Heartless: A Small Town Single Dad Romance
Heartless: Chapter 31

Summer: Is Cade okay?

Willa: Yes. A couple of broken fingers. Will need 6-8 weeks to heal. So he’ll be an extra grumpy bitch for the foreseeable future.

Summer: Could have been worse. Luke is asleep. All good here.

Willa: Hey, Sum, has Winter responded to any of your messages?

Summer: No. I keep sending them anyway. I know she’s reading them. Why?

Willa: Because she’s our doctor tonight.

Summer: How does she look?

Willa: Sad.

“Winter,” I whisper-shout as I follow her down the beige hallway with a random green stripe down the middle of the wall. Why the hell do hospitals do that? It doesn’t make them any more appealing. “Winter, stop.”

Summer has been trying to contact her for a year but gets shut down at every turn. I’m not leaving this hospital before I talk to her.

She rounds the corner but stops in a little alcove that plays host to a couple of vending machines.

“What?” she snaps primly, nose tipped up as she stares down at her nails.

I’ve known Winter since we were teenagers. When Summer was in the hospital, we spent some time together. Winter isn’t as bad as everyone has made her out to be. She’s been dealt a shit hand.

One that money and education can’t undo. What Winter is missing is love.

I stare at her, breathing more heavily than the distance I just covered warrants. “I just want to give you a hug,” I say.

Her long lashes blink slowly, and she’s forced to look up at me because these sisters stopped growing at like twelve or something. “A hug?”

I realize now how rough she looks. Too thin. Too tired.

“Yes, girl.” I open my arms. “Get your scrawny ass over here.”

She glances away for a moment, like the bag of hickory sticks in the vending machine is super interesting. And then her shoulders droop and without meeting my eyes, she steps into my arms.

She sighs when she does, and so do I. It’s amazing how the adults around you can fuck everything up. That’s what happened with Summer and Winter—and I was there to watch it all go down.

I was also there in the hospital, sitting by Summer’s bedside, when Winter would sneak out of the house to be with her too. But only if Summer was sleeping. It’s an unspoken secret Winter and I have kept for years.

Everyone thinks Winter didn’t care, but I know better. She loves her little sister, even though her mom has made her feel like she shouldn’t. Even if she doesn’t know how to show it.

Their dad, Kip Hamilton, isn’t perfect, but he’s also not evil incarnate like Winter’s mom.

I think of Luke, and how different his life might have been if Cade and Talia had stayed together and been miserable.

He could have been these girls.

“How is life?” I whisper, and she doesn’t let me go. In fact, her fingers curl into my jean jacket and grip me like I’m her only lifeline on a sinking ship.

“Everything is fine.” Her voice cracks, and I feel her chest hitch when she sighs. “Fuck. That’s not true. Everything is a mess. And I lost the baby.”

My stomach hollows out and I almost feel nauseous. A year ago when everything blew up between her and Summer, she was pregnant.

She’s still clutching at me as she speaks. “And on one hand, I’m devastated because I tried for so long. And on the other, I’m relieved because I don’t have to be tied to him for the rest of my life. How awful am I?”

Her laugh is watery and my eyes widen. Winter has never been emotional. She’s always icy and reserved—especially in adulthood. I hardly recognize the woman clinging to me.

“You are not awful.” And I mean it. No one deserves to live in a world where the only family they have are an unfaithful husband and a manipulative mom. “You deserve so much better, Winter.”

She hums, like she isn’t so sure.

“Are you still together?” I ask, referring to the living, breathing trash she married.

“Sort of,” is her strained reply.

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

She squeezes me harder. God, this woman needs to be hugged so badly. “I know,” is her soft reply. “I’m just glad Summer has you. God knows the rest of us didn’t do her any good.”

Shocked by what she just said, I pull away and stare back at the woman before me. She’s always cool and removed, impossible to get a read on. “What are you doing here in Chestnut Springs?”

She sniffs and rubs her nose before stepping out of my hold. “I took a rotation out here. Seemed like a good way to spend time away from him a few days at a time.”

Him. Her douchebag husband. The one she needs to leave and should have left a year ago.

I can’t help but wonder if the proximity to her estranged sister played any role in choosing this hospital.

“Summer would love to talk to you. Hell, see you. That door is always open, you know that, right?”

Her eyes roll, and it’s like I can see her shields shoot back up before my eyes. “Yes. The constant text messages she sends have driven that point home.”

“So? Take her up on it. She loves you, whether or not you want to believe it.” Winter scoffs, back to looking at her nails. “You got something stuck under there?” I ask because she’s being rude. “My eyes are up here, Winter.”

“How am I supposed to do that? Just waltz back into my sister’s life after everything that’s gone down between us? After the way I’ve treated her? She must hate me.”

“Yes, Winter. That’s exactly what you do. Because she does not hate you.”

“I’m . . . I don’t know how to mend this. I’m embarrassed,” she confesses quietly.

“Don’t be. We all need a fresh start now and again. Come hang out sometime. Maybe you’ll even have fun.”

She snorts at my suggestion. “With the two of you? Why would I even try? You and Summer are so tight, I bet you get your periods at the same time. Totally synched up. I remember you two binging junk food every month and complaining about your cramps.”

I laugh but stop as I process the words. Pre-period I’m always extra-bitchy. I’m a couple of days into my placebo pills for the month but nothing has started.

The other day, Summer complained about her cramps, and I just tittered like a sex-drunk idiot.

The blood drains from my face. It feels like it pools in my feet and grows heavy there as questions circulate in my mind, questions I haven’t even let myself think about.

“Are you okay?” Concern laces Winter’s tone.

“I . . .” My palms come up to rest on my cheeks. How did I miss this? “Fuck. What’s the date today?”

Winter’s eyes scan me, intelligence flashing in every glance. “Oh shit,” she says, rearing back a little. “Did you let that cowboy knock you up, Willa Grant?”

It’s dark by the time we hit the road again, which suits me fine because Cade can’t see my face as well under the cover of night.

He’s tired. I’m tired.

I’m in shock.

Winter tracked me down a pregnancy test while Cade had his fingers casted. It came back positive for a tiny Eaton, and I just sat in the waiting room staring into space.

Winter stayed for a while. She wasn’t overly comforting, but it was nice to have someone with me all the same. She was quiet and withdrawn as soon as the test came back positive.

It was awkward.

“You okay?” Cade asks, jolting me from my thoughts.

“Me? Yeah? Fine. Why?” I turn slightly to peek at his furrowed brow and beautifully crafted face. I’m not even mad, I’m not even sad. I’m oddly at peace with the whole thing.

But I am worried about him.

“Because you’re gripping the steering wheel like you’re trying to strangle it.”

“Ah,” I say with a nod.

“Did Winter say something to you? Do we like her? Do we hate her? Am I supposed to be mad at something with you? Because I will be if you are. Just tell me how to be supportive.”

Fuck, he’s sweet. His voice is all rough edges and deep grumbles, but I know he means what he says.

I just worry that after being trapped by one pregnancy, he’ll feel the same all over again. He’ll feel confined. He’ll be stuck providing for a woman and a baby that he never really got to be sure he wanted.

Again.

“No,” I reply softly, “Winter was great. I’m hoping her and Summer can mend this thing between them. I think they both need it.”

“I’m going to be fine, you know.” He reaches across the center console for my hand, twining his fingers with mine, forcing a soft sigh from my lips. I always feel better with his hands on my body.

More grounded. More myself. More confident.

I’m more myself with Cade Eaton than I’ve ever been, and now I’ll have to wonder if he feels the same, or if he’s going through the motions out of a sense of duty. Again. Our relationship is in its infancy, and as much as I realize I do want a family—with Cade even—I can’t say that I saw it playing out quite like this.

“I know,” I say, but I don’t know if I believe it. And I don’t know if things will ever be the same between us once I say this out loud to him. How could he possibly be fine with this happening to him again?

I know I need to tell him. I can feel the words building in my throat the closer we get to the ranch. The more he strokes my hand, the more flustered I get, and the guiltier I feel for sitting here wordlessly for the past fifteen minutes.

We drive in silence, but I sense he knows something is up because I’m not my normal, chatty self. I can see him tossing nervous glances my way, like he’s totally out of his depth.

But so am I.

When we pull up at the house, I put the truck in park but stay staring out the front windshield.

“Look, Red, I’m trying not to be a domineering asshole, but I want to know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. I can see the gears turning. I can tell by the way you’re sitting. By the tension in your hand. Usually I can’t get you to shut up unless I stuff your panties in your mouth. So this?” He gestures between us. “This is weird.”

A raw laugh lurches out of me, and tears spring up in my eyes. I pull my hand from his to rub at my face, to bring some circulation back to my head, because I feel like I’m living in some alternate dream world. Like this can’t really be happening to me.

It feels like the best way to do this is to rip off the Band-aid. Fast, painless—get it over with because I can’t handle these levels of anxiety in my body.

“I’m pregnant.”

Those two words come out sure and steady. So much surer and steadier than I feel right now.

Cade stares at me blankly. His mouth pops open and closes again, and then he shakes his head, like it might make reality seep back in.

“Surprise?” I add awkwardly. “I’m sorry,” I add even more awkwardly.

My head is spinning, and I’m feeling like I could use a moment alone to get my bearings—to process this—because saying it out loud to him feels so much more real. “I just found out at the hospital and have been trying to replace the courage to tell you. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I didn’t do this on purpose.” He blinks at me. “I swear I’m on birth control, but apparently barfing it up for two days straight isn’t ideal.”

His hand slides over his stubbled chin as he sucks in a breath. Oh god, he’s not saying anything, and my anxiety is growing exponentially, doubling.

Like cells.

Fuck. What is wrong with my head?

“You’re just so young.” Not the words I wanted to hear right now.

“Good God. You act like I’m a clueless teenager! I’m twenty-five! Stop treating me like I’m a child. That excuse is insulting.” I huff out an agitated breath. “I think I need a night alone to just process this.”

He scowls at me and still says nothing, so I just keep talking. “Yeah. Yeah. That’s what I need. And you do too.”

I’m starting to spin out. I stare down and rifle through my oversized purse to replace his painkillers, feeling a full-on freak-out like I’ve never had coming on. My hand wraps around something long and slender and I pull out . . . a carrot?

My eyes water and panic rises, and I just toss it in the back seat.

“Was that a carrot?” is the first thing Cade says to me since I told him I was pregnant with his baby.

An excellent sign, to be sure.

I finally replace the bottle of painkillers Winter dropped in the room before leaving with a gentle goodbye. “Here.”

“Why is there a carrot in your purse?”

Jesus. I’ve really broken his brain. Who can blame him though?

“I’m going to sleep at the main house tonight.”

He blinks. “Like hell you are.”

I jump out of his truck, taking the few strides over to my Jeep before clambering into the driver’s side seat. Am I handling this well? Probably not. But I’m having a moment, and all he’s doing is scowling at me and asking me about the carrot.

Cade grabs the door of my Jeep before I can close it and glares at me.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m very aware that I’m not handling this well.”

“We need to talk,” is all he says, and it sounds so foreboding that dread settles in my stomach.

“I need a night alone. To gather my thoughts. So do you.”

I expect him to argue, and there’s a little part of me that wants him to throw me over his shoulder the way he did that day Luke and I hid from him. He slapped my ass and laughed, but this time he gives me a terse nod, and my stomach sinks.

He slams the door and pats the hood as I woodenly twist the keys in the ignition. I suck in a deep breath before shifting into drive. I pull away, feeling shaky and teary and totally lame for leaving him there after dropping that bomb.

I see his outline standing in the driveway even as I round the corner.

And my last thought before I lose sight of him is that he deserves better than being back here again. Because he’s so damn honorable that he’ll stick himself with me and this baby.

Even if it’s not really what he wants.