Page 49 of Christmas with Three Cowboys

“Get out of here, Jake,” I tell him, shaking like a leaf beside Ethan. “We’re done talking.”

“Three.”

“Come on, Melissa, I’m trying to help you…”

“Two,” Ethan says.

And Jake finally takes a few steps back, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. “Alright, alright, I’m going. I’m going.”

“One.”

“I said I’m going!” Jake replies and starts running to his pickup truck. The snow is thick and treacherous under his boots. He slips a few times, stumbling and falling and crying out in pain from the tumble he took down the porch.

Ethan watches him like a hawk, hand fixed on his gun, ready to whip it out.

I hold my breath until Jake gets in his truck and fumbles around with the key. A second or two later, I hear the old engine roar to life, and Jake swerves around and back up the driveway leading to the gates.

“Melissa,” Ethan turns to me with the same dark look on his face.

Nausea wraps me in a bitter blanket, a horrible taste invading my mouth as I realize I’m going to puke all over him unless I get to the bathroom. “I’m so sorry,” I reply and bolt into the house.

Ethan doesn’t follow me.

I spend the next half hour hunched over the toilet, crying and losing my lunch down the drain. My chest hurts, my throat burns. Droplets of cold sweat cover my face, dripping down my temples until they seep into the collar of my plaid shirt.

Just when I thought I was out from under the dark cloud of my past, it descends on me once again.

14

Melissa

The Avery brothers stay away for a few days, giving me room to breathe and process what happened with Jake. In the meantime, they’ve alerted the staff to keep an eye out on the security feeds on their phones. Jake can never be allowed to get that close to the house again.

I can’t bring myself to tell them the truth: The reason Jake was here in the first place. If what he said is true, then it’s only a matter of time before the cartel tracks me down at the Avery Ranch. I can’t put these good people in such terrible danger.

“Oh, fuck,” I mutter as I stare at the plus sign on the pregnancy test I bought secretly when I went to town with Darla. The sickness wasn’t just from my past catching up to me.

My synapses are rapidly firing as I toss the stick into the bin and come out of my ensuite bathroom. What do I do?

It takes a while, but I manage to make my way back into the kitchen and prepare lunch for the crew as a blizzard rages outside.

Sammy, Kyle, and Jason take their seats at the table, where I’ve already laid out the bowls, the drinks, and the bread baskets. The stew is just about ready, though it needs another minute to cool down.

I’m so hungry, I could eat the whole pot.

“Melissa, are you alright?” Sammy asks, while Kyle pours water in his and Jason’s glasses. “You don’t look well.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m just tired. This weather is making me feel groggier than usual.”

“Tell me about it,” Sammy says. “I hate being cooped up inside like this.”

“Yeah, he needs to be out there, roaming the wild plains with the other mustangs,” Colton says as he and his brothers come in.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the kitchen and the dining area changes. The ranch hands can’t really tell, but I certainly can feel it. The stench of secrets and fear engulfs me as I give Colton, Ethan, and Mitch a warm, welcoming smile. “Hey, guys,” I mumble. “Lunch is almost ready. Have a seat.”

“It smells fantastic,” Mitch replies.

Sammy is nibbling on a slice of sourdough rye. “This is good bread, Mel. Did you bake this?”

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