Page 63 of Secret Baby for the Triplets

“I’m pregnant.”

Mae hangs her head, and I give her an apologetic look.

“Did you know about this?” he asks.

“I told her not to mention it,” I tell my best friend’s husband. “But you can see why I can’t stay here.”

He grimaces and sits back, his intelligent eyes flashing. “Wait a minute, is it one of those men from the ranch?”

“It doesn’t matter who the father is,” I interrupt smoothly. “The point is, I obviously can’t stay here with a baby.”

He glances at his wife. “Shit! I had no idea.”

Mae reaches out to squeeze my hand. “It doesn’t matter where you are, Emmy. We are here for you no matter what.”

Tears flood my eyes again, and I hastily brush them aside with my free hand.

“Oh no you don’t!” Mae protests. “Now you’re going to make me cry!”

“The offer still stands,” Will tells me. “You’re welcome here for as long as you need somewhere to stay.”

I swallow thickly, the lump in my throat making it difficult for me to breathe. “Thank you both. I…” I trail off, dropping my eyes.

As much as I appreciate their words and support, they can’t give me what I really want.

The father of this baby.

Or more accurately, the Collins triplets. All of them.

My friends finish their breakfast, and I insist on doing the dishes as they get ready for their shifts.

“I’m on days this week,” Will informs me. “I’ll pick Mae up after school, so we’ll be home around four or four-thirty.”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” I promise them. “I’ll probably be at Mom’s this afternoon, anyway.”

Mae hugs me, and I see them off before retreating to my room to dress for the day. To my chagrin, I find my jeans a little too tight around the waist.

I change into a pair of leggings instead and style my hair into a messy bun before flopping onto the living room couch with my phone.

Biting on my lower lip, I resist the urge to text Toby or Owen. I wonder if Brock is thinking about me.

One of them is still the father of my unborn child.

This back-and-forth in my head is not conducive to moving forward, but I have to think about what’s best for my child in the long run.

If Brock or Owen is the father, either man might want to step up and co-parent this baby with me. Well, maybe not. Owen would want to be involved. I’m still haunted by the memory of Brock’s accusing eyes.

Ugh. I have no idea what they’re thinking.

They might not ever want to see me again. They’d likely agree to share custody, and allow the child into the Pine Sky world.

But if Toby proves to be the father, he wouldn’t want any part of it. His horrible accusations still echo through my head. He thinks I tricked him on purpose.

And in a way, I guess I did. I handled all of it so badly.

And if I’m wrong about all of them and they take out their frustrations with me on this baby?

I shudder to imagine that scenario, but I can’t reconcile it, even Toby with his temper. He was hurt, yes, but not malicious. Unleashing on a child is not in his nature.

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