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“I honestly don’t know anymore.” She laughed into my shirt. “Why?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sierra
Icould hear Pete hollering downstairs in the bar about something or the other. He’d been on edge the last few nights because the rodeo was coming to town, and apparently that was a bad thing… for him. Not the rest of the town, though. Business was booming everywhere. All the cute little shops on Main Street were filled with people who’d come to town, the bar downstairs was hopping, and it was only two in the afternoon!
I rubbed my arm where I’d just gotten an injection of the RH medication, the spot tender and a little sore. I was nervous, to say the least. Pete asked if I wanted to stop working at the bookstore for a little while, at least until I was in my second trimester. I agreed, even though I already missed having something, anything, to do during the day while he worked.
We needed groceries. Normally, Pete just ordered stuff for his apartment through the wholesaler that stocked the bar, but we’d been so busy lately and he hadn’t placed the order yet. I wasout of ice cream, which in my pregnant mind was an outright emergency. So, while Pete was carrying on downstairs, I pulled on my rain boots and shrugged on one of the Pete’s rain jackets—the green I liked that covered my butt all the way and fell around my knees like a dress. I pulled a hat over my hair, which was curling like mad because of the humidity. I smiled at myself in the hallway mirror before grabbing my purse and the keys to Pete’s truck.
I didn’t look pregnant yet, not bundled in several layers of clothing. But I had a new brightness to my eyes, and some ruddy color to my cheeks. I’d gained some weight, of course. Healthy weight, I liked to think. I looked… happy, maybe for the first time in my life.
I almost popped into the bar to tell Pete what I was up to but decided against it when I noticed the loud conversation and bustling crowd lingering out front. There was a small grocery store a few blocks away that Keely really liked. It had a bunch of local produce, meat, and that fancy ice cream she always brought to book club.
My stomach growled as I started driving through the busy town center, having to stop at practically every crosswalk to let crowds of people dressed in their western best pass, umbrellas raised high against the rain.
I had a sudden vision of Pete and me being part of the crowd, a small child in a knit cap holding our hands as we crossed the street. A child with curly blond hair like Pete’s, and big gray eyes like mine.
My heart skipped a beat.
I hadn’t really given myself a chance to envision a future where the three of us were together and happy. While Pete and I were doing all right now—living together and sharing a bed—we hadn’t talked about what this was between us in a long time. I knew that pretending to be a couple was one thing, and we were definitely putting on a show. But this felt like more than pretend now, and as the days turned into weeks, that discussion we needed to have felt more critical.
What would happen after our baby was born, especially now that he knew for certain the child was his?
I knew he wouldn’t abandon me, or the baby. But did he really want this kind of life—one where he had to settle down, put down roots, and be not only a father but a partner, maybe even a husband eventually?
He did have strong feelings toward me, but not love. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
I tried not to think about it as I pulled into the parking lot of the grocery, rain thundering down and a thick mist rising from the pavement.
I’m just emotional, that’s all.Irrational, grumpy, hungry, and pregnant. There is nothing to worry about,I told myself.
I grabbed a cart and stomped rain off my boots before heading inside. I took my time walking up and down each aisle, grabbing things I liked, as well as things I knew Pete enjoyed. He liked salty, and I liked sweet, now that I was feeling better and not throwing up every meal. Pete had an aversion to green things—especially spinach. He hated it. Whereas spinach was something I really liked.
We were very different people. I realized a while ago. Maybe that was why we worked, or maybe that’s why this wouldn’t work out…
“Stop it,” I told myself in a whisper as I grabbed a few bags of homemade pasta off a shelf, glancing at the label. Made by a local woman, apparently. I set the bags in the cart and moved on, absently grabbing a few jars of pasta sauce from the shelf before crossing to the next aisle.
Keely had been coming over every once in a while to teach me how to cook, and I was getting much better at it. I still couldn’t get the hang of steak, though. Pete liked it practically bleeding and still mooing. I always overcooked it.
I filled the cart with the chips he liked and grabbed some kettle corn for myself before moving on to the real reason I was here.
I spent far too long deciding between four different flavors of ice cream before putting all of them in the cart, grinning at my loot.
But then I felt like someone was watching me. It was an odd sensation that curled over my shoulders and down my spine. A shadow passed behind me and I turned.
Shock raged through me and over my skin, sending a chill up and down my spine despite my layers of warm clothes.
My mother stood only feet away, her gray eyes fixed on mine. Her bleach-blonde hair pulled tight into a slightly wet bun as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Oh, God.
“Mom,” I whispered, more to myself than to her. For a moment I thought I was just imagining the ice-cold woman standingbefore me, towering over me like she always had. I hadn’t inherited her height or slim build.
“What the hell are you doing, Sierra?” she hissed, taking a step toward me. I blanched, gripping the cart like it was a lifeline. “How long have you been in this… this horrid little town?”
“It’s not horrid—”
