Only You (17 page)

Did the doctor mean stuff like hustling men so she could get pregnant? Although, she’d moved on to researching donor clinics. Or maybe the doctor meant deciding to buy a house because it felt like a good idea? If living here didn’t work out, would they be able to sell the house again or would she be forever tied to this town? Or leaving her comfortable, easy life in San Francisco to start over in a place where hardly anyone knew her. Jeez. What
was
going on with her?

“I, ah . . . I’ve been nauseated off and on for the last few weeks, I guess. And I seem to tire easily. It’s possible I’m more emotional than usual, but I’ve also made a lot of changes in my life lately, so, you know, it’s hard to say exactly why I’m more sensitive.”

Gwen scribbled in her chart. “How’s your appetite?”

“Great.”

“That’s good. And your sleep?”

“Mostly good.” She attempted a smile. “Especially in the afternoon. I’ve grown fond of napping during the day.”

Gwen stood. “Do you mind if I perform a bit of a physical? You can lie down on the examining table.”

“Okay.” Maggie stretched out and followed the doctor’s requests for taking deep breaths and letting them out on demand. They covered all the usual bases over the next half hour, including Maggie’s erratic menstrual cycle. Finally, the doctor picked up the chart again and sat looking at it for a minute.

Maggie’s heart blipped. Gwen was trying to find a way to give her bad news.

“I’d like to run some blood tests. We should have the results back in a few days,” she finally said.

“Tests for what?”

Gwen frowned. “Are you married?”

Oh, God. She was going to tell her she was dying and wanted someone else there to support her. “No,” she croaked.

“Long-term relationship?”

“No.” Her heart sank. She had a degenerative disease and was going to die a slow, painful death.

“I need a blood test to confirm my diagnosis, but I feel fairly confident saying you’re pregnant.”

Pregnant?
She’d heard wrong. She’d substituted the word pregnant for cancer or something equally terrifying.

“Is that going to pose a problem in your life?”

“What?”

“Being pregnant. Is that a problem?”

“Um . . . it’s not possible. You must be wrong.”

Gwen smiled. “I get that a lot. But as far as I know, the Immaculate Conception only happened the one time. Like I said, I’ll have to wait for the blood-test results to be absolutely certain, but I’d give you a seventy-five percent chance of being pregnant.”

Oh. My. God.
She and JD were going to have a child. Not together, but still . . . oh my God. Tears coursed down her cheeks.

Gwen squeezed her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Okay?” She gazed up at the doctor, her mind racing in a hundred directions. But circled back again and again.
I’m pregnant
.

She grinned like a hyena and stuck out her arm. “Let’s get those blood tests done. I want to make sure everything is perfect for this baby.” The tears came faster now. “I’ve wanted a baby so badly,” she managed to get out. “This is so . . . overwhelming. And great and fantastic. Oh! Wait until Claire and Sammie hear.”

Gwen smiled back at her. “I’m very happy for you. I’ll have the nurse take the blood and give you a list of vitamins you should start taking. There are some great books on being pregnant. Just look online, you’ll find some. And I’ll want to see you in a month. Can I call with the test results?”

“Of course. I’ll leave my cell number. How far along do you think I am?”

“
My guess would be about six weeks
.
Congratulations, Maggie.”

Claire and Sammie were anxiously waiting for her in the waiting room when she came out of the doctor’s office. Claire grabbed her arm. “What did Dr. Cowan say?”

“Not here,” Maggie said out of the corner of her mouth. “Let’s go.”

All three speed-walked down the sidewalk to Ethan’s SUV, which Claire had insisted on driving. “Well?” Claire demanded the minute they closed the doors.

“Drive!” Maggie bounced in the front passenger seat.

“You’re scaring me, Maggie,” Sammie said from behind.

Maggie grabbed Sammie’s hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. “Sorry. I just can’t tell you in front of other people.”

Claire expertly wheeled the huge vehicle out of the parking spot. “Where are we going?”

“Jackson Hole. I can’t go to the drugstore here. And”—she grinned as they drove out of the small town—“I have some serious shopping to do. So do you.”

“Shopping?” Claire raised one eyebrow.

“Okay. Okay. Stop. This is far enough out of town so no one will hear us shouting.” Maggie took a deep breath and beamed at her friends. “I’m pregnant!”

Sammie squealed and tried to hug her from behind, but almost strangled her. Claire started to tear up and quietly held her hand. “Oh, Maggie,” she whispered. “That’s so wonderful.”

Maggie swiped at her own tears. “It is, isn’t it? Gwen said she’s seventy-five percent sure, and she took blood for tests, and I need to get prenatal vitamins and do some research. And buy baby clothes!”

“Whoa,” Claire interjected. “Most people wait until the end of their pregnancy to buy baby things.”

“You’re right. Okay, each of us can buy one outfit.”

“You’re going to have a baby.” Sammie sighed. “I can’t wait.”

Claire started the vehicle and headed toward Jackson Hole. “No more riding horses for you,” she said.

“That’s a drag.” She’d enjoyed riding Lulu two or three times a week. She’d make a point of visiting the horse even if she couldn’t ride.

“No more alcohol,” Sammie added.

“Big deal. The rear bedroom upstairs has a huge closet. I could turn it into a nursery. That’s if neither of you mind letting me have that room.” They were still good-naturedly dickering over the turret room at the front. They’d set up a few yard sales to sell everything in the house they didn’t want, but had kept a surprising amount of the furniture. As soon as the painters finished with the interior, they hoped to move in. Maggie was packed and ready to go. Her condo was in the final stages of being sold, and fortunately, the buyers had wanted most of her furniture. She’d been shocked at the small amount of belongings she’d wanted to hang on to. Thirty-six years old, and she could fit her life into one moving van. But all that was about to change.

“So, the million-dollar question is . . . just between the three of us,” Claire glanced at her, “do you know who the father is?”

JD
. Imagine if—forget it. She squared her shoulders. This was her baby. But she couldn’t lie to her friends. “JD,” she said.

“No way.” Claire hit Maggie lightly on the arm.

“He’s the only one I had sex with.”

“But he’s—”

“He thinks he’s not able to have children. Yeah, I know.” A sharp pain stabbed behind her eyes. “He’s going to hate me even more when I tell him.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Sammie reassured her.

Maggie pulled out of her slump. “I don’t care. JD’s problem is JD’s problem. I’m having this baby, and I don’t care who the father is. Let’s go shopping!”

All she had to do was learn how to snuff out that persistent voice in her head.

Imagine . . .

“It feels empty, doesn’t it?” JD stared out the front window as Ethan rambled through his log house. He could count on one hand the number of times his brother had looked defeated in his life, and this was one of them. Sometime during the week, while he, Ethan and Dave had been out working the range, the girls had moved out. Ethan had his home back—without Claire.

“Weird, isn’t it?” Ethan picked up a business magazine, glanced at the cover and tossed it on the coffee table. “The house is exactly the way it was before Claire arrived, yet it feels emptier now than ever before.”

“You’re welcome to stay at my place, if you like.” Truth was, JD hated to think of Ethan moving out. His house felt as empty as this one.

“Thanks, but I think I need to stay here and work on straightening out the mess I’ve made.” He smiled mirthlessly. “Claire is still on my payroll, and I believe it’s time we review our situation.”

JD rolled his eyes. “You sure know how to woo a woman. What happened to going on a date?”

“She hasn’t got back to me on that yet. You know what?” He looked around the spookily quiet house. “Let’s go to Jo-Jo’s. It’s Saturday night, for God’s sake. We need to have a couple beers and hang out with some old friends, not sit around here like a couple of sad cowpokes.”

“Um . . . I guess.” He didn’t want to go home and be by himself any more than Ethan did. He wasn’t sure Jo-Jo’s was the answer, especially after throwing Maggie over his shoulder and stomping out—he’d been on the receiving end of a lot of snickering since then—but he didn’t want to be at the ranch, either. Seemed like wherever he went these days felt like the wrong place. Hell, he knew where he wanted to be, but it just wasn’t possible. How long would it take him to forget how Maggie felt in his arms?

Half an hour later, JD hung back by the door while Ethan waded onto the crowded dance floor and wrestled Claire out of Clay’s arms and into his. Good thing Clay understood what was going on with Ethan and Claire. Or understood as well as anyone could. Another man might have objected to having to concede a dance with the beautiful Claire Montgomery. JD had always thought she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met. Until Maggie. His life was beginning to be divided into before and after Maggie, and he wished he knew how to stop looking at things that way, but he didn’t.

He scanned the room, found Sammie rocking and rolling with Russ and was immediately thankful they hadn’t invited Dave to come along. Dave wouldn’t go all caveman like JD had the last time. No, the quiet, older man would have approved of Sammie dancing with a man her own age. Younger, actually. Younger would be okay in Dave’s book. Older, like Dave, was off the table.

He continued to scan the room and frowned when he couldn’t find Maggie. He’d have sworn she’d be all over a scene like this. Jo-Jo’s was lit up like a three-ring circus and almost as entertaining. Hot, sweaty bodies crammed the dance floor. There was the beginning of a fight over by the jukebox, and people stood three feet thick along the length of the bar. He figured just about everyone in there had something to say, and they were saying it at the top of their lungs. Maggie should be in the middle of everything. She was probably on a date with someone.
Get used to it, bud. Maggie won’t stay single for long.

His pulse picked up as he caught a glimpse of her willowy shape ghosting along the dark hallway that led to the washrooms. She looked frail to him tonight. His chest tightened as he saw lines of fatigue in her face. He’d heard several people mention she hadn’t been feeling well. Something about the flu. But that had been a while ago. What if it wasn’t the flu? What if something else was going on with her? Something serious.

He started toward her, but Jesse appeared at her side. That man never learned, did he? Halfway across the room, JD turned and went back to the door. Not his business. Not his problem.

He breathed a little easier when she patted Jesse’s arm and headed for the door by herself. She definitely looked pale and a bit wobbly. He hated that she might be sick.

“Maggie.” His voice came out rough with emotion, and he saw her startle when she recognized him. Damn it, he hadn’t meant to frighten her.

“JD. I didn’t see you. I was just leaving.”

She moved toward the door, and he went with her. “I’ll walk you home.”

“That’s not necessary. It’s only down the block.”

“I know where you live, Maggie.” Right, and now he was snarling at her. “I was leaving, anyway,” he tacked on. “Jo-Jo’s is swinging tonight. I’m surprised you’re cutting out early.”

She shoved the door open and smiled politely over her shoulder. “Contrary to the evidence, bars are not my favorite place.”

When he followed her outside, she said, “Really, JD. I’m fine walking home by myself.”

JD shoved his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket and started down the sidewalk toward her house. “I heard you’ve been sick.” He waited for her to catch up.

She made a noncommittal sound as she followed him.

“How’s the new house?”

“Great. We’re having a lot of fun.”

“Meeting a lot of people?”

“Some.”

“Good.”

She stopped in front of her house. “Told you it wouldn’t take long.”

“Right. Okay. If you need anything, or . . . anything, you know you can call me.”

She sighed. “Actually, I have to talk to you about something.”

“You do?”

“Yes, but first, I want to show you the lovely bookshelves I saved for you. You didn’t come to any of our yard sales.”

He followed her to the carriage house. “I was busy.” Busy avoiding her. But also, thankfully, busy at the ranch and working on the design for the Muller’s new house.

“How is the design for that young couple coming along?” She opened the wide doors and switched on the overhead light. Inside was mostly empty and smelled of fresh sawdust.

“What are you doing in here?” asked JD, evading Maggie’s question.