A Conard County Baby

“You could say the same about me,” she replied, without any humor at all. Unwed and pregnant. If she was here very long that would have to be explained to Angie. Given the dimensions of what had happened, she quailed at the very idea. It had been hard enough telling Cash, and he still couldn’t grasp it.

Come to that, neither could she. From time to time, in her battered heart and brain, a thought would rise up: something else was involved, something she didn’t know about. Something more than social standing, scandal and Scott’s bright future.

Because it was still very hard for her to believe that her parents thought more of Scott than of her. That they refused to accept that he could have raped her. That it was more important to bury something like that than to protect her. She hadn’t even asked to file charges against him. All she wanted was to end the engagement and keep her baby.

She almost put her head in her hands, but she had been doing that for too long. She had made good her escape, she was now employed, and while she still had a lot of wounds she was sure she was going to have to deal with, the important thing was to find a way to give this child a reasonably secure future. She could do that. After all, she wouldn’t be the first, or last, single mother in the world.

Cash spoke. “Frankly, my first thought was that an unwed mother was exactly the wrong person to look after my daughter.”

Her head snapped up. “Then I’ll leave.”

“Let me finish. I changed my mind. When the time is right, feel free to talk to Angie about it in whatever terms you prefer. It might be good for her to know that bad things can happen out there.”

Hope felt torn. Angie had confided to her about a restraining order, and as she heard those words it struck her that Cash hadn’t heard about it. Angie knew bad things could happen out there, although maybe not the depth and degree of some of them. But the girl wasn’t an innocent—certainly not the kind of innocent Hope had been at that age...or even more recently.

But she had virtually promised that she wasn’t going to pass along anything Angie said—with a mental reservation for anything that seemed truly important for Cash to know. She had to stick to that, and a restraining order from the past against someone who had harassed the girl’s mother didn’t fit that bill.

“It’s up to you, of course,” Cash said, apparently taking her silence as reluctance. Nor could she correct that impression because it was partly true.

“Well, something’s going to have to be explained to her before much longer,” Hope admitted. “My jeans are getting too tight. Before long I’ll be showing.”

“Well, I can take care of the jeans when we go see the doc.”

She shook her head. “That’s not right, Cash. I have about a hundred dollars, and some things can wait until you pay me.”

“Not the doc for sure.” He arched his brows at her. “Some things just aren’t right, Hope. Get used to it. I may not understand your family, but I know where my own values lie. Let it be, and let me do what’s right.”

A pretty remarkable man, she thought as she tried to help clean up after breakfast. Nearly everything was a new challenge to her, even filling a dishwasher.

That gave her some thinking to do. She had had no idea how much she had failed to learn simply by being raised in the lap of luxury. Her laundry list of ignorance was growing by leaps and bounds.

In fact, when she thought about it, she decided she had been raised worse than a prize filly and more like a hand-fed lap dog. How very humbling.

* * *

“I’ve got a few minutes before I have to get to work,” Cash announced when they’d cleaned up. “I’ll show you the barn, you can meet the horses and see where all the tack is. You can saddle your own horse?”

“I’m used to English saddles, but I can probably figure it out.”

He surprised her with a laugh. “English, huh? None of that around here. A pommel is too useful. I’ll show you. Plus, I guess I need to show you the right way to ride Western.”

“What’s the difference?”

“There are a couple of things. For example, we don’t use the horse’s mouth to guide it. No pulling on the reins.”

“Then how...”

He interrupted her. “I get the idea that I’m going to need to give you a lesson first. How about we saddle one up and I’ll show you? It’ll be easy enough once you’ve tried it.”

Hope grabbed her jacket and followed him to the barn. “I’m amazed. I lived in Texas but learned to ride English. I never rode Western. I never even thought about there being differences.”

He flashed her that devastating smile of his. “There are. But like I said, you’ll find this easy. We use neck reining instead of mouth reining, and we exert the rest of the control by shifting our weight in the saddle. In all, especially with the saddle spreading the weight out better, Western style is better for putting in a whole day. The horses don’t tire as fast. You’ll see.”

“But don’t you need to get to work?”

“This won’t take long. A couple of turns around the corral and you’ll have it. Angie got it pretty quickly. I just don’t want her riding alone for obvious reasons. If something went wrong and we didn’t know where she was, it could take a helluva long time to find her.”

“And she gets home from school today around four?”

“Yeah. Kinda late to take her on much of a ride. If you can persuade her, you guys could go out for a much longer time tomorrow.” He paused. “Are you sure you should be riding?”

“I had a friend who continued riding into her sixth month. The main concern was falls. Anyway, I promised Angie. I’ll be careful, just find me your laziest horse.”

Hope wondered how patient Angie would be since she’d sort of promised a ride. Well, she’d find out this afternoon. In the meantime, she still needed to learn where the tack was and how to do everything, from saddling the horses to caring for them after the ride.

And if there was one thing she was determined to make clear to Angie before they even started on this venture, it was that a rider took care of her mount. Period.

Hope might not know how to cook or clean or even do laundry, but she sure as heck knew how to take care of a horse. She’d have been off the equestrian team instantly if she had refused to do it.

Besides, she enjoyed it. Caring for a horse felt rewarding in a way trips to the gym and playing tennis never would.

The Western saddle was heavier than she was used to, and Cash expressed some concern about her lifting it.

“I’m pregnant, not sick.”

Another one of those smiles. Dang, the last thing she needed was for her heart to beat faster because a man smiled at her.

“I know,” he said. “But lifting... We’ll ask the doc. And about riding, too. In the meantime, just take it easy, okay? And do me a favor, don’t fall off. This mare is as gentle as they come, but...”

“Hey, don’t you want to thrill my family?” It was a poor joke, and she knew it instantly by the way his face darkened.

“No,” he said shortly, and became all business from that point. She guessed he’d become angry. She shrugged mentally. If she thought about it too much, she became furious. It was kind of touching that this man who had barely met her could already grow angry on her behalf.

Between her father and Scott, she had just about decided that all men were monsters. She might need to revise that a bit.

The differences in riding style were easy, as he had promised. She supposed sitting in the Western saddle acted as a reminder that she needed to change her habits. He was right, a few turns around the corral and she had mastered neck reining and shifting her weight in the saddle. Of course, he had selected a horse for her that probably was utterly patient and far smarter than any rider. That was okay, because she was pregnant and didn’t need a spirited mount that might get an urge to toss her.

A half hour later he left to take care of whatever his business was, and she walked back to the house looking ahead to a pretty empty day. Hours to fill before Angie came home, and unfortunately in her rush to escape, she hadn’t packed a lot of reading material. She had her ebook with her, but since her credit had been closed, she doubted she could buy anything else.

Simmering anger at her family made her stomach burn, but she was getting used to that. Shock had given way to acceptance, whether she liked it or not, but acceptance didn’t ease her anger. She felt like a soiled rag that had been tossed in a trash bin by the very people who should have stood beside her. It was not an easy thing to live with.

Then there was her reaction to Cash. She barely knew the guy, but she’d already raised him in her estimation to heights once reserved for Scott. That ought to be a warning to her. Even knowing someone for years didn’t mean you knew everything about them. Trust needed to be offered with great care.

Inside she found the housekeeper, Hattie, in the kitchen and introduced herself. “I’m Angie’s new companion, Hope.”

“Companion?” Hattie, who appeared to be in her early fifties, with graying hair and a motherly figure, scanned her from head to toe. “Good luck with that one.”

Hope hesitated. “Should I get out of your way?”