Having The Rancher's Baby

She nodded, examining the toast before taking another bite.

“Too done for you?” he asked.

“It’s perfect.”

“I pride myself on my toast. That and heating canned soup are my specialties.” He offered her a grin.

She sighed. So much for his stab at humor.

“Fortunately for me,” he continued, “Raquel’s a wizard in the kitchen. If not, I’d starve.”

At the mention of his late father’s longtime companion, Vi become even more quiet. Cole didn’t ask why. The Dempsey family dynamics were unusual to say the least and gave him his own share of somber moments.

Odd as it might seem, Cole liked Raquel, though he had plenty of reasons not to. She’d been his father’s mistress for over thirty years, living with him the last twenty-five. She was also the reason Cole’s father had cheated on, then divorced, his mother. The reason he’d ignored his two legitimate sons for most of their lives in favor of their half brother.

But Raquel was kind to Cole and Josh and doted on Josh’s two children, whom she regularly babysat. She insisted on cooking big breakfasts and dinners every day, which the entire family shared, sparing Cole from relying on his own pathetic culinary skills.

She also wasn’t responsible for his father’s actions. August Dempsey had made his own choices. At any time, he could have reached out to his sons and included them in his life. As far as Cole was concerned, the blame lay entirely with his father.

It had been six months since he and Josh had returned to Dos Estrellas, and they were still struggling to find their places. Josh was doing a better job of fitting in than Cole, undoubtedly because he’d met and fallen in love with Cara, a family friend of Raquel’s.

He also didn’t resent their father to the degree Cole did. Josh’s heart was unencumbered and free to love. Cole’s was weighed down and locked tight.

Vi finished her toast and propped an elbow on the table.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything.” She let her hands drop to her lap. “I think Raquel might have figured out I’m pregnant.”

“She’s pretty observant.”

“So are you, apparently.”

“Not really.”

“You guessed easily enough.”

“Well, about that.” At her raised brows, he admitted, “I wasn’t entirely honest with you earlier.”

“You don’t have a friend whose wife was pregnant?”

“That part’s true. He’s a good friend of mine.” Cole shifted. “There was this other pregnant woman.”

Vi stared at him pointedly. “My, you get around.”

He immediately regretted opening his mouth. She might not appreciate this story. “It was a long time ago and doesn’t matter.”

“Then why not tell me?”

Talk had flowed easily between them the night they’d spent together. He’d revealed things about himself only his brother knew. How Cole’s anger at his father, and his mother’s bitterness, had tainted his entire life, prompting him to leave at eighteen and pursue a career in rodeo. The hardships endured during his years on the circuit. The rewards, which were few and far between.

Opening up to her now shouldn’t be so difficult. Yet it was. That night, Vi hadn’t been pregnant with his child. She’d been a woman he was attracted to and wanted to become better acquainted with. A woman he genuinely liked.

And because he liked and respected her, he supposed he owed her the truth about the kind of man she’d gotten herself tangled up with.

“I once dated a woman who was pregnant.”

Violet gasped softly. “You have a child?”

“No.” He shook his head. “She said the baby was mine, and I believed her. After about two months, I found out she was lying.” It happened when he’d almost reconciled himself to the prospect of becoming a father. “Another cowboy was the dad. Seems when he left her high and dry, she went after me. I’d asked her out a few times before, which I suppose made me an easy target.”

“How did you find out?”

“Josh and I were competing at the Frontier Days Rodeo, and one of my buddies clued me in. I told Josh, and he insisted I have a DNA test done before I committed to anything. When I suggested the test, she was furious at first, then came clean.”

“What happened to her and the baby?”

“I saw her only once after we broke up. It was a few months later. She was with another cowboy. Not the baby’s father,” 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 a moment, she relented. “Okay, you win.”

“This isn’t a contest.”

“Sorry. I’m still getting used to this, too.”

He smiled. “That offer to follow you home still holds.”

“I’m better now,” she insisted. “Why don’t you return those steers to the pasture?”

He decided to follow her, anyway.

They left the ranch house by the kitchen door and walked to the horse stables, where Vi had parked her truck.

Before they parted, he said, “Call or text me later to let me know you’re okay. Humor me,” he added, when she started to object.

True, Cole was still grappling with impending fatherhood, but he had no doubts of his fondness for Vi or his concern for her well-being. He’d also bet money she harbored a similar fondness for him.

With luck, it might be enough to get them through the coming months, or possibly years.

* * *

VIOLET PASSED THE clipboard holding her completed medical forms over the counter to the receptionist, along with the pen she’d used.

“Do you have your insurance card?” the woman asked, more efficient than pleasant. She accepted the card Violet gave her and made a copy before returning it.

“You have a thirty-dollar co-pay,” the receptionist informed her. Once the transaction was complete, she said, “Go ahead and take a seat. We’ll call you when we’re ready.”

Violet didn’t ask how long that might be. She’d been seeing Dr. Medina for eight years, long before her first pregnancy. In all that time, nothing in the office had changed. Not the neutral decor, not the generic furniture and definitely not the long wait times. Even the vase of silk flowers on the reception counter was the same.

On second thought, there was one big difference, and he sat in the corner, cowboy hat balanced on his lap. Every few seconds, one of the other two noticeably pregnant patients cast him a glance. An admiring one.

Understandable, Violet supposed. Cole had cleaned up for the appointment, donning what appeared to be a fairly new Western-cut shirt and his best jeans. He looked...handsome. She could admit that. Much the same as he’d looked that night in the Poco Dinero Bar when he’d sauntered over and joined her at the table she shared with her friends, the local grain supply rep and his wife.

Heaving a sigh, Vi plunked down in the chair beside Cole and propped her purse in front of her. If she was hoping to use it as a shield, she’d need something a lot bigger. A thick panel, maybe. Or simply distance.

She could quite literally feel him. Violet wasn’t a romantic and, thanks to her parents’ three-decades-long miserable marriage, she didn’t subscribe to the theory of soul mates. But there was something about Cole that caused her to be acutely aware whenever he was in the same room. The sensation intensified when they were close and, she was certain of it, accounted for her weakness that night in the bar.

He was a competent dancer. Quite good, actually. She hadn’t expected him to smoothly glide her across the crowded dance floor. Neither had she expected her insides to melt when he held her tight during the slow numbers.

She’d been prepared for nothing more intimate than a good-night hug in the parking lot at the end of the evening, but Cole had had other ideas and pulled her into his arms for a kiss.

An amazing kiss. Surprised at first, she’d quickly surrendered. Apparently, she’d invited him home, because the next thing she knew, they were both in the backseat of her friends’ SUV, the lights of town passing by in a blur.

It was while she’d driven him to his truck the next morning that they’d talked and mutually agreed to forget what had happened.

Wait a minute. That wasn’t quite accurate. She’d done all the talking. Cole had gone along with her without adding much to the conversation.

“Everything okay?” he suddenly asked.

“Just waiting my turn.”

“How much was the co-pay? I’ll reimburse you.”

At least he had the decency to speak in a low voice. “Can we talk about this later?”

“I’m paying,” he answered, his tone implying there’d be no further discussion.

She stood up, strode over to the periodical rack and grabbed a magazine on pregnancy. Years ago, she’d subscribed to this same one and had saved the back issues, storing them in a credenza drawer. After the third miscarriage, she’d burned every copy in her backyard fire pit.

Returning to her chair, she began flipping the magazine pages, barely noticing the ads and articles.

What had she been thinking, agreeing to let Cole accompany her? She was tired; that must be it. And sick. She’d been in no physical condition to put up a fight. Though today she actually felt pretty good and had managed not to lose her breakfast or her lunch.

She sneaked a glance at him, certain he had nothing whatsoever to do with her improved health.

“Would you like me to come with you?” he asked.

“Into the exam room?” She drew back in alarm. “Absolutely not.”

He tensed.

All right, she’d overreacted. But if the doctor delivered bad news, and that was a distinct possibility, Violet didn’t want Cole there to witness her emotional breakdown.

What if the doctor delivered good news? She was two months along, after all. Well, then she’d relay the information to Cole and they’d continue as they’d previously decided, not telling anyone until she reached her second trimester.

Even then, she’d insist on informing only close family and friends. Violet refused to take chances. Most people, though kind and well-intentioned, didn’t have a clue about what she was going through. Their sympathy when she’d miscarried had worsened her grief rather than relieved it.

“Perhaps another time,” she offered by way of apology.

“Next time,” he countered.

His response thoroughly rattled her.

A quick check confirmed the one remaining patient was occupied with her phone and not paying them any attention.

“I thought you said you haven’t figured out what to do yet. But you’re planning to come with me to every appointment?”

He bent his head close to hers and spoke softly, yet deliberately. “I’m concerned about you and your health.”

“Pardon me, but I’m confused.”

“Not to steal your words, but can we talk about this later?”

“Fine.” She went back to reading the magazine.

They waited another fifteen minutes when a nurse finally appeared in the doorway leading to the exam rooms. “Ms. Hathaway? This way, please.”

Violet stood and would have gone if not for a gentle tug on her hand. It was Cole.

“Good luck.”

Her insides melted, just as they had on the dance floor. For a moment, she wished he was concerned about more than her health. Enough to reconsider his plans of returning to the rodeo circuit.

He continued to occupy her thoughts as she walked down the corridor, throughout her weigh-in and blood pressure reading and when the nurse left her alone to change into the paper gown.

What kind of father would Cole make? He wasn’t always caustic and abrupt. When he wanted, he had the ability to be sweet and tender and so very charming. She’d been the recipient of those qualities before and had basked in them.

If only their circumstances were different. What then? Dating? Moving in together? Getting married? Violet wasn’t sure she wanted any of that. They really didn’t know each other well.

Once under way, the exam progressed quickly. Violet found herself watching and listening intently to Dr. Medina for even the tiniest indication that something might be wrong. There was none. The other woman remained chipper throughout the exam, telling Violet that all was well and exactly as it should be.

“Ready for a peek at your baby?”

Her words startled Violet, and she almost refused “Yes. I am.”

“Because your pregnancy is high risk, we’ll be doing a transvaginal ultrasound today.” When the probe was in place, Dr. Medina pointed to the monitor screen at Violet’s right. “There’s your baby.”

She adjusted the volume, and Violet heard a rapid beat matching the small pulsating heart visible in the middle of the fetus. All at once, she started to cry, unable to stop herself. She hadn’t been far enough along during her other pregnancies to hear or see the heartbeat.

Dr. Medina smiled sweetly and handed Violet a tissue, her curly silver hair framing her face like a wreath. “Try not to worry too much. It won’t do you or the baby any good.”

Violet wiped at her tears. “It’s hard not to worry.”

“I’d like to see you in two weeks.”

Immediately, Violet feared the worst. “Is something wrong?”

“Not at all. Just a precaution.” Dr. Medina returned the probe to its holder. Next, she pressed a series of buttons on the ultrasound machine and printed a picture, which she gave to Violet. “Next month, when the baby’s bigger, I’ll send you to the imaging center for a more comprehensive ultrasound. They’ll make you a CD.”

Violet clutched the picture to her chest. She liked the sound of “next month.”

Dr. Medina helped her to a sitting position, her hand remaining on Violet’s shoulder to comfort her. “Call me if you have even the slightest cramping.”

“All right.” Violet had already programed the doctor’s number into her phone’s speed dial.

“Remind me again—you work at a cattle ranch, right?”

“Yes.”

“Outdoors?”

“Almost always.”

“And very physical.”

“Comes with the territory.” There’d been times when the demands of her job had been an escape for Violet. A cure for her various woes. Miscarriages. Failed marriage. Parents always arguing and trying to coerce her into choosing sides.

“I’m recommending you take it easy,” Dr. Medina said. “Rest every day, and by rest I mean lying down, for at least two to three hours. Absolutely no lifting and no strenuous activities. That includes horseback riding.”

Violet instinctively pressed a hand to her belly. She’d do nothing that might harm this baby. “I’ll talk to my boss. Bosses. I have some vacation time coming. Maybe I can work something out.”

“Sitting at a desk is fine, and I encourage you to walk. Exercise is beneficial as long as you don’t go overboard.”

They talked awhile longer about diet and prenatal vitamins and various dos and don’ts, most of which Violet already knew. Dr. Medina didn’t mention the baby’s father, though she was aware of Violet’s divorce.

Violet bit back the urge to inquire whether having a different father would improve her chances. They’d never figured out the cause of her miscarriages. Perhaps it had been genetic.

“See you in two weeks.” Dr. Medina closed the door behind her when she left.

Violet took a moment to say a quiet prayer of thanks before climbing off the table and getting dressed. Her legs wobbled and her knees shook, as much from relief as nerves. In the waiting room, Cole glanced up when she entered, then stood nearby while she scheduled her next appointment with the receptionist.

“Do you need a reminder card?”

“Yes, thank you.”

The woman completed the card and handed it to Violet, her eyes on Cole and filled with questions. She’d worked there for years and probably remembered Denny.

Violet tensed. It wasn’t anyone’s business who came with her to her appointments.

Cole didn’t bring up her exam until they were on the road. “How did it go?”

She proceeded to tell him the basic details, but to her horror, started crying again when she got to the part about the ultrasound.

Cole reached across the console and took her hand. “I bet that was pretty neat to see.”

Damn. Why did he have to be so nice?

“I have a picture. I’ll make you a copy.” She felt another sob coming on and countered it with a change in subject. “I need to set up a meeting with you and your brothers. As soon as possible. It’s about my job.”

Chapter Three

Cole pressed on the clutch and manually shifted the tractor into second gear. It was a John Deere, circa 1990, and groaned like a grumpy old man before the wheels finally gained traction. Hooked behind the tractor was a flatbed trailer loaded with hay. Cole turned the steering wheel hard to the right and chugged in the direction of the horse stables.

He was in charge of today’s afternoon feeding. The job normally fell to one of the hands, but they were working with a skeleton crew today, in part because of Vi’s absence. She’d taken off early to rest—something only Cole knew about—and to prepare for their five-thirty meeting.

She’d requested to speak with all three brothers. Again, Cole alone knew her reasons. She planned to tell them about her pregnancy and then request a modified work week that included fewer hours and light duty.

The meeting was scheduled for the only time Josh and Gabe were available—right before dinner. Nowadays, the demands on both men were many, and they were frequently gone from the ranch.

Josh had full custody of his two children while their mother, fresh from a sixty-day stint in drug rehab, proved her ability to remain sober. He and his girlfriend, Cara, were in the market for a new house and went out looking every chance they got. Cole expected the two of them to announce their engagement any minute, which was fine by him. He liked Cara. She made Josh happy and loved his children.