Brenda Harlen - The Sheriff's Nine-Month Surprise

Trish smiled and nodded. “It’s a boy. We’re going name him Henry—for my dad.”

Reid had to clear the tightness from his own throat before he could respond. “That’s a great name.”

She watched him tape the flaps of the box shut. “I really wish you weren’t going.”

He hadn’t expected that his ex-wife would make this easy for him, but he hadn’t expected that it would be so hard, either. But he didn’t—couldn’t—waver. He needed to move on with his life, and as long as he was living a stone’s throw away from her, he knew that wouldn’t happen.

“You’re going to be okay, Trish. You don’t need me anymore.”

She sniffed and knuckled away a tear that spilled onto her cheeks. “But what if you still need me?”

She’d been his family—his only family—for seven years now. But it didn’t matter if he still needed her—it was time for him to move on.

* * *

Kate thanked the clerk as she slid the judge’s signed order into her client’s file, tucked the file into her briefcase and turned away from the desk. She exited the courthouse, pausing outside the doors to perch her sunglasses on her nose in defense against the bright afternoon sun, then continued on her way. She’d been told that she moved purposefully, like a woman on a mission, and she usually was.

Today her mission was to get away from the courthouse before she threw up. She crossed the street and ducked into the shade of the trees that lined the perimeter of Shearing Park. The greenspace was usually quiet at this time of day, offering the privacy she needed. She lowered herself onto the wooden slats of a bench and reached into her briefcase for the sleeve of saltine crackers she’d been carrying for the past few days.

She inhaled, taking three long deep breaths. Then she nibbled on a cracker and sipped some water. When she felt a little steadier, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed her office.

“I’ve got the custody order for Debby Hansen,” she said when her assistant answered the phone. “If you want to print up the cover letter and final account so everything’s ready to go, that would be great. I’m heading to a settlement conference in Winnemucca this afternoon, but I’ll be back in the office in the morning.”

She could picture Beth frowning at Kate’s schedule on her computer screen. “I don’t have anything about a settlement conference.”

“I set it up myself—a favor for a friend,” she explained.

Lied.

If she was looking in a mirror, she would see flags of color on her cheeks. Thankfully, Beth wasn’t able to see the telltale proof of her deception.

“Okay,” the other woman said agreeably. “I’ll leave your docket and the files for tomorrow morning on your desk before I lock up.”

“Thanks, Beth.”

She disconnected the call and nibbled on another cracker. She’d never felt good about lying, but lately she’d been doing a lot of it.

Lying to her assistant, to explain her absences from the office. To her dad, when he said she looked peaked. To her sister, when Sky asked what was wrong. To her grandmother, when she hinted that Kate was working too hard.

To herself, when she suggested that the first home pregnancy test was faulty and there was no reason to panic.

It was only when a second, and then a third, test showed the same obviously inaccurate result that she’d decided to see an ob-gyn.

She tucked her crackers back into her briefcase, walked to her car and headed toward Battle Mountain. Because she would rather drive thirty-five miles out of town than risk the inevitable speculation that would follow a visit to a local doctor.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Gilmore—I’m Camila Amaro.”

Kate accepted the proffered hand of the woman who entered the exam room. “Thank you for squeezing me in.”

“You sounded a little panicked on the phone.”

“I’m feeling a little panicked,” she admitted.

The doctor didn’t go behind her desk to sit down but leaned back against it, facing her patient. “Is this your first pregnancy?”

She managed a weak smile. “So much for thinking the results of three home pregnancy tests might be wrong.”

“False results do happen,” the doctor acknowledged. “But a false positive is extremely rare, and the test we ran here confirms the presence of hCG—the pregnancy hormone—in your system.”

“I’m really pregnant? I’m going to have a baby?”

“You’re really pregnant,” the doctor confirmed.

She’d dreaded receiving this confirmation. How could she possibly juggle her professional responsibilities with the demands of a baby? And yet, something surprising happened when the doctor said those three words. She felt a loosening of the knots in her stomach and unexpected joy in her heart.

A baby.

And she knew then that it didn’t matter that she hadn’t planned for this—she would figure out a way to make it work.

“Do you want to set up a sonogram so we can establish how far along you are and discuss the options that are available to you?” Dr. Amaro asked.

“Five weeks and six days,” Kate told her.

“You’re sure?”

She nodded. “Broken condom.”

The doctor opened the folder she carried and made a note in the file. “Are you in an exclusive relationship with the father?”

The question was matter-of-fact and without any hint of censure, but Kate felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment that she’d been so foolish and careless. A weekend fling had seemed like a good idea at the time—some harmless fun to break the monotony of her everyday life. She’d never anticipated that a few unforgettable nights would give her a lasting reminder of those nights with the handsome sheriff from Texas.

“No,” she admitted. “In fact...I haven’t seen him since the weekend that we were...together.”

“Then maybe we should run some other tests?” the doctor suggested gently.

She wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but her already burning cheeks flamed even hotter. She’d been so off-kilter about the possibility of a pregnancy that she hadn’t given a thought to any other potential consequences of unprotected sex.

Of course, when the condom broke, she and Reid had talked about their respective sexual histories to reassure one another that there was no cause for alarm. But she nodded her assent to the doctor now. “Yes, please. Whatever you need to do—I want to know that my baby’s going to be okay.”

“Then you do want to have the baby?” Dr. Amaro asked in the same neutral tone.

Kate nodded again. While she appreciated the woman’s professional manner and obvious determination not to influence her decision, there had never been any question in Kate’s mind. Even when she’d still been firmly in denial about the possibility of a pregnancy, she’d known that—if she was pregnant—there was no other choice for her but to have the baby.

She’d always wanted to have a family...someday. Of course, she’d expected to be more established in her career—and preferably married—before that dream became a reality, but she was going to play the hand that had been dealt and be the best mother she could be to her baby.

She had no intention of making any claims on Sheriff Reid Davidson of Echo Ridge, Texas. She’d gone to bed with him not just willingly but eagerly, and even if the possibility of a pregnancy had never entered her mind, she alone had chosen to have this baby and she alone would be the responsible for that choice.

And while she had no idea how he would respond to the news that he was going to be a father, she knew that she had to tell him.

Soon.

Chapter Three

Reid stared at the modest pile of boxes in the middle of his new kitchen. He suspected that most people, by thirty-four years of age, had acquired more stuff, but when he and Trish had separated, he’d moved into a fully furnished apartment and let her keep the house and almost everything in it.