Cathy Mcdavid - Aidan - Loyal Cowboy

There would be no riding horses for several more days if the ibuprofen he’d been swallowing like Halloween candy didn’t kick in soon.

Starting the Polaris, he drove to the paddock, the same paddock where they’d put Wally Dunlap’s mares after the auction. The drive took only a few minutes. A bumpy, excruciating, teeth-grinding few minutes.

He expected to find Earl or one of the McKinley hands with Flynn, only she’d come by herself.

“Thanks, Gracie,” he told the ranch hand after crawling out of the Polaris.

She picked up on his cue. Striding toward the barn, she said, “See ya later, Flynn.”

“Geez, Ace, are you all right?” Flynn gave him a concerned once-over, taking in his bent posture.

“It’s nothing.”

She covered her mouth and laughed.

“Not funny.” He went to the back of the horse trailer and inspected the five mares and one gelding inside, Fancy Gal and True Grit among them.

“It is too funny.” She came up behind him, trying not to smirk. “That’ll teach you to bust broncs without getting into condition first.”

It would. If he were smart, he’d quit rodeoing for good. He couldn’t afford to be laid up.

Unless he and Flynn had a son. Then he’d teach their boy everything about horses and cattle and ranching and rodeoing. On second thought, he’d teach the same things to a daughter.

A fresh wave of determination surged inside him. There would be a new generation of Harts. Rebuilding their flagging business, securing the future, took on a whole new meaning. As did carrying on family traditions, instilling in his children a love and respect for the land and the animals that inhabited it.

Wait a minute. Children?

Who exactly was he planning on having more children with? Flynn had turned down his marriage proposal. She was also moving to Billings.

He unlatched the rear door on the trailer, suppressing a groan.

“Wait, I’ll help.” Flynn reached for the handle and instantly withdrew when their hands touched. “You, um, don’t want to injure yourself any worse than you already have.”

There’d been a time when she wouldn’t have been jumpy around him.

Was that a good sign?

“Cut me some slack,” he joked in an attempt to relieve the awkwardness. “I’m getting enough grief from everyone else as it is.”

He opened the trailer door, wincing at the pain. Maybe he should have accepted her help.

Eventually, all six horses were unloaded and exploring the paddock. Ace and Flynn stood side by side at the fence, watching them.

“You picked the best from my dad’s string,” she observed.

“Yeah.” Ace was pretty happy about his selection. Several of the horses were nothing special to look at, but they could buck, and that was what counted. “Fancy Gal have any more problems with colic?”

“None, and I’ve kept a close eye on her.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Good. Fantastic, in fact.”

“No nausea?”

“A little last night.”

“When’s your next doctor appointment?”

“May first.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Flynn pushed off the fence. “There’s no need.”

“I want to.”

She started back toward the truck.

Ace caught up with her, though it was with some difficulty. “What’s the matter? You don’t want me to go?”

“It’s not that.” She shoved her hands into her down vest pockets. “What’s going to happen when I leave?”

“With your doctor appointments?”

She sighed. “The more attached you get, the harder it will be.”

“I’m going to be attached to my kid.”

“I was talking about me.”

“We agreed we’re going to try and get along. Do things together.”

“Getting along doesn’t include kissing.”

She had him there. “Was it so awful?” he asked, attempting a wry grin. “You did participate.”

Her defenses visibly shot up. “You’re missing the point.”

“I don’t think I am.” He waited until she’d shut the trailer door. “Don’t go to Billings, Flynn. Marry me.”

“I told you no, and I told you why. Nothing’s changed.”

“You have to admit, there were some pretty serious sparks between us.”

“Sparks aren’t enough.” She gazed at him pointedly. “Sometimes, love isn’t enough. But it has to be there for a marriage to survive.”

“Then don’t marry me, but stay in Roundup. We need more time to figure this out.”

Her expression fell, telegraphing her disappointment with his answer.

He scrambled to gain ground. “Our kid deserves to have both his parents raising him.”

“Couples who live apart successfully raise children all the time. My parents did. Well, my dad did.”

“And he ran a demanding business.”

“But he always put me and my sister first. There wasn’t a single dinner he missed.” Her gaze fastened on him. “Can you make the same promise? Because I won’t consider staying otherwise.”

“I’m willing to change.”

“How?”

“Once the business is operating profitably and the loan is paid down, I’ll cut back on my hours.”

“When will that be?”

“A year. Possibly a little longer.” In reality, it would be more like three years.

“You haven’t cut back in the last ten years,” she said skeptically.

“Yeah, but now there’s a baby on the way.”

“Which is all the more reason for you to focus on your family’s business. It’s your livelihood. I can’t support this baby on my own.”

And he’d promised to take care of his child. He couldn’t do that with only the income from his vet practice. Neither could he saddle his mother with the entire responsibility of managing the ranch and paying down the loan.

His determination returned tenfold. He’d do it all, work and be there for Flynn. Be a better man than his father.

“Give me a chance to prove myself.”

“I am. That’s what we’re doing.”

“If we were married, there—”

“I was married to Paul, and it didn’t make a bit of difference. He still put his career above me.” She headed for the cab of her truck. “There’s no reason for me to think you’ll be any different.”

“I’m going to continue proposing until you say yes.”

“That should be interesting,” she said over her shoulder, “since I’m going to continue saying no until you propose for the right reasons.”

“What’s more important than our child?”

“You should be asking yourself, what’s just as important as our child.”

Chapter Seven

Flynn stepped into the stark, utilitarian lobby of the Roundup Sheriff Station, a white plastic grocery bag clenched in her hand. She came here on occasion to visit Dinah and once when she was a senior in high school. Dinah, Flynn and a few of their friends had been questioned in the matter of a teenage prank that had involved drinking and several cans of spray paint.

Flynn had been innocent. Dinah, a little less innocent. Funny, her friend was now the sheriff and the one questioning delinquent teenagers.

A lot had changed since those days. Flynn would have never guessed she’d be married and divorced, living at home again and about to embark on single motherhood.

“Is Sheriff Hart in?” she asked the male deputy behind the counter.

“Your name?”

“Flynn McKinley.”

She took a seat on a bench in the lobby to wait. Dinah appeared a few minutes later, a bright smile on her face, her khaki uniform neatly pressed.

Seeing her friend often gave Flynn a start. Dinah closely resembled Ace, though her eyes were hazel as opposed to brown. Even so, there was no mistaking their relation.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I brought you a peace offering.” Flynn held out the plastic bag.