Best Friend's Ex Box Set

“Speaking of bedrest, why weren’t you resting when I pulled up? You were bent over fussing with something when I pulled into the driveway.”

“You spying on me, Mr. Smith?” she asked coyly.

“Only if I get a nice look at that wonderful backside of yours.”

“I think there’s a mouse in the house. I hear it scurrying, but I can’t find it.”

“I’ll set out some traps before we get to bed. Sound good?” I asked.

“Perfect,” she said. I dug into the arch of her foot, and her eyes fluttered closed. Her ankles were swelling so bad I could no longer see their protrusion, and I started to wonder if that was something to be worried about. Bedrest was common for women in their third trimester, and the doctor said it was only precautionary, but I was ready for him to come back over and check on her. The last time he’d come, her blood pressure was a bit high, and she was a little too anemic for his liking.

“How have you been feeling today?” I asked her.

“Do you ever think about Bill?”

Her question ceased my movements.

“Why?” I asked.

“I mean, he went into witness protection, right?”

“Yeah. Sold out all his contacts to the FBI. Why are you suddenly wondering about him?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I guess with Rick getting out soon and everything, it’s all just coming back.”

I set her feet down and got up off the floor. I had a feeling she might be worried about that, so I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her swollen, beautiful body into the crook of mine.

“You know he’ll be tracked for quite some time after he gets out of jail,” I said. “You won’t have to worry about him coming around here, either. I’ve still got those cameras up.”

“I know, I know. I just…”

I knew she was thinking about the letters he’d written us from jail. Apparently, he’d found God and was feeling all sorts of guilt and remorse for what he’d done, but none of us k

new if it was really true. He sent letters every week for a while, but then they dissipated to once a month. One of the reasons I hired Rick was because he was down and out and had no family, and part of me was wondering if he was simply reaching out because he was lonely.

“You think he’s just doing it to sway the parole board?” Cheyenne asked.

“I honestly don’t know. I mean, I hope it’s true. I hope he feels terrible for what happened and what he put you through, and I hope he gets out and does something productive with his life. But I need you to know that you’re safe here. Both of you. Forever, as long as I’m here.”

I put my hand on her stomach, and I automatically felt another kick. Cheyenne grimaced at the feeling, but I couldn’t help the smile that slid across my lips. My little girl would be a fighter, just like her mother, and there was a part of me that took pride in the idea of raising a strong, independent young woman.

“Do you ever regret it?” I asked.

“Regret what?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” I said with a snicker.

I wondered some days. I wondered—with the life we had cultivated and the roadblocks we still hit sometimes with expansion and money—if she ever regretted not taking the job that was offered to her at the silent auction all those years ago. I wondered if there were moments where she envisioned her life going differently. I wondered sometimes if maybe she wanted to leave and try to venture out on her own again.

I twirled the sparkling diamond ring on her left hand that I had given her just before we found out we were pregnant, and I took her hand and brought it to my lips to kiss.

“Well, it really would’ve set me up nicely,” she said. “A retirement plan and weekends off. I wouldn’t have to deal with ordering stuff or dealing with hiring helping hands. I could have gotten out of this town that reminds me sometimes of all the bullshit we endured.”

I held her close to me and closed my eyes. Images of her barn on fire flashed through my mind. Images of the terror in her eyes when she first heard that deafening silence as the horse trapped in the barn grew still. The memory of the flames tugged at my heart and clenched my throat.

In the history of my lifetime, I had never felt so helpless and scared as I was at that moment when Cheyenne was hurting over the loss of that horse.

“And I also bet the helping hands at that horse sanctuary would have provided some grade-A eye candy,” she said, with a grin.