The Mountain Man’s Scars (Willow Ridge Mountain Men #4)
Prologue
SKYE
PREGNANT
The test results glare at me from Dr Summers’s screen. The remnants of my ultrasound are a distant memory as I stare at the baby-shaped thing she’s marked out on the monitor.
“You’re lucky we caught this when we did,” she says, sounding matter of fact yet comforting. “You likely would have gone your entire pregnancy without knowing.”
I press a hand against my abdomen like I might feel the foetus growing inside me. “I literally work in the maternity ward,” I whisper, unable to take my eyes off the results. “Cryptic pregnancies are the scary stories we tell at the nurse’s station.”
“I know,” Dr Summers murmurs, gripping my knee, the mask of physician slipping to reveal my friend. “Skye, are you okay?”
Slowly, I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want me to call Sophia? She’s down in the ER now,” Frankie says. Right now, she’s not my superior, not the OB I work with when delivering babies. Now, she’s one of my oldest friends, and she’s trying to give me the support she knows I desperately need. “Or should I call Rob?”
My skin prickles with disgust, which definitely shouldn’t be my reaction to the idea of calling my on-again-off-again boyfriend and the father of my child. “No. Not yet,” I reply distractedly.
Frankie moves in closer, her eyes dark with worry. “Is everything okay? Are you safe?”
They’re standard questions, and she knows the answer—Rob wouldn’t hurt a fly. Physically.
Emotionally, sometimes he’s stuck in the mindset of a fifteen-year-old boy. Whenever I think he’s ready to grow up, he regresses. It’s why we’re not together right now.
“I don’t want to tell him,” I say honestly, finally meeting her stare. “You know him. He won’t take this well.”
“He won’t.” She gives a soft shake of her head. “Or he’ll be like a kid who asked for a puppy at Christmas.”
The thought makes me smile and sick at the same time. God, that’s exactly how he’ll react. But I can’t do that. I work demanding shifts. I can’t take care of new parents while also worrying about my baby being with their dad. What if he forgot to feed them? Bathe them? Change their diaper?
I can’t do my job and worry about that.
“You should tell him, in my professional opinion,” Frankie says as she straightens. “But you should take Sophia with you. And don’t forget, if he walks away, you are not alone. There’s an entire community of women here who will help you. I’m here to help you. Okay?”
That’s one thing I love about our little town. The literal village of women who have definitely been in the same boat as me and are surviving every day despite it all, thriving in a world designed to fail them.
My gaze flickers to the screen, resolve settling within me as I stare at my baby. I’ve got this, I tell myself. We don’t need him.
Now, I just need to keep fighting for me and my little surprise.