by Kara Jones
“Your father suffered from a heart attack, not a brain injury, sir. I doubt he was crazy when he asked me to redraft his will,” the lawyer said snidely, and I snorted at Jefferson’s mistake.
My brothers spent the rest of the day arguing and contesting the details of the will when my mother finally put her foot down.
“All of you, stop this! Your father was just laid to rest, and already you’re arguing over who gets to keep his possessions. Just for one day, please, can you give your father the respect he deserves?” mom said, and my brothers looked down in shame.
I went back to my room after everything was over, calling the office that I couldn’t make it today, and they understood why.
I never cared about the inheritance and I’m not starting now. But since dad told me to take care of it, I will do as he says and keep the farm in tip-top shape.
I swear it.
Zia
Ding!
“Order up!” Joe called, as he manned the grill. I walked over to the station and took the plate, serving it to my customer before going off to another table and taking their order.
Joe and his wife, Martha, were only too happy to hire me when I applied for them. They even offered their daughter’s bedroom for me to rent since she was already married with kids of her own and hardly came back to visit.
So I was pretty much set to leave her for a couple of months until I could afford a ticket back home.
I took my customer’s order and spun around, only to suddenly feel the world start to turn. I managed to brace myself on the edge of the table before I fell on my ass completely. I closed my eyes, trying to clear my vision.
My dizzy spells were constant for almost a week and a half now, and they’ve been keeping me from doing my work. I thought it would disappear after a day or two, but since it had lasted for more than a week, I was starting to think I might have been coming down with something.
I felt a warm hand touch my shoulder and I jumped, startled, before turning my head. Martha was looking at me with worry and I smiled, trying to reassure her that I was alright.
When I saw that my smile didn’t work, I opened my mouth to tell her when I gagged at the scent my nose just caught. I ran toward the bathroom and puked my guts out, Martha immediately following me inside to rub my back.
“Zia, are you alright, dear?” she asked me sweetly, and I nodded, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Yuck.
“I’m fine, Martha. I must be getting the flu,” I said.
Martha continued to look at me with concern and scrutiny, and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.
“Zia, when did you have your last period?” she asked. I blinked at the question.
“I had it back in…” I frowned as I realized I hadn’t had my period in a while. The color must’ve disappeared from my face because Martha then took my hand in hers, grasping them tightly.
“There’s a drugstore right across from the diner,” she said, and I didn’t need to be a genius to figure out what she wanted me to do. I jogged out of the diner and went right in, scanning the aisles until I found what I needed. I paid for it and went straight back to the diner, making a beeline for the bathroom and locked the door.
Ten minutes later, I got the biggest news of my life, and I walked robotically out of the bathroom. I nodded at Martha, who was standing by the counter with Joe this time, and I walked over to them to ask them a question.
“Can you please tell me where a guy named Brock lives?”
Brock
I shook my head as I brushed my chestnut colt who I had named Crimson, smirking to myself as I imagined what my stupid brothers were doing now. They were probably off looking for women to marry and impregnate. It’s like I was watching dogs in heat.
“Now, why aren’t you going out and looking for a girl to love like the rest of your brothers, son?” a voice asked, and I turned my head toward the entrance of the stables to see my mom walking in, carrying sugar cubes for Crimson. I smiled brightly at her.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve told you and dad a million times before already. I’m not interested in taking over the farm. One more person to join the fight over who gets the farm is one too many,” I told her.
My mom smiled and held out the sugar cube to Crimson who nibbled it gratefully. “But wouldn’t you want to have kids of your own in the future?”
I shrugged. “If it’s meant to be, then yeah, but I’m not going out of my way to produce one just so I can have dad’s–” I didn’t get to finish my answer because my mom slapped her hands to my cheeks and pushed them together, making my face look weird as she smiled with mirth.
“You’re a good man, Brock,” she said, and I blinked at her before she pulled away. “He may not have said it often, but your father really loved you. He always told me that he trusted you the most in taking care of the farm because not only were you a natural at it, but you never complained.” I looked away from her after that, hiding the tears on my face, eventhough I knew she had heard me sobbing earlier.
Must… not… cry… after… this.
She watched me brush all the other mares before I escorted her back to the house. I went to the kitchen to heat up some water when I heard the doorbell ring.
“I’ll get it!” I yelled, racing through the house to unlock the main door.
I opened the door and was surprised to find Zia standing there, looking at me uncertainly with those brown eyes of hers.
I instantly felt guilty because it’s been two weeks since we last saw or talked to each other, and I didn’t mean to do that. When I took her number from her, I really was meaning to call her. I wanted to call her every other day because every day would’ve seemed creepy to her, I think. But the day I ran out of the hospital and into the rain, the napkin she gave me was soaked, and the writing was illegible, and I was too preoccupied with dad that I didn’t bother looking her up again.
“Hey, come on in,” I said, genuinely happy to see her. She smiled slightly before entering the house, looking around curiously.
“Sorry for suddenly coming here unannounced. I didn’t exactly have your number,” she said. I scratched the back of my head in embarrassment.
“Yeah, I sort of went through some stuff and your napkin ended up getting destroyed by the rain,” I admitted, and she wrinkled her nose at me before nodding. I gestured for her to sit down on the couch, and I quickly walked back to the kitchen and put some cookies on the plate and poured a glass of milk before going back to place them on the coffee table in front of her. I sat down on the seat across from her. “So, how have you been, Zia? What brings you here?” I asked.
“I need to tell you something, and I swear, I am telling the truth,” she said, her eyes pleading for me to understand what she was about to say. I wrinkled my eyebrows, but nodded, waiting for her to elaborate. She took a deep breath before digging for something inside of her purse. She pulled out something long, covered in tissue, and handed it to me. I took it with one hand. I unwrapped it and blinked as I saw what it was.
It was a pregnancy test, and it was positive.
I wasn’t an idiot. I knew what this meant.
“You’re pregnant?” I asked.
She nodded.
I heard something crash and I turned around and saw my mother’s hand on her mouth, broken pieces of glass scattered on the floor. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and I managed to haul my ass off my seat and catch her before she fell over the shards. I turned my head to look at Zia, who was standing with her mouth agape and her eyes widened in shock.
“Well, I guess we don’t have to tell my mom anymore,” I said jokingly.
My mom was really forthcoming after she woke up from her faint. She started doting on Zia like crazy, asking her if she was eating right and if she was sleeping well. Zia looked like she was becoming overwhelmed with the attention, so I quickly distracted my mom by telling her to get the guestroom ready so Zia could stay.
“Wait, I never said anything abou
t–” Zia protested, but I cut her off, taking her hand and raising it to my lips.
“You’re staying. I’m not about to abandon you, especially since you’re going to be the mother of my children,” I said, matter of fact. Her eyes widened.
“I haven’t been to the doctor yet. How could you know I’m carrying more than one?” she asked.
That wasn’t really what I meant, but I’ll let her ponder over that for a while. I don’t want to make her run for the hills.
I made Zia tell me all about herself and what she did for the past two weeks, and made a mental note to thank Joe and Martha for taking her in.
I helped my Mom set Zia up in her room, making sure she had everything she needed, and then I remembered my brothers and my father’s will. I just knew that they were going to make a big issue out of Zia being pregnant. No matter how much I’d reiterate that I wasn’t interested in dad’s farm, they’d think it was more than a coincidence that I’m having a kid.
And, what about Zia? What was I supposed to tell her?
I shook my head. I wasn’t going to tell her anything just yet, because she might misunderstand. I’d have to be vigilant about keeping her away from my brothers, though.
Zia
If anyone ever told me that my long-time boyfriend would leave me stranded in some town and I’d get knocked up by some cowboy I met at the bar the same night, I’d have probably laughed hysterically, thinking it was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard.
But that is exactly what had happened. And to be honest, I was alright with it.
Brock’s mom was such a nice woman, doting on me whenever possible and teaching me all the things I needed to know about taking care of babies. She even told me all about Brock’s escapades when he was a kid while we baked goodies for Brock and his brothers who were busy working the farm. Brock was so embarrassed he had to shut my laughter up by kissing me hard. Needless to say, I laughed at him on purpose after that.
Brock’s older brothers, however, were a different story.
They glared at me whenever we ate dinner at the table, and sneered at me when I passed by. It’s like they hated me for being there. I told Brock about it, and his jaw clenched and his eyes became steely, telling me not to worry about it, and that he’d speak to his brothers about it. I was a little scared to think that I might’ve caused more trouble by telling Brock about my pregnancy.
Speaking of Brock, he was amazing. He was so loving, so gentle, and so sweet about everything. I wondered why he had me sleep in the guest bedroom instead of in his room, and he admitted that he really did want me to sleep with him, but he was worried I wouldn’t want to be with him that way yet. I was so touched by his consideration that I ended up rewarding him with a kiss that he reciprocated eagerly. We ended up having sex on his bed that day, and I was totally ravished.
To be honest, I had expected him to turn me away, but he had accepted my pregnancy so quickly that I still thought it was unbelievable.
Despite sleeping with him regularly though, I still didn’t know where we stood with each other, and I didn’t want to assume anything after my experience with Chris. I couldn’t deny that Brock was slowly becoming the man I dreamed about every night, taking care of my kids and I while we grew old together.
I got knocked up by the strange cowboy I met at the bar, and now I’m falling in love with him. It was perfect.
I was looking for something to eat when I heard Brock’s brothers enter the house and go into the living room. My shoulders slumped because, even after staying here for a little over four months now, they still didn’t like me.
I didn’t want to deal with them right now, so I waited in the kitchen, just listening to them talk until they decided to leave. I caught Brock’s name in their conversation, and I strained my ears to hear what they were saying.
“For someone who claims he doesn’t want anything to do with dad’s money, fulfilling hiscondition all of a sudden seems awfully convenient,” Jefferson said.
“I highly doubt it was a coincidence,” Logan added.
“I did some research on that girl, and no one knows who she is except that she’s a waitress at Joe’s and she used to rent out a room in their house. She’s probably from out of town,” Oak, the fourth elder brother said.
Forrest scoffed. “She probably needed every single dime Brock had to offer, and agreed to get pregnant. Brock probably told her she’d get a share of his inheritance, too,” he said.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Is this why Brock was being so nice to me? Because he needed to have a kid so he could receive his inheritance?
I want to get out of here.
I shook my head and ran out of the house, ignoring the surprised gasps of Brock’s brothers, as they saw me run past them.
So much for that dream I had of us being together for real.
Brock
I’m pretty sure I looked like an idiot, smiling as big as I was for the past hour.
But, it was pretty hard to contain the joy I was feeling right now, especially when I was going to pop the question to Zia and hope for the best.
I went to the mall earlier and bought the ring I had been saving up for so I could propose to her later. I mean, I already knew she was going to be the woman I wanted to be with for the rest of my life, so why wait for the inevitable?
I had it all planned out to make today the best day possible for her, but one look at the grim faces of my brothers when I entered the room, and I knew that something was wrong.
“What happened?” I asked, looking at each of their guilt-ridden faces. Logan winced before telling me what happened.
I ran out of there and went to look for Zia, wondering where she went. I asked Joe and Martha if they saw her, but they said they didn’t, and I was scared she might’ve lef on the train without me. I couldn’t let that happen.
My luck turned when I saw her by the lake – the place where we first made love to each other. I sprinted out of my truck, the engine still running, and stood behind Zia.
“Baby, what are you doing here?” I asked, my heart breaking as I watched her shoulders shake from crying.
“Were they right? Are you really just doing this because of your inheritance?” she asked. I shook my head vehemently. She wouldn’t turn around, so I pulled her by the arm and held her tight against me, keeping her locked in my arms.
“My father wasn’t even gone yet that time we got together. But even if he hadn’t made it a condition in his will, I would’ve welcomed you into our home and into my life, regardless.” I pulled away slightly to cup her face with my hands, staring at her with all the love and honesty I could express.
“Zia, the way we started wasn’t how I pictured meeting the woman of my dreams, but I wouldn’t change a bit of it because I wouldn’t have you in my arms now if I hadn’t been with you the first night we met. And I don’t want our days together to end.” I pulled out the velvet box I kept in my jeans and knelt on one knee, making her gasp as I presented her with the diamond ring I bought for her. “I love you, Zia Smith. I love you, I need you, and I want you to be Mrs. Brock McAdams. So, will you marry me?” I asked.
Her eyes welled up with tears. She took my hand and pulled me back to my feet before giving me a kiss. She then placed my hand on her stomach, and my eyes widened as I felt the baby kick it.
“The baby and I think that’s a great idea,” she replied, and I did the only thing I could think of that would make this moment perfect.
I carried her to the bed of my truck, so we could kiss under the stars we first made love by.
The End
Want a free book? Blue Steel Publishing is giving away a free three part series (no strings attached). This book is exclusive to our free VIP readers group. >>Click here to receive your free gift.<<
Here’s a sample:
One Night With A Billionaire
Chapter 1
At a bar, on a Monday, alone. What the hell has my life come to? That’s all I
could think about when the bartender poured me my fourth appletini. It wasn’t even night time. It was 4:30 P.M.; basically, still afternoon. The sun was far from setting, yet there I was. The only damn person sitting at the bar, except for a couple of lecherous old guys and the bartender.
Was I really just going to wallow in alcohol because my douchebag ex-boyfriend was getting married? Forget the fact that we were engaged at this exact time last year. Forget the fact that his credit was basically in the negatives before we met. Now he’s debt-free with a ridiculously nice job on Wall Street.
If that wasn’t reason enough to make me want to drink, then I’m not really sure what would be.
I wasn’t even sure when the last time I’d been in a bar was – probably college… early college. It really was never even my scene in the first place, but here I was, for the third day in a row drinking shit down like I was in the Alcoholics Olympics or something.
I had slung back the last gulp of my fifth appletini when I heard the door behind me blast open. I glanced back, wondering what other pathetic soul was caught in a bar at 5 P.M. on a Monday. I was actually pretty surprised by what I saw, though.
It wasn’t an old guy like all the other dudes surrounding me. It was probably the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my entire life. He was tall, muscular, and with a chiseled jaw and brown hair. His eyes were piercing from what I could see – green by the looks of it when he stepped into the dim light of the bar and edged closer to me.
He smiled and looked passed me. “Hey, Jimmy,” he said, gesturing toward the bartender.
“Ben!” the bartender yelled out. The bartender was attractive… about my age with a full, but short and well-maintained beard and gorgeous brown eyes. “What are you up to, man? Why so early?”
Great, I thought. The bartender thinks I’m a loser, too.
“I just thought I’d come in for a quick beer while I waited for my dad to get out of his meeting, so we can head home.”