The True Cowboy of Sunset Ridge (Gold Valley #14)(77)

“Yes,” he said. “I was there the whole time.”

“Thank you,” she said.

She sat next to him, her legs giving out. And she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Tell me about it.”

She looked up at him. “She had a placental abruption. She’s only twenty-eight weeks. The baby can survive. But... I hate this. I’ve seen happy and sad outcomes. You don’t work in the business of childbirth without seeing things you wish you didn’t.”

“You didn’t have to stay,” he said.

“No. I had to stay. It was important that I stay.”

“This isn’t an easy business, is it?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Why do you do it?”

A sob shook her shoulders, and she knew she couldn’t keep it back. Not anymore. She had to tell him. Because it just felt right. Sitting here in this hospital birthing center that reminded her so much of the one that she’d been in all those years ago. “Because I know what it’s like,” she said. “Because... Because I had a baby. And she was stillborn.” She looked at his face, waiting for something. Waiting for horror or judgment or anger. But it wasn’t there.

It was very carefully neutral, in a way that scared her a little bit, but at least that neutrality gave her space to speak.

“I was fifteen. Nobody knows. Nobody but... Nobody but Jared. And I guess... I guess that was why I stayed with him. Because we went through that together, and he was actually good. He was a fifteen-year-old boy who had gone through something adults struggle to cope with, and he helped me. And I was... I hated it. I hated that loss as much as I hated being relieved by it, and in some ways I was. But it was always tangled up with the fact that he was the father of that baby. The father of that baby that was gone. A connection to something that I... That I still grieve, Colt. I really do. And it’s a terrible thing, because I can’t really miss her. Because she was never... She was never here. But I miss what might’ve been so much. I think about it. I think about it sometimes... How old she would be. To be fifteen. And I would be struggling to figure out my life and hers at the same time. Except... She isn’t. She isn’t here.”

“Mallory,” he said, his voice rough. He pulled her into his arms, putting his chin over her head and kissing her hair. “You are the bravest woman I’ve ever known.”

“How am I brave? I’ve kept that a secret, you know. I kept it a secret from everyone. How is that brave?”

“You’re carrying all that so that no one else has to. Is that the truth? I know all about that.” His eyes looked at her, intense and shining bright.

Electric blue that touched her in ways nothing else ever had. And had, from the moment she’d first seen him.

“Maybe,” she said, blinking hard. “When I told you I understand how thin the line is... I really do. Between here and gone. Because I was going to have a baby, and I hid it from everybody. And then she was gone. Then she was gone, and I never had the chance to tell the world. I regretted it. In the end I regretted it, but what can you do? Especially... I got to a place I thought I might be able to share with everybody and then...”

“Your brother.”

“Why would I ever heap that much pain onto my family? It just feels cruel at this point. Like such a hideous and terrible thing to do to them after everything they’ve already been through.”

“But it’s part of you,” he said.

She thought about that for a moment. About how angry it made her when Griffin underestimated her, not having any idea the kinds of things she had gone through. The kinds of burdens she carried. “Maybe,” she said, her voice muted. “Maybe that’s true.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry that you went through that alone.”

“You come out stronger...”

“And you chose to share that strength with other people. I’m not sure I ever managed that trick.”

She put her hand on his. “That’s not true. Whether you know it or not... You shared it with Lily’s dad. Trent got strength from you. He wanted to learn how to be a man like you. He wanted to be a father like he knew you could be. I think that you were like a father to him.”

The corner of his mouth turned up a little bit. “I hope so. All I can ever think of is... I think of the ways that I failed him. But then, I spend a lot of time thinking about the ways I felt like my own dad failed me. But after talking to you... I went to speak to my brother, Jake, about it. I don’t know what my dad was thinking. I don’t know if he was going to leave. I don’t know if he was going to stay. But I can’t know. I can only accept what is. I guess you know something about that too. You can’t help but wonder sometimes. Think about the way your life could have gone if you hadn’t... If you hadn’t lost...”

“Yes,” she said. “I know. I... I’m trying to accept it. In a way I don’t think I ever did before. That she isn’t here, so I don’t need to hold on to things that don’t fix anything. I think I held on to Jared for so long because it was like keeping her.” She blinked, her heart twisting. “It’s hard. To accept the bad that happens.”

“I think if you don’t, you don’t ever get around to accepting the good.”