The Convenient Cowboy

“Really? An adult woman didn’t put together that she’d had sex, then didn’t have her period? Pregnancy never came to mind?”

“Do I need to take her somewhere?” Spence asked, listening intently at the bathroom door. Silence. Had she passed out?

“If you think she’s dehydrated, yes. Otherwise, make an appointment as soon as possible.” Payson’s voice was coldly clinical. “You know it’s not your job to save her, right?”

“That’s your thing, Payson. I have a prenup contract with her, and it’s all about keeping Calvin safe. I’ll do whatever it takes. Right now, I’m married, and my wife is pregnant.”

“Not your wife, the woman who you talked into acting as your wife. Remember that.”

Spence hung up and stared at the closed door. He raised his hand, letting it hover there for a moment before tapping lightly. “Olympia, you okay?”

A choked “Fine” came through the closed door.

“Open up, so I know for sure.”

“No,” Olympia said, her voice stronger. Water ran in the sink, making the old-as-dirt pipes clatter. The house had been built by someone with enthusiasm but a definite lack of skill. Nothing worked well, and everything needed to be updated, including the bathroom.

“Let me get you some—”

The door opened, and Olympia stood there, swaying just a little, dark circles under her eyes, her lips bloodless. “I’m fine.”

“If by fine, you mean that you could audition to be one of the walking dead...” His heart beat hard in his chest. “We’re going to the ER.”

“Absolutely not,” she said, her knuckles white as her hand gripped the jamb, her jaw thrust forward. They’d been living together long enough for him to know what that meant. A boulder would be easier to move. A stupid part of him admired her grit. “You’re going to the doctor tomorrow.”

“I have an appointment.”

“For next week. That’s too far away. I’ll call from the office, and if that doesn’t work, then I’ll get Payson to call them.”

Olympia had just opened her mouth when crickets sounded from her pocket. She pulled out the phone and narrowed her tabby-cat eyes at him in an obvious this-conversation-is-not-done look. “Hey, Jessie, what’s up?” She took a small step from the door. He didn’t walk away. Her paleness worried him. He didn’t want to leave her alone until she was in bed or sitting on the couch. “Payson told you what?”

Apparently, doctor-patient privacy didn’t count when it was your brother.

“Yeah. That night. I can’t talk about it now. I’ve got to go.” Olympia shoved the phone into her jeans’ pocket and turned slowly to him. “You told your brother? We decided to keep it quiet until we worked everything out.”

“I called him for medical advice. I wanted to know about morning sickness.”

“Get that damned agreement out now because we’re going to hammer this out. I don’t want any more surprises.”

“You do know that eventually everyone will know you’re pregnant.”

“We’d better be divorced before then.”

He opened his mouth to tell her that if anyone really looked at her now, they’d know. He glanced down where her shirt stretched across her breasts. The generous curves had swelled to... She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. He said hastily, “I’ll get you toast and soda, then we’ll talk about the prenup.”

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Chapter Five

Pausing their discussion and moving to the kitchen had gotten rid of any sense of emotional connection, Olympia decided. She sat on the mismatched chair at the table she’d salvaged from a pile of trash left on the side of the road. She’d slapped a heavy coat of sunny-yellow paint on it, which had turned it into a blinding rectangle rather than a “sunny accent.” Maybe she should start buying women’s magazines rather than Barrel Racer News and Ranchers Monthly. The place still needed those homey touches that seemed beyond her. On the other hand, she had zero dollars to make it any better. On the third hand, she’d always lived with zero dollars. Would that ever change? She swallowed hard, heartburn adding to her misery. How could she even have heartburn when she’d eaten nothing?

“What?” Spence asked staring at her hard from where he stood at the cupboard.

“TUMS. I need TUMS.”

“Stay there. I’ll get them.”

Olympia fought to keep her head up so she wouldn’t knock it against the table, weeping. Because she felt like crap...all the damn—darn—time...and because her rodeo dreams and freedom from her never-ending, crushing responsibilities felt further and further away. Worse, she’d gotten harnessed to a man who would leave as soon as he got his son, no matter what he said about family. She knew how this story would end, with her holding a baby and watching him walk away—like every other man in her life.

He stood above her holding out the plastic container of TUMS. His dusty-blue eyes were marred by a shadow of worry and something she couldn’t quite name. She took the bottle, careful to not touch him. She’d learned in their weeks together that even brushing up against him made her shivery and hot. It had to be the pregnancy that had turned her into a heap of exposed nerve endings.

He produced a yellow legal pad from somewhere. She never imagined that lawyers actually used them.

“The current agreement is clear about how we’ll dissolve the marriage, but it didn’t take into account—” he hesitated “—a pregnancy, as you know.”

“I didn’t imagine being pregnant.”

“I know. That’s what we’re trying to address.”

She nodded and stopped as her head swam. Women actually wanted to get pregnant? Her mama had done this four times! If she’d had a different relationship—really, any relationship—with her mother, she’d call and ask when the sickness went away. Jessie had been pregnant once and was trying again, but because she’d lost the first baby, the subject was too sensitive to ask her for advice or even sympathy. “What did you say?”

“I said I want you to sign over full custody of the baby to me in utero.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want it to be clear that the baby is mine since its conception.”

“There you go again, getting all puffed up about your damned...darned swimmers.”

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