Aidan: Loyal Cowboy

“Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault. Is Midnight okay?”

“Him? That horse is made of solid steel. You going to be able to work tomorrow?”

“Shoot, I’m tougher than that.” Duke served part-time as one of Roundup’s deputies under the recently elected sheriff—none other than Ace’s sister, Dinah. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I didn’t get hurt.”

“I mean your investment.” He hitched his chin at the corral. “You and your mom have a lot on the line.”

They did. Ace believed in his mother’s vision, which was that a secure future lay in their bucking stock contracting operation. To that end, she’d taken out a three-hundred thousand dollar loan, which he’d cosigned.

If they didn’t succeed, Ace could potentially lose his vet practice.

He’d worked too hard, sacrificed too much, for that to happen.

“I’ll drive the mares to the paddock,” he said.

“Forget it. I’ll meet Dad with the mares. You stay here and settle Midnight in.”

“Are you positive?”

Duke’s response was to head for the cab of the truck.

Ace shut the trailer door. After his cousin drove off, he retrieved two flakes of hay from the small stack he kept by the corral and tossed them in the feeder. Midnight started eating immediately, happy as a pig with his slop.

“I should have counted on you doing something crazy,” Ace muttered, disappointed with himself. When it came to horses, his instincts were usually right on the mark.

Midnight stopped eating long enough to give Ace a you-just-met-your-match look.

Yeah, he had.

Most stallions were unpredictable to some degree, as were many bucking horses. Midnight, as Ace was quickly realizing, verged on unmanageable.

What had happened to this fine animal in the past two years to so dramatically alter his personality?

Duke wasn’t the only one worried. Ace couldn’t help wondering if he and his mother had made a mistake, paid a small fortune in a stud horse they couldn’t handle and didn’t dare put with their mares on the chance he’d injure them.

* * *

FLYNN STARED AT THE PREGNANCY test wand. Just how reliable were these things?

Pretty accurate, she knew from working at the emergency clinic.

She could always go to the clinic, have the doctor administer a second test in order to confirm, but why? Her body had been telling her for days what the test wand in her hand confirmed: Flynn was having a baby.

She’d become, she realized with a sigh, a statistic. One night of lovemaking, and she’d gotten pregnant. What were the odds?

Considerably greater than with a couple who actually practiced birth control.

Flynn was no idiot; heck, she worked in the medical profession and witnessed the results of unprotected sex on a weekly basis. She could offer excuses. More than once she’d forgotten to take her birth control pill and hadn’t gotten pregnant. Her night with Ace had been spontaneous and they were caught unprepared. According to her cycle, it was a safe time of the month.

She moaned softly.

The fact was they’d both acted irresponsibly, and Flynn held the consequences in her hand.

No, carried them inside her. Setting the wand on the bathroom sink, she pressed a palm to her belly.

A baby! The timing couldn’t be any worse and, my goodness, what would Ace say?

She slipped the wand into her robe pocket and inspected herself in the bathroom mirror, tilting her head to the side. She was going to be a mother in, she mentally counted, about eight months! Thanksgiving time.

Did she look any different?

What had her own mother thought when she realized she was carrying Flynn’s older sister, Nora?

That a baby was the last thing she wanted?

Flynn considered calling Dinah, asking her friend to meet her after work. Flynn could use an ear to bend, a shoulder to lean on. But Dinah was Ace’s sister and the two of them were thick as thieves. Flynn couldn’t chance Ace finding out about the baby until she was ready to tell him. Until she’d decided on a course of action.

She’d have the baby, there was no question of that. With the possible exception of Ace, she hadn’t wanted anything more. Ever. Her way of compensating for her mother’s abandonment, she supposed, and Paul’s. His refusal to even consider having children for years and years into the future had been the final, backbreaking straw in their shaky marriage, ending with him walking out on her.

A baby. She still couldn’t believe it! The prospect petrified her. Wanting children didn’t necessarily mean she was ready to be a mother. It also thrilled her. This was a dream come true.

Flynn stumbled from the bathroom, the news of her condition, more than the condition itself, making her light-headed. She usually awoke after her father, so it was no surprise to find him in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee, nibbling on a piece of toast and reviewing paperwork.

“Morning, sweetie pie.” His tone lacked his usual enthusiasm and his smile its usual luster.

Who was she kidding? Her father’s smile had been mostly lusterless for months.

How to tell him about the baby? She longed to share her news with someone who loved and understood her. Dinah was out of the question and Nora, the next logical choice, would be in the middle of dropping her sons off at day care on her way to work. Forget calling her mother. Flynn wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.

She reached for the pot of coffee on the counter, then stopped. Returning the mug to the cupboard, she grabbed a juice glass instead. Caffeine wasn’t good for the baby. Orange juice, however, very good.

“What are you looking at, Dad?”

“This is a listing agreement with the real estate agent I hired.”

“Really?” She sat at the table. “When did you talk to him?”

“Her. And it was yesterday. We met while you were at work.”

Well, he’d certainly moved quickly. He’d only just announced to the Harts on Saturday he was selling everything and getting out of the business. Today was Tuesday.

“Are you going to sign it?”

“Already did.” He held up the agreement for her to see. “Just reviewing it and making notes.”