Aidan: Loyal Cowboy. Cathy McDavid
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he wouldn’t sacrifice for you and your baby, too.”
“You’re probably right.”
“He’ll insist on doing the right thing.”
“I’m not getting married, if that’s what you’re implying.” Flynn shocked herself with her vehemence.
“Why not?”
“Come on, Dad. I already have one disastrous marriage under my belt.”
“You didn’t love Paul.”
Just how much had her father observed? She’d evidently underestimated him for years.
“I did love him.” Not like she had—did—Ace. “In the beginning. We…” She hesitated, her voice thickening. These emotional highs and lows simply had to stop. “We drifted apart.”
“He ignored you.”
“Not always.”
“Almost always.” Her father snorted. “More interested in his job than you.”
Paul’s ambition was a quality Flynn had liked and admired when they first met. She hadn’t foreseen that his ambition would one day consume him. After a few years, it became obvious he knew his coworkers more intimately than he did Flynn and shared more with them. She grew to resent that same ambition she’d once admired and the endless hours he put in at the office.
“He wasn’t the only one at fault. I made my share of mistakes. I let him walk all over me instead of putting my foot down.”
Her father snorted again, his way of saying his girls were perfect.
Flynn smiled despite her weepiness. He may think she had nothing to do with her failed marriage, but Flynn knew better. She’d made mistakes, the first one being rushing to the altar.
She’d met Paul in one of her classes at community college; they hit it off and got engaged shortly after graduating. Flynn had assumed their similar career goals—to advance, to climb the corporate ladder—would bind them. She hadn’t anticipated their differences when it came to starting a family.
Flynn had asked him for a separation, hoping the shock would shake up Paul and force him to admit how much he loved her and wanted to stay married.
Only, what he’d said was, “Why bother with a separation? Let’s just get a divorce.” He’d packed up his belongings and left the next day.
“I’m not going to make any rash decisions,” Flynn announced resolutely. “This baby is too important to me.”
“Too bad about nursing school,” her father said. “You’d have made a good nurse.”
Flynn straightened. “I can still go to school. I’ll start the enrollment process now. Take online classes until after the baby’s born.”
She was going to be a mother. A single mother. Now more than ever she needed a decent job with security and benefits and potential for advancement.
“That’s an awful lot to have going on at once. Especially if you’re working, too.”
She would need to keep working. She couldn’t afford to pay for school otherwise.
Her temples began to throb. There was so much to think about.
“I’ll start slow. One or two classes.”
“Hmm,” her father mumbled in a tone that implied maybe Flynn should reconsider. “What about Ace? He’s going to want to be a dad to your child.”
“And he can be. Visit as much as he wants. Billings is only an hour away from here.”
Her father chuckled and raised his coffee mug in a toast. “Good luck with that.”
“What?” Flynn made a face. “I’ll be generous.”
“We’re talking about Ace Hart. The man isn’t going to want you to go anywhere, not with his child. He’s going to fight you tooth and nail and we both know it.”
Flynn hated it when her father was right.
Chapter Four
Ace fished his keys from his jeans pocket as he headed out of the barn.
Flynn had called that morning requesting he meet her at the old fishing hole on Thunder Creek when they were both off work. He’d agreed without hesitation, assuming she was giving him the chance to make good on the apology he owed her.
Now that he was about to see her, doubts crept in.
There’d been an unusual nervous quality in her voice. He hadn’t heard anything like it in ten years, not since he’d asked to meet her at the same fishing hole. His father had recently died, and Ace had informed Flynn it was over between them.
His thoughts returned to the auction five days ago. She hadn’t been nervous then.
Could she have changed her mind about moving and going to nursing school?
Even if she had, she wouldn’t insist on a private meeting in a secluded spot to inform him. There had to be another reason.
Like giving him the chewing out he richly deserved without any prying ears nearby.
He was about to start the engine when Gracie came running from the barn to his truck, one hand securing her hat to her head, the other one clutching a piece of paper. The single mother and only female ranch hand had worked for the Harts two years this coming May. She took a lot of flack from the men and repaid them by dishing out an equal amount, which earned her their respect. Ace liked her, too.
He lowered the driver’s side window, letting in a blast of cold air. Thunder Creek probably wasn’t the best meeting place.
“What’s wrong?”
“The blood work on Midnight just came in from the lab,” Gracie said in a huff when she reached the truck. “I thought you’d want to see it before you left.”
Ace grabbed the sheet of paper and quickly scanned it, his heart hammering.
He hoped to discover a cause for Midnight’s unruly disposition and aversion to people. In an attempt to eliminate any underlying medical reason, he’d put the horse through a battery of health tests, which only made him distrust Ace even more.
“Bad news?” Gracie had assisted Ace during the exams and had taken an interest in Midnight.
“No, good news.” Actually, the results couldn’t be any better. Like every other test Ace had conducted. “Everything’s normal.”
Which meant the horse’s behavior problems were the result of his genetic makeup, social environment or handling.
His recent handling, Ace thought, distaste filling his mouth. Midnight had successfully competed in rodeos for years before Wally Dunlap became ill and turned over the management of his string to a hired foreman. The only reputation Midnight had earned before that was giving cowboys record-breaking rides and producing superior quality offspring.
What had happened to trigger such a dramatic change in him?
Ace was determined to find out.
“Thanks, Gracie.” He handed the paper back to her. “Can you put that on my desk for me? I’m going to—” He paused. Gracie had been one of the people to see him and Flynn at the diner last month. “I’ll be back later tonight.”
“Sure thing, boss. Oh, and I forgot. Colt gave me a message for you. He left for the PRCA Championship Rodeo in Fargo and will be home on Monday.”
Ace’s fingers choked the steering wheel. He stopped squeezing only when he noticed Gracie’s gaze cutting to his hands.
When was his brother going to grow up, quit playing and do something more around the ranch than the least amount of work he could get away with?