Page 2 of April is for Asher

“How bad is it?” Jensen asks.

“I need an x-ray to check for internal injuries, but the external ones look worse than they are. It’s a lot of blood, but so long as we stop any infection, they aren’t an issue. Just a few stitches,” I tell him.

The guys stick around to help because moving a knocked-out horse around isn’t easy. But we get all the tests done we need to. Thankfully, there is nothing going on inside other than some bruising, which is to be expected.

“She was extremely lucky. I bet she ran into the street and the car tried to stop. It couldn’t have been going too fast, or have a lot more injuries,” I tell them. After we get her settled in her recovery stall, we wait for one of the volunteers to get here to watch over her.

When she wakes up, she might hurt herself because she won’t know where she is and could go into defense mode. We want to make sure that doesn’t happen. Also, we also want to make sure she doesn’t have an adverse reaction to any of the medications we give her.

Watching her while she is out, she seems so peaceful, and it reminds me why I do what I do. I love helping these horses, and I never regret the day that I made Mustang Mountain my home.

Once the volunteer comes to relieve me, I finally go back to my office to drink my now very cold cup of coffee and get the paperwork on this animal done. But I get stopped on the way as I always seem to do.

“Asher, there’s a woman here asking to speak to you,” Donna, my receptionist, says.

We get people in all the time wanting to talk to the owner about this event or media coverage. Charles is my PR guy and has taken over a lot of the event planning and social media, too.

“Have her talk to Charles. I need to get the report going on that horse we just brought in,” I tell her.

“No, thank you. That won’t do because Charles isn’t the father of my baby,” a woman says with a voice I could never forget.

That voice haunts me in my sleep, taunting me that I’d never see her again.

“Jenna?” I ask in shock as I turned to face her.

She looks a bit paler, and a lot more tired than the last time I saw her, but it is Jenna, the face I see every night when I go to sleep.

“Glad you remember me,” she says, softer this time.

Then what she said hits me.

“Did you just say father of your baby?” I ask in shock.

“Yes,” she says, raising her chin and suddenly it’s like someone punched me in the gut.

“Let’s go into my office,” I say, looking over at Donna, who rivals Ruby as the town gossip.

Thankfully, Jenna follows me into my office and takes a seat. After closing the door, I collapse into my chair as I process what she has told me.

“Pregnant” is the only word I could get out.

“Yes, I’m about four months along. But I didn’t know how to contact you or where to find you until I saw the ‘Mustang Mountain Man of the Month’ post this morning. Since I believe you have the right to know, I took the day off work and came down to see you. I want nothing from you…”

“Whoa, stop. Information overload,” I say and rest my head in my hands and rub my temples.

Jenna and I had one amazing and perfect night together at the bar in Whitefish for a Bachelorette party. A few of the guys and I were there for a charity MC ride. We spent the night drinking, dancing, and talking.

Then we ended up back at my hotel room and had the best night of sex mixed with more talking, and a late night food run. Just before dawn, we passed out. When I woke up, she was gone. Even though I tried to track her down, I found nothing.

Now I find out that our perfect night together has produced a child and has tied me to this woman forever. The universe sure has a sense of humor.

“First, do you need something to eat or drink?” I offer her.

“I’m good. I have some water with me, but I could use a restroom if you have one,” she says.

“Yes, out the door to the left, then first door on your left.” I tell her and thankfully she leaves her bag, so I know she is coming back.

I don’t plan to let her slip away again without a way to contact her and not just because she is carrying my child.

---