Page 60 of All in with the Maverick Montana

“To take care of it.”

Wow. She’d considered the reality that Tru wanted nothing to do with this baby, but she never thought he’d ask her to ‘take care of it’.

“That won’t be necessary,” Amy said calmly, knowing he wasn’t referring to child support.

“Listen, I—”

Amy put her hand up, interrupting him. “I will not hold you responsible for a child you want no part of,” she said. “If that’s what’s really worrying you. I won’t blow up your life and your career. But I also won’t ‘take care of the problem’ the way you’re suggesting.” The moment she’d realized she was pregnant, she knew deep down that wouldn’t be an option she was taking. She’d always wanted to start her own family, whether biologically or through adoption. She also had enough financial resources to care for a child. She didn’t need Tru or his fame or his money. She would have this baby on her own and she would love it enough for both of them.

“Come on, Amy. Think about how much fun we could have together. I’m not ready to be a father right now.”

Amy arched her brow. That much was obvious.

“Are you really ready to be a mother?”

His question didn’t make her panic the way she thought it might. She knew next to nothing about having a baby or raising a child, but it didn’t fill her with fear. There were definitely nerves and excitement and a little anxiousness. Was she ready? Was she prepared? No. But she would be ready when the time came.

“Think about it,” Tru said, taking her hand and painting a picture of the life they might have. “You could travel with me.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “And I could treat you to the finest things.”

Only until he found someone new. He was probably just waiting for the ink to dry on the divorce papers. Amy wanted more for herself. More for her child. And she definitely wanted better than Tru McCoy. She looked up at him and sighed. “I think it’s probably time for you to go, Tru.”

He nodded once, turned from her, looked back, then set off down the porch steps. He didn’t even bother to argue with her and perhaps that was the most telling of all. She was never anything to him, just a good time.

He walked down the drive to his rented car and swung the door open. He looked up at her one more time. “Call me if you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” she said. “I promise.”

Tru climbed into his rental.

Amy watched him pull down the street. In a way, she supposed she owed Tru a debt of gratitude. He had given her the gift of clarity.

She pulled out her phone and called Josh. He didn’t pick up.

She ended the call, wondering if she’d lost two men in one day.

One thing was certain: she was going to have this baby. Regardless of whether she had anyone by her side to help raise it.

Chapter Seventeen

Sometimes Josh hated the damn creek Split Valley Ranch was built on. Not for the first time over the years did he consider filling the entire thing in with gravel.

He closed the passenger door of his truck with a hard thud, a coil of rope slung over his shoulder. He marched across the pasture to the edge of the creek, stopping just short of where the ground dipped sharply toward the water.

He looked down at the small calf that waded through the water, tail flicking. It looked up at him, making soft snuffling sounds.

“How’d you get yourself down here, huh?”

The calf responded with a half-hearted moo before carrying on down the creek.

“Now don’t go wandering,” Josh called as he carefully made his way down the short embankment. It was still slick with mud from the winter thaw and his boots slipped. He caught himself, his hand sinking into muck. He huffed and carried on.

He’d spotted the calf earlier on a ride around the property. Usually a baby this small wouldn’t stray far from its mother, so it must have been thirsty, and instead of using one of the water troughs, it had tumbled down the incline for a drink only to find it was a lot harder to get out again.

When Josh reached the creek bed, he winced. Water soaked through his boots and the bottoms of his pants. The creek was shallow for this time of year, barely up to his knees, but the calf darted away from him, forcing Josh to chase it.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Josh muttered, surging forward and catching the calf by the scruff. It fought against him, making displeased sounds. He was a fluffy little thing, his coat a deep russet brown. When he looked up at Josh it was with two shiny black eyes. “Behave,” Josh told the calf. “Or I have half a mind to leave you down here.”

The calf did not behave. It butted against his thighs as he attempted to get the rope secured so he could pull the little thing out of the creek. Every time he managed to get the rope over its head, the calf would shake it off. He needed one hand to hold the animal still, but he needed both hands to get the rope in place.