Probably a combination of both.
“So Baylee is in jail now?”
“Yes. We didn’t talk too much about that situation. What he knows is from talking to Nettie this morning, but he didn’t stay long either. Took care of everything for the DNA test, said a few words, saw Maverick and then left.”
“Kind of cold, don’t you think?” her mother asked.
“He’s in shock. He doesn’t want to open himself up to a child that might not be his.”
“What do you think?”
“I think the child is his and deep down he knows it. I’m making a list of what he needs to buy. I told him that and he appreciated it. He said he doesn’t even know how to change a diaper.”
“It’s not the only thing to worry about. Chance is a stranger to this kid.”
“He’ll still take better care of Maverick than what was being done. I’m going to take the rest of the week off and help get him set.”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself. You don’t even know the results.”
But she felt it in the pit of her stomach.
Mixed emotions.
A tiny bit of excitement just because it was a child and she wanted children.
A massive amount of fear that Chance was going to distance himself from her without even trying because he’d put Maverick first.
She wouldn’t let the distance happen and she hoped what she’d said to him sank in. If not, she’d keep saying it with as many anchors as she could lasso around him for them to take root and not be moved.
“I’m preparing myself for it,” she said.
“Don’t get stars in your eyes. That this is a ready-made family for you to save the day.”
“Please,” she said, waving her hand. “No way that can happen. This is an odd situation.”
“And it’s only going to get more complicated. Ask yourself if you want to get wrapped up in it.”
“I’m not leaving him alone to do this. He’s been alone most of his life.”
“Feeling sorry for someone isn’t the reason to stay with them.”
“I’m not doing that, Mom. I care for Chance. I told you I had feelings for him.”
“Are you falling in love with him? We barely got you to admit you were dating him.”
“I’m not sure if it’s love. I’ve felt that before and both times it’s ended poorly. This is different.”
“Different, how?” her mother asked.
“I can’t explain it. It’s fast. It’s urgent. The need to see him and worry when he’s at work.”
“Which job?”
“The firehouse. I don’t worry about him at the bar. Not that I think he’s flirting or anything like that.”
Which was funny considering his background and what had happened yesterday, but she remembered the comment between two strange women with her that one night she sought Chance out. That he was great for a night and nothing more because of what he did for a living.
Chance could see right through that and wouldn’t lower himself.
