Addison Fox - Colton's Surprise Heir

Since he already knew she tasted better than an entire bag of cotton candy, he shook off the fanciful notion and pointed toward the back door. “I need to go check on Dream.”

“Your horse? Joyce mentioned she was having some issues when she let me in.”

The reminder that his foreman’s wife had already met Lizzie—and no doubt hadn’t missed the pregnancy bump—only made what they’d shared that much more real. Joyce wasn’t a gossip, but she would be beside herself at the news there was a baby on the way.

“She had a rough night, but the vet thinks she’s back on track.”

“May I go with you? To see her?”

He’d been raised with six siblings, none of whom loved animals with quite the same bone-deep affection he had. On the rare occasions they got together, his siblings were forever teasing him about his preference for a barn instead of a party.

“You really want to?”

“Oh, yes.” Color ran high on her cheeks, and her enthusiasm was contagious.

“Bundle up. The barn is cold.”

She slipped into a large puffy coat and Ethan watched, fascinated, as the material stretched across her stomach. He didn’t want to be caught staring, but he couldn’t quite hide the continued mix of shock and satisfaction that gripped him. That bump was his child, warm and safe, protected by Lizzie’s body.

Since that thought quickly led to how the child had got there, he pushed aside the primitive thoughts and gestured her out the door.

“Winter’s been colder than usual.” Several puffs of breath punctuated her comment.

“It’s always a crapshoot in this part of the state, but we’ve definitely got our fair share. Reports keep saying we’re due for at least two more storms before the month’s out.” Ethan took her arm to help her over the dented dirt path that led to the barn and made a mental note to fill in several of the larger divots.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, their breathing the only sound between them. Ethan opened the door of the barn and gestured her through, then followed her down the long corridor that held stalls branching off on both sides.

From behind he couldn’t see any difference in her shape, and a strange—and altogether unexpected—thought popped into his head. His sister Annabel had mentioned a friend who “carried high” and claimed it was a boy.

Was Lizzie carrying his son?

Ethan had always wondered at the people who seemed desperate to have one sex over the other. Wasn’t a healthy child the goal?

But the prospect—old wives’ tale or not—that the child might be a boy struck with a hard slap. Boys grew into men. And just like that, images of his father and all the man had been capable of rooted him to the ground as if he were wearing cement shoes.

It wasn’t possible, was it? The idea he’d pass his father’s blood on to a child had always filled him with fear. But now.

Now that there was a real baby...

“What is it?”

Ethan hadn’t even realized he’d stopped until Lizzie turned around and waved him forward. “Nothing.”

“You sure? You look like you’ve seen a cross between the ghost of Christmas past and the Headless Horseman.”

Her tease was light and airy, but the concern underneath the words was hard to miss. “I’m good.”

Ethan flung off whatever had momentarily gripped him. He needed to deal in facts. And in reality. He was going to be a father, and now that he knew that, he’d do whatever it took to care for his child. To see that he or she grew into a healthy, well-adjusted adult. He’d give everything he possessed to make that a reality.

He stalked the rest of the way to Dream’s stall, pleased to see his filly’s eyes bright and devoid of pain. “Hello, beautiful girl.”

Dream nuzzled his hand, her soft movements full of the trusting bond they shared. Ethan spent several long minutes stroking the horse’s neck before turning toward Lizzie. “This is Dream.”

“She’s gorgeous.”

Lizzie stepped up, her hand already extended before Ethan stilled the movement. “Why don’t you sweeten the deal a bit?”

He dug an ever-present sugar cube from his coat pocket and handed it over. “It’s always nice to bring a gift for a brand-new introduction.”

Something warm raced up his arm as their fingers touched, the simple gesture of handing over the sugar cube suddenly fraught with electricity and meaning. Her green siren’s eyes widened before something needy and deeply primitive flashed there.

Attraction. Want. Desire.

The force of it nearly took him to his knees, and he ran his index finger over her open palm, the flesh soft and pliant.

“Thanks for the sugar.” Her gaze dropped to where their hands were still tentatively joined, and he sensed the deepest regret when she pulled her palm away. “I hope she likes me.”

He couldn’t quite find his voice, the thick croak when he did finally speak gruff and hoarse. “She’ll like you fine.”

“We’ll see.” Without hesitation, Lizzie stuck her hand out, her reach steady. “Hello again, sweet girl. How are you?”

The sugar cube vanished in an instant, but it was enough to break the ice. Dream lightly pressed her nose to Lizzie’s palm before bending her head slightly. They spent several moments like that, Lizzie running her hands over Dream’s nose, cheeks and neck and Dream accepting the simple gestures of affection.

Ethan stood back to give them a moment, struck by the odd awareness they were both pregnant. He knew it wasn’t the same—a woman and a horse—yet he couldn’t deny there was something both deeply present and mysteriously ancient about their mutual situation.

Lizzie turned from her ministrations, her hand still lingering on the mane of her new friend. “What was wrong this morning? She seems absolutely fine. She’s such a sweet thing.”

“Her foal needed to be turned around.”

“She’s pregnant?”

“Yep. If things stay on track, we’ll have a new foal next month.”

* * *

Lizzie wasn’t sure why the fact Ethan had spent the night in the barn with a pregnant horse struck her with such force, but the symbolism lanced through her with all the finesse of a battering ram.

A sign.

She couldn’t deny the sweet joy and relief that swept through her at the silly acknowledgment.

Although she considered herself far too practical to engage in things beyond her control, she’d spent her life paying attention to the small signs that seemed like a direction, pointing the way. A small patch of pink tulips that bloomed the day she received her college acceptance letter. The same colored blooms planted around the entrance to her office the day she interviewed for her job.

Those and so many others made up a series of memories that told her she was pushing in the proper direction.

Finding out Ethan Colton’s prize horse was pregnant, too, felt like that patch of tulips.

Important.

The hum of voices echoed from the far end of the barn. Lizzie had nearly turned, ready to let Ethan know she’d leave him to his work for a while, when a comment by one of his ranch hands had her going still.

“They say it’s another serial killer, right here in Blackthorn County. Being steered from prison by Matthew Colton.”

“No way, Gus. Colton’s locked up good and tight. It’s a copycat out for attention.”

The two men came to a halt when they realized there were others in the barn, and both quickly doffed their hats. “Good morning, ma’am. Mr. Colton.”

Ethan had gone so still he could have been carved in glass, and Lizzie didn’t even realize she’d been holding her breath until he spoke.

“Morning, Gus. Trey. Bill will be in a bit late. We had some midnight excitement with Dream here.”