Page 48 of Caught By A Cowboy

“Pregnant! How onearthcan you be pregnant?” My father barks while loosening the scarf Mother is wearing around her neck so she can get more air.

“Well, it’s quite simple, Mr Mack–”

“I’m sixteen weeks along, and our baby is the size of an avocado,” I interrupt what I’m sure would have been a sarcastic remark, to give them Jace’s fact of the week.

“Our baby…you mean,he’sthe father?” Mom looks up at Jace in horror and when he steps back to stand beside me, he smiles at her.

“That I am, ma’am,” he tells her proudly, making sure he draws attention to my neat little bump when he touches it.

“How could you do this? Why are you throwing your life away?” She raises her arms in frustration, all while my father remains silent, surprisingly calm, and looks very disappointed.

“Your father was setting you up for life. Adam was–”

“I don’t want to talk about Adam. Adam’s in my past but you don’t have to be. I invited you here so you could see how happy I am. This place, Jace, the baby - it’s all a new start for me. One that I chose for myself. You must have known that I never loved Adam.”

I watch my father take in everything I’ve said, while my mother makes a miraculous recovery and stands back on her feet.

“Roger, we’re leaving. I refuse to listen to this.” She marches toward the coat stand and waits for my father to follow after her, and lift her coat from the hook.

“Don’t leave.” I rush across the room. “Please don’t leave without hearing me out, I want you to get to know Jace. I have a picture of the baby if you’d like to see it.” I try my best to convince them both but Mother refuses to look at me, and when I turn my attention to my father, he offers me a half-hearted smile as he shakes his head.

“Please, Dad,” I beg. When I feel Jace move to stand behind me, I can sense the tension coming from his body.

“Darlin’, you shouldn’t have to beg anyone to be in your life. This is a free country and thesepeopleare free to go.” His voice is low and calm, and when his arms wrap around my middle, I grip both his wrists for strength.

“You’ve brainwashed her. We should call the police,” Mother hisses at him before charging out the door and leaving my father standing in front of us.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Keep yourself well.” He nods at Jace before he leaves and as I watch them drive away I try so hard not to cry. Crying’s all I ever seem to do these days, but I figure at least this time it's for good reason.

“Hey.” Jace spins me around in his arms and kisses the top of my head when I eventually break, and I let my tears soak through the smart shirt he put on in an attempt to impress them.

“I should have known what to expect, why did I get my hopes up?” I pull away and attempt to wipe my cheeks, though the tears just keep on coming.

“Because you're a good person, and you assume everyone is as kind as you.”

“They hate me.” I shake my head and sob some more.

“They don’t hate you at all, they’re your parents. They love you, and I guess they feel like they're losing you. I’d be an assholeabout that too.” He smiles and tries to make light of all that’s just happened but I can tell from the tension on his hands that he’s angry.

“Jace, I just begged them to be in their grandchild's life and they left,” I point out.

“They’re in shock. I thought the plan was to ease the baby thing into the conversation. I even wondered if you were gonna tell them, at all,” he laughs at me, and when I eventually smile, his thumb slides over my lips.

“That's more like it, Princess.” He stares at me with those handsome, brown eyes that soothe me just as well as his arms do. “They’ll come around, just give them time,” he promises. “Now, let's get outta these smart-assed clothes, put on some sweats, and give that lemon drizzle a try.”

JACE

FOUR WEEKS LATER

“Stop looking at me like that.” Maddison glares at me while the nurse takes her blood, she gets queasy when it comes to needles so she’s squeezing my hand at the same time.

“Look at you like what?” I laugh.

“Like you’re a wounded puppy. I told you, I don’t want to know.” She smiles at the nurse when she unstraps her arm, and I notice the look that passes between the pair of them.

“All I’m saying is that there's a sonographer in the next room who knows what we got in there. While me, the father, does not.” I make my point clear.

“Jace, you’ve been calling this baby ‘him’ since it was a blueberry. What happened to being sure?” She turns her attention to the nurse who talks about her next appointment and once she’s finished, she picks the envelope up from the desk that contains our updated images.

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