Page 79 of No Place for Single Cowboys

But theyaremine.The thought jabbed into Chance’s brain.

He told himself it wasn’t true. He didn’t own Cordy and the baby—she was free to do whatever she wanted. He was only giving her a place to stay for a bit. Knowing how she’d grown up and lived until now, Cordy would move when the itch took her. She didn’t set down roots.

He told himself he understood even as his gut cramped. Imagining her and the baby out there, God knew where, all alone?—

Not my problem. Not once she leaves.

Chance shuffled in his chair, his heart going too fast. It wasn’t so strange, him stepping up. He’d done it before when Holden had disappeared into the bottle. Things needed doing, Lane and Rye needed taking care of, so Chance and Quint had stepped in to do it.

What would his father do if Chance pointed that out?

Probably blink and look blank, like he had no idea what Chance was talking about.

“I’m helping because she needs it,” Chance said.

Holden only grunted.

“Look, if the kid were mine, I’d admit it. I clean up my messes.”

Actually, he tried never to make them in the first place.

Quint shook his head. “It’s enough, both of you. Sure, take some time off. Does it have to be six weeks, though? I don’t know if we can manage without you that long.”

“We could hire on Ben for a few weeks. I know he’s looking to make some money.” Ben was a 4-H kid in his senior year who was always looking for odd jobs. He liked to buy his girlfriend expensive presents.

“Royal and Stirling will help too,” Rye said. “If we ask.”

Those two were a couple of their Younger cousins from the Hard Fork Ranch in the valley a few hills over. In fact, any of their Younger cousins would help for at least a few weeks.

“Good idea.” Chance pointed with his mug at Quint. “Would that be enough? I’ll pay Ben myself.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Quint took a long sip of his coffee. “Those guys should be enough to pick up the slack. But if you could come back earlier…”

“It depends on what Cordy wants. But I think these people exaggerate when they say babies take so much work. All they do is sleep and eat. It’s not like they can move around and get into things.”

“Yeah, but they don’t sleep more than two hours or so. Which meansyouwon’t sleep more than two hours or so.”

Chance shrugged. “We’ll take shifts. I’m used to getting no sleep during calving season. It can’t be that bad.”

“I’ve heard it’s real bad.” Rye’s tone was serious. “Chels Tyler said it was like being tortured.”

Tortured? Chance jiggled his leg. “The labor teacher said it might not be that bad. She told us not to be scared.”

“Why would you be scared?” Quint asked baldly. “It’s not you having the baby.”

Chance wasn’t frightened for himself; he was afraid for Cordy. If anything happened to her… Ms. Reston might talk about how ninety-nine point nine percent of labors went just fine, but Chance had done some of his own research on the internet and what he’d seen… Well, sometimes things went wrong. And they could goreallywrong.

The baby could die. Cordy could die.

Whenever Chance’s mind brought those possibilities up, he felt like he was staring into a pit, searching for the bottom andnever finding it, the edge crumbling under his feet. He had to mentally scramble back because if he kept staring into it…

“Things will be fine,” he said firmly. “Cordy is more than ready for this baby, and she’ll do great. But she’s going to need help. And I’ve got to be there for her.”

“Are you in love with her?” Rye asked quietly.

What the hell?

Chance’s instinct was to say no. He wasn’t losing his mind over her. He woke up every day and did his work, came home and took care of her—normal things. A Kessal in love was a madman. He wouldn’t be sitting here calmly discussing paternity leave while privately trying not to think about his woman dying in childbirth.

---