Cowboys Don't Have a Secret Baby

by Jessie Gussman

  But Palmer was already walking around the front of his truck, carrying a small bag. “I bought you this.” He held up the bag before reaching into it. Louise tried not to tap her foot impatiently or, worse, grab the bag. Why wouldn’t he just leave? She needed to figure out how to hide Tella, and he was wasting her time.

  He pulled a dark blue t-shirt out of the bag. It said, I’m a single mom. I can do anything.

  Palmer grinned.

  Ames said, “How could we not think of you when we saw this?”

  “I love it. It’s amazing.” Louise tried to tamp down her impatience, but it came out in her words.

  Then her heart lurched to a stop and her brain told her to turn and run, because Ty’s expensive rental car pulled to a stop in front of Palmer’s truck. Sawyer’s old beat-up pickup stopped behind Ty.

  Palmer looked around. “Hey, there’s Sawyer and Ty. They’re pulling in from the wrong side of town. Maybe they went over to see Ford. Think Sawyer said they were out there earlier this week, too.” He turned back to her. “Hold your shirt up so we can see what it looks like.”

  Louise did a fast shuffle in her hands so the words were pointed in and held the shirt to her chest. “It’s perfect. Thanks so much for thinking of me. Don’t let me hold you up anymore.”

  “I told you, you’re not holding me up. Relax, Louise.”

  Sawyer and Ty walked toward them. Less than twenty feet away.

  She grabbed the bag from Palmer and shoved the shirt in. “I need to go check on Tella.”

  “She’s fine. She just went to the restroom. It’s Patty’s Diner. She knows the way and will be out in a minute.” He took a hold of her arm. “What’s the matter with you? I’ve never seen you act this way.”

  Louise’s panicked eyes flew from Palmer’s chest to Sawyer and, finally, to Ty. He was smiling like he was glad to see her. It faded as her expression couldn’t be forced into anything remotely resembling happiness.

  This situation could not get any worse.

  “Mommy! Mommy!” Tella came running out of Patty’s.

  “Don’t run in the diner,” Louise said automatically.

  “I’m not in the diner, I’m out of it,” Tella backtalked, which she seldom did, but it just made the slow-motion horror film that had started to unroll before Louise’s eyes all the more real. “I forgot to tell you what Uncle Palmer said.”

  Palmer let go of her arm and bent down to get more level with Tella. “What did I say, honey?”

  Tella rushed on, but Louise didn’t hear. With Palmer leaning down, she could clearly see the stunned expression on Ty’s face. His eyes flew to hers. She couldn’t pull hers away from him, couldn’t get her mouth to move, couldn’t get any sound to come out of her mouth at all.

  Behind her, Ames gasped, but Louise barely noticed. Ty’s eyes flew from her to Tella, back to her, then back to Tella. He took a step closer, his hand out. But he stopped and dropped it. The bewildered expression on his face was swept away by thunderclouds of anger. Louise stepped back, her hand going to her throat.

  Palmer had turned his head at Ames’s gasp, and now he straightened, his eyes going from Ames to Louise to Ty. They hooked on Ty and stayed there.

  Beside Palmer, Sawyer had figured out that something was going on as he scanned Ames’s face then Palmer’s. He looked at Louise. Then Tella. Then Ty. His gaze, too, latched onto Ty’s face and didn’t move.

  Tella, finally figuring out that no one was listening to her and that something was very, very wrong, faded off into silence.

  Long, drawn-out seconds of silence passed. Louise wasn’t sure who moved first, Palmer or Sawyer, but her brothers seemed to figure everything out at the exact same second.

  They turned on Ty, who didn’t even look at them. His gaze was stuck on Tella, anger still on his face.

  Louise could remember only a few times in their adult life when her brothers had gotten angry. They were both even-tempered and fairly laid-back. Sawyer was a bit more of a commander than Palmer, but neither were fighters. But, like they’d planned it, they each grabbed two fistfuls of Ty’s t-shirt and slammed him against Patty’s Diner. Thankfully, they missed the window by about four inches.

  Sawyer cursed, calling Ty names that Louise had never heard. Palmer’s face was as red as blood, and veins stood out on his neck. The muscles in his arms bulged as they held Ty off his feet and against the building.

  Ty had been in his share of fistfights. Louise had actually seen him fight on TV, not that they saw all his games. And he was big. But so were her brothers. Strong cowboys whose muscles were earned taming the tough North Dakota flatlands and forcing a living from it.

  But Ty didn’t look scared. He didn’t even seem to notice the men holding him, yelling in his face. His jaw had tightened. His eyes narrowed. His entire face was dark with his brows drawn to a point above his nose.

  “I’ve waited nine years to put my fist through his face,” Sawyer growled in a mountain lion tone.

  “I’ve waited just as long,” Palmer said in a tone that matched it.

  Their tirade stopped as they gasped for air.

  Into the first breath of silence since they’d grabbed Ty, Tella’s little-girl voice floated like an angel’s wings. “Uncle Palmer, Uncle Sawyer, is that...is that Ty Hanson, the hockey forward?” She stepped toward them tentatively, whether because of her uncles’ wrath or because she couldn’t believe Ty actually stood in front of her. She pointed to her shirt. “This Ty Hanson?”

  Palmer and Sawyer turned to look at their niece. They looked at each other, then as one, they looked back at Louise. “Say the word, sister.”

  “You know, you’re not really holding him,” Tella pointed out. Her face held the little-girl intelligent look that she used to recite interesting facts she learned in school. “His arms are hanging down. I think he could beat you up if he really wanted to.” She stepped closer. “Please let him go. If you’re nice to him, maybe he’d teach me how to play hockey.”

  Ty’s eyes squeezed tight before his jaw clenched even harder. When they opened, they were tortured. “Holy frig, Louise. How could you do this to me?”

  Louise’s chest felt like it ripped down the middle. Pain like she’d never experienced before spread out in waves from the center. Her head hung down. She was the worst person in the world. She was only trying to do the best thing, the right thing, and it had backfired like a bomb in her face. “I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked.

  Her brothers loosened their grip, and Ty slid down the diner exterior.

  “You didn’t know,” Palmer spoke to Ty with wonder in his voice.

  “You didn’t tell him?” Sawyer asked Louise in a half-whisper.

  Louise lifted her head. Her eyes were burning, and her chest thumped with pain, but apparently, she could still feel anger because it blazed in dark shades of red across her vision. “This is why I was in a big rush for you to leave. My entire life has just exploded and is lying in a big mess in front of me. I want you two to just leave. Get out of here. I need to talk to my daughter.”

  Louise took several shaky breaths. She never spoke to her brothers like that.

  Ty hissed, and his cheeks bulged, but his lips pressed together. If she had to guess, she would have said that he was going to correct her. Tella wasn’t her daughter. She was their daughter.

  Chapter 13

  He had a daughter.

  Louise had a child.

  A little girl. His little girl. The kid didn’t even know about him, that he was her dad, and she was wearing his jersey.

  He’d never felt like this in his whole life. Like his head was going to explode. Like his chest was a whirlpool at flood stage, with everything swirling and moving, pieces and parts hitting against each other.

  He barely noticed Louise’s brothers leaving. If someone had done to Georgia what he’d done to Louise, he might not have left the guy standing when he walked away.

  Her brothers hadn’t known who the father was. Louise must not
have told anyone.

  His heart heaved as he thought of her alone and pregnant. She had another year of high school. That would have been torture walking the halls. Maybe she didn’t even graduate.

  He’d been oblivious. His mother had never said a word. Not a single word. She had to have known about Louise being pregnant and having a baby, but anytime she’d related the gossip of Sweet Water, Louise had been absent, other than mentioning she was valedictorian. His mother had said that much. Ty had always been listening for her name. He just figured Louise had left.

  His breath was shaky, and he felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, hovering above himself and looking down on his shocked and quaking body.

  Louise had her hand on Tella’s shoulder. There were tears on her cheeks. How many times had she cried, because of him, and he hadn’t been there?

  Tella was silent beside her. Her face was serious and an almost perfect replica of Louise. Except she had his darker blue eyes and the cleft in his chin. Her hair was his shade of darker brown rather than Louise’s golden blond.

  Vaguely, he heard Palmer’s pickup pull away with the stock trailer. Sawyer had walked down the street toward the park.

  “Why was everyone yelling?” Tella asked.

  Louise swiped at her eyes. “Everyone is okay. I just have some things I need to say to this man.”

  This man? He stepped forward but stopped short at Louise’s look. It wasn’t a heated look. More like pleading.

  “Can I still go to Uncle Sawyer’s house, even though you yelled at him?”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. And I’ll apologize to Uncle Sawyer. And yes, you can go. School starts next week, and this is the last time you’ll be able to stay for a while.”

  “Mommy?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  Tella slanted a look at Ty. “Do you know Mr. Hanson? Like, he’s a hockey player on TV, but he’s from our town. Right? You know him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he...good?”

  “Yes.”

  Tella closed the few feet between them, her little hand held out, her face a mixture of seriousness and suppressed excitement. “I’m Tella, and I’ve seen you on TV.”

  He closed his eyes and drew a breath before he bent down, taking her hand in his. “I’m Ty, and maybe I’ll get to see you again.”

  Tella’s lips moved up in a little smile. “Maybe.”

  She turned abruptly. “I love you, Mommy. Can I go with Uncle Sawyer now?”

  “Yes,” Louise said, her voice sounding pained.

  He wanted to throttle her and hold her at the same time. She’d had a baby, his baby, by herself.

  Tella took off, running down the sidewalk, her backpack bouncing on her back, toward Sawyer, who stood, leaning against a light pole, hands in his pockets, several blocks down. His casual stance didn’t fool Ty. The man was angry, and although he’d given them the privacy Louise had asked for, he’d not gone out of sight. Sawyer bent down and caught Tella as she flung herself into his arms.

  Louise’s brothers had stepped in and filled the void that Ty had left.

  Sawyer helped Tella into his old truck, throwing her backpack in the bed, before climbing in and giving Louise one last searching look. Louise lifted her hand. Tella waved back. Sawyer jerked his head. His pickup pulled out and rumbled by, with Sawyer giving Ty one last, hard look.

  Louise stood in front of him, her head down, her hands clasped in front of her, her fingers twisting. Like she was waiting for him to unleash on her.

  In a way, yeah, he was angry. But part of him, the bigger part, was aghast at what Louise had been through, what she’d given up, what she’d had to do. All because of him.

  And another part of him had already realized if she hadn’t done what she did, if she hadn’t kept her mouth shut and sucked it up and had their baby by herself, he wouldn’t be a professional hockey player, one of the best in the league.

  He didn’t know why she didn’t tell him. Maybe that had nothing to do with it, but he couldn’t have been a father, and maybe a husband, and still accomplished what he had. Just wouldn’t have happened.

  He owed Louise.

  “Why?” It was the first word he could get past his constricted throat, coming out in a scratchy whisper. “Why?”

  She squared her shoulders and looked up. “This was my secret.”

  “Obviously.”

  Her lips didn’t even twitch. “Of course, I didn’t know I was pregnant until you’d been gone a month.”

  That’s right. He’d stayed less than a week for his dad’s funeral and left without talking to her again, but she wouldn’t have known then, anyway. It was that last night, the night he’d fought with his dad, when he’d allowed his emotions to control him, and they’d gotten sucked into the void of heat and lust. Only that night. And he’d never spoken to her again. He couldn’t believe she was even talking to him.

  She hadn’t said anything more, so he made his mouth move. “I know. There was only the one night.”

  She nodded and looked away. Embarrassed, probably. But she didn’t need to be. Not for him. There hadn’t been another moment in his life that he’d relived so often or with such longing. She’d been beautiful. Sweet. And had ruined him for anyone else.

  Louise shoved her hands in her jean’s pockets. “There was never a question about whether I was going to have her. And I always wanted to keep her. But even at seventeen, I knew that I’d have to give up a lot.”

  “I would have helped.” He grabbed his hat in consternation before lifting it and shoving his hand through his hair.

  “At the time, I thought if you’d have called, I would have told you. But I don’t think I would have.” She looked up at him, her clear blue eyes meeting his. “I knew you would have to sacrifice, too. And I know that was a choice that you could make for yourself—how much you wanted to sacrifice—but I didn’t want to be your ball and chain.”

  He didn’t want to scare her, and he didn’t want her to run, but his arms ached. He stepped forward, taking her upper arms in his hands. “You’re not. You wouldn’t have been.”

  “When you didn’t call, and didn’t call, and didn’t call, and never came home, I couldn’t think anything else. Honestly, after you disappeared without contacting me, I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you to be a part of my life only because I had your baby. I wanted you to want me for me. Or not at all.” She clenched her jaw, her head tilted way back to look up into his face. “I know you had the right to be involved with your child, and I took your choice from you. I deprived Tella of a father, and I made the easiest choice for myself.”

  She was so beautiful to him, and she was hurting so badly. He could hardly stop himself from wrapping her up in his arms. “No one knew—your brothers didn’t even know—that I was the father?”

  “No one. I didn’t tell a soul.”

  “Why not?” he asked, but he was almost certain of the answer.

  “People might have made you come back. You might have been pressured, if not to marry me, then to pay child support. How could you do that?”

  He couldn’t have. He would have had to quit hockey and get a job that actually paid something. He’d have done it, though. He knew he would have. His dad’s guilt would have been hanging around his neck, and hockey would have become the penance. Louise had made sure that didn’t happen.

  “Everything I am, who and what I am, is because of what you did. What you sacrificed.” He couldn’t fight it anymore and moved his hands from her arms, putting his own arms around her and pulling her into his. She stiffened, and his heart stuttered. Then she relaxed, leaning her head against his chest and pressing her body against his. He closed his eyes against the sweet torture of having Louise in his arms again. He could hardly keep his hands still, wanting to run them over her back and through her hair, feel the curve of her hip and the changes nine years had brought.

  But he didn’t.

  He froze as her hand
s tentatively touched his waist. His breath blew out harshly as they slipped around, burning his sides and back.

  The fire that had burned so brightly between them years ago burned even hotter now. He couldn’t let it consume them again. Not after what Louise had been through after the first time.

  So he didn’t lower his head like he wanted, needed, to, didn’t wait for her face to turn up, didn’t touch his lips to hers like he longed to do. He didn’t lift her up, dragging her body up his and giving him better access to her mouth and cheeks and neck.

  He didn’t do any of those things he hungered to do but just stood on the sidewalk and held the woman who had made his professional hockey career possible.

  He tamped down all his other thoughts and tried to focus. “I owe you.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. We both know you paid and I didn’t.”

  “It was always my choice.”

  He didn’t want to fight. Not now. “I’d like to know my daughter.”

  “She’s your biggest fan.”

  “That you didn’t raise her to hate me is a miracle I can’t even believe.” His voice was rough. How had Louise watched her daughter wear his jersey, listened to her talk about him, and not hated it?

  Her eyes were clear and honest. “I couldn’t do that. But I didn’t push her toward you, either. She chose you.”

  He stepped back, putting distance he didn’t want between them, running his hands down her arms as they dropped from his waist, and grabbing her hands. “You could have influenced her, and you know it. I’m thankful for your restraint.” His eyes searched hers. “Be with me tonight. When you get off work, be with me.” He was begging, and he didn’t care.

  Her mouth opened then closed. “I promised Paul we’d go see whatever movie is playing at the theater tonight.”

  His throat closed in something like panic. He couldn’t lose her. Not when he’d just gotten her back. Not when she fit even better in his arms than she had the first time. He wanted to crowd her, stalk her, make her choose him, but that would only push her away. So he dropped her hands and stepped back farther. Suddenly he felt like watching a movie at the old theater tonight, too.