Six weeks later
“Just the usual, Lauren?”
The bubble that had been bumping around her stomach since she woke up lurched at the idea of an iced coffee. Stupid work and wedding stress.
Eight more hours at the clinic. Then you don’t have to think about it for a couple of weeks.
A thought that not only failed to calm her unsettled tummy but came with a punch of guilt for wanting to get away from work so badly. But her lawyer had called yesterday to assure her the glitch preventing her from accessing her trust had almost been ironed out. Reality loomed—in two and a half weeks, she’d return from summer holidays a full clinic partner.
Rubbing her twisting abdomen, she shook her head at the barista, Garnet James, who was waiting behind the Peak Beans’ register with a curious smile on her face. “Matcha latte today, please.” And carbs. Like, now. “And one of the plain scones.”
Mackenzie strolled over from the table she’d nabbed, fists pressed into her pregnancy-swayed back. “Make that two scones, please.”
Garnet busied herself taking Lauren’s payment and dishing pastries onto plates, her red curls bobbing around her face. She and Mackenzie often got mistaken for cousins, given their nearly identical hair color and all the time they spent patrolling together. Garnet worked part-time for the mountain and would soon start working for the new holistic health center that AlpinePeaks, Lauren’s family’s company, was opening in the fall. The woman knew her way around an acupressure table. Lauren would have asked her about nausea relief, but only someone asking for trouble would bring up morning sick—
Don’t even think of calling it morning sickness. It’s nerves.
She and Tavish had used a condom, dammit.
And she’d gotten her period since.
Two percent failure rate. And your period was really light. Like, say, spotting. And it should have showed up last weekend, too.
Growling at her inner textbook nerd and reminding herself that stress caused periods to fluctuate, she accepted her drink from Garnet.
“Kenz, next time you and Lauren come in for your Wednesday breakfast, you’ll be a married lady,” Garnet said.
Grinning, Mackenzie danced in a celebratory circle, then winced.
“Ligament pain?” Lauren asked.
“Oh, yeah.”
Garnet wrinkled her nose. “I hear that’s the worst.”
Mackenzie shook her head. “I’ll take the third trimester over the first any day. Sore breasts—” Check.
“—falling asleep standing up—”
Double check.
“—morning sickness—”
Since Monday... Oh, Jesus.
Her heart raced and spots danced on the edge of her vision.
“So, Garnet,” she said in an overly bright tone, “are you excited to quit this place when the health center opens?”
“Couldn’t be happier.” Garnet eyed Lauren carefully. “You okay, hon? You look pale.”
The back of Lauren’s throat burned. She wanted to be like Garnet—happy about her new business opportunity. Also key: Garnet wasn’t preg—
Don’t.
—nant.
Her latte hit the floor. The lid popped off and green, milky liquid splattered her favorite suede flats and the tops of her feet. Pain flared, and holy crap, if her shoes were ruined...
“Ow,” she said feebly, staring at the spreading puddle.
“Oh, hon!” Garnet exclaimed. “What happened?”
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “I wrecked my shoes...”
“Blakey, bring the mop, will you?” her friend called to the back of the store, hurrying around the counter with a rag.
“I love these shoes.”
Mackenzie pressed the back of her hand to Lauren’s forehead. “Garnet’s right—you’re pale. Clammy, too. You’re not getting sick before my wedding, are you? I’m afraid I won’t allow that. My day has to be perfect.”
Lauren swallowed. “It will be.”
As long as your brother doesn’t freak out and bolt when he finds out he’s going to be a dad.
Fisting her hands to prevent herself from touching her stomach, she glanced between her friends, the puddle, her now-spotted shoes, poor Blake de Haan and his mop—
“I’m so sorry. I’m late.” In more ways than one.
“Get to work,” Garnet said, waving her away. “I’ve got this.”
She croaked out her thanks and hurried for the door before she burst into tears on Mackenzie’s shoulder.
Ten minutes later, she leaned against the wall of the single stall in the staff bathroom at work, a used pregnancy test clutched in her hand. It was from a box of samples a pharmaceutical company had left for the lab tech to try out. No one would notice she’d taken one.
The results of the test? Quite the opposite. In another two months or so, maybe three, she’d start showing.
And everyone would notice that.
Bracing her forearm against the cold metal of the stall, she pressed her nose to her skin in a vain attempt to hold back a sob.
A baby.
She brushed her free hand over her lower abdomen, and a swell of sheer joy flooded past the crippling shock gripping her body.
Her baby.
Not just yours. Tavish’s, too.
Right. Tavish.
Would he even want to be a father? During their handful of idyllic honeymoon days, kids had come up, and neither of them had been sure if they wanted to be parents.
Awareness, deep and real and so damn right, rushed into her chest. Caring for her patients meant supporting women, no matter what choice they made about pregnancy, but for her... For her, no debate was required. The tiny bundle of cells inside her would eventually grow into a baby. One she planned to love with every inch of her being. She had the resources, support and will to be a great mom, no matter how involved Tavish decided to be.
But holy crap. She was not looking forward to that conversation. And with him returning from his assignment to start fulfilling his best-man duties—and subbing in at WiLA—tomorrow morning, she didn’t have long to wait.
“Lauren!” Cadie’s sharp elbow landed between two of Lauren’s ribs.
Lauren jumped. Yeah, her head had been in the clouds since she took the pregnancy test yesterday morning. A justified state, she figured. However, she wasn’t ready to confess the reason for her fog to her younger sister. Especially not while holding a microphone in front of the few hundred Sutter Creek residents who filled the Main Street Square for the Independence Day festival.
Cadie stood at Lauren’s side with her sleeping son strapped to her chest in a baby carrier. Strands of dark hair drooped around her face, having been coaxed out of her tidy bun by the heat. Lauren knew her own ponytail wasn’t in any better shape. The canopy tent overhead provided shade, but the sun was still making it impossible to look halfway decent in front of the crowd. Or, say, one’s ex-husband—the one responsible for guaranteeing Lauren would be the one wearing a baby carrier come next summer.
You were there, too. You can’t blame him entirely.
No, no she couldn’t. She’d blamed herself almost every minute since she took the test and went for a quick, confidential follow-up appointment with one of her colleagues yesterday to confirm the pregnancy and review her list of dos and don’ts—stick to low-impact exercise, minimal caffeine, take prenatal vitamins, etc. But she could blame him for looking fresh as a damn daisy in his teal technical shirt and climbing gear. God, had they run out of extra-large shirts or something? The large Cadie had given him was too tight. Indecent, really, snug around his cut biceps and pecs—
Thinking like that got you into this mess.
“You’re forgetting to commentate,” her sister chided, elbowing her again.
“Right. Sorry.” Rubbing her smarting ribs, she focused on the Wild Life Adventures’ rock climbing demo in front of her and held the microphone to her lips. “Tavish is getting set to challenge my brother, here. Let’s see if he remembers how to do this, ladies and gentlemen...”
Was there really a best time to get life-changing news? Probably not. But this weekend counted as the worst. Tonight she was hosting Mackenzie’s bachelorette party, and then tomorrow was the rehearsal, and Saturday, the wedding—
Her gut wobbled and she wiped her sweaty forehead. Unclenching her jaw, she fixed her attention on the crowd. “Holy smokes, everyone! Tavish just bested Andrew’s time by a full three seconds. Guess he’s managed to do some climbing in between all that picture-taking.”
The audience of heat-wearied parents and children wearing star-spangled face paint seemed to like her soft jabs in the direction of their favorite famous son. Tavish might not love Sutter Creek, but Sutter Creek loved him. And given her job today was to entertain with the hope of selling more adventure packages, she’d use his reputation unapologetically.
The sun, out in full glory for the Fourth of July, beat down on the applauding crowd overflowing the grassy square at the center of town. Even after spending more than half her life in the ranching-and tourism-based town, she still loved how the historic Old West buildings blended so well with the newer shale-and-cedar architecture popular in ski towns. Homey and outdoorsy, it felt established. Close-knit. Small. Perfect for raising a child.
For raising a child alone? She gripped the microphone tighter. Sweat beaded along her hairline and made her polo shirt stick to her shoulder blades. But her internal thermostat issues were less a result of the sun and more the fault of the man who’d just raced Andrew to the top of the thirty-five-foot climbing wall. And damn it, she’d happily take the distraction. “If you’ll fix your attention on Tavish—” How could anyone not? His ass. Good Lord... “—at the top of the wall, the guy who just showed my brother how things are done.” She smirked pointedly at the crowd and garnered a laugh. “You’ll see he’s ready to rappel down.”
She explained the technique to the crowd, barely able to focus on her words. The flex-and-spring of Tavish’s leg muscles drew all her attention. That, and the fact she was currently growing an embryo he knew nothing about. Gah. Maybe waiting a few days to tell him wasn’t so bad. It only seemed right that one of them spend the wedding weekend free of thoughts of onesies and coparenting...
The crowd applauded again as Tavish landed on the ground, took a bow.
Show off. She ignored his second bow in her direction.
Saliva built up in her throat, made her cheeks tingle, and she shoved the microphone at Cadie. Spinning, she clung to the edge of the table and heaved in a breath, willing herself not to lose her breakfast in public.
“Uh—” Cadie sputtered. “At WiLA, we offer classes from beginner to advanced, for kids and adults...” She continued on with the closing spiel and gave thanks to both the rock-climbing and mountain-biking demonstrators. Lauren owed her sister. Cadie didn’t like public speaking.
A minute of slow breathing settled her body.
“What the heck was that?” Dangling the microphone in Lauren’s direction, Cadie ran a hand absently over the downy hair on her son’s head. Ben’s cherubic face was smooshed sideways and his little mouth hung open in his can’t-get-more-peaceful-than-this infant way.
That’s going to be me soon. Oh, wow.
Straightening, she sent Cadie an apologetic smile. “I guess the heat’s getting to me.”
Climbing gear clinked, drawing her attention away from her sister. The smile slid from her face as she got sucked in by Tavish lifting his helmet from his head, sweat curling the strands at his nape. He tipped his head back with a laugh at something Andrew said.
She loved seeing him laugh. And damn it, he’d do anything but when she dropped the “dad” bomb on him. So wait until after the weekend. He’ll be happier that way.
“Lauren!” Cadie squeezed her shoulder and followed her line of sight.
“Sorry, what?”
A dark brow curved up in suspicion. “I was saying you should go home. Take a nap before the party tonight.”
“I’ll be fine.” She yawned. Okay, maybe a nap wasn’t a bad idea. Her life was supposed to have calmed down this year. The chaos of last summer, from Cadie moving back to town after her husband’s funeral to Grammy and Grandpa’s car accident to Lauren’s wedding-slash-divorce, had been enough for a decade. Now that she’d gotten her family more settled, this holiday should have been different. But one little word—stay—and she was tangled up in Tavish all over again. Would he want to be an involved parent? Or would he take off the same way he had on their marriage?
“You know, if something’s on your mind, I’m here to listen,” her sister offered.
“Sure. If something comes up, I’ll be sure to pull out our sleeping bags and we can stay awake all night giggling about boys.”
“I hope we’re beyond the crying jags over failed proms and all that. Speaking of guys, though...” Cadie glanced briefly at Tavish, who was packing away climbing ropes. “Have you and Tavish picked up where you left off in high school?”
“Why would you ask that?” Lauren blurted.
“Well, you looked like you were tempted to strip his clothes off while he was climbing.”
Her mouth went dry. Oh, damn. So much for covering her reaction to him. “In case you didn’t notice, he’s kind of ripped. But no, there’s nothing going on between us.” Her chest clenched. Yet another addition to her stack of lies about Tavish. The guilt grew exponentially every time. But the dishonesty was necessary: Lauren wanted to help her sister heal from her losses, not pile on to Cadie’s burdens.
“You guys were good together back in the day.”
“Holding on to a high school love is the pinnacle of irrationality.”
“You could do with some irrationality.” Blue eyes widened on a spot over Lauren’s shoulder. “Oh, hey, Tavish.”
Wary curiosity crossed his face as he set a stack of plastic tubs down in the back corner of the tent. “What’s that about high school loves?”
Oh, crap. He’d heard them. At least in part. “Cadie’s is over there.” Lauren threw out the excuse, pointing to the raised wooden sidewalk that lined the stores on the south end of the square. “Remember Brad Gillis? She broke his heart when she went to college and met Sa—”
Her sister’s eyes dampened, no doubt from the reference to her husband.
Lauren mouthed a quick Sorry.
“We were champion heartbreakers after high school, eh, Lauren?” Cadie wrapped her arms around Ben, who was still sleeping securely in his baby carrier. She made a big show of greeting a family perusing the pamphlets at the information table.
Acid singed the back of Lauren’s throat. She wanted to slough off the accusation, to assert that she hadn’t broken Tavish’s heart when she dumped him during her freshman year of college, but the careful mask he wore made her wonder otherwise. Her chest tightened. Swallowing her nausea and her protest, she grabbed a bottle of water from a cooler with a shaky hand and sat on a folding chair.
Tavish tracked her movements with a studied eye. Worry tweaked his already uneasy expression. His strong hand landed between her shoulder blades as he crouched on his toes next to her chair. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Um, did you not see Cadie when I mentioned Sam? Not my finest moment.”
“She’s not going to fall apart because you brought up her husband.” His calm, low tone only made her insides hollow out more. He took her wrist and notched two fingertips against her pulse. “Drink that water. Gotta watch for heat exhaustion in this weather.”
She snatched her arm away from his grasp. “I’m a fricking doctor, Tavish. I know how to avoid heat-related illness.” She didn’t, however, know how to tell him the truth. And for the sake of the wedding, she wasn’t going to breathe the word “baby” until she figured it out.