Then we spent the night in the bed of his truck under the stars.
It would’ve been romantic if it weren’t for the fact that I returned to my dingy apartment in Albuquerque and found out I was pregnant three months later.
And I never got his name.
It’s still the biggest regret of my life. I don’t know anything else about him other than the fact that he isn’t from the area and that he had a brother. Our late-night conversation still had a tinge of alcohol disfiguring the memory, and all I remember now is the shape of his smile and the hint of dimples when he laughed.
Could my Las Vegas husband be him? I’m not sure.
What are the chances?
Sighing, I shake my head. “For now, I’m letting that theory go,” I reply, shoulders slumping. “My priority is the annulment.”
Winnie pats my knee before rising. “Well, you still have a long drive ahead of you,” she says. “Why don’t I make you an iced latte for the road while you say goodbye?”
Tears sting my eyes, throat suddenly tight with emotion. I barely give her a nod as I stare down at Christopher. “I won’t be gone long,” I whisper, running my fingers over his tuft of dark hair. I can’t tell if he gets it from me or his father. My boy is a mix of us both, and when he smiles…
When he smiles, all I see is the cowboy with the dimples.
“Don’t go doing anything while I’m gone,” I add, voice trembling. “No developing, okay?”
Christopher babbles something incoherent, but I’ll take it as confirmation he won’t suddenly start speaking or walking, neither of which are even possible.
He’s only just now sitting up on his own, even making moves to crawl. At seven months, it’s hard to think he’s not still that same newborn I carried out of the hospital on my own, with only my sister beside me.
At first, I hadn’t even been sure if I should keep him or give him to a family who could love and provide for him in the way he deserved. But then I held him, and I listened to him cry. My resolve cracked, but I still had doubts.
Was I ever going to be good enough to be his mom? Could I give him a life that supported him—and myself?
And then there’s the question of his father. What if I gave Christopher up, only for his dad to reappear and want a relationship with our son?
I wouldn’t change it for the world now that I have him. Now that I’ve spent the last seven months being his mom for real, caring for him and protecting him, I can’t see myself doing anything else.
Which means I have to give his father a chance to do the same. And if he doesn’t want this—if he doesn’t want to be a dad to Christopher—then that’s okay, too. At least then I’ll know I tried, and I won’t feel guilty in a few years when my boy asks why he doesn’t have a dad.
My thoughts wander to my sister and her second chance at love, to her twins who now have a father in their life again, and the fact that she’s pregnant with her third.
Shaking my head, I put Christopher on my hip as I leave the bedroom. I don’t need to be putting romantic ideas in my head.
This accidental husband of mine is just that: an accident.
And in a few hours, I might just get exactly what I need.
An annulment, and the knowledge that he isn’t the cowboy from my past.
THREE
FORD
Wild Vista Ranch is quiet, the bachelorette party gone, leaving a handful of small families, a bachelor party, and three other groups to the wide expanse of land owned by my bosses. Thankfully, I don’t need to spend much time around the guests; my job leaves me working the ranch side of things, not the guest relations.
Which is probably for the best. I’ve not been in the best mood since talking to my brother.
I heave a breath as I toss another bale of hay down from the loft of the barn. Straw goes flying, but another ranch hand is there to grab it and carry it out to the waiting truck. Even though working helps take my mind off everything else going on in my life, it doesn’t seem to be enough today.
“That’s enough,” our lead ranch hand shouts from below. He and a couple of the other guys get the rest of the bales set up in the bed of the truck.
I straighten, wiping the back of my hand over my forehead as my boss walks into view. “You take off. They need some help at the main lodge with something. When you get there, find Carl,” he explains, cowboy hat tipping over his forehead. “You good with that?”
