Having The Rancher's Baby. Cathy Mcdavid
he added.
“Did you talk to him?”
“Naw. I just walked away. Figured it wasn’t any of my business.”
“Weren’t you angry at her for lying?”
“Heck, yeah, I was angry. She told a huge lie. One that was unfair to both me and the baby.”
“She must have been desperate.”
“That doesn’t make what she did right.”
“Of course not.”
“For the record, I’m not angry anymore.” But he hadn’t walked away from the relationship unscathed. In the nine years since, he’d yet to have a committed relationship. “Really, she dodged a bullet. I was twenty-one at the time and constantly broke. Hardly ready for a family or capable of supporting one.”
He doubted he was better father material now. It wasn’t just his occupation—a life on the road tended to be hard on loved ones. He was simply too much like August Dempsey. Selfish and unreliable.
“Are you or Josh going to insist I take a DNA test?” Vi asked.
Cole hesitated. This was a tricky question. He had every right to request the test, and it made good sense, considering what had happened in his previous relationship.
“Let me save you the trouble,” she responded before he could. “I have no problem taking the test as soon as it’s feasible.”
“Okay.” He leaned back in his chair. “Then I guess we can skip it.”
“We’ll see.” She lifted her chin.
She had a lot of backbone, not that he’d thought differently. It was one of the qualities he’d liked about her from the day they’d first met, right here in this kitchen, in fact.
“How about this? I’ll let you decide.”
“Aren’t you accommodating,” she answered flatly.
“Cut me some slack, will you, Vi?” Cole had his faults. Beating around the bush wasn’t one of them. “You’ve had, what, a month to get used to the idea? I’ve had maybe thirty minutes. The fact is, I’m not sure how I feel, what I think or what we should do. I need a little time. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”
He immediately regretted his small outburst.
Vi, however, reacted with reason. “Fair enough.”
“I can tell you that I’ll take responsibility for the baby. Pay you support.”
“All right.”
Was she mad? It was hard to tell.
Cole opened his mouth to defend himself, then promptly shut it. God, he sounded just like his father. Not his words so much. Cole remembered very little about his life at Dos Estrellas before his parents divorced. Rather, it was his attitude. August Dempsey had believed paying child support was plenty enough to do right by his sons.
“Are you planning on staying in Mustang Valley?” she asked.
“I rodeo for a living. I have to travel.”
“You aren’t now.”
“I’m not making any money, either. I need an income.” The ranch couldn’t afford to pay any of the brothers a salary. Not while the bills owed totaled more than the revenue. He and his brothers withdrew only enough funds to cover their living expenses, and Cole’s personal savings were almost depleted. “But I’ll return as often as possible. Every few months at least. And be here when the baby’s born.”
Vi turned her head as if she, too, were biting her tongue.
Was visiting every few months too infrequent? Cole had no idea of what a reasonable schedule might be. His father hadn’t made one trip to California and never offered for his sons to visit him. Every few months seemed like a lot in comparison.
A thought suddenly occurred to him. Vi might be expecting him to propose. Should he, or would that be rushing headlong into disaster?
“Can we wait a little while before deciding on the specifics?”
“Actually,” she said, “I agree with you. Another month at least. But not for the reason you think.” She paused. “I was married before. A long time ago.”
“No fooling!”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“No. Heck, no,” he added for emphasis. “You just never said anything.” Neither had Gabe or Raquel, not that Cole had inquired. “Were you married long?”
“Three years.”
“You must have been young.” She was only twenty-eight now. Three years of marriage plus “a long time ago” equaled early twenties by his calculations.
“I was. Young and idealistic and convinced we’d be happy the rest of our lives.”
“What happened?”
Cole discovered he was interested. Very interested. While they’d lain wrapped in each other’s arms, she’d told him about her first crush and having her heart broken in high school. Not one single peep about a husband. Ex-husband, he amended.
“Denny was a real sweetheart,” she said. “Our breakup wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t mine, either. We simply weren’t equipped to deal with the...problems we faced.” Her voice cracked. “Some people never are, regardless of their age or how much they love each other.”
Cole was tempted to take her hand again or run his fingertips along the curve of her cheek. He didn’t, not sure she’d welcome the gesture.
“I got pregnant and lost the baby. Then it happened twice more.” She sniffled. “Denny tried his best to give me what I needed. Love. Support. Encouragement. But it just wasn’t enough—my grief overwhelmed us both. When I finally recovered, it was too late for us. I’d lost him, too.”
“That must have been tough.” Cole hoped Vi saw past his lame response and realized how sorry he felt for her and her then-young husband. “No one should have to go through that.”
“I’m afraid of miscarrying again.” Her teary gaze met his. “Very afraid.”
Oh, the hell with it, he thought, and reached for her hand. “Who wouldn’t be, in your shoes?”
She didn’t pull away and, instead, squeezed his fingers. “I’m also afraid of losing what’s important to me again. That was the hardest part.”
Was she talking about him and their fledgling relationship? Apparently not, for she straightened and gently withdrew her hand from his.
“I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. I should know more then.”
“What time?”
“After lunch. Why?”
“Let me drive you.”
Her eyes widened. “There’s no need.”
“I’m the baby’s father.”
“And you didn’t bargain on that. I should have told you I wasn’t using birth control.”
“I shouldn’t have assumed and taken precautions.”
“Cole.”
“Vi, let me go with you.”
“Because it’s the responsible thing to do?”
“Because I want to.”
“People are going to ask questions or make assumptions. Especially Raquel. I’m not ready for that.”
“We’ll come up with a cover story. Stick with the stomach flu and say you’re too dizzy to drive yourself.”
After