him doing the math and determining when they’d conceived. The night he’d stolen into her room wearing a pizza delivery jacket and smelling like pepperoni and testosterone-riddled male.

  “There’s a lot to do,” he said. “A lot to prepare for.”

  “There is,” she agreed, feeling awkward now that they’d actually come to terms on something.

&
nbsp; “Knowing you, you’ve probably been running a shit ton of algorithms in your head. A few risk assessment permutations.”

  She chuckled. “I’m not very good at making spontaneous decisions.”

  “Well, I am,” he said. “I’m ready to start being a father. I want to enjoy and embrace the entire process. Things like picking a room for a nursery at the farmhouse, hanging a tree swing, stockpiling diapers.”

  She nodded. “That’s nice.” She hugged her waist and continued to stare at his boots.

  “But I want to be clear here, and just know that this isn’t up for discussion or negotiation.” He waited until she finally looked up. “I’m going to be someone constant and important in our child’s life. Whether you’ve reconciled the numbers or not.”

  He started to head back to his car and then stopped, turning around. “I would think this goes without saying, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in this pea-sized brain of mine, it’s that the Ingalls women are flight risks. Please don’t even think about disappearing. Because if you do, so help me, I will hunt you down and make you pay for every minute I have to spend away from our baby.”

  She watched as Alec opened the driver’s door to his truck, revved up his engine and drove away.

  Perfect.

  Better now than never.

  Loren opened the car door as he backed up, giving her just enough room to get out and shut the door behind her. She moved toward the front fender of the car and leaned against the tire well, a fair distance away from where she had lost her breakfast earlier. Blowing her nose on a wad of napkins, she wiped her face on the arm of her shirt.

  Certainly not a move as prim and proper as little Miss Maggie, who probably kept a hand-embroidered handkerchief folded in her purse. But, oh well.

  She took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at her dirty tennis shoes, taking in Alec’s hands resting on his hips.

  She glanced up and instantly regretted it as his expression was a strange mixture of dismal ineffectuality and yearning.

  Alec nodded at the mess running down the side of the car door.

  “Looks like you’ve been sick.”

  “I haven’t been feeling well lately.” Maybe she could run her shoes through the washing machine?

  “I know you’ve been sick. I also know you’ve been hiding it from me.”

  Her head shot up. “Jimbo told you?”

  “Don’t be mad at him. He’s beside himself with worry.” His voice was gravelly and curt. “He doesn’t know what to do for you, and you don’t seem inclined to do anything for yourself.”

  Loren didn’t answer. Instead, she toed the gravel with her tennis shoe as he tried to contain his temper.

  “Maggie is… really pretty,” she randomly blurted.

  Silence.

  Did that mean he thought she was pretty too?

  He sighed. “I don’t even know the woman. Trevor thought it’d be a good idea to introduce me to his daughter’s teacher. I guess it’s a helluva lot easier to ignore your own problems when you’re knee-deep in someone else’s.”

  She nodded and then shrugged. “He’s right, though. Introducing you to someone like her is a good idea,” Loren said with a sad smile. “She seems very… wholesome.”

  “Loren,” Alec said, his eyes looking defeated and his hands out in supplication. “Please let me take you to see Doctor Samuels at the clinic in Wilder. Have him take a look at you.”

  Loren shook her head. “No need. I’ve been to see a doctor.”

  She glanced up as he bent his head down low enough to capture her attention. His blue orbs met hers, floating with concern.

  “And?”

  She cleared her throat. “I’m… pregnant.”

  His eyebrows shot up into his hairline as he stood straight in unrepressed shock. And then, reared his head back as he brought his fist to his mouth. Suddenly, he turned his back to her and laid intertwined fingers on the top of his head while staring out toward the other side of the road into old man Baker’s apple orchard.

  Just as quickly, he turned back around and looked back down at her with what appeared to be abject relief. “Thank God.”

  “You may want to hold on to that prayer,” she said with a smirk. “There’s a strong chance your progeny, currently marauding my womb, may have satanic DNA in his or her gene pool. I’m not saying they’ll be born speaking in tongues, but you might want to bring a hazmat suit and wooden cross to the hospital as a safety precaution.”

  “It’s the baby that’s making you so sick?”

  “Baby… Carnivorous fetus...”

  “What can I do?” Before she could reply, his eyes lit up. “You could move in with me. I could help take care of you. I could come home and check on you everyday at noon and I’d always be close by when it’s around time for you to go into labor. And Ally could run errands for you after school.”

  No, no, no, no. There was no way she was going to do that to Ally.

  “No, Alec. I’m not moving anywhere. Besides, I’m not going to need a ride to the hospital for several months,” she said, placing her hand on her belly. “I’m having the baby at Newberry General, so it wouldn’t make sense for me to stay in Wilder. And don’t forget, I have Jimbo looking out for me. The man cooks and cleans. Can you believe it? I swear he must have been a Michelin chef in a past life.”

  “I think there’s a lot of things you might not know about Jimbo,” he mumbled.

  She watched the excitement slowly dissipate from Alec’s face, and it was all she could do to not cave and throw herself in his arms, mandating that he feed her grapes while reading What to Expect the First Year to her.

  He swallowed hard and then looked over her shoulder, his initial enthusiasm at the news going south fast. “So, how do you see this working?” he asked, clearing his throat. “I get him every other weekend and holidays?”

  Her chest felt tight, and she found it difficult to find the right words, let alone enough oxygen to breathe. “We… don’t have to figure all that out right now. We’ve got time.”

  “Why wait? Sounds like you’ve got everything figured out.”

  “I thought we’d give ourselves time to think about things,” she said, not really sure what she was thinking. “Work it out over time.”

  He looked down at her, making her cower at the cold determination in his eyes.

  Loren Ingalls never cowered, but she kept thinking about Madame Garmond, and how she chastised her, telling her she needed to stop being a tiresome martyr.

  “Fine,” he said with a challenging look in his eyes. “Then come over tomorrow night to the house, and let’s sit down and discuss things.”

  Ally would more than likely be there. She couldn’t take the chance.

  “I can’t tomorrow,” she said, avoiding his cold glare.

  “Okay, how about Sunday? Come to church, and we’ll stop by the diner afterward and agree on a plan.”

  Just another place Ally would be. Not to mention, it was just a matter of time before the town would discover they were expecting a baby. Together. She wasn’t ready for all that yet. All the questions and the fishing for details that she had yet to fabricate information around.

  “I don’t think I can do that either.”

  Alec’s eyes turned dark as he stared down at her, while she looked everywhere but at him.

  “I see,” he said, stepping back and giving her a wide berth. She rubbed her arms as the distance and stony expression sent a chill through her.

  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t talk about it. Can we meet somewhere that’s not so… I don’t know… public?”

  “I don’t think anyone would consider my house Grand Central Station, Loren.” He hesitated. “But fine, let’s meet at your house.”

  Oh God, no. She’d have his pants shucked and his torso shirtless in less than ten minutes.

  Unless, of course, Jimbo was there. That was it. She just needed to plan to meet Alec at her house while her burly
roommate and chaperone happened to be home. And he was always home from work by seven-thirty PM.

  “How about Monday night?” she asked, praying this was a good idea. “Say, eight o’clock?”

  His eyes widened as if surprised she’d finally come up with a meeting time and place, and so soon.

  “Okay.” He seemed to stall for time. “When is the baby due?”

  “October. Trust me, it should come as no surprise that we’re having an All Hallows’ Eve baby.”

  She could see him doing the math and determining when they’d conceived. The night he’d stolen into her room wearing a pizza delivery jacket and smelling like pepperoni and testosterone-riddled male.

  “There’s a lot to do,” he said. “A lot to prepare for.”

  “There is,” she agreed, feeling awkward now that they’d actually come to terms on something.

  “Knowing you, you’ve probably been running a shit-ton of algorithms in your head. A few risk assessment permutations.”

  She chuckled. “I’m not very good at making spontaneous decisions.”

  “Well, I am,” he said. “I’m ready to start being a father. I want to enjoy and embrace the entire process. Things like picking a room for a nursery at the farmhouse, hanging a tree swing, stockpiling diapers.”

  She nodded. “That’s nice.” She hugged her waist and continued to stare at his boots.

  “But I want to be clear here, and just know that this isn’t up for discussion or negotiation.” He waited until she finally looked up. “I’m going to be someone constant and important in our child’s life. Whether you’ve reconciled the numbers or not.”

  He started to head back to his car and then stopped, turning around. “I would think this goes without saying, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in this pea-sized brain of mine, it’s that the Ingalls women are flight risks. Please don’t even think about disappearing. Because if you do, so help me, I will hunt you down and make you pay for every minute I have to spend away from our baby.”

  She watched as Alec opened the driver’s door to his truck, revved up his engine and drove away.

  Chapter Six