Montana Homecoming

by Law, Kim

  “Hey.” The single word came out hard and clipped, and when Cord touched her under the chin, she realized she’d looked down at her lap. He shook his head. “You are going to be fine, Maggie. I’m going to make sure of it.”

  “How?” This time it was her with the hard, clipped question.

  His eyes begged for understanding. But she didn’t understand. How could he make sure of it?

  “You can’t say that, Cord. You won’t be there. You won’t be able to do anything.”

  * * *

  Cord didn’t let his own panic show. Maggie’s words were spot on. He wouldn’t be able to help. Even if things could be different and he did intend to be in his son’s life, he still wouldn’t be around for the delivery. He lived in Billings. She lived here.

  He knew that wasn’t what she needed to hear, though. And honestly, it wasn’t what he wanted to think about. But what could he say? He’d already promised something he couldn’t uphold.

  “Wilde family?”

  Everyone jumped to their feet except Maggie and Cord. They moved only so much as to glance over at the nurse who’d stepped through the door. His and Harper’s entire family now waited eagerly for news, but Cord couldn’t bring himself to his feet. How was he supposed to walk away from this woman? From the baby growing inside her?

  How was he supposed to protect them?

  “The babies have been born,” the nurse announced happily, “and they’re doing just fine.”

  “And Harper?” Nate and Harper’s mother questioned at the same time. Nate and Nick were twins, and Cord knew the minutes since the text had come in had been extra tough on him. When one brother hurt, the other always seemed to be in pain right along with him.

  The nurse nodded to both of them. “Momma is fine, too. She’s got two healthy babies snuggled up to her right now, and her smile is a mile wide.”

  The crowd sighed in relief.

  “And what are they?” Cord’s dad asked. “Boys or girls?”

  Everyone chuckled.

  “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to wait to find that out.” The nurse offered a mischievous smile. “Dad asked me not to share the info. He wants to announce it himself.”

  The nurse disappeared after several “thanks” were offered, and as the door swung closed behind her, Jenna turned to her dad. “So, they’re not going to tell us? How will we know if Pops got a grandson or not?”

  Gabe rested his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “We’ll find out soon enough, kiddo. Uncle Nick is excited. He didn’t want to let the nurse have all the fun.”

  “Well, that wasn’t fun at all,” Jenna mumbled, and Cord watched as his oldest brother picked his daughter up and propped her on his hip. He then slid his other arm around his very pregnant wife.

  “You’re right,” he told Jenna. “It was exceptionally boring.” He kissed the top of Erica’s head. “But sometimes, boring is exactly what the world needs.”

  Everyone went back to waiting, the level of chatter in the room inching to a higher, less-stressed pitch, and Cord returned his attention to Maggie. She’d scooted to the edge of her seat.

  Cord stood. “What do you need?” He held out a hand to help her. “I can get it for you.”

  She grasped his hand and pulled herself up, an annoyed look passing over her face. “If I need anything, I can get it for myself. Other than to get out of a chair alone, apparently.” She frowned down at the offending item. “But I don’t need anything. I’m going to get Arsula’s keys and take myself home.”

  The proclamation surprised him. “Why?”

  She shot him a look. “Because Harper and the babies are fine. Which is the whole reason I stuck around.”

  She grabbed her purse and coat from the seat beside her, and he shocked himself with the realization that he didn’t want her to leave. She’d been there along with the rest of them. Didn’t she want to see the end result?

  “You aren’t going to wait and see the babies?” he asked.

  “No.” She shook her head as she shrugged into her coat, and when her eyes briefly met his, he saw that they were red-rimmed.

  “Mags.” He took a step closer. It felt like he was missing something. Snagging her hands in his, he tugged until she looked up. “Stay,” he whispered. He could literally stare into her eyes all day. “See the babies,” he added. “Then let me take you home.”

  “I’m not family,” she whispered in return. “I don’t want to interrupt.”

  His hand went to her belly, his palm covering the most rounded part of her, and both of them instantly stilled. He stared at the spot where he touched. It was so inappropriate to put his hand on her like that. To not ask, but to instead simply “invade.” Yet he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. At the same time, she didn’t do anything to suggest he should remove his hand, either.

  “You are family,” he urged. He dragged his gaze back up to hers, finding that her eyes had rounded, making her seem as scared as he suddenly felt. “You are because of this one.” He nodded down to her belly to make his point. “Stay. Meet the new additions. At least learn if we have boys or girls.”

  The baby moved under his palm then, and he swore his world tipped sideways. He stared at her belly.

  “Cord.” She said his name so softly that he almost didn’t hear. And he most definitely didn’t want to look up.

  “What?” he replied, his eyes never straying from the baby’s continued movements. His breathing turned raspy.

  “Your entire family is watching.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The tick of the turn signal seemed extra loud as the truck slowed at the driveway. The silence had now stretched to twenty minutes, and Maggie wasn’t sure how much longer she could take it. Immediately following them getting caught with Cord’s hand on her belly—and with him standing far too close for someone who should be merely the brother-in-law of a good friend—Nick had burst into the room.

  He hadn’t been allowed to take anyone back to see the babies yet, not until Harper had been moved out of recovery, but he did have pictures and videos to share. The babies, it turned out, were both girls. Both in the high five-pound range. And both of them had already started trying to feed.

  Nick had been euphoric . . . and as Maggie had taken in all the excitement, she’d started crying.

  At the sight of her tears, Cord had slid his hand to the middle of Maggie’s back. He’d stroked along her spine, clearly intending to soothe, but his touch had only increased the tightness filling Maggie’s chest. Being in the middle of such a supportive family made her more aware of what she wouldn’t have when she delivered. Her brother had said he’d come down—but he could be working. And her parents lived several hours away. And even if they could get away from the demands of their guests in time to be there, she couldn’t imagine her mother willing to do so. Her mother hadn’t stepped foot in a hospital in twenty-two years.

  Maggie understood how unfair it was to let that bother her. Her mom had dealt with a lot. But what Maggie had learned in her twenty-nine years was that logic and emotions didn’t always line up.

  After sharing that the babies’ names would be Ellie and Emma, and once the entire group had gotten a peek at the pictures and videos, Nick had retrieved his cell phone and taken his proud self back to be with Harper. And that’s when Maggie and Cord had slipped from the room. They hadn’t given anyone time to return to what they’d witnessed before. Instead, Cord had nodded toward the door, silently asking if she wanted to get out of there, and she’d beaten a path out in front of him.

  Since then, there had been no speaking. And Maggie wasn’t sure what to make of that. Nor did she know what to make of whatever had been going on between them right before Nick appeared.

  Cord considered her and their baby part of the family? She wasn’t sure what that meant.

  He’d also touched her.

  He’d touched her belly.

  And he’d felt their baby move.

  She gulped in air
. Cord had left his hand on her stomach, the awe of feeling the baby moving obvious from the stunned expression that had washed over his face, and he hadn’t seemed to have a clue he’d been doing it right in front of his family.

  The moment had been almost intimate. Only, they’d basically had their entire world watching.

  She pulled in another deep breath. She had to know what all of that meant. Or if it meant nothing.

  The cabins loomed ahead, and nerves caused a hitch in her breath. She couldn’t let Cord pull up and her simply get out and go in. By the next time she saw him, he’d be acting like they were nothing more than neighbors again. Like nothing had changed. But it had changed. She could feel it. She just couldn’t explain it.

  “I’m sorry if I was in the way today.” It seemed a safe place to start.

  “You weren’t in the way.”

  “Good. I enjoyed being there.” It had been stressful, but she was glad she’d been a part of it.

  Silence returned when she didn’t say anything else, and Maggie held in a sigh. What was the man thinking?

  He pulled to a stop in front of her cabin, positioning the truck so the passenger door sat closest to the cleared path, and she peered outside. The sun was just about to set on the opposite side of the lake, but its long rays continued to surround them. The snow, usually so bright, glowed warm in the afternoon light. Long shadows from distant pines reached toward them. It was a peaceful spot.

  “I also apologize because your family is now going to know about the baby.” She slid her hands over the bottom curve of her belly. At least she couldn’t take all the blame for that one. Or . . . she couldn’t take the blame for the timing of it. Erica and Arsula had promised to hold on to the knowledge long enough for her to warn Cord. But now that they’d caught his hand on her . . .

  Well, someone was going to talk. There was no doubt in her mind.

  “They would have found out anyway.” At his statement, Maggie looked over. How would they have found out? She hadn’t planned to tell them.

  Before she could ask, he’d opened his door. He rounded the front of the truck, and by the time she’d gathered up her things, he was there. He always seemed to be there.

  He held out an arm, giving her a steady grip as she slid down, then he took her bag from her. “Do you mind if I come in?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Good. I’ll start a fire.”

  She hadn’t had a fire going since Nate built one when they’d moved her in on Sunday. Arsula had offered the night before, but then they’d dug into the food . . . and then Maggie had shared about Cord . . . and they’d just never gotten around to it.

  “I’d appreciate it,” she said now. “I love a fire.”

  “I remember.” He walked beside her, and the silence returned. Maggie gave up trying to fill the void. She could be silent, too.

  When they entered the cabin, as had happened the night he’d rescued her, Cord headed for the fireplace. The only differences from then being that he wasn’t furious and this cabin was decorated with bears instead of elk.

  She shrugged out of her coat, but then Cord turned back around. The fireplace behind him remained dark. Lines seemed to have been carved into his face.

  “What did you mean?” he asked her. “At the hospital earlier. You said ‘People come out changed, different than when they went in.’ You were talking about giving birth. What did you mean?”

  Oh, crap. She hadn’t realized she’d said that out loud.

  She shrugged. “You know, just that sometimes people . . . change.” She glanced away. Her mother had changed.

  “Like who?”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about this. Her past had come roaring back at her while she’d been sitting in that waiting room today. The day she’d thought her baby sister would be coming home. The look on her mother’s face when she’d returned without a baby.

  “Mags.” Cord said her name, his voice thick and heavy. It sounded like compassion. It sounded like he cared.

  Her hands started to tremble.

  “How can I help?” He came back over to her.

  “You can’t.”

  “I have to.” He stroked the edge of his thumb along her cheekbone, then used one finger to tilt her face up. His eyes held hers. “I can’t walk away and not try to fix this. That’s not who I am. And because it’s you”—he gave a sardonic twist to his mouth—“it seems I can’t just walk away anyway.” He offered a gentle smile. “You were having a panic attack earlier. Talk to me. I know what was going on with Harper was scary. Geez, I was scared, too. I was terrified, Maggie.” He whispered the last sentence as he leaned in close. It was as if he’d shared something he wouldn’t tell anyone else. “But it felt more personal for you. Tell me what had you so frightened.”

  Terrified, she wanted to correct him. Like he’d been. She wasn’t just frightened.

  She couldn’t easily bring herself to admit that. However, the concern shining back at her was daunting.

  Should she talk about it? Would that help?

  At the thought of sharing her fears, a feeling of comfort began to slip down over her. It was far from complete, but for the first time since finding out she was pregnant, she finally didn’t feel like she was in this alone. Not completely.

  “My mother.” She bit her lip as she pictured her mother on the day she’d had to deliver a stillborn baby. “I was talking about my mother. My sister was stillborn at thirty-nine weeks. My mom was devasted.”

  Shock registered on Cord’s face. “Oh, Jesus. I’m so sorry.” He wrapped his arms around her.

  She nodded, readily letting herself be swooped up in his embrace. She was sorry too.

  She clung to him, her arms wrapped tight around his waist and her cheek pressed to his chest. “It was unexplained,” she continued. “A total surprise. She hadn’t felt the baby move for a few hours but didn’t think much of it. She went in to see her doctor, and then . . .” Tears seeped from under her lashes, and she turned her head until her nose was buried against Cord’s sternum. “She was induced and delivered that same day. And when she came home, she’d changed. She suffered from severe postpartum depression for a long time, but really, the depression has never left her. She hasn’t been the same since.”

  Her mother had quit being the warm, loving person Maggie and Mason had always known, and instead had become a hollow shell of herself. If it hadn’t been for her father, and her grandmother before she’d passed, Maggie didn’t know where she and her brother would be. Her father had been their savior.

  “She loves us.” Maggie pulled back, wiping at her eyes as she looked up. “I do know that. And the bad times these days are far fewer than before. She does still struggle, though. As she has every right to. But I was seven at the time. I didn’t understand it. I just saw my mother go in to have a baby, and then my mother came home and no longer loved me.”

  “Mags.”

  “No.” When he tried to pull her close again, she pushed out of his arms. “Don’t. Now that I’ve started, I want to get it all out. I don’t want you thinking that I sit around stressing over a stillbirth. I mean, it’s in the back of my head, yes. But I also know the statistics. Today was rough because it was so real. It was scary, and it brought everything right back. But logically, I do know the chances of that happening are slim. Postpartum depression, though.” She made a face at the memory. “That bitch is different. And I can’t wipe that fear from my mind, no matter how hard I try. I could have a completely healthy, perfect baby boy, yet still come home changed. What if I can’t love my baby like I should, Cord? What if I can’t love him . . . yet I’m the only person he has?”

  * * *

  Cord stared in understanding. This was what ran through Maggie’s head all the time. She thought she might not be a good mom. She worried she couldn’t love their son. And then, he’d gone and pointed out that some mothers weren’t good. He’d all but implied she could be one of them. After refusing to be a part of hi
s son’s life.

  Arsula had been right. He really was a jerk.

  “I’m going to be there for him,” he blurted, and at her gasp, he reached for her hand. He needed to touch her whether she required the same kind of reassurance or not. He had to get out everything he’d been thinking on the drive home. “Don’t say anything yet,” he continued. “It’s my turn now.”

  He was squeezing her hand too tightly, so he forced himself to loosen his grip. And as he did, he noticed they still stood by the front door. He’d never built that fire he’d promised.

  “Let’s sit.” The fire could wait, but he had to get her off her feet.

  Maggie followed him to the living room, looking shell-shocked and a little unsure, and after she’d settled on the couch, he lowered next to her. He took her hand again.

  He wanted to be in the baby’s life. That thought had been pounding through his head ever since he’d touched his hand to Maggie’s belly. He wanted to be in the baby’s life. But he also remained one hundred percent terrified he’d screw it up.

  He couldn’t just walk away, though. And he didn’t know how he’d ever thought he’d be able to. Denial was a good friend, he supposed. As was fear.

  He’d let fear drive too much in his life lately. Maybe for much of his life.

  “I’m going to be there for him,” he said again, this time in a less forceful fashion. “I’m going to be in the baby’s life. If you’ll still let me. I don’t know how yet, or how much—this is all still pretty new—and no, it’s not because of what you just told me. Though, I do feel like an even bigger ass now that I know I’ve only added to your worries.”

  She opened her mouth, but he touched a finger to it.

  “It’s still my turn,” he reminded her. Then he couldn’t hold back another smile. He was going to be a father. He was going to have son.

  His life suddenly looked a whole lot brighter.

  He slipped his fingers between hers, twining their hands together. “I’ll be there for you, too, Mags. However I can be. I want to be there. But . . .” This was the part that wouldn’t be easy. It was the piece he really hadn’t figured out yet. “I can’t promise to make the delivery. I live in Billings. That’s a long drive. And I go back to work next week. You could have a short delivery, or it could drag out for half a day. I just don’t know. But I do promise that if you’ll let me know the minute labor starts, I’ll head this way.”