Henry felt his eyebrow rise. He turned to Cassie. “I thought you said you were okay.”
He wouldn’t have left her alone otherwise.
She gave him a polite smile, one he’d seen when he first met her at the Eagle, and stood from her seat.
Henry’s eyes zipped downward.
Right to Cassie’s stomach.
She placed a hand over it, protectively.
“I was,” she said. “But I wanted to make sure he was, too.”
“You’re pregnant.”
It wasn’t a question but it wasn’t a statement, either. It felt like a confused in-between. Henry Ward had been thrown for a loop and was still trying to find his way back to solid ground. Cassie tried to help, even if she was also looking for some better footing herself.
It wasn’t every day that the father of your child appeared out of thin air for the first time since the night he’d spent with you months before, then potentially saved your life and pretended he’d never met you before.
It was all confusing.
“I am,” she confirmed, though it wasn’t needed. “Seven months, give or take.”
Cassie would bet Henry was doing some of the fastest math he’d ever done in his life. All while staring at her pregnant belly. Since she’d never had kids before, she wasn’t showing as much, but there was no denying the bump once she brought attention to it.
The man wasn’t stupid. If his math was even in the ballpark, he’d guess that he was the father. However, he didn’t ask the question. Then again, she didn’t think he would. Not after he’d made it clear they didn’t know each other.
You didn’t speak up, either, Cassie pointed out to herself.
The weight of the day erased thoughts of Cassie’s personal life for the moment. She moved her hand across her stomach.
“The doc gave the okay, though,” she said. If Maggie, the ex-reporter, or Matt noticed anything off about the two of them, they didn’t say a word. “But you can never be too careful. Plus, I wanted to be there for Mara.”
Henry tore his eyes off her stomach.
“That’s good,” was all he said.
Matt put a hand on his shoulder and steered the deputy into the kitchen. Cassie settled back into her chair while Maggie followed the men. She was soon back with the dinner they’d just finished making. Nothing too fancy, just something to kill their hunger. Cassie doubted any of them could take any real pleasure from a meal until Billy could, too.
Like her hand had a mind of its own again, it moved up and touched the scar at her neck. Maggie didn’t miss it. She took the seat next to Cassie and patted her back.
“You’re okay,” Maggie whispered. “You both are okay. This will all get sorted out. Have faith.”
Cassie felt herself nod.
Maggie started a volley of questions as soon as the men were back and seated. More than anything Cassie wanted to pay attention, to learn more about Henry, a man at times she’d wondered if he was even real. Yet there was a rising feeling of overwhelming vulnerability in her chest. It tightened her stomach and pulled out some of the fear and anger she’d felt at the diner.
She didn’t know if it was because she was pregnant, because the man she’d spent the last several months hoping would call had showed up, or because she just hadn’t had the time to process everything, but suddenly she couldn’t just sit there anymore.
“If y’all hadn’t have been at my party, this wouldn’t have happened,” she said, cutting Matt off midsentence.
He was quick to shake his head.
“Cassie, you know as well as I do that you and your party had nothing to do with this,” Matt said in defense. “That man was angry, probably out for revenge. Location doesn’t deter someone stuck in the mind-set that they’re going to try to take on the law.”
“But it did give the bastard the opportunity, didn’t it?”
She felt the heat that surged through her words seconds before Matt’s eyes widened a fraction. She’d bet Maggie’s were probably wider, too. It wasn’t every day that Cassie Gates had an outburst. She was the sweet one. The Southern girl who always smiled and was agreeable. The one who stayed optimistic when things went badly.
Her cheeks stung now that she’d broken out of her normal character. It didn’t help that Henry was there, staring at her with those eyes of steel. The same eyes that had traced her lips seconds before he’d kissed her for the first time. The same eyes that had traveled across her bare skin sometime later in the night.
Cool, hard steel she hadn’t seen since.
And she hated that she was thinking about that night right now. After the day they’d been through, it didn’t seem so important.
Yet she could feel the tears of being rejected starting to push themselves forward.
“Cassie...” Maggie began, but her tone was what finally broke the dam that Cassie had put up to keep herself sane after the diner.
The chair scraped against the floor as she pushed herself back and stood. With one hand on her stomach, Cassie met no one’s gaze. “Sorry, I’m just tired and hormonal,” she declared. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I think I’d like to go home now.”
Maggie, bless her, must have caught on that Cassie meant what she said.
“Okay,” she said, a reassuring smile lifting her expression. “That’s fine. Let me at least make you a plate before we go, though, all right? Tired or not, you two still need to eat something.”
There was force behind her words. A mother mothering a soon-to-be mother. Practically the lifeblood of the South. But she was right.
Cassie nodded and collected her plate. “I’ll help.”
Without looking at the men, or the one in particular, Cassie fled to the kitchen, a storm of emotions battling it out in her chest.
* * *
THE WOMEN WERE out and gone before Henry could think of a reason to pull Cassie aside, alone. Not that it would have changed anything. Cassie could have medaled at the Olympic sport of avoidance with how she’d skirted him on the way out.
Instead of asking her the million-dollar question, he’d been left watching through the dining room window as she slid into Maggie’s car.
Not that he blamed her.
He’d just burned any normal bridge they could have had, announcing that he’d never met the woman before in front of her coworkers. Her friends.
Henry resisted the urge to slam his fist down on the tabletop.
Seven months give or take.
That give or take could make the difference.
Had she met someone after him?
Or was he the father?
How had he missed that detail at the diner?
Why had he lied?
And why hadn’t Cassie corrected him?
Too many questions and no one to ask them of. At least, not right now.
“I’m sure Billy already told you, but we’ve been through a lot as a department the last few years,” Matt said, breaking the silence they’d fallen into. He moved his food around on his plate before dropping his fork and taking up his beer. “Stuff that