Aidan: Loyal Cowboy. Cathy Mcdavid

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Aidan: Loyal Cowboy - Cathy Mcdavid


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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?

      No, that would make things easier on Ace, and Colt was all about himself.

      “See you in the morning.” Ace started the engine. “Call me if there’s a problem with Midnight.”

      Grace hurried off in the direction of the barn and Ace’s office.

      He drove away, his focus changing from his brother to Flynn and their meeting.

      The road to the old fishing spot was bumpy and winding and overgrown. Piles of unmelted snow and soggy patches made the driving treacherous. Ace hoped Flynn had borrowed her father’s truck and not brought her compact car.

      She was already waiting for him when he arrived—her father’s pickup parked with its left front wheel resting on an incline. The roar of furiously rushing water filled his ears as he picked his way down the slope. Barren brush snagged his pant legs. Come summer, when the snow had long melted, the river would once again flow lazily and the woods be overgrown with thick, lush greenery.

      Flynn sat near the bank on the trunk of an overturned pine tree, a recent casualty of their hard winter. She held her spine rigid, as if bracing for the worst. Did the prospect of seeing him fill her with that much dread?

      For the thousandth time, he wished he could return to that morning weeks ago.

      “Hi.” He spoke softly so as not to startle her, though she’d surely heard his boots crushing twigs and scraping across rough ground.

      She swiveled to face him, watching him descend the last few feet. “Hi.” She smiled weakly. “Thanks for coming.”

      He lowered himself onto the tree trunk beside her, choosing it over the boulder which sat twelve feet away. Their thighs brushed momentarily before she scooted sideways to accommodate him, but not before a rush of heat shot through him.

      “You okay?” he asked, curious if she felt the same heat.

      “Fine.” She held her clasped hands in her lap, their pale color matching her cheeks.

      No heat rushing through her.

      “Flynn, whatever you need. I’m here for you.”

      “This is difficult.” She swallowed. Fidgeted. “I really hope you’re not angry with me.”

      “There’s nothing you can do to make me mad.”

      “You say that now.”

      “If anything, you should be mad at me. I’m really sorry for the way I bailed on you. There was no excuse for it.” Not a good excuse, leastwise. Losing his nerve was a poor reason if Ace had ever heard one. “I can’t tell you how much I regret it. The leaving. Not…the night. Us.”

      He needed to shut his mouth before he said something more stupid than he already had.

      She exhaled a shallow, thready breath. “You’re not making this easy.”

      “Just tell me. What’s wrong?”

      She stared at the river with its pockets of foaming white water.

      Was she, like him, remembering all the times they’d come here when they were dating? They’d fish for hours without talking much. If the evenings were especially sultry and the stars out in abundance, they made love.

      “I really wish things were different,” he said, his fingers inching toward hers. “That I didn’t have so much going on.”

      She stiffened. “Or, what? You’d ask me out?”

      “Yeah, I would.”

      “I’m pregnant.”

      Ace’s hand went still, then fell to his side. “Wow.”

      “It was an accident. I didn’t plan it. You have to believe me.”

      “I do.” Their night together had been as spontaneous as it was amazing. “We failed to use birth control. It’s my fault more than yours.”

      Of all the times in Ace’s life for him to slip up and be irresponsible.

      Look what happened. Flynn was pregnant.

      Ace concentrated on breathing, on forcing air into his collapsed lungs.

      “I went to the doctor yesterday,” she said. “She told me everything’s fine. Progressing right on schedule.”

      “That’s good.”

      “You’re upset.”

      “I’m surprised is all. Give me a minute.”

      He’d always wanted children. It had been a frequent topic during their long-ago fishing trips. Just not yet. Later, when his vet practice was established and the new breeding business was running smoothly. When he didn’t have a quarter-of-a-million-dollar loan hanging over his head.

      “I realize the timing isn’t great.”

      Flynn had been reading his mind.

      “I’ll support you and the baby in every way. Financially. Emotionally.”

      “I’m going to apply for a student grant. That should—”

      “You’re not still moving to Billings?”

      “My plans haven’t changed.”

      “Well, they need to change. This is my baby, too.”

      “I realize that family is important to you. How could I not?”

      She was referring to when they broke up ten years ago.

      “After my dad died, I didn’t have any choice. I needed to finish school and help Mom run the ranch. There wasn’t anybody else to do it.”

      “So you said. Countless times.”

      “Tuf joined the Marines. Dinah was trying to turn her life around. Colt decided he’d rather be on the road than at home. What was I supposed to do?”

      “Exactly what you did.”

      “We were nearly broke, thanks to my dad.”

      A surge of anger from years earlier resurfaced, stifling Ace. How could his father have been so careless with the ranch?

      Easy. Alcohol had clouded his judgment.

      “You’re right, your mom needed you.” Flynn rubbed her temples. “I didn’t mean to dredge up the past.”

      “I want to be an active father. Change diapers. Take the 3:00 a.m. feeding. Rock him or her to sleep.” Ace wasn’t sure where this spontaneous paternal drive came from, only that the baby mattered greatly. “I can’t do those things if you’re in Billings.”

      “Like you said, you have an awful lot on your plate right now.”

      “This is my child. You have to stay.”

      “Billings isn’t far. You can visit. Often.”

      “I’m not driving an hour to see my child.”

      “Once Dad sells the ranch and moves, there’s nothing keeping me here.”

      Was


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