Page 19 of Kicking Up Dust

Looks like curiosity is my latest reason to stay alive.

At least until the first.

ELEVEN

BLAIR

16 Weeks

Baby is the size of a championship belt buckle

I’d put off telling Colt for way too long. To be fair, originally, I just wanted to get out of the first trimester, but then I went on his Instagram and he’d posted a picture of him at some rodeo event and he just looked so… happy that I didn’t want to ruin it.

Or rather, I didn’t want to face the potential reality that someone—especially her father—may consider baby bear “bad news,” so I put it off until graduation.

After graduation, I planned to postpone it again, but Chelsey stole my phone and typed the first message to Colt to break the ice and I couldn’t very well just stop talking to him. I wanted my baby to have a father.

But as Stephanie kept reminding me, Colt may very well be stoked to be a dad. Or at the very least, he may step up and help me out financially, which I didn’t want to need, but… well… I did.

Or, my daughter did, at least.

I tried to keep reminding myself of that. I was doing what was best for her. Even if it was scary. Even if it was hard. She didn’t ask to be put into the womb of a broke college foster kid, so the least I could do for her was my absolute best.

Blair

I’m here.

I’d sat in the motel parking lot for as long as I could. We’d planned to meet up before his event to hang out and then ride together to the arena and back afterward, but I’d tried to wait it out so that there wouldn’t be much hanging out time before we had to leave.

As though the universe knows exactly what it’s doing to me, it’s even started to rain while I’ve been in the car.

With a sigh and the knowledge that this would probably be over with soon, I grab the folder of research I’d done and get out of the rental car. I’d never be able to pay Stephanie and Chelsey back for everything they’d done for me, least of all for putting together the money to rent me this car and the motel room I’d spend tonight in.

Colt’s unlocking the door and jerking it open by the time my feet reach the sidewalk outside his room. He looks… different. There are bruises under his eyes that make me think he hasn’t slept in weeks, and he has stubble. Maybe it’s my mind playing tricks on me. I’d only seen him in person once, after all.

“Hey,” he says with a breathless grin, dimples popping and lighting up his face despite the haggardness.

My stomach flips unfairly. “Hey. Sorry I’m late. Traffic sucks.”

His eyes flick to the very empty road, but he doesn’t comment.

“Yeah, Fort Worth can be busy,” he says instead amicably, pulling the door open wider to let me pass. His motel room is much cleaner than it was last time, and if my stomach wasn’t in my throat, I’d make a joke. “Want me to take your jacket?”

I shake my head. The hoodie is the only reason I’m able to pass as not being four months pregnant.

“No, it’s fine. I run cold.”

He nods, though I can see what he’s thinking. It’s June. In Texas. No one runs so cold that they need a hoodie in Texas’ summer humidity, not even at night.

“What’s that?” he asks, gesturing to the folder.

The plan had been to just spew it all out and then leave, but I can’t make the words come.

“Could you, um, maybe sit down?”

I chance a look up at him. His brows are furrowed. “Are you alright? You sorta look like you need to be the one sitting down.” But I’m already shaking my head before he can finish his sentence, and he sits at the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?”

Thrusting the entire folder into his hands hadn’t been in the plans, but I can’t help it.