Sniffling, Bluebonnet says, “It’s probably best if I have water.”
“Healthy choice.” I set a water bottle and a bag of chips beside her plate. “I am so sorry about making you cry.”
She’s just taken a bite, and her mouth is full of ham and cheese. She blinks, her brow knitted. After swallowing, she shakes her head. “It’s not your fault.”
“What am I missing? You came around the corner. I sprayed you with water. You sobbed. I feel like the blame is clearly on me.”
“I’m just upset.” She continues eating.
Bluebonnet is four years older than me. She’s best friends with one of my older sisters. I have three. I’m the youngest and the only boy. It wasn’t horrible.
Paisley is the nicest of the three. It wasn’t as if the others weren’t nice, but they didn’t want me following them around. But Paisley allowed me to tag along when she and her friends went out places, and they all treated me like a little brother. Hanging out with older girls taught me a lot about what they liked and what they didn’t.
My favorite part of hanging out with Paisley and friends was Bluebonnet. Not only was her name the coolest, but she was—still is—the prettiest girl alive. And she was always especially nice to me. Even gave me a nickname.
The first time she showed up at our house for dinner—I was ten—she sat in the chair next to me, and after seeing her devour her pickle, I offered her mine. That earned me a smile and a nickname, and I’ve been Dumplin’ ever since.
And she still treats me like a kid brother. But I’m hoping one day she’ll realize that I’ve grown up. I’m twenty-five. My brain is fully developed, and I can grow a beard. And I don’t mean a patchy peach-fuzz kind.
I sit across from her, trying to shove my feelings back in their cage. Ever since she got engaged, I’ve kept my distance, which isn’t easy considering she now lives on the ranch, but I can’t just let her stew. “I’m willing to listen if you want to talk about it.”
She snaps one of the pickles in half and nibbles her way through it, eyeing me. “Promise you won’t tell a soul?”
This is brand-new territory. “Won’t breathe a word to anyone.”
We sit in silence as she eats the rest of her pickle. Then she slips the phone out of her pocket and taps on the screen, her bottom lip quivering the entire time.
“I just broke off my engagement. My life is about to get hard fast.” She shoves her plate to the side, even though there’s still a pickle on it, and lays her arms on the table, and then buries her face. When she mumbles, I lean in closer to make out what she says. “He doesn’t want the baby.”
I never liked her fiancé. Mostly because I’m nuts for her, and she agreed to marry him. But now I despise the man as much as I despise the little spiders whose venom eats away flesh.
Given the new information, her comment from earlier takes on new meaning. She was crying because of that dum-dum, and she ran into me while I was having a water war with a seven-year-old on a Saturday afternoon.
My brain is in overdrive as I try to figure out how to fix the situation, how to make her smile. I stroke her hair. “You deserve better than someone like that.”
“What am I going to do? Being fodder for the town gossip is one thing, but being a single mom is hard. And I don’t even know if my boss will let me stay on at the vet clinic once he finds out.” She picks up her head. “The official reason will be something like not meeting expectations. But you know how some people are. This is not what I planned.”
An idea pops in my head, and I weigh the pros and cons. She’s worried about being a single mom. If she weren’t single, her problem goes away. Because then she’d just be a mom with a husband. Me.
If I propose now, she’ll think I’m making a rash decision. And it is rash, but it’s also right. After having a silly crush all these years, I now have the chance to really help her. And to make her kid’s life a little better.
I move to the other side of the table and drape an arm around her. “We’ll figure something out. You aren’t alone.”
She composes herself, then meets my gaze. “Please keep my secret. All of it. No one knows about the baby or the broken engagement.”
“You can trust me.”
“I know.” She wraps her arms around me and buries her face in the curve of my neck.
Why did I have the bright idea of playing without a shirt on?
Chapter 3
Bluebonnet
Just like every other morning, I wander into the mess hall later than the others. The ranch hands are all seated around the table, and the low hum of voices fills the room. The family vibe here on the ranch is heartwarming.
I make my way to the coffee pot, because downing a hot cup of that black gold is always the first order of business. But when I pick up the pot, nausea hits me. Something I normally love, the smell of coffee, is now making me ill.
