“It’s not.”
He was right. And during her next appointment with the obstetrician in mid-December, the doctor had promised they would do an ultrasound to check the baby’s progress—and reveal the gender if she wanted to know.
What would her life be like by then? Even though she’d called Cutter to start their future together, Brea still couldn’t picture it.
Or maybe she was afraid to.
“Eventually your father is going to realize what’s going on. He’s going to see that your body is changing.”
Cutter was right. Her bras were getting uncomfortably tight. So were her pants. Layers of billowy winter clothes would help disguise her pregnancy for the next couple of months, but come spring? Nothing would hide the fact she was carrying a child.
“I know. No matter what I do, I’m going to hurt someone. I’ve worried that I either have to risk my father with a heart condition or make a choice that goes against my moral code. And then there’s you… I can’t bear the thought of ruining your life.”
“You have enough to worry about right now without worrying about me.”
“But—”
“Brea, you’re not going to have an abortion.”
“No.” Even if her religious upbringing didn’t forbid it, her heart did. She wanted this baby.
“You’re not going to tell your father that you hooked up with a guy you have no intention of marrying and got pregnant.”
It was the truth, and that’s what she should tell him, except… “What if the news kills Daddy?”
Maybe if she sat him down, braced him before she explained, made sure she had a phone and his medication nearby… Wasn’t it worth a try? She loved him so much and hated being dishonest.
“Are you going to tell him you’re planning to raise your baby on your own?” Cutter added.
And that was where she stumbled. Even if her father accepted the truth—that she’d bear the fruit of her love for Pierce come May—the town wouldn’t.
To outsiders and city folk, Sunset probably seemed backward and small-minded. But Daddy loved it here. They both had deep roots. This was the only home she’d ever known. She’d already accepted that she’d lost Pierce. But she didn’t know how she’d cope with losing everyone else she’d known all her life, too.
Brea hated adding more lies, but this plan would only work if she got ahead of the narrative, announced her engagement to Cutter, and convinced the townsfolk they were just another happy couple pledging their lives to each other. Of course, once she started showing and the baby came, everyone would deduce that she’d been expecting when they’d married. But they would assume Cutter had fathered the baby, and he’d never say otherwise. It would be a minor scandal, but they would weather it. Daddy could keep the town’s respect, and she could keep her clients. Gossip would die as soon as the next drama hit town.
“And what if he disowns you?” Cutter went on.
Daddy wouldn’t. She might have worried, but he wasn’t a cruel man. Yes, he would be shocked and disappointed she’d gotten pregnant by a man he’d never met…but now that she thought about it, maybe he’d already guessed. And he still seemed to love her. God willing, he would love her child, too. They would get through this as a family.
“You know if he does, the folks in Sunset will do the same,” Cutter went on. “We’ve covered all this. You either have to leave Sunset alone to raise the baby in secret or—”
“I’ll marry you. I-if you’ll still have me.”
It was time to stop hiding her head in the sand and face the inevitable.
Brea had expected Cutter to be relieved that she’d finally seen reason. Or impatient that it had taken her so long to reach the logical conclusion. Instead, he paused.
His silence was rife with resignation.
“Of course, Bre-Bee. I’d be honored.”
But he wouldn’t, not at all. Clearly, he wished she’d made any other choice. But she didn’t have a better one. If Daddy had noticed her off moods and behavior, there was a chance some of the ladies at the salon had as well. She had to act now for this plan to have any chance of working.
“Thank you. A-and like I said, I’ll never infringe on your personal life. I want you to be as happy as you can in the midst of this mess. If you want children of your own, we’ll figure something out. Artificial insemination or—”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. That’s years away, and we’ll address that if I get the urge. You just worry about you and the baby right now. Unless plans change, I’ll be back early next week, and we’ll go to the Justice of the Peace.”
“We can’t do that. Daddy will want to marry us.”
He would insist, just like he would want the ceremony in his church—a big shindig the whole town would attend.