Montana Homecoming

by Law, Kim

  And he wanted to do that even while she sat there pregnant with someone else’s baby.

  He wanted to talk to her as freely as he had that weekend in April.

  “You’re right,” he admitted instead. He wouldn’t share his feelings, but he would acknowledge the truth. “I’m not sorry. Or, I wasn’t. Not then. But if my not returning your call hurt you in any way”—if his not calling was any explanation for her tears—“then I do apologize for that. Sincerely.”

  She didn’t have a response, and he let his gaze roam over her once again. But not in the medical way he’d done before. She was beautiful. Several tendrils of her dark-blond hair had escaped her hat, floating whimsically around her face, and her skin wore a healthy glow. She’d been gorgeous before, and pregnancy certainly hadn’t diminished that fact. And she absolutely wasn’t “fat,” as she’d insinuated. She was healthy and vibrant. She was filled with life, and she glowed from the inside. And the man who would be by her side during all of it . . .

  He brought his gaze back to hers. “Congratulations on your pregnancy. The father is a lucky man.”

  He spoke with honesty, not considering whether he had any right to say the words. Not caring if he had the right. But his words only made more tears roll down her cheeks.

  He wanted to reach out and pull her in. “What is it, Mags? What’s wrong?”

  She wiped at both eyes, and she inched her chin higher. Her lips pursed before she spoke. “The father doesn’t know about the baby, Cord. Not yet.”

  The words came as a shock. “Why not?”

  She hadn’t struck him as the type not to share something like that. She would want both baby and the man.

  He could picture her settling down with a husband and having several kids. Living in the house she’d bought earlier that year. Fixing it up together. It was yet another reason he’d made sure not to return her call. She wore that kind of persona easily.

  “Why haven’t you told him?” He pushed for an answer, though he had no right to do so. At the same time, while sitting there in his truck together, her eyes now locked on his, her hand moving in small circles over her belly . . . it suddenly felt like his business.

  It felt like he should have already known.

  The thought stirred another. One that filled him with the urge to quit pushing. To turn and run instead. Had he been wrong? Was she not due in the coming days?

  Fear seized him. She still hadn’t answered his question. She just sat there, silently watching him spiral. And the longer the silence lasted, the harder his heart hammered.

  He swallowed. Then he forced himself to ask the one question he never wanted to hear the answer to. “Who’s the father, Maggie?”

  “You are, Cord. You’re the father.”

  Chapter Three

  Cord didn’t move. Maggie’s words repeated in his head.

  You are, Cord.

  You’re the father.

  The urge to get out of the truck was strong. To get as far away from the moment as he could. He didn’t get out, though. He didn’t move. The snow continued to fall outside. The wipers barely able to keep up before the windshield was covered again. The house sat several hundred feet off the road, a long walk from where they’d stopped. And even if he did trudge through the wind and snow to reach it, he still wouldn’t be able to outrun this situation.

  He was going to be a father.

  Maggie was going to have his baby.

  He stared out the windshield, his gaze locked on the fat wet flakes visible in the path of the headlights, as he let both those sentences swirl through his head. Neither felt right. He didn’t want to be a father. He didn’t want anyone to have his baby. And he always did everything in his power to keep that from happening. So then . . . how had it happened?

  Another thought emerged. Maybe it hadn’t happened at all.

  Maybe she only thought it was his.

  He dragged his gaze back inside the truck. Given how she’d come on to him, it was highly feasible she’d done the same with other men. But how many others? And if that were the case, how could she possibly be sure he was the one who’d fathered her baby?

  He had to ask. It was the only hope he had. “Are you sure it’s mine?”

  Maggie’s mouth twisted into anger. “Seriously, Cord? You’re going to go there?”

  “Hey.” He held his hands up. “Any man would ask. I mean, we used condoms every time. And we used them correctly.” And he had no idea how many men she’d been with before or after him.

  She barked out a laugh. “Shouldn’t a doctor be aware that condoms can fail?”

  “That’s my point, Maggie. They didn’t fail.” None of them had broken. He’d never let himself enter her, nor even touch her that way, without protection.

  She pointed to her stomach. “I argue your point, Dr. Wilde. One did fail. Obviously.”

  They stared at each other then, her clearly annoyed at having her story questioned and him running through every possible scenario to make this not be true. And then he landed on an explanation that did make sense. And it was simple. He wasn’t the father, just as he’d thought.

  She just wanted him to be.

  He sat a little straighter, his mood growing dark. “I’m just saying”—he went for calm, though calm was now the furthest thing from his mind—“that maybe it’s someone else’s baby. Maybe you weren’t so careful with another man.” He couldn’t keep the accusation from his tone. “When, exactly, is your due date, Maggie?”

  Her eyes snapped fire. “My due date? January sixth, you jerk. Nine months after we were together. I told you I hadn’t been with anyone else. And I still haven’t.”

  He didn’t hide his doubt, and she quickly caught on.

  “You bastard.” She spit the word out. “That’s what that lying comment was about earlier? You think I was with someone else?” A muscle twitched in her jaw. “And what? You also think that I know that it’s someone else’s baby? That I’m just trying to pass it off as yours?”

  Her ire rose, her features growing as stormy as the weather outside, but he didn’t break eye contact. He did, however, wonder if he might have crossed a line. Something deep inside told him to back off. To apologize.

  He did neither.

  “I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind,” he deadpanned. “Because the fact is, I don’t actually know you. We spent one weekend together. And you came on to me. I don’t know what you did before or after that. What you could have been setting me up for.”

  Shock covered her face for three full seconds, and then hurt. “You son of a bitch.”

  She wrapped her fingers around the handle of the door, pulling at it before Cord could register her intentions. Then she turned faster than he would’ve thought possible and slid out of the truck. Her feet and halfway up her calves disappeared into the snow, but she stayed upright.

  “What are you doing?” He reached across the seat, somehow thinking he could grab her and pull her back in.

  “I’m getting away from you. I don’t want a thing from you, Cord Wilde. You can consider this issue a nonissue.”

  He growled under his breath. “Get back in the truck, Maggie.” The howling wind competed with his words. “You’re going to hurt yourself out there.”

  “I’ll get back in that truck with you when hell freezes over!”

  Her door slammed at the same time he jerked his open. Dammit. What was wrong with the woman? He reached her side of the truck before she could take more than a couple of steps away from it, but it quickly became apparent that she couldn’t walk in this mess. Two feet from the truck, she just stood there, white clumps of snow quickly attaching to her knee-length coat. She looked utterly lost.

  The sight had him gentling his voice. “Get back in the truck, Maggie.” He’d take her to her house, which was what he should have done to begin with. It was fifteen minutes away when there wasn’t a foot of snow on the ground, but he had four-wheel drive. He could make it.

  �
��I told you”—she crossed her arms high over her chest—“I’ll get back in that truck with you when hell freezes over.”

  His jaw clenched. “If you don’t get back in the truck right now, we won’t have to wait for hell. We’ll both freeze to death right here.” He opened and closed his hands into fists. He’d gotten out without gloves again. “This is not the time to be dramatic, Maggie.”

  “Dramatic?” Her eyes widened. “This isn’t me being dramatic, you asshole. This is me standing my ground. I am not lying, and I won’t sit quietly and be accused of such.” She pointed to her protruding belly. “This . . . is your baby. Like it or not. Not that I think you even deserve to know about it at this point. And no,” she went on, “before you even get the idea to suggest it, I did not want to get pregnant, nor did I do anything to damage a condom in order to trick you. My God.” She scowled. “What a piece of work, you are. No wonder you don’t do relationships. Because anyone in their right mind wouldn’t have you!”

  She kicked at the snow then, her cheeks as red as her temper was hot, and the movement caused her to wobble backward. Cord clamped a hand around her arm before she could tip over, but he didn’t offer any reply to her words. He couldn’t offer any because he had no clue what to say. Fear clawed at his chest like the jagged teeth of a bear trap ripping into animal flesh. Was she honestly telling the truth? He was going to be a father?

  Terror engulfed him. He couldn’t get mixed up with a woman in that kind of way.

  “We were only together once.” The words were lame, he knew, but his brain was still processing.

  “There were many times during that ‘once,’” she grumbled.

  “Yes, but . . .” He looked down at her. He was six two, and she couldn’t be more than five five, yet she looked even smaller. Almost tiny in the thick snow. She also looked legit. Like she was telling the truth.

  He knew she was friends with Erica and Arsula, Gabe’s wife and his youngest brother Jaden’s fiancée. And the two women thought a lot of her. They also cared a lot for her. That’s why he’d suggested she not mention the weekend to them back when it had first happened. He hadn’t wanted Erica or Arsula to think less of him for sleeping with their friend, but he also hadn’t wanted them giving Maggie a hard time for being with someone like him. But was Maggie the kind of “good” he could depend on to be honest about something this serious?

  Her outburst had certainly seemed sincere.

  Reality finally began to set in. He had to face this. “You really haven’t been with anyone else?”

  His question seemed to calm her. She shook her head, looking no more pleased than he. “I really haven’t.”

  “And this, I suppose, is why you were trying to get ahold of me over the summer?”

  She snorted at that. “I was not trying to get in touch with you to see if you wanted to bang one out again, Cord. I understood that wasn’t an option from the multiple times you mentioned it. So no, that never even crossed my mind.”

  For some reason, her not wanting to see him again bugged him almost as much as the idea of her calling because she hoped to pass the baby off as his. Which made no sense at all.

  He glanced at her stomach. The coat might be making it worse, but the baby seemed to be everywhere.

  His baby.

  Oh, God.

  His stomach roiled. He was going to be a father. He didn’t know what to do.

  He brought his gaze back up to Maggie’s. He did, however, know that he had to quit acting like a jerk. He’d gotten her pregnant, and within a matter of weeks, a baby was going to be born whether he wanted it to or not. And he had to figure out what to do about that.

  * * *

  Maggie sat in the front seat of the truck once again, the heat blowing on high and the wipers still slapping rhythmically at the snow. She watched as Cord shoveled a path to the door of one of the cabins at the back of the Wilde property. Once he’d finally seemed to accept the truth, he’d asked again if she’d get back into the truck, and she’d almost cried with relief. She’d been freezing out there. Not to mention, her ankles and feet were swelling so badly at this point it hurt to stand.

  He’d had to lift her onto the seat again, but that time, he hadn’t wasted a second before stepping away and closing the door. They’d both agreed that calling her brother could wait, as the two of them obviously had a “situation” which needed discussing, then Cord had suggested that the main house wouldn’t be comfortable enough. The temperature inside would have been turned low for the long weekend, and there wouldn’t be any furniture to sit on. Instead, Cord drove the few hundred feet past the house to the entrance with an arched sign overhead that read Wilde Cabins and Adventures.

  The Wildes had run a thriving cherry orchard for decades, but earlier that year, a fast-moving arctic blast had come through just as the trees were beginning to wake, and the sudden and drastic drop in temperature had destroyed the majority of the orchard. Since then, along with replanting a few hundred trees with plans to maintain only a portion of the orchard they once had, Cord and his five siblings had changed course, turning much of their land into a thriving tourist business. Step one had been the cabins—Wilde Cabins and Adventures. The business also provided a service to set up adventures with local and nearby companies for activities such as hiking, fishing, boating, and skiing. Or whatever the traveler had in mind.

  Ten cabins had been built and open for rentals over the summer, all overlooking Flathead Lake, and starting in the new year, weddings and events would be held on the property. That was also when the main house would have rooms for rent. Nate and his wife Megan had taken over management of the business and were overseeing all the changes. The excitement about the new venture had been palpable throughout town for months. Everywhere she went, someone was always talking about it.

  Maggie continued to watch Cord as he worked in the snow. He’d started at the porch, having found a shovel waiting by the front door, and was making his way to the truck. The porch light had also been on when they’d pulled up, and with it glowing behind him, she couldn’t clearly decipher his features. She could make out the snow piling up on his shoulders and head, though. It was coming down so hard he had to constantly swipe it off. But at least he’d put on a hat and gloves before getting out of the truck that time.

  He kept shoveling, focused like a man possessed, and she supposed he was using the time to sort through what he planned to say next. Or maybe what he would accuse her of next.

  She scowled. He’d infuriated her earlier.

  How dare he imply she’d try to scam him. And that’s where he’d been headed, even if the words hadn’t made it out of his mouth. He’d rather believe her the type to get pregnant by someone else and then say it was his, rather than him simply accepting that it was his. She’d known he wouldn’t like hearing the news, but she never would have guessed he’d balk at it so ardently. Or maybe he really did have that little respect for her.

  Her scowl darkened. That idea went against the memory of the weekend they’d had together. Not only had it been an excellent few days sexually, but she’d honestly thought they’d somewhat connected. Their time together had been easy and fun. It had seemed real. And no matter what she’d said when they’d been arguing earlier, deep inside, when she’d first reached out to tell Cord that he was going to be a father, she’d hoped the news might lead to more. That they could somehow end up together.

  She sure didn’t hope that now.

  She bit down on the inside of her cheek as she replayed their earlier conversation. She wouldn’t let what he thought of her affect reality. She was carrying his baby. Now they just had to figure out how to deal with it.

  What part would he want to play in his child’s life? Occasional father? Every other weekend?

  Would he be willing to be there during the birth?

  She attempted to push the last question from her mind as her heart began to thump harder. She was getting ahead of herself. First, he had to deal with the fact t
hat he was going to be a dad. And then she could broach the subject of the actual birth.

  Tears threatened again as visions of being alone in a delivery room flitted through her mind. Whether anyone was there with her or not, she could do this. She had to. And everything would turn out exactly as it was supposed to.

  She rounded her palms over the curve of her belly and focused on stopping the incoming tears. This was not where she’d seen herself at this point in her life. It wasn’t where she’d ever seen herself. A husband, yes. A good life, respect shared both ways . . . and maybe a baby. Possibly.

  But doing it alone?

  With neither her parents nor her brother even living in Birch Bay anymore?

  Six years after they’d moved, and she still couldn’t believe her parents had left town. At least her brother was only up in Whitefish. He visited occasionally and promised to do so more often after the baby was born. But that was after. She wanted someone to be in this with her now.

  A knock sounded on the glass, and she jumped, not realizing Cord had finished with the snow. He opened the door. “Want help getting out?”

  No, she didn’t want help. But she would accept it anyway.

  She held out an arm, taking his when he offered. When she’d jumped from the truck earlier, she hadn’t thought about how easily she could fall in the snow. But with the water retention and constant swelling of her ankles and feet, mixed with the growing depth of the precipitation, her mobility had seriously been impacted.

  They made it to the cabin without incident, him opening the door, then stepping back for her to enter first, and the thing she noticed almost immediately was that it wasn’t freezing inside.

  It also wasn’t exactly warm, but not freezing was good. It made her picture the shovel that had been left on the porch . . . and how the outside light had been on when they’d arrived. Either Nate or Megan must have prepared the cabin in advance.