Finally letting it go felt like having a hundred pounds lifted off her shoulders. But God, what now? Would he be furious at her for keeping it a secret all this time?
But when Mack climbed down out of the cab, he took her face gently in her hands. “You’ll be a wonderful mother.” His voice was so soft it was barely a whisper. His eyebrows drew together. “But believe me, you don’t want me. You and Liam will raise that baby and be able to give them everything. The life they deserve.”
He was breaking her heart. Couldn’t he see that? “But—”
His eyebrows suddenly furrowed. “Should you still be doing the mustang competition?”
Oh so he cared about the baby in the abstract, as long as he didn’t have to ever see it?
She pulled away from him. “I changed my routine. I’m only doing one galloping pass and the rest is low impact stuff. A lot of experienced, professional women riders keep riding when they’re pregnant.”
She didn’t know why she was bothering to defend her choices to him. He didn’t want her. She wasn’t worth staying for.
“I’m sorry, Calla,” he repeated. “This just isn’t my path.”
She turned around and ran back toward the arena before his words could pierce her any deeper.
She heard a roar go up from the crowd beyond.
The opening ceremony was starting.
Somehow she had to put her heartbreak aside because she had a competition to win.
31
CALLA
“All right girl,” Calla patted Painter as she munched on hay from the hay net Calla had set up in the temporary stall. “It’s almost time.”
If she kept talking to Painter and focused on the competition, there wasn’t enough space left over to think about Mack. Right?
So why did her chest feel like a melon carver had been used to scoop out her insides?
“Calla! Thank Jaysus.”
“Liam!” Calla felt tears welling up in her eyes as Liam hurried toward her in the narrow path between makeshift stalls.
She climbed over the fence gate that made up Painter’s stall and flung herself into Liam’s arms.
“I need to talk to you,” he said urgently, grabbing her hands and looking nervously behind him again.
“What’s going on? Did Mack talk to you?”
She knew she should have told them both about the baby sooner. Her heart galloped as she waited for his answer, but he didn’t say a word. Instead he pulled her behind him down the path between the stalls. Other contestants watched them as they went.
“Liam, what are you—”
“Just a second. I want to get us somewhere private.”
“Okay, but Painter and I are on soon. The junior competition will be over in half an hour, so I can’t be gone too long—”
Liam just kept pulling her along until they were underneath the stands of the arena.
“Liam,” Calla said, tugging on the hand he was firmly gripping. “Talk to me.”
It was dim underneath the stands, but she could still see the tension on his face.
“I have something to tell you.” Liam finally said. “I want you to hear it from me first.” He looked around anxiously.
Um. Wasn’t that supposed to be her line?
“You’re scaring me.” She grabbed both of Liam’s hands. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?” Her eyes widened in fear. Oh God, what if he’d been diagnosed with something—
“No, no,” Liam shook his head rapidly and Calla felt almost lightheaded with relief. “Nothing like that.” He took a deep breath. “The thing is, I have a lot of money. Like, a lot.”
Calla blinked. What was he going on about? “So?”
Liam stared at her like he was waiting for some big reaction. “I’m a billionaire. Back in Ireland, me da owns Prism Media group. They’re the conglomerate that bought out half the European and Australian news companies and even one of the bigger American news corporations.”
Calla gave a tiny shake of her head. Where was he going with all this? “I know,” she said. “So?”
Liam frowned and pulled back a little. “What do you mean, you know?”
“Uh,” she shook her head, “yeah. You’re Liam O’Neill. Son of actress Ailis Duncan. Well, she became Ailis O’Neill, after she married your dad. But yeah. I know who you are.”
Liam jerked to his feet, staring down at Calla like she’d suddenly sprouted horns.
“What?” she asked, standing up and reaching for him, but he jerked his hand back.
“How do you know?”
She threw her hands in the air and shrugged. “I don’t know. They showed that movie, Irish Spring, the one that won all those awards, in the world cinema class I took in college. It was my favorite elective.”
Liam took another step back from her and raked a hand through his hair.
Calla didn’t know why he was so freaked out, but she kept going. “When I saw you at the bar last year, I thought you looked familiar. The more I thought about it, I finally realized who you reminded me of. Your mom. You look so much like her. When I googled her, I saw a picture of you two. You must have been a teenager when it was taken.” She smiled and lifted a hand toward him. “You had the most adorable floppy hair—”