Chapter 34

Chapter thirty-four

Wondering

Maverick

How was this possible? How could I care so much about something that wasn’t even more than a heartbeat yet?

That baby wasn’t mine, and yet the minute I heard that thumping, happiness—pure, undiluted happiness I had never felt before—filled me, warmed me to my core.

One thing was for sure, though. No matter what happened, no matter what became of Cheyenne and I, I would always love that baby. And I would take care of it, die for it, do anything I could to keep it safe.

After a few more minutes of listening to the heartbeat and the doctor taking down measurements, Cheyenne was cleared to get dressed, and an appointment was made for a couple weeks later for her twelve-week checkup.

The baby was measuring at ten weeks and three days, with a due date of February second.

Nearly seven more months. It seemed so far away, but I had a feeling it would be here quicker than we were expecting.

I already was coming up with a mental blueprint for nursery furniture. Maybe oak? Or pine? Dark or light stain? I wondered if it was a girl or boy. Would Cheyenne want to find out or wait and have it be a surprise?

It’s not yours.

I tried to ignore the voice of doubt in my mind. There was still a really good chance Cheyenne decided to up and leave. We still hadn’t talked about what we were. What the plan was. If she wanted my help raising it. If she wanted everyone to think it was mine.

I wanted to ask her. I’d looked over at her almost a dozen times now as we drove home to voice my thoughts, but she was closed off. Impossible to read.

She wasn’t lifeless anymore, but there was a wall up around her right now. One I didn’t want to knock down. She’d been through so much today. So many decisions weighing solely on her shoulders. I didn’t want her to have to worry about what we were on top of that. I would be right here, waiting.

It wasn’t a lie—I was the one thing she didn’t need to worry about. I could be patient. Bide my time. I was in no rush.

“So,” she asked, her tone lighter than it had been all day. “When do you think we should tell everyone?”

“Depends. Do we wanna do an announcement or just tell them?” I glanced at her.

We. Dear Lord, I’d just gone and assumed. “I’m sorry, I meant, you. Not we.”

She smiled despite my floundering. “I don’t know. I figure Cash will likely find out sooner or later. Maybe we should tell them before he guesses and tells the whole town about it.”

I nodded, but I was still in my own head. Ask her what we are. It was the perfect time. But it’s like my mouth and brain had stopped working. The line of communication being severed between the two.

“Any ideas on how to tell them?” Her smokey voice drew my gaze.

I shrugged. I had about a million ideas, but I also didn’t want to overstep.

This was her announcement. Her baby. I needed to remember that.

“You should do what you want.” I instantly regretted the words the minute they left my mouth.

“I’m sorry, I meant this is a big moment for you. You should do whatever you like best.”

“Oh.” Her smile faltered a bit, and my heart sank. But just as quick as it faltered, she went on like nothing happened. “I’m sure I can figure something out.”

Say something. Clear this up. Fix this.

But I didn’t want to be a burden. I didn’t want to pressure her.

If she wanted to talk about what we were, she’d ask…

right? She’d always been assertive, sure of what she wanted up until now.

She had no problems with asking or telling me what she was thinking.

The fact she wasn’t now had to mean something.

It was late afternoon by the time we got home.

Cheyenne had fallen asleep on the way, giving me plenty of time to think of what I wanted—no, needed to say.

I had it all planned out. I needed to work horses first, but I’d make her dinner, and then we could talk about it then.

Just the two of us. No Cash, no Charlie and Ryder, no Bad and Aunt Violet.

No distractions. No interruptions.

I studied her for a moment. She looked so peaceful, so calm. None of the worry or uncertainty from earlier lined her features. She was beautiful. For a moment, I debated just leaving her there, not wanting to wake her, but she deserved to sleep somewhere more comfortable than my truck.

She stirred in my arms as I carried her into the house. “When did I fall asleep?”

“Somewhere around Hondo.” I placed her on the bed. “I gotta go work horses, but feel free to stay in and rest.”

She wiped the sleep from her eyes and stretched, reminding me of a cat waking up from a nap. “I can come help. I just gotta get changed.”

I shrugged. I’d never turn down her company.

She nodded, but something lingered between us as she got dressed, reminding me of the rift from earlier, only not so noticeable or large.

Hoping to bridge that gap, I said, “I was thinkin’ I could convert the guest room into a nursery, if you wanted.

I can keep the bed in there for you, though, that way you’ve got somewhere to sleep. ”

She stilled as she put on her boots, a frown forming on her face as she leveled me with a narrowed look. “Do you not wanna be with me?” Anger and accusation rang in her words.

I rocked back, a matching frown tugging on my own mouth. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“You just basically said you don’t want me in your room anymore.”

“I never said that.” Worry and confusion rose in me. What the hell was she talking about?

She crossed her arms over her chest, her turquoise gaze blazing with defiance.

“Yeah, you did. You said you’d leave the bed in there so I had somewhere to sleep.

” She pursed her lips, pegging me with a challenging look.

“Not to mention, you seemed less than thrilled when I asked you about being involved in the announcement. You acted like you couldn't care less, especially considering you essentially told me you’d marry me earlier today. So, once again…do you not wanna be with me?”

There was so much anger, so much defiance and fire coming off of her. It was the first time I’d really seen her temper, and boy, she got hot quicker than I’d expected.

Guilt ate at me. Looking back on our conversations, the way I’d phrased things, I could see her misinterpreting what I said. Blowing out a breath, I took a step toward her.

Time to put out the fire.

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