ISBN-13: 978-0-9992585-1-4
Copyright 2020 EK Publishing, LLC
All rights reserved
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously or are a product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover design and Formatting by Serendipity Formatting
Editing by Kristy Stalter deBoer
Created with Vellum
Prologue
One arm across her waist, Skylar James paced the length of the guest cottage. Oh, my God.
Where are you Eddie? She checked her phone for the millionth time in three days.
Still nothing.
Who walks away after getting news like that?
And what did it mean?
It’s the middle of the semester. He can’t just leave school, can he? He had to come back. We have classes.
She paced back to the window. Are you serious right now?
Who cares about classes?
“Skylar?” her mom called. “Where are you? Get back here and help us string up these lights.” And then to someone else, she muttered, “I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately.”
“She’s twenty,” her aunt said. “Hormones.”
With tears blurring her vision, Skylar quietly shut the window. She wanted to help her mom, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t think, couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep…
And she couldn’t tell anyone why. Not until she talked to Eddie and came up with a plan.
Her phone vibrated.
Eddie?
Her hopes crashed when she saw her dad’s name on the screen.
Dad: Chef showed up in ladybug crocs. You’re going to pee your pants.
Another one came in. Her brother.
Griffin: Did you take my iPad? Give it back or I’ll hunt you down.
The words hit her brain like raindrops splattering on a windshield. Nothing registered, nothing got in.
She needed her boyfriend.
They’d been together five years. They loved each other. The longer he stayed away, the easier it was for him to make a decision without her. She needed to tell him they could do this.
We’ll be fine.
She threw herself onto the bed, the down comforter and pillows swallowing her up.
With every second that passed, the anxiety grew bigger.
He’s not abandoning me. He wouldn’t do that. God. She yanked the pillow out from under her head and covered her face with it. She breathed in the lavender housekeeping sprayed on the linens.
A sudden wave of nausea rolled through her. She shot off the bed and ran into the bathroom. Of course, at that exact moment, her phone pinged with another text.
Fighting back the bile, she willed herself to not throw up. Not now. On unsteady feet, she hurried back into the main room and picked up her phone.
The sight of his name on the screen sent a rush of relief through her.
Eddie: Where are you?
Skylar: Guest room ten.
Eddie: Here.
What does that mean? Here, as in their hometown of Calamity, Wyoming? Here, as in The Homesteader Inn, her family’s lodge? But she didn’t bother asking. She couldn’t. Instead, she raced back into the bathroom and knelt.
Once she’d emptied her stomach, she rinsed her mouth with handfuls of cold water and then scraped her fingers through her hair. He couldn’t see her looking a wreck and smelling like puke.
A rap at the door had her skipping the towel and drying her hands on her leggings instead. On her way, fear spilled into her bloodstream, swelling under her skin. When she’d first told him, he’d been so angry. He’d have calmed down by now, though. Accepted the reality of the situation. God, I hope so.
But what if he was breaking up with her? No, that made no sense.
You don’t bail on the woman you love at a time like this.
Of course not. He’d just needed some time to figure things out.
This is huge. He had to wrap his head around it, and now he’s back with a plan.
Well, good. She had one, too. Which meant, between them, they’d be okay.
We got this.
His shadow fell across the windowpanes on the side of the door. That rocking motion meant he was anxious, transferring his weight from one foot to the other.
She opened it, wanting more than anything to jump into his arms and wrap her legs around his hips. Thank God you’re back.
But everything in her came to a screeching halt. Because that man on the doorstep was not Eddie. Her boyfriend was energetic, full of ideas. Her boyfriend loved her. Wanted her all the time.
This man was stern, angry, shut down. This man was a stranger.
“Where’ve you been?” She whispered it so her family, probably still stringing lights in the courtyard, wouldn’t hear her.
Eddie didn’t answer, just slipped in around her—arching away so he wouldn’t make contact—and stood in the middle of the room. He gave a chin nod to the door, and she shut it.
“Do you still insist on having this baby?”
Insist? He sounded so cold, so…mean. “Yes…of course.” What kind of question is that?
“And you agree I’ve made myself clear that I don’t want it. I don’t want to be a father. Right?”
He had. When she’d told him the results of the pregnancy test, he’d flipped out. Holding both sides of his head, he’d shouted at her to “just get rid of it.” She’d told him she couldn’t do that. This was their baby.
“Yeah? So? It’s not about what we want. It’s about what’s happening. Ready or not, we’re having a baby.” She read his eyes, his expression, looking for the softening. Eddie often came down hard on an issue, but she’d always been able to tease and flirt and get him to come around. Because he loved her. And he liked to make her happy.
But she saw no love in him at all. Her pulse jackhammered, and her skin went clammy.
He pulled something out of his back pocket. An envelope. Handed it to her.
Fear squeezed her lungs so hard she went dizzy. Her trembling hands had a hard time unfolding the letter. The words jumped on the page. “What is this?” The language was stilted, formal. “Did you talk to a lawyer?”
“No, I don’t need anyone to tell me I have rights. It’s your body, so I can’t stop you from going through with this, but you don’t get to make decisions that affect my entire life.”
“Okay, I don’t know what you’re talking about right now, but like it or not we’re having a baby.”
“No, you are.” He waved at the paper. “I’ve signed away my rights. I don’t want to be a father. I told you that, and you insist on doing it anyway. Well, that’s bullshit.” His voice rose. “You can make the decision for yourself, but you can’t make it for me.”
“Shh.” Her stomach wrenched. What if her parents heard? Her dad was in the kitchen, but her mom was out there somewhere.
He drew in a breath to calm himself down. “You’ve made your choice, and I’ve made mine.” He pointed to the letter. “It’s signed and notarized by Jeff.”