Kitabı oku: «A Cowboy's Duty»
Never trust a man!
That’s what Dixie Cash learned from her mother. That and fathers don’t stick around. She’s pretty independent, and doesn’t need help from her baby’s daddy, sexy rodeo rider and ex-soldier Gavin Tucker. But he seems determined to do right by her. Just as Dixie starts to imagine that together they might be a family, tragedy strikes—and Gavin shows his true colors. She knew he wasn’t honorable!
After what Gavin went through in Afghanistan, he was more than happy to lose himself in the rodeo circuit—and in sweet Dixie’s arms. But doing the right thing can be hard sometimes, and when Dixie—Gavin’s lifeline—doesn’t need him anymore, he’s at a loss. His heart still longs for Dixie, though he’s not sure he deserves a second chance....
After a lengthy silence, Gavin said, “We need to discuss what happens next.”
Dixie’s throat swelled with panic and she swallowed hard. She’d known from the get-go that Gavin was an honorable man and once he learned he’d fathered her baby he’d insist on doing his duty and marrying her.
“Gavin—”
“Dixie—”
“You go first,” she said, bracing herself for a marriage proposal.
“I’m not sure what the answer to our predicament is, but I do know that I’m not ready to marry and settle down.”
Stunned by his confession, Dixie leaned against the workbench and stared unseeingly at the scattered supplies.
“I want to do right by the baby, so I intend to help you financially.”
Her face warmed with embarrassment. What an idiot she’d been to believe Gavin wanted to marry her. Shoving her bruised pride aside, she focused on the positive—he didn’t want to be involved in her life.
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Stagecoach, Arizona! In A Cowboy’s Duty you’ll meet Dixie Cash and her six brothers—each named after a country-and-western singer. You’ll get a kick out of the crazy Cash brothers, but the cowboy who will steal your heart is Gavin Tucker. He’s a soldier cowboy—a special breed of man who’s paid a high price for defending his country.
Many soldiers return from war suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. Gavin’s an adrenaline junkie—feeding his addiction by competing in rodeo. The high he gets from busting broncs gives him the strength to keep running from his past, and as long as the past never catches up to him Gavin is able to keep his PTSD under control. A chance encounter with a female bull rider named Dixie Cash threatens the status quo. When Dixie turns up pregnant, Gavin must face his past before he can seek the future he’d always believed to be out of reach for him.
Dixie and Gavin’s love story is about courage, trust and taking a leap of faith. I hope you enjoy accompanying them on their rocky road to Happy Ever After.
For more information about other books in my Rodeo Rebels series, please visit www.marinthomas.com and drop by my blog, All My Heroes Are Cowboys, www.marinthomas.blogspot.com, where I always have something to say about the guys who wear Wranglers and Stetsons.
Happy Ever After...The Cowboy Way!
Marin
A Cowboy’s Duty
Marin Thomas
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marin Thomas grew up in Janesville, Wisconsin. She left the Midwest to attend college in Tucson, Arizona, where she earned a B.A. in radio-TV. Following graduation she married her college sweetheart in a five-minute ceremony at the historic Little Chapel of the West in Las Vegas, Nevada. Over the years she and her family have lived in seven different states, but they’ve now come full circle and returned to Arizona, where the rugged desert and breathtaking sunsets provide plenty of inspiration for Marin’s cowboy books.
To Lauren
When we first met, you were quiet and shy. It wasn’t until I got to know you better that I began to see a strong, determined and resourceful young woman. A woman who is not afraid to rely on herself or face the unknown without flinching. Hold fast to your dreams—
no matter how long they take to realize or what roads you must travel to achieve them. Believe in yourself, and there will be no limit to what you can achieve.
Things turn out best for the people who make the best out of the way things turn out.
—Art Linkletter
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Excerpt
Prologue
July
Boot Hill Rodeo, Boot Hill, Arizona
“Ready?”
“I’ll never be as ready as you are.” Dixie Cash grimaced at her friend Shannon Douglas—one of the top female bull riders in the country.
Shannon was forever on the lookout for a rough stock competition and when Five Star Rodeos had agreed to sponsor women’s bull riding in three summer events, Shannon had promised to find five women crazy enough to ride with her—Dixie being one of them.
“Here.” Shannon held out a bank draft.
“I feel bad taking your money.” Dixie shoved the check into the front pocket of her jeans.
“You’re worth every penny.”
When Shannon had mentioned the rodeos, Dixie had just been hired as a part-time receptionist for a construction company in Yuma. She’d wanted to help her friend but needed money to launch an internet business for her homemade organic bath soaps. Then Shannon had made Dixie an offer she couldn’t refuse—a thousand dollars per rodeo.
“Looks like Veronica Patriot has set her sights on Gavin Tucker.”
Dixie’s gaze followed Shannon’s pointer finger. Figures the blonde buckle bunny would target the handsome bareback rider. “If the cowboy knows what’s good for him he’ll avoid that tramp like the plague.” Dixie had run into Gavin—literally—at the Canyon City Rodeo in June when she’d tripped over his gear bag and knocked him to the ground.
“The bull’s more of a spinner than a bucker,” Shannon said. “Stay centered.” The tan Charbray stood docile in the chute, but once freed all hell would break loose.
“Ladies and gentlemen, turn your attention to gate two. Dixie Cash is about to tangle with Bad Mamajamma.” The crowd stomped their boots against the bleachers and whistles filled the air.
“If the Cash name sounds familiar it’s because Dixie’s got six older brothers who rodeo. Earlier today, Merle Cash took third in the saddle bronc competition.”
While Shannon and a rodeo helper fished the bull rope from beneath Bad Mamajamma, Dixie pulled on her riding gloves and adjusted her headgear with its protective mask.
Let’s get this over with. Dixie straddled the fifteen-hundred pound nuisance, found her grip then nodded to the gate man. The bull pounced for freedom, the first buck almost unseating Dixie. Anticipating a wild ride, she held her breath through the first of two tight spins, squeezing her thighs against the animal’s girth.
Bad Mamajamma decided he’d had enough of Dixie and kicked out with extra force. As if she’d been shot from a cannon, Dixie catapulted through the air. She hit the dirt hard, but instinctively curled her body into a ball and rolled away from the bull’s hooves. The bullfighter stepped in front of Bad Mamajamma, affording Dixie an extra second to gain her footing. She ran for the rails and scrambled to safety.
“Well, folks, Dixie Cash gave it her best effort.” The announcer discussed Shannon’s upcoming ride, but Dixie stopped listening when her boots landed in front of Gavin Tucker.
“Good try,” he said.
Try being the operative word. “Thanks.” Brilliant, Dixie. A cowboy with killer looks and nice manners goes out of his way to talk to you and you mumble “thanks”?
“How long have you been riding bulls?” Gavin asked.
“Started this summer.”
A dark eyebrow lifted. “Gutsy gal.”
More like crazy. For the life of her, Dixie couldn’t find her tongue. Turned out she didn’t have to. Veronica Patriot materialized out of nowhere and sashayed her way between Dixie and Gavin. She placed her French-manicured talons on Gavin’s chest and thrust her heaving bosom in his face. “Time to celebrate, cowboy.”
Dixie despised Veronica. The woman had done a number on her brother Porter—used him to make another cowboy jealous then left him high and dry with a broken heart.
“Sorry, I’ve got plans.” Gavin’s soulful brown eyes beseeched Dixie.
“What plans?” Veronica propped her hands on her hips.
Dixie had read her share of silent help me messages from her brothers. The look Gavin sent her begged her to rescue him from the clutches of the evil buckle bunny. What the heck.
“Gavin and I have a date,” Dixie said.
“Pardon?” Veronica frowned.
“That’s right.” Gavin inched closer to Dixie and the scent of dust and faded cologne went straight to her head. When he rested his arm across her shoulders a little shiver raced down her spine. Gavin couldn’t have been more than six feet tall, but her five foot six inches fit perfectly tucked against him.
Veronica’s gaze bounced between Gavin and Dixie. “What kind of date?”
“A boy-girl date.” Dixie smiled sweetly.
“Honey, a girl like you can’t handle a military man.”
Dixie had heard that Gavin Tucker had been stationed in Afghanistan before he’d left the army. “What do you think, Gavin? Can I handle you?”
He grinned.
Disgusted, Veronica snorted like a pig and stomped off.
“Thanks.” Gavin released Dixie and stepped back.
Wishing he still had his arm around her, she said, “No worries. Veronica can be a pest.”
“Are you celebrating later with your lady bull rider friends?”
“Probably.”
“I’m heading over to the Spittoon. Maybe I’ll see you there.”
“Maybe.”
Gavin walked off and Dixie couldn’t help but think he was exactly the kind of man she’d like to marry someday.
* * *
GAVIN STEPPED INSIDE the Spittoon, a bar on the outskirts of Boot Hill, and surveyed the crowd. The place was packed, noisy, and smelled like stale beer, dusty cowboys and easy women. And he hoped Dixie Cash was among the clientele—not that he thought she was a party girl. There was something about the petite, tomboyish cowgirl that drew him. She showed the same courage and spunk as the women he’d worked alongside in the army.
He made his way to the bar, ordered a beer, then found a dark corner away from the crush of bodies. Keeping his back to the wall he searched for the blue-eyed brown-haired girl-next-door. He spotted her at a table next to the dance floor engaged in conversation with her friends. As if she sensed his scrutiny, their eyes connected and Gavin felt the subtle stirrings of arousal.
A former soldier had no business being with a girl like Dixie—that fact in and of itself fed Gavin’s desire, and adrenaline pumped through his veins. If there was one thing he was addicted to, it was adrenaline. After six years of living on the edge…living with danger…he was drawn to taking risks. And Dixie Cash was definitely a risk.
“Well, well, well.”
Gavin jumped an inch off the floor. Damn. How the hell had Veronica Patriot snuck up on him? His temper flared but he counted to ten, as a therapist had once instructed him to do when he felt threatened.
“What happened to your boy-girl date?” The buckle bunny narrowed her eyes.
“Dixie’s—”
“Here.” Dixie sidled up to Gavin and slipped her arm through his. She stood close enough that her soft breast pressed against his biceps.
“You’re not his type.” Veronica sneered. “Besides, don’t girls like you have curfews?”
“She’s right, Gavin. We should leave. It’s past my bedtime.” Dixie batted her dark lashes and suddenly Gavin’s jeans felt a size too small.
Reminding himself that Dixie’s flirting was an act to help him out of a tight spot, he said, “Ready when you are.”
“Don’t you want a real woman, soldier?” Veronica thrust her bosom out, flaunting her attributes.
After a lengthy glare-down, Veronica stepped aside and Gavin led Dixie across the dance floor and out the door. It wasn’t until they were almost to his truck that he realized he still held her hand. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Veronica had followed them outside.
“She doesn’t give up easily, I’ll give her that,” Dixie said.
“How would you feel about leaving with me in my truck?”
“I don’t know. Can I trust you?”
“Sugar, if I harm one hair on your head, your brothers will hunt me down.”
“You’re right. I’ll go for a ride with you.”
Ten minutes later… “She’s still following us.” Gavin glanced between the road and the rearview mirror. Dixie’s stomach growled and he threw caution to the wind. “You up for Chinese takeout? We could eat at the motel. If Veronica sees us go into my room together maybe she’ll give up.”
“I don’t believe that woman knows the meaning of surrender, but I won’t turn down a free meal.”
Veronica trailed them to the restaurant and then the motel where she parked across the lot, facing Gavin’s room. Ignoring their stalker, he and Dixie sat on the king-size bed, ate chop suey and watched the old spaghetti Western, A Fistful of Dynamite.
Near the end of the movie, Gavin peeked out the window. Veronica’s Mustang was gone. The woman had finally left him alone. He checked his watch—half past one in the morning. Time to drive Dixie back to the Spittoon so she could be on her way home. “Coast is clear.” He turned from the window.
Dixie lay curled in a ball on the bed, her hands folded neatly beneath her cheek, her chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths. In sleep, she appeared innocent and cuddly and he wanted to lose himself in all her sweet goodness. But Gavin didn’t dare crawl onto the bed with Dixie and risk falling asleep. He couldn’t take the chance he’d experience the recurring nightmare that had followed him home from Afghanistan. He lowered the volume on the TV and made himself comfortable in the chair. He’d gone many nights without a wink of sleep, but the longer he watched Dixie’s slumbering body the more exhausted he became.
The sun streaming through a gap in the curtains woke Gavin at the crack of dawn. He wasn’t sitting in the chair—he was lying on the bed. Sometime in the middle of the night he’d crawled under the covers. He rolled away from the light and came face-to-face with a wide-awake Dixie.
He held his breath, waiting for her to make the first move—she did. Her lips brushed his, then came back for more. One kiss turned into two…three…then clothes started flying off.
Chapter One
“Hello, Gavin.”
The saccharine voice raised a warning flag inside Gavin Tucker’s head. Bracing himself, he stepped away from the bucking chute at the Piney Gorge Rodeo and faced Veronica Patriot with a groan. “Veronica.”
The woman took buckle bunnying to a whole new level. She’d been pursuing Gavin since he’d joined the circuit back in May after he’d left the army. The middle of August had arrived and the blonde piranha showed no signs of tiring.
Gavin adjusted the spurs on his boots, hoping she’d take his silence as a hint and mosey along. At first, he’d found Veronica’s infatuation amusing. He’d become accustomed to pretty women fawning over him whenever he’d worn his military uniform and the same held true for his cowboy getup—Wranglers, boots and a Stetson.
Gavin’s ability to attract the opposite sex had come in handy during his furloughs from the army. One look at his combat boots and women had fallen into his bed willingly. He’d honed his survival skills on the battlefield and used them to pick ladies who wanted nothing from him but a good time and a goodbye. A sixth sense told him that Veronica had more on her mind than a quickie.
“You don’t appear all that happy to see your biggest fan.” She puckered her glossy lips.
A weaker man might tuck tail and run, but Gavin wasn’t easily intimidated. “I’m not interested in hooking up.” Ever.
“Did you and Dixie have a spat?”
Dixie Cash. The petite brunette hadn’t crossed Gavin’s mind since the morning he’d dropped her off in the parking lot of the Spittoon bar last month. He fought a smile as he recalled the first time he’d caught a glimpse of her—climbing onto a bull named Listless at the Canyon City Rodeo back in June. For an instant he’d seen in her a kindred spirit when Listless had thrown her. Dixie had limped from the arena with a smile on her pixie face as if she’d had the time of her life wrestling fifteen-hundred pounds of orneriness, then she’d stumbled over his gear bag and right into his arms. Her face had burned red and he’d thought her embarrassment oddly sweet.
“Dixie’s a friend.” Friend sounded better than one-night stand.
“I can be that kind of friend, too.” Veronica’s gaze dropped to Gavin’s crotch.
His face heated—not because of Veronica’s lewd stare. He’d made a mistake when he’d crossed the line with Dixie, yet he’d had no choice but to move on and put that night behind him.
Short of being mean, Gavin said, “Pick another cowboy. I’m not interested in what you’re offering.”
“When you tire of your little bull rider and decide you want a real woman, I’ll be waiting.”
One of Gavin’s competitors let out a wolf whistle as Veronica strutted off. “I wouldn’t complain if she followed me through the copper state.”
“Careful what you wish for,” Gavin mumbled. Now that he was rid of the annoying buckle bunny he checked the arena for Dixie. He recognized Shannon Douglas mingling behind the chutes with a few of the lady bull riders from the Boot Hill Rodeo, but Dixie was nowhere in sight. She’d probably viewed their one-night stand as a mistake, too, and wanted to avoid running into him.
Turning his thoughts inward, Gavin focused on his ride as he secured his protective vest. After wearing bulletproof gear as part of his military uniform, he felt comfortable in the constricting rodeo garment.
“Welcome to the Piney Gorge Rodeo and Livestock Show!” A thunderous din reverberated through the small outdoor arena. Gavin loved rodeo fans. The men and women were die-hard loyalists to the sport much the way soldiers were dedicated to their units.
“Up next this fine Saturday afternoon is bareback riding! Bareback horses are leaner and quicker than those used for saddle bronc riding and the cowboys sure do take a beating in this event.” The announcer paused.
A commotion in the cowboy ready area caught Gavin’s attention. The Cash brothers had arrived. Dixie had mentioned that her mother had named her siblings after country-western singers. Right then Johnny, the eldest Cash brother, spotted Gavin. The speculative gleam in the man’s eyes unnerved him. Had Dixie told Johnny she’d spent the night with Gavin in his motel room?
He and Dixie hadn’t made a big deal over sleeping together. He’d enjoyed—make that had really enjoyed—making love to Dixie, but the country girl wasn’t his usual type. The things he’d seen and experienced during his years in the military would only contaminate a young woman as pure as Dixie.
Johnny broke eye contact first, and Gavin shook his head to clear his thoughts. Today he intended to make it to eight. Luck hadn’t been with him this summer—the highest he’d placed was fourth. If he didn’t get his rodeo act together and pull off a few wins, he’d eat through his savings in no time flat and be forced to find a civilian job. Having to quit the circuit before he was ready was all the motivation Gavin needed to climb onto another wild bronc.
“Ladies and gentlemen, turn your attention to chute number three. Gavin Tucker from Phoenix, Arizona, is about to tangle with Cisco Kid, a bronc known for throwin’ cowboys on their heads. Let’s see if Tucker can best Cisco Kid.”
Gavin blocked out the arena noise as he fussed with his rigging—a heavy piece of leather with a suitcaselike handle attached to it. He flexed his gloved fingers until his grip felt comfortable. A deep breath later, he nodded and Cisco Kid bolted from the chute. Gavin marked out, ignoring the jolting pain shooting through his shoulder caused by the gelding’s powerful bucks and lightning speed.
The racket inside Gavin’s head quieted as the thrill of the physical torture the horse inflicted rushed through his body. Cisco Kid made a final attempt to spin but Gavin spurred harder and the bronc gave up. Feeling a victory at hand, he relaxed his guard too soon and Cisco Kid tossed him on his arse. Gavin missed the buzzer by one second. Back in the cowboy ready area he gathered his gear. This time he spotted Veronica before she startled him.
“Change your mind about me?” She’d brought a friend along—a redhead with glittery eye shadow. “Candi’s up for a little fun,” Veronica said.
A threesome? No thanks. Even in his wildest days, Gavin had never gotten into the kinky stuff. Call him old-fashioned, but one woman at a time was plenty. “Sorry, Veronica—” he swung his gaze to glitter girl “—and Candi. Gotta hit the road.” A ride in Wickenburg awaited him.
Candi popped a pink bubble with her chewing gum. “Maybe next time?”
Not a chance. He touched a finger to the brim of his hat then grabbed his bag and left the arena. The sooner he put a few miles between him and those two the better.
An hour down the road, Gavin noticed a billboard advertising Millie’s World Famous Hotcakes. He took the exit ramp and pulled into a parking lot crowded with eighteen-wheelers. Gavin found an empty stool at the end of the lunch counter. He rested his hat on his knee and flipped over the white mug in front of him.
A gray-haired waitress named Peggy strolled by with a coffeepot and filled the cup. “Didn’t make it to eight?” She offered a sympathetic smile.
“Not today.” Not in a long while.
“You ain’t alone, handsome.” Peggy nodded to a table where three cowboys sat, one with an ice pack strapped to his shoulder. “Special’s barbecue ribs and corn bread.”
“That’ll do.” While he waited for his meal he mulled over his schedule. The Wickenburg rodeo had a decent purse. If he made the final go-round he’d be guaranteed a share of the prize money. If he lost…he’d head down the road.
A self-admitted rodeo junkie, Gavin got high on the buzz and danger of riding bucking stock. Feeding his adrenaline addiction was his number one priority because it fueled his strength—strength he needed to run from the demons that had followed him home from war.
* * *
“HOW WAS THE RODEO?” Dixie asked her brother Johnny when he walked into the kitchen of their grandparents’ farmhouse early Saturday evening. She was dying for news about a particular bareback rider, but as soon as her brothers had returned from the Piney Gorge Rodeo they’d gone to their bedrooms to nap.
“Merle made it to the final round before getting thrown.” Johnny grabbed a beer from the fridge, then sat at the kitchen table. “Shannon said she hopes your ankle feels better soon.”
Dixie’s cheeks warmed. She’d discovered she was pregnant two weeks after the Boot Hill Rodeo in July. She’d hated to disappoint Shannon and give up the third thousand-dollar payoff, but she hadn’t dared risk the baby’s health. She’d told Shannon and the other women about her pregnancy but had asked that they keep it a secret and to tell anyone who inquired after her whereabouts that she’d sprained her ankle—the excuse she’d given her brothers when she’d told them she wasn’t competing today.
“Anything else exciting happen at the rodeo?” she asked.
“Depends on what you consider exciting.”
“I suppose Veronica Patriot was there.” Dixie fussed with the dishes in the sink while contemplating her dilemma—how to glean information about a certain cowboy without drawing her brother’s suspicion.
“Veronica’s hot on Gavin Tucker’s tail.” Johnny chuckled. “He got thrown in the first round then split.”
“Did Veronica leave the rodeo with Gavin?” Drat, the question slipped from her mouth.
“Why do you care if Tucker went off with Veronica?”
“I don’t.” After Dixie had spent the night in Gavin’s motel room she’d returned to the farm the following morning and confessed she’d stayed at a friend’s house because she’d had too much to drink at the Spittoon.
Johnny tossed his empty beer bottle into the garbage and made a beeline for the back door.
“Hey, you promised to fix the shelf in the barn cellar.”
“Conway said he’d take a look at it.”
Conway Twitty was the fifth born Cash son. All six of her brothers had different fathers. Only Dixie and Johnny shared the same daddy. Her mother had come full circle in her quest for the perfect man and had reunited with her first love, Charlie Smith, only to become pregnant with Dixie. Aimee Cash had never married any of the men she’d slept with, so Dixie and her brothers had taken her surname—Cash.
Dixie and Johnny had the same dark brown hair and blue eyes, which they’d inherited from Charlie. Their brothers had brown eyes and various shades of blondish-brown hair like their mother. “Conway’s preoccupied,” Dixie said.
“Is he still pouting because Sara broke up with him?”
“I think so.” Conway was the handsomest of her brothers and women fawned all over him, which derailed his love life on a regular basis. Each time he found the one, another woman would happen along and tempt him to cheat. Then when the one caught him two-timing, she’d send Conway packing and her brother would mope like a coon dog left home on hunt day.
“I’ll look at the shelf before I leave tonight,” Johnny said.
“You and Charlene have big plans?” Charlene was Johnny’s longtime girlfriend. They’d been together six years and Johnny had yet to propose.
“We’re going to the movies then back to her place afterward.”
None of her brothers brought their significant others to the farm. Paper-thin walls and shared bedrooms prevented any privacy, not to mention having only one bathroom in the house.
“What about you?” Johnny winked. “Got a hot date?”
Right then Dixie’s stomach seized and she bolted from the kitchen. She took the stairs two at a time then skidded to a stop in front of the bathroom door. One hand clamped over her mouth and the other pounding the door, she fought the urge to vomit.
“Go away! I’m reading,” Porter Wagoner shouted.
Ignoring the bedroom doors creaking open behind her and Johnny’s shadow darkening the top of the stairs, Dixie banged her fist harder. Blast you, Porter. She spun, intent on dashing outside, but Johnny blocked her escape.
Oh, well. Dixie threw up on his boots.
“Eew!” Willie Nelson chuckled.
“I’ll fetch the mop.” Merle Haggard leaped over the contents of Dixie’s stomach and hurried to the kitchen.
“Sorry.” Dixie wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.
“What’s all the commotion?” Porter emerged from the bathroom, his eyes widening at the mess covering Johnny’s boots.
“Have you been drinking Grandpa’s pecan whiskey, sis?” Conway asked.
She ignored her brother’s sarcastic joke.
“I see your ankle sprain has miraculously healed.” Johnny’s gaze drilled Dixie.
“You think it’s food poisoning?” Buck Owens asked in his usual quiet voice.
“No. I drank too much coffee today and skipped supper.” Growing up the youngest in the pack she’d learned from her brothers how to talk her way out of trouble.
Johnny pointed to the floor. “If all you’ve had to drink is coffee, what are those white chunks on my boots?”
Merle saved her from having to answer. “Here’s the mop,” he said, shoving the handle at Dixie.
Her stomach lurched and she tossed the mop back at her brother and fled to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Dixie offered up the remainder of her lunch to the porcelain god, then once her stomach settled, she sank to the floor between the toilet and the pedestal sink, too exhausted to face her brothers.
At only five weeks pregnant the morning sickness was hitting her hard. Amazing that her mother had gone through this so many times—by choice. Dixie holed up in the bathroom until the uproar in the hallway faded. Until Buck quit asking if she was okay. Until the shadows of her brothers’ boots disappeared from beneath the door. Then she brushed her teeth and gargled with mouthwash. When she emerged from the bathroom, the hallway was empty save for Johnny sitting at the top of the stairs.
Through thick and thin her eldest brother had always been there for her. Dixie sank down next to him on the step. “I’m twenty-three, Johnny. A grown woman. I can take care of myself.”
The hurt look in his eyes cut through her. She hated disappointing him and knew the last thing he wanted was for her to follow in their mother’s footsteps.
“Are you pregnant?” he asked.
“Yes.” She’d hoped to keep the secret a while longer—until she decided when and how to tell Gavin.
“Who’s the father?” he asked.
“I’m not ready to say.”
Johnny gaped. “The guy’s got a right to know he’s fathered a child.”
“I’ll tell him.” Eventually. When she was certain she could hold her ground with Gavin. Dixie had plans for the future and wouldn’t allow anyone—including the baby’s father—to interfere with them.
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth this morning when I asked why you weren’t going with us to the rodeo?”
“’Cause I knew you’d be mad.”
Johnny shoved a hand through his hair, leaving the ends sticking up. “I taught you about birth control.”
“We used a condom,” she said.
“Not the one I made you put in your purse when you were sixteen, I hope.”
She dropped her gaze.
“What the heck, Dixie! That condom was seven years old.”
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