Page 41 of Derecho

“Have at it. I’ll just sit in one of those chairs over there, and you can swing by to pick me up when you’re ready to go.”

“You don’t want to pick anything up? My treat. It wouldn’t hurt to have a few things⁠—”

“I’m good. I’ve got a shopping cart online I need to finalize and…I’d rather wait until I figure out where I’m going to be once the baby comes.”

“I don’t think Lachlan would want to hear you talking like that. But, I was thinking about the safe house, and how maybe⁠—”

“No. No, that place is not for me. You’ve worked so hard to get it built while recovering from your injury and everything that happened…I can’t take that from you. I won’t.”

“So, you’ll stay with Lach.”

“Birdie,” I groaned, grabbing the blood pressure monitor closest to me and flipping the box over. They all looked exactly the same, and I honestly just wanted to get home and take a nap.

No. Not home. Back to the ranch.

“You really don’t think he wants a hugely pregnant woman—who is about to turn into a postpartum hormonal nightmare with baby screams added in for free—to stay with him forever, do you?” I asked her.

“Well, yeah. I kind of did. Seeing the two of you together…I don’t know. There’s something there.”

“Yeah,” I scoffed, swapping the box in my hands for the cheapest one offered. I didn’t need bells and whistles. This would be fine. “A really weird friendship, that I’m fully taking advantage of and I feel awful about doing that. So I’m going to fix it. Lach worked on my car, and I looked online last night. There’s a commercial kitchen in Lark Lake that has an opening. It’d mean a really long day of cooking and deliveries, but I’ll be fine. There’s this little house on Mulberry that is for rent, and I could make it work in a few weeks, if I started taking orders right after the baby’s born.”

“You know I’ll take my house off the market for you. I can rent it to you.”

“No. I appreciate that. But Greg knows that house, and I’d rather not be there. I’ll figure it out. I don’t need you, or Lach, or anyone else trying to help. It’s just too much…” Guilt. I couldn’t say it, the word burning in my throat as it tried to escape. Because I hadn’t been strong enough to stop myself from getting into this situation. And I knew I had to dig out from the hole I was in by myself.

My sister stared back at me, her eyes shining like she was holding back tears. God, from the way my throat ached, I realized I was, too. Before I could clear my throat, I winced as the little invader kicked my side then stretched his butt up into my ribs.

“Okay. I’m proud of you for having a plan, and knowing what you want to do. I’m going to go get what I need for Juniper.”

“And I’m about to head over to those chairs.”

My sister disappeared around the corner while I turned to head over to the pharmacy, where I’d seen three empty chairs that I’d swear had my name written right on them.

A sale on fever reducers for babies caught my eye for a second. God, I was going to be calling Birdie nonstop. I had no idea about what you could or couldn’t give to a baby. What age was okay to start over the counter medications, what you needed to avoid⁠—

“Why aren’t you answering my fucking calls?”

Greg’s voice wrapped menacingly around me as his hand slipped over my arm. I winced from the pressure of his fingers tugging me toward him.

“I—”

“Where the fuck have you been?”

I yanked my arm back, stumbling as the motion made my balance go off kilter. “Somewhere safe. I’ve been somewhere safe.”

“That’s rich. I knew Birdie wasn’t telling me the truth about not knowing where you were. So what? You’re staying out at the ranch now? I bet Beau and Birdie love having to look after you. That’s pathetic. Truly.”

“It’s none of your business. I told you, we’re through.”

“As long as that baby is in your belly, we aren’t through. Not by a long shot. I’ll take him. No judge is going to give custody of a baby to a homeless mother.”

I took a deep breath to try and stop myself from reacting to his threat. “And no judge is going to take a baby away from its mother, to give it to an abusive father who has an active request for protection against him in the court system.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching dangerously. Why was I provoking him? He could say whatever he wanted to, and it didn’t matter. Lach had promised⁠—

“It’s not active. Ask your little deputy buddy who tried to file it for you. You’re going to regret doing that. My father⁠—”

“Babe.” A soft voice filtered into our whispered conversation from behind Greg. I moved closer to the stocked shelf, expecting whoever it was to go by, but Greg’s face shifted. From hatred to a…softness I hadn’t seen in a very long time.