Cowboy Baby Daddy

I felt sick, just thinking about the emotional turmoil she had been going through.

“I have to go back inside,” I told Buck. Strangely enough, I didn't feel angry at him, as I might have expected that I would. I couldn't even find it in me to be mad at Georgia, even though, once again, she had been meddling in my private affairs.

I remembered how she had shown up to my office that day that I had had Emma there. How she had shown up there again right after Olivia had told me that she was pregnant. She must have been watching my office, just waiting for Olivia to show up there. I wondered wildly whether Georgia knew that Olivia was pregnant, but despite the somewhat stalkerish way that Georgia seemed to go about things, I doubted she could know that. I hadn't heard any whispering around the town about it, and I assumed I would, as soon as Georgia knew. She would want to make certain that we knew the baby was Buck's.

Only it wasn't Buck's baby. It had to be mine.

I shook my head. This time, she had gone too far. But as with Buck, I didn't feel angry. I would need to have words with the woman, to let her know that this wasn't okay, but instead, I mostly felt numb. My worry for Olivia seemed to have taken over everything. I gave Buck one last look and then headed back inside, already trying to figure out what I could say to Olivia. I knew that I couldn't confront her there, not in front of everyone else.

In fact, this probably wasn't the time to talk to her about Buck's revelation. She was already dealing with her grief; I shouldn't make her deal with this drama on top of that. But watching her move around the room, seeming like she might burst into tears at any moment, I didn't know if I could continue to leave her alone when she was so obviously in need of comfort.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Olivia

As the reception dragged on, I started to feel more and more exhausted. It didn't help that I hadn't been sleeping well these past few days. I couldn't help but remember how well I had slept in Eric's arms, how gentle he'd been with me. But he seemed intent on not letting that happen again. I knew it was just that he thought I was in love with someone else, but I didn't know how to communicate to him how badly I needed him to comfort me.

It also didn't help that my heels were digging into my feet. I only had one pair of black shoes, and they weren't the most practical ones for standing around in all day. I regretted wearing them, but everything had happened so fast, and there hadn't been time to go out and find another pair. It was difficult and taxing enough to try to find a dress that fit me. It sounded stupid, but the process of shopping for a black dress that I could wear to my mom's funeral had reduced me to tears more than once, and I had a feeling it was going to be a while before I could face another changing room.

I grimaced just thinking about it.

On top of all that, there was also the emotional wear of the day. The ceremony had been beautiful, but hearing all those stories about Mom during her better times had been taxing. She'd been such a wonderful mother, neighbor, colleague, teacher. It was hard to believe that a couple of her students who had been in her classes over a decade ago, and whom she'd kept in close contact with, had cared so deeply for her that they had shown up to her funeral. They'd all had kind words to say about her.

Now, having to thank everyone for coming was adding to my stress. It seemed as though the whole town had turned out, and rather than saying a blanket 'thank you' to all of them, I felt obligated to thank each and every one of them personally. Mom had always been a stickler for etiquette. Not that I knew what proper etiquette was when it came to a funeral.

Nor did I know how much longer I could hold it together. It seemed like they were all watching me carefully, as though I were a fragile piece of glass. Everyone was expecting me to break down at any moment. I tried to hold it together, as best as I could, but I had a feeling I was going to need to excuse myself to the restroom soon, to have a moment to myself.

I had to get through the event. I'd give myself just a moment in the restroom, and then I'd come righ

t back out.

Suddenly, just as I made that decision and started to move toward the door, Eric appeared beside me, his hand warm against my elbow as he steered me outside. “What's going on?” I asked him, shocked that he had come to speak to me at all. From the way he'd been looking at me in the reception hall, I had thought that he wasn't going to, especially not after he'd seen Buck come up and give his condolences.

“I'm taking you home,” Eric said gruffly, steering me toward his car.

“But I haven't finished thanking everyone,” I protested.

“I'm sure they'll all understand,” Eric said exasperatedly. Then, his tone softened as he gave me a searching look. “You look like you're about to collapse. When was the last time you had anything to eat?”

I winced, a guilty look stealing across my face, but he just smiled gently at me. “Come on,” he said. “I know Christina and Margaret, and some of your mom's other friends, arranged to have food sent directly to your place rather than to the reception. I'm sure you'll feel better once you get something warm into you. I noticed you didn't touch the buffet at the reception.”

He opened the car door for me, and I sighed and collapsed into the seat as though all my strings had been cut. I knew that I should eat, but I didn't really feel like it at the moment. Nor did I feel like fighting him on it, though. I was just grateful to him for getting me out of there, whatever the reason.

The first thing I did was bend down and take off those shoes. Eric smiled at me as he got in, watching what I was doing. But he didn't comment, instead driving silently back to my house. I concentrated on my breathing, trying my best to not go to pieces on him again.

I wanted to ask him why he was doing this, why he had again come to my rescue, just like he had at the hospital. But I didn't want to hear that it was just his duty as a doctor to make sure that I got home okay, that I didn't faint with exhaustion.

Some secret part inside of me wanted it to be more than just kindness spurring him on. Some secret part of me wanted to know that he was here because he loved me as much as I loved him.

I blushed, hardly believing that I had even thought those words to myself. Not now, not at such an inappropriate time. Besides, Eric had made it clear that he couldn't love me. He didn't even believe that the baby was his.

Back at the house, he again led me inside. He sat me down on the couch. “I'm going to go get you a glass of water,” he said gently. He grinned. “I'd get you something stronger, but I wouldn't want it to have any negative effect on our baby.”

I stared incredulously up at him, wondering if I had just heard him correctly. Wondering if that was just a Freudian slip. “Our baby?” I asked.

Eric looked momentarily stricken and then sat down next to me on the sofa, moving carefully, as though he was afraid of frightening me. He ran a hand back through his hair. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “I know that this is the last thing that you want to talk about right now.”

“What is?” I asked, confusion flaring inside of me.