Cowboys Don't Have a Secret Baby

by Jessie Gussman

  Supermodels didn’t have stretch marks.

  The thought brought reality crashing back. She had a child, and she needed to protect her. She couldn’t imagine Ty would care if he were a father. Surely the thought that a child could have been the result of what they’d done would have occurred to him if he did. But he had the money to take her child if he so desired. She needed to tread carefully.

  She needed to do casual. She blinked her eyes and tried with all her heart and soul to pretend he meant nothing to her. Since he’d shown her quite plainly that she meant nothing to him. “Yep, it’s me. Know what you want, yet?”

  His face registered surprise. He spoke slowly. “You don’t know who I am.”

  “Sure do. You’re Ty Hanson. And I’m trying to take your order. You need more time?”

  He blinked. His eyes swiped over her again. “You’re—” his voice held incredulity “—a waitress?”

  He said “waitress” the way one might have said “dumpster fire.”

  Louise pursed her lips as flaming pain struck her chest and fanned out. Of course, the multimillionaire hockey star looked down on her. Everyone whispered behind their hands about the girl who got herself pregnant and didn’t even have a man to step up and claim her kid.

  “Okay. You look over the menu some more, and I’ll be back in a bit.” She spun on her toes and took one step before his voice stopped her.

  “Booker,” he said, soft and low, but there was a note of urgency in his tone too. It hit her right between the shoulder blades, that nickname that he had made up and used when they met. It had sounded like a caress back then, sweet and deep. Like he’d really loved her like he said. Obviously, he remembered everything. Just as she did.

  Her throat clenched as she tried to swallow. She tilted her head and closed her eyes for just a second. She wanted to turn around. She wanted to look into those eyes and see the truth. See that there was actually a reasonable explanation as to why he’d never come back. Hadn’t even come back like a normal person did, for summer break and Christmas vacation.

  But there was no reasonable explanation. As much as her heart begged her to respond to his voice, to the name shared only between them, she took a breath and walked away.

  SHE WAS A WAITRESS. Louise was a waitress.

  There was nothing wrong with waitresses. Nothing at all. But she’d been the valedictorian. His mother had told him that much. In a small town, anything that happened was worth talking about, and he’d latched onto anything his mother had said about anyone in the Olson family.

  Louise was smart. And she’d had so many plans. She’d wanted to cure cancer, and she was a science whiz. She could have done it. She’d thought about trying premed, but she was scared she wasn’t smart enough to be a doctor. He’d known she was. And he’d told her so one night while they lay on the blanket looking at the stars. He remembered leaning over her and taking her head in his hands, so much knowledge and information between his two clumsy cowboy’s hands.

  His words had made a sweet, dreamy look come into her clear blue eyes, and she’d told him he could do it too. He’d found out in college that she’d been right. He’d been a dumb jock, because that’s what everyone thought he was. But he’d gotten a degree in agricultural science, never missed a hockey game, and never gotten any grade below an A-. Not bad for a dumb jock from the prairies of North Dakota.

  He watched her walk away. Slender and small. Her head high. Her shoulders back. He’d seen her in school with that same posture, and he’d figured she was stuck-up or that she thought she was too smart to talk to the rest of the mere mortals. But after he’d gotten to know her some, he’d realized she was just quiet. After she loosened up, she was funny and sweet. Perfect.

  But why was she still in Sweet Water? And why was she a waitress and not a doctor?

  He tore his eyes away. People always gossiped in small towns, and he didn’t want to bring attention to her. Maybe she was married. He glanced back, but her hand was under a tray now, and he couldn’t see if there was a ring. She could have found a guy her senior year, although the thought bothered him, that she would forget him so easily.

  But he remembered his promises to her, and he hadn’t kept them. Whatever she had done, she had every right in the world to do. He’d left and broken every promise he made.

  When she came back, she was just as composed as she’d always been. His friends had called her the Ice Queen in school. He hadn’t thought much about it, because he’d been dating her best friend, a cheerleader. Couldn’t even remember her name. He’d liked her because he thought they looked good together.

  Louise came back and stopped in front of his table. Her scent, clean and pure, like a North Dakota night, drifted to him, and he inhaled like he’d been holding his breath for the last nine years.

  “Have you decided yet?” she asked, with no hint of emotion on her face. She carried a tablet and a pencil this time. A lefty. He’d forgotten she was a lefty.

  No ring.

  Words of explanation and apology trembled on his lips, but this was not the place. He’d never told anyone about them. No one living, anyway. If she hadn’t, he could respect that.

  “If you need more time, I can come back.”

  “A burger.”

  Her hand moved above the notepad. Her fingers were long and slender, just like he remembered. Her hand would disappear into his.

  “You want fries with that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. I’ll put it right in and be back with a refill on your water.”

  He hadn’t even noticed he’d drained the glass dry.

  They were different people now. No longer young and dumb. Just because she’d been the image in his head for so long. The girl that no other girls measured up to. The one that could laugh and be silly, while still sounding intelligent. The one he’d felt a connection with, like she fit with him perfectly. When he was with Louise, he’d felt like he was home.

  Which is why it was so much worse when his dad died. He hadn’t been where he was supposed to be. He’d been where he wanted to be, with all his heart and soul. He’d needed to leave after his dad’s death. College was starting. But maybe the ferocity of the pull he’d felt toward Louise had kept him from returning home, just as much as the painful thought of facing his home without his dad there.

  Regardless, he’d made a mistake, and he owed her an apology. He should have done it long ago, but he couldn’t change the past. Today was the best he could do.

  “THANKS.” LOUISE TOOK the plate from Rebel as he handed it over the window.

  Rebel leaned out and didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t ogling Ty. “Is that Ty Hanson? The hockey forward?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I heard he was back in town. Jackson and Patty said he’d been in a few times, but I haven’t seen him. Man, he’s huge.”

  “You want to take his plate out?” Louise asked. Her tone sounded just as grumpy as she felt. Itchy. Like she wanted to leave but had to stay.

  “Oh, no. I could never do that. I’d drop it on his lap.” He shook his head. “I’ve seen him on TV. He’s amazing. I can’t believe he’s in our diner, like right there.”

  “He gets up in the morning and puts his pants on one leg at a time, same as you.” Louise grabbed a bottle of ketchup and stuck it on her tray.

  “True. But he’s a monster on the ice. Like, seriously. I want his autograph so bad.”

  Louise wasn’t sure she could stand around while Rebel hero-worshipped Ty. She set his plate on her tray and stalked over, not even sure why she was annoyed. Ty had lied, sure, but she didn’t hate him. She’d never hated him. Okay, she might have hated him a few times when she overheard people wondering where the father of her baby was. Being pregnant in school hadn’t been a walk in the park, either.

  But she wouldn’t be angry, and she wouldn’t be bitter. She didn’t want to be that person.

  She stopped in front of his table, setting his plate down in front of him without mee
ting his eyes. She set the ketchup bottle to the side. “Do you need anything else?” she asked, proud of the levelness of her tone.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  She wouldn’t be angry, and she wouldn’t be bitter.

  Pasting a polite smile on her face, she said, “I’m busy. Sorry.”

  “What time do you get off? I’ll talk to you then.”

  Keeping the polite smile fixed firmly in place, she said, “That’s the worst idea I’ve heard in nine years.”

  He flinched, and if she were keeping score, which she wasn’t, she would have notched herself a victory.

  “Give me five minutes.”

  “I’ll be busy until closing.”

  He looked around pointedly. Since he’d come in, four tables had cleared out, and two more were about to leave. One couple had come in. He didn’t realize that she did her editing job during the slow times. She wasn’t about to tell him. If he thought she was less than dirt for waitressing, he’d have to dig to find her position if he knew she had two jobs. Not counting what she did on the ranch, of course.

  She squeezed her lips together, hoping that made her smile bigger, and said, “I’ll be back around to check on you.”

  As she walked away, she remembered he’d volunteered to work with her. With all the emotion and memories, she’d totally forgotten. But he’d looked so surprised to see her. Like he didn’t even know she was in town. Maybe she could fish the exact details out of Gram. Did her name get mentioned? Maybe they just said the pianist? She hadn’t played when he’d been here before.

  How was she going to work with him?

  She snorted. Nope. She couldn’t. No way.

  Swiping at the table she’d just cleared, she squared her shoulders. Yes, she could. She could do anything she set her mind to. Ty Hanson was not going to intimidate her. She would be businesslike and professional, even if it was just a small-town festival. She’d tell him what to do, then she’d leave and expect him to do it. There was no need for them to spend an excessive amount of time together. And there was definitely no need for him to ever see Tella.

  Then a thought hit her, so hard and fast, she actually sagged against the table. Donna, Ty’s mother, watched Tella after school a lot. Every day Louise worked during the school year. What was she going to do?

  Grabbing the dirties, she lugged them to the kitchen.

  “You okay?” Rebel asked. “You look a little starstruck.”

  “Not likely.” She knew Ty when he was just a down-home cowboy hoping for a break. His superstardom or whatever didn’t intimidate her.

  “Hey, kid, you’re almost acting like you don’t like him. You have some kind of grudge against him?” Jackson scratched his head. “You’ve never left Sweet Water, and he’s not been here in nine or so years... You know him before?”

  Drat! He was digging too close to the truth she needed to keep buried. She summoned a breezy look. “He went to the same school I did, but he was older by a year or several. It’s been a long time, and hard to remember.” She lifted a shoulder in what she hoped came across as an uncaring attitude. “He was holding me up. We’ve been busy, and I have a rush job I need to finish up tonight.”

  Jackson nodded. It was well-known in the diner that she worked on editing jobs when things were slow. Patty had okay’d it several years ago, when Louise had first asked.

  She hurried around, checking out two patrons and clearing their tables. The whole time, she could feel Ty’s eyes on her, burning.

  Finally, when she could avoid it no longer, she walked over to his table. “Dessert?”

  He stayed silent until she couldn’t stand it and met his gaze at last. His chest moved in and out, like he’d been running. Maybe hers was doing the same thing. It felt that way.

  She bit the inside of her cheek and looked away. “I’ll give you more time—”

  “Not tonight. Maybe some other time.” His voice sounded almost sad, and her heart reached for him. She wanted to slap it back.

  Instead, she dug in her pocket for her notepad and ripped off his check. “I can take it here, or you can pay at the register, it’s up to you.”

  “Talk to me, Booker.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rebel standing at the window. There weren’t any orders to come up. She didn’t look directly over to be sure, but he had to be watching Ty and her. She wasn’t going to make herself a target for the town gossip. Not again.

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “You didn’t mind it when I called you that before.”

  “That was a lot of years ago, and I’m not that girl anymore.” She lowered her voice and leaned over like she was taking his plate. “I don’t know how long you’re in town, but if you want an easy lay, you’d better look elsewhere.” She took his plate and straightened. “I’m really not that girl anymore.”

  His jaw stuck out, and his eye twitched. “I never thought you were.”

  His face looked sincere, if angry. She wouldn’t fall for his sweet talk again. “Fooled me.” She turned and walked away.

  As she carried his plate to the window, Rebel’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. “You know him!”

  “I told you we went to school together.”

  “You were talking to him, leaning over him. You guys looked real cozy.”

  “Yeah, Rebel. Because I hit on every cute guy that comes in here.”

  “Actually, you don’t. Which is why this is...” His voice trailed off, and he got a puppy-dog worship look on his face.

  Great. Louise figured Ty had decided to walk his check to the cash register.

  “Ask him to sign my hat,” Rebel said in a fast whisper.

  “Ask him yourself.” Louise knew she was being waspish, and she was never waspish, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

  She walked to the register. She could be kind. Just a few more minutes and he would leave. One thing was for certain, though. If he were staying in town, she’d either need to figure out how to deal with him, or she needed to take Tella and leave. Probably the second.

  He stood in front of the register, and she slipped over behind it. He’d grown. Wider and taller. He always had made her feel small and feminine, but the effect was more pronounced now.

  Do your job. “How was your meal?” she asked, just like she asked every stranger who came through. The locals chattered and gossiped while they paid. Ty wasn’t a local. Not in her eyes.

  “It was fine. Company was finer.” He paused. “That wasn’t a pickup line. It was the truth.” He handed her cash.

  “I didn’t know you knew what that was.” She smiled sweetly at him, staring at the cleft in his chin, which was a big mistake. Just like Tella’s. She ripped her eyes away, concentrating on giving him the right amount of change.

  “Thank you and have a great evening,” she said before turning her back and walking blindly over to the counter where the silverware waited to be wrapped.

  It took a minute before the sound of his boots on the floor signaled that he was walking out.

  Relief mixed with some other emotion tore through her soul, and she suddenly felt like crying. She’d never really cried when he didn’t come back. For a long time, she had a solid faith that he would. Then she had a baby and didn’t have time to cry.

  She looked around. There were only two tables left. “Rebel, keep an eye on those for me, please. I need to take a break.”

  She didn’t care what he thought. She needed a minute. Walking through the kitchen, she pushed through the small pantry and out onto the protected porch. Feeling weak and tired, she sank onto the first step, holding her knees and rocking slowly back and forth. She’d barely talked to him, and she felt like she survived the firing squad. Somehow, she needed to get a hold of herself. She just had no idea how.

  Chapter 4

  Ty knew he was borderline stalking. But he needed to talk to Louise. He hadn’t meant to insult her with the waitress comment, but in hindsight, it was easy to see he
had. His words weren’t coming out right. How could they? He’d been so shaken up just from seeing her. Her scent, her expression, her fingers...everything about her stirred him. Not a “normal” reaction. Not a reaction he’d had to a single one of the women he’d been around since he left Sweet Water. And yes, he’d been around, been chased, by a lot of beautiful women.

  So he stood across the street, leaning against the movie theater storefront where he could see the diner. He pulled his hat down low against the stiff breeze that had sprung up, as it often did in Sweet Water, and waited.

  She’d never said what time she got off, and maybe he should just let it go, but he’d let it go for far too long. He took the easy way out. Burying himself in his studies and in hockey and his friends at school. His dedication had paid off in the draft, and now in his paycheck, but he’d hurt people along the way. Not just Louise. His mother lost her husband and her son at the same time. He never stopped talking to her, but it had to be hard to only have him come home a couple of days each year, if that.

  When his mother came back from her trip, he needed to apologize to her too.

  Tonight, Louise was here. But the longer he stood there, the more he decided he was pushing too hard. She’d said no. He should accept that, let it go, and walk away.

  He pushed his hat down farther as a gust of wind whipped down the street. Seemed like there might be a storm tonight. He didn’t like the idea of Louise getting off work and driving home alone in it.

  The diner had emptied out by seven thirty, and he could see Louise with a computer open in front of her, sitting on a stool behind the bar. By eight, she was up cleaning, and by eight thirty, she walked out, heading down the street toward the park where his car was sitting.

  He followed with his eyes, hidden in shadow, and didn’t try to follow. Maybe he’d see her again, but he wasn’t going to push her tonight.

  Lightning flashed across the sky, turning dark shadows into broad daylight, before darkness and the crash and boom of thunder shook the air around him.