“You mean a shotgun wedding?” Becca said, massaging her abdomen. “No, but I can’t have the baby then keep living with my dad the way we are now, like strangers, either. He’s so disappointed in me. That wouldn’t be fair to an innocent child.”
Becca sounded surprisingly mature. Weird that they were in the same situation. Becca faced a private scandal at home, while Elizabeth’s own unplanned pregnancy would give those in town who considered her to be Ms. Perfect a field day. Also, there was her mother to reckon with. She didn’t want to think about that. This conversation was for Becca, who, for once, seemed to be more in control than Elizabeth. Keeping her pregnancy a secret made them seem less than equals, which was unfair, as it was with Dallas. “Becca, if I tell you something, can you keep it to yourself?”
Becca’s gaze sharpened. “Sure.”
Elizabeth took a breath. “I feel that while Olivia’s been gone, you and I have gotten closer. I do hope we’re friends by now. So, I thought you should know. You’re not alone in this, sweetie. I’m—uh—I’m pregnant too.”
“Oh, that’s lovely. Congratulations, Elizabeth. But why don’t you want anyone to know?” Then Becca seemed to remember Elizabeth’s divorce and thus that Harry might not be the responsible party. “Oh,” she said again. “I hope your baby’s father is happier about that than Calvin was.”
Elizabeth had to overlook Becca’s statement. “Remember when I told you about my miscarriage last year? Sometimes I still walk around the house at night, grieving.” She saw Becca’s eyes well with tears. “You know how I make myself feel better then? Ice cream,” she said, hoping to make the girl smile. “Most recently, butter pecan. But I don’t mean to make light of things. When I found out I was pregnant again, I knew what a blessing this is. My baby will be a welcome addition to the family I already have. It won’t be easy, but I never considered any other option.” Elizabeth held her gaze. “What do you see as yours, Becca?”
She shuddered. “I already love my baby too, but how could I take care of it when I can hardly take care of myself? That’s what Calvin said. This job...the money I make alone would never support a baby. I’d be the worst single mom on the planet.”
Becca faced a truly hard choice.
So did Elizabeth. Her work on the rodeo had already thrust her back into the spotlight she’d hoped to avoid. Dallas had been right, before her children came home, that any gossip wouldn’t hurt them, but once the news of the baby came out, she’d feel humiliated again, even more personally this time. The speculation then would be world-class, worthy of the best paparazzi. And her kids would suffer. She doubted Dallas would commit to stay, commit to her, as if that were a viable solution. He had responsibilities to his mother, his career. And, still in her first trimester, what if she did miscarry again? That fear was never far from her mind.
“Have you thought about adoption?” Elizabeth asked.
“No,” Becca murmured. “I mean, I have—I tried to think of everything—but I’d be giving up my baby. I’d never see him or her again, would I?”
“In an open adoption maybe you could, if that’s what you’d want to do, but it could be painful seeing the child all the time yet not being a true part of its life.”
“He—or she—would have a good home, though. I’d make sure of that.”
Becca seemed to be growing up before her eyes. Adoption would free her of responsibility for a helpless human being she couldn’t afford to raise on her own; the baby would live in a more secure, maybe even prosperous home. Which didn’t take away from the heartbreak Becca would likely feel.
The bell above the door chimed in the front room, interrupting Elizabeth’s thoughts, and a customer walked in.
“Back to work. We can talk later or whenever you want,” Elizabeth told Becca.
“Thank you.” With a flush on her cheeks, Becca disappeared into the storeroom to take inventory of the newest rugs from Kedar. And probably to ponder her difficult, life-changing decision.
When she’d taken that first pregnancy test, Elizabeth had made hers. With every cell of her being, she would protect her unborn child. For the moment, she busied herself and blocked any other thought by dusting the knickknacks out front.
If she told Dallas about the baby now, she’d needlessly complicate their temporary relationship. She had a little time left before she began to show.
Maybe she would tell him right before he left town for good.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ELIZABETH WAS PULLING out of her driveway the next morning when she realized the same house lights had been on next door for the past several days, not that she was keeping track of Dallas. His mail wouldn’t pile up outdoors because all the homes on this street had brass slots in the front door. His truck was gone. Where was he? They had PR issues to discuss, if not personal ones.
Elizabeth backed out onto the street and headed through town toward the McMann ranch. She’d planned to see Clara today anyway.
“Scads of people want to enter our baked goods contest,” Clara announced, meeting her at the door, all smiles. “Some are interested in showing their melons and tomatoes too! I know there’ll be others.”
“You’re doing a fantastic job,” Elizabeth said, following Clara into the ranch office and taking a seat. Clara seemed to have found a new purpose in life even beyond her devotion to Hadley’s and Jenna’s twins. Elizabeth reached for a piece of chocolate from the box between them. “About the rodeo, I’m concerned. Do you know where Dallas is? I don’t think he’s here in Barren,” she said with a question in her voice.
“He’s not, dear. I’m afraid his mother’s in the hospital again. As soon as he got the call the other day on
