Page 35 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy
But first so much needed to be done for the tasting room. She couldn’t let Catalina or August down. She had to rise up—pregnant—yuck—or not.
“I can do it. I can do anything,” she whispered under her breath, motivating herself to walk upstairs and retake charge of her life.
Of course, Anders paced alongside her.
He seemed like he was holding his shit together much better than she was. Score one for the cowboy.
She reached the top of the landing. There was a fairly large, open office for the tasting room, and opposite a bright green door. She liked the whimsy of the green color—like something out of a Disney movie. You couldn’t be stressed or angry and sad living behind a green door, right?
She went to unlock the door, but Anders reached around her, his own key ready, and then swung the door open.
“Oh.”
The apartment was furnished. Two butternut-squash-colored couches flanked a nubby black-and-white patterned rug. A large, wide rust-colored leather chair with an ottoman completed the living room furniture. There was even a Pendleton throw blanket and a white-tiled coffee table.
“Bedroom’s finished, and I ordered groceries. I’m…I’m sorry I don’t know very much about what you like to eat. I bought staples and food I researched online that was recommended during pregnancy.”
His voice was formal, his complexion a little pale, but two slashes of pink colored his cheeks and for the first time she could remember, he didn’t meet her gaze. Why would he know? It wasn’t like they’d done much eating together. They hadn’t been in a relationship.
She hadn’t wanted to risk that again. Ever.
“Thank you, Anders. You’re being really nice about—” she shrugged and looked around the stylish apartment “—everything. And I’m being a selfish, poor me, whiney woman.”
“You’re not—”
“I am,” Tinsley cut him off. “I am very self-aware. I just… It’s a big adjustment, and I’m not there yet. I’m a long way from there.” At least she could give him honesty about that.
“What if I never get there?” she whispered and looked at Anders helplessly. She was pathetic. She’d gone from confident woman in charge of her destiny to exhausted, cranky crybaby.
Anders wrapped his arms around her, and she let him, practically melting. She just wanted to sleep for a week. But she had to eat. And work. And apologize to Catalina and August for falling into bed instead of returning to the ranch for dinner. And…her mind spun like the colored ball of doom before a hard-drive crash.
“Let’s just take it one day at a time,” he said.
“How?” She felt like everything was flying at her.
“Day by day.” He shrugged and looked a little embarrassed and for some reason that made her want to both cry and burrow into him for comfort. But she had to be strong. Stand on her own.
Anders took the sonogram picture from her limp fingers and stared at it for a long time. “Boy or girl do you think?”
“What?” It took her a moment to register. “Ummmmm.”
She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She hadn’t thought about anything for a long time except running. Only now, she realized with a jolt, she was at the end of the road.
Boy or girl?
She had a person inside her. A baby yes, but the baby would grow and become a person—need school and friends and activities that were their choice, not hers. She would give her child that, she vowed.
Suddenly, driving around the countryside on a Ducati letting the road take her to her next whim or adventure with another person who would have no say in their lives had become untenable. She knew what it felt like to have no control over her life.
She felt the blow like the times she’d swim out in the ocean and an unexpectedly large wave would knock her back when she’d try to get beyond the break point.
“Do you care?” she asked, suddenly curious.
A boy. He must want a boy to carry on his name, the ranch, be a cowboy, a bull rider. Didn’t all men want to see themselves in their sons? See their futures? Her father had wanted a son. All he’d gotten was her. And she’d tried to live up to what he wanted. She’d tried. She’d nearly died trying.
Blue eyes clashed with hers. “I thought…I thought I’d have a family someday…later…when I was thirty maybe. Or older, and I imagined boys like my brothers and me, but…” He looked at the picture again. “I just want the baby to be healthy. Happy. Loved.”
“Yeah. Healthy,” she repeated. It was, she felt, the first thing she’d been able to agree with him on today. “And loved.”
