A Conard County Baby. Rachel Lee

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Название A Conard County Baby
Автор произведения Rachel Lee
Жанр Вестерны
Серия
Издательство Вестерны
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474001595



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an accusation might only ruin any possibility of getting through to her.

      Standing, she unfastened her jeans and sighed with relief as they loosened, but this time she didn’t think about how much she needed to get some maternity clothes. Her mind was firmly fixed on Angie, and she lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, looking for any key to the lock around Angie’s heart.

      She didn’t know the girl well yet, but she’d picked up on a few things. Maybe riding with her tomorrow would help loosen the steel bands Angie insisted on wrapping around herself. Or maybe not.

      The truth was, Hope felt even more at sea now than she had this morning. More unanswered questions faced her than before.

      But she made up her mind that she wasn’t going to give up on Angie, no matter how hard it was.

      Because, frankly, she could see herself in that young woman. The self that was angry, bitter, hurting, betrayed and all the rest of it. She just didn’t make a show of it.

      Angie was crying out for help in all the wrong ways.

      Maybe.

      * * *

      Downstairs, Cash poured himself a bourbon and carried it into his office. He sat staring at the darkened computer screen, knowing he should take care of some business, but his mind was unwilling. He had too much else to think about.

      There was Angie, of course. There was always Angie. His daughter was a puzzle within a puzzle, and he couldn’t see the first chink or move to make. His repertoire of fatherly actions was limited, no question. He had no real experience to guide him, and the years lost between them weren’t helping.

      But he’d been struck by Hope’s comment about Angie being angry because her mother should have been saved. He hadn’t considered that before at all. To him, the loss of life for someone so young was the same, no matter the means. But Hope had cast it in a different light, and he would have bet that she was right. Sick people were supposed to get well unless it was something like cancer, and how much more true that must seem for someone Angie’s age. The idea that an infection could kill someone so swiftly must be beyond her ability to believe.

      Then there was Hope herself, who had until recently led a charmed life it seemed. Now she was cast alone, friendless and penniless on the waters of a world she knew nothing about. When he thought about the fact that she hadn’t yet seen a doctor about her pregnancy, anger burned in the pit of his stomach. He simply couldn’t imagine people who thought the way her family evidently did. No care for the child, no real care for Hope, who was their daughter. More concern for a guy who might be a senator one day, a guy who wasn’t even family.

      Twisted. Very twisted.

      He rolled the glass slowly between his hands, warming the bourbon and thinking about his newest employee. Maybe she would work out, maybe she wouldn’t. He certainly wouldn’t hold her accountable if she couldn’t get through to Angie. Hell, he’d been trying for months now.

      But he could ensure she had a place to stay until this baby came, and that she received decent care. That seemed the least he could do.

      She was an awfully attractive woman. It was hard to look at her without noticing her appeal. Given her past, though, he put a big mental off-limits sign on her. No way could life on a ranch hold her long-term, and more importantly, she’d been raped. It’d be a long time before she’d be inclined to see men as anything but a threat. Couldn’t blame her for that.

      Although he had to give her credit for the way she had handled this day. She’d accepted a job from a strange man and had come home with him. She must be desperate beyond belief to cross those hurdles as bravely as she had. “Single father” in that ad should have been enough to make her skip even calling.

      The fact that she had gathered her courage to call him told him plenty. Hope Conroy was at the end of her rope to the point that she was willing to take a huge risk.

      Desperate enough that maybe she hadn’t even evaluated the risks he might pose. More frightened for herself and her baby than anything else.

      Understanding drove through him like a spike. He supposed that made her tougher than a lot of people. Surprising, given her life until recently. Or maybe he didn’t really understand that, either. Regardless, she had a lot of backbone. Or maybe she was past thinking clearly about some things.

      Either way, a decent man owed her some protection. That much he could do.

      Tomorrow was another day, he reminded himself, sipping his whiskey. He needed to wrap up a few things before they got out of hand, then head up to bed. It was the time of year when 5 a.m. seemed to come awfully early.

      In the morning Hope awoke with a considerably clearer head and a much calmer state of being. She’d managed to hold off the wolf at the door, at least temporarily. She had a roof and room and board for as long as she could manage to hang on to them.

      It only struck her as she sat up and peeked out to see it was still dark what a huge risk she had taken yesterday. Not in applying for a job, but in coming home with a man she knew nothing about, except that he seemed to get along well with a sheriff she didn’t know, either. Given what Scott had done to her, given that she had known him for years and he’d still turned into a monster, she wondered where her brain had been.

      But as she felt the very faint stirring of the child within her, she knew. She’d given up everything to save this child without entering into a marriage that could only be hell. One thing and only one thing drove her. She needed to keep that in mind now when she made decisions, because the one she had made yesterday could have turned out badly for both her and her baby.

      At the time she had seen no other choice. Frankly, standing at the window staring into darkness, she admitted she had had no other choice except to push on as far as she could with her remaining cash and hope she didn’t wind up stranded in the middle of nowhere. She’d been heading toward mountains with no idea if she could make it across, if she would freeze to death sleeping in her car, if...

      But enough. She stopped herself. She had been caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, and she had chosen to jump. So far so good. So far she was lucky. Just lucky.

      Perhaps, through sheer chance, she had managed to land on her feet. Hanging on to that hopeful thought, she dressed for the day in a simple sweater and the same snug jeans. Clothes were going to turn into a problem, she thought again. She’d packed everything she had thought she would need, but she hadn’t packed for this lifestyle. Of course, it wasn’t as if she had a closet full of clothes meant for a ranch. At least she had brought her riding boots, although she wasn’t sure why. A memento from a happier time? Maybe. She tugged them on and pulled the jeans down over them. Riding boots were not the same as cowboy boots, and she didn’t want to draw too much attention to them. Even if Cash said nothing, Angie would.

      Angie. Her luggage. She wondered again if she should address that, then once again decided to wait and see. She was definitely sure that she shouldn’t tell Cash about it, though. That would create entirely the wrong impression with Angie, one that might never be corrected.

      Downstairs she found Cash puttering around making eggs and bacon. Her mouth watered immediately. He glanced up from the stove with a smile. “I heard you moving so I made extra. I hope you’re hungry.”

      “Starving.”

      “Good. Grab some coffee if you want, then grab a seat. You past the morning sickness?”

      “I never had it really bad and it seems to be gone.”

      “Or you’d be running from the smell of the bacon,” he said humorously.

      “Too true.”

      “So how far along are you?”

      “Approaching four months.”

      He paused in the process of turning bacon. “Four months?