Rally (Treasure State Wildcats Book 3)

“Just call her,” my sister snapped from across the table at the diner.

“Gloria.” I matched her tone. “Enough.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re being so dumb about this.”

“If Mom wanted to talk to me, she could call.”

“Maybe she doesn’t feel comfortable reaching out since you haven’t spoken to her for two years.”

I scoffed. “So I have to make it comfortable for her?”

“It’s a phone call.” She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted up her chin. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“And to reiterate my point, if it’s not that big of a deal, then why can’t Mom put forth the effort?”

“Fine.” Gloria threw up her hands. “Then don’t call her.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

Her expression was half pout, half scowl. It was the same look she’d given me all month whenever we had this same, tired argument. “You care more about this diner and Dusty than you do our family.”

I was beyond done with this topic. “You are my family. Dusty is my family. I love you both.”

“You don’t love Mom?”

“No.” It wasn’t something I’d ever admitted before. Not to Gloria. Not even myself.

“Faye.” Gloria’s expression was stricken as she gasped. “How can you say that? She’s our mom.”

Mom. That term felt a lot different now than it had months ago.

I was about to be a mom. And when my child came into this world and was placed in my arms, he or she would love me unconditionally.

I didn’t have to make that baby love me. My job was not to screw it up.

Mom had lost my love. She’d done nothing to earn it back.

We were supposed to love our parents. It felt wrong admitting the truth. But I wasn’t going to pretend, not where Mom was concerned. The sooner Gloria knew that bridge had been burned a long, long time ago, the better. Especially when I hadn’t been the person holding the match.

It was time, wasn’t it? Time to fess up?

Maybe if Gloria knew that my priorities had shifted, that I had a lot coming on the horizon, she’d realize why I wasn’t going to open communication with Mom. Not when I wasn’t just risking my own heart. I’d be risking my baby’s too.

Over my dead body would I ever let her hurt him the way she’d hurt me.

I stretched a hand across the table, covering hers with mine. She tensed, like she was going to yank it away, but I gave it a squeeze. “I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant. “I’m pregnant.”

Her jaw dropped.

“Rush and I are having a baby. In April.”

The table hid my belly, but Gloria’s gaze dropped, like she could see through the surface to my stomach. Her eyes lifted to mine, then dropped again. Up and down, up and down. She closed her mouth with a click, then ticked off fingers on her free hand.

“You’re four months pregnant. And I’m just finding out?”

The hurt on her face sliced deep. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“So does everyone else know? Am I like the last person to find out?”

“No. Not many people know.”

She tugged her other hand free from my grip. “Is this why you moved out of Justin’s place?”

“Yes.” When I’d told her I’d moved, she’d been so happy that I’d left Justin’s trailer for good she hadn’t asked why. And I hadn’t had the guts to tell her he’d evicted me.

“Are you and Rush together?”

“No.” Why was that the hardest part to admit? Maybe because deep down I didn’t like the answer.

We weren’t together. At all. One kiss weeks ago didn’t count as a relationship. But there was . . . something. We were something.

The arguments had stopped so abruptly, for the first couple of weeks after he’d come home from that away game, the night he’d brushed my hair, I’d been on edge, expecting them to start again. But we’d found this peace.

It was easy again.

His football schedule was more demanding than ever, but he’d started coming back to the diner on the evenings when he was free. He stopped by my room at night to see how I was feeling. Monday night, when I’d been reading in my room, he’d come in and sat on the floor.

We’d talked for two hours about nothing and everything. About his childhood on the ranch and mine in Mission.

Maverick was still an asshole who couldn’t seem to put knives in the dishwasher blade down or clean his crap off the laundry room floor, so it was easier to avoid him entirely. I still mostly hung out in my room.

Rush made it so I didn’t have to hang out alone.

“This is . . . I don’t even know what to say.” Gloria’s shoulders sagged. “You’re really pregnant?”

“I’m really pregnant.” I stood and lifted up my sweatshirt, turning sideways so she could see the slight swell of my belly. Squish.

“So that, like, makes me an aunt.” Her face didn’t change, but there was a spark in her eyes.

“You’re an aunt.”

She nodded as I righted my top. “Is it a boy or girl?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you going to find out?”

“Maybe?”

We’d had my ultrasound a couple of weeks ago. There was a grainy, black and white photo on the nightstand in my bedroom. Rush had his own to keep and a copy he’d sent to his parents.

When the technician had asked if we wanted to know the gender, I’d told him I wasn’t sure yet. Rush had shrugged, letting me make the decision, so the tech had sealed the results in an envelope for us to take home.

I hadn’t seen the envelope since that day, but I had a hunch that Rush was keeping it close for when I made up my mind.

“Are you going to tell Mom?” Gloria asked.

What was this fixation on our mother? “I don’t know. It’s not a secret. But if you’re asking if I was going to make an effort to share the news, then no.”

“Well, you should.” She scooted to the edge of the booth and stood too.

She hadn’t brought her backpack along today. There was no homework to be done. She’d gotten out of school after lunch for Thanksgiving break, then come here to pester me about calling Mom.

“You’re still coming over tomorrow, right?” she asked.

“Yeah. What time?”

“Six.”

“Can I bring anything?”

“No, we’ve got it covered.”

“Are you cooking?”

Chuck wasn’t much of a cook. I wasn’t sure Gloria knew how to make anything other than ramen and cold sandwiches. But she’d wanted to organize a Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. Maybe her grandmother would be making a turkey. Not that I liked turkey.

She laughed. “Definitely not.”

“Okay,” I drawled. Should I ask what we’d be eating? To be safe, I’d probably have my own dinner before the dinner.

Gloria leaned in for a hug that was over before it even started. Then she turned and rushed for the door, skipping every other step like she was about to break into a run.

“Wait.”

The last time she’d tried to make that fast of an exit was when she’d gotten her belly button pierced at some random guy’s house who did underage piercings. She’d been touching her navel all evening, and when I’d asked her what was going on, she’d tried to run away.

It hadn’t taken much to get a confession then. I doubted it would now.

She sighed, flailing her arms at her sides as she made a dramatic turn. “What?”

“You’re hiding something.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Nothing.”

“Gloria.”

She couldn’t meet my gaze, instead looking at the floor as she mumbled, “Momiscomingovertoo.”

I blinked. “Say that again?”

“Mom is coming over too.” She gave me an exaggerated frown. “She’s cooking.”

And my sister was trying to trick me into a family reunion. She would have let me walk through the door without any warning. She would have put me face-to-face with a person I had no desire to see. The woman who’d made my childhood hell.

The pain in my chest was excruciating. It hurt so much I closed my eyes, breathing through the pain.

What had I done to earn her betrayal? Had I not given her enough time? Enough money? Enough love? How could she do this to me?

“I’m sorry, Faye. I just thought⁠—”

“Goodbye, Gloria.”

She stared at me for a long moment, her eyes watering as her chin quivered.

It was the harshest I’d ever spoken to my sister. I’d never once dismissed her from this diner.

“Are you still coming tomorrow?”

Wow. “What do you think?”

The corners of her mouth turned down. She waited, like if she stood there long enough I’d cave, but I stayed frozen until finally she realized it was useless.

“I’m really sorry.” Her voice shook as she started to cry. Then she walked out the door.

It took everything I had not to follow and call her back.

But she’d gone too far. This was a lesson she had to learn. Even if it broke me into pieces to teach it.

So much for Thanksgiving.

“Well, Squish.” I walked through the dining room, hand splayed across my bump. “I guess we’ll stay home and eat our own food.”

At least the house would be quiet. Maverick had left yesterday to crash at his parents’ house in town for the long weekend. Erik, who I’d only seen twice in all the time I’d been living at Rush’s place, was with his girlfriend, Kalindi. And Rush had left this morning for the ranch.

When I walked through the swinging door, I figured I’d find Dusty at the prep table and Mike at the flattop, except the kitchen was empty.

Mike had been helping out a lot lately. He came with her to the diner most days. I wasn’t sure what was going on with them, but I hoped this “on” period didn’t eventually become another “off.”

Dusty was happier when Mike was in her life. He was the only person who seemed to like her snakes too.

Eww.

They must have gone out back for a smoke, so I headed for the bathroom, wanting a minute to breathe and let the sting of Gloria’s plan fade.

I turned the knob, swinging open the door, and shrieked, “Oh my God.”

Dusty’s chest was pressed up against the wall, her jeans pooled at her ankles. So were Mike’s.

I let go of the door and slapped a hand over my eyes as it swung closed.

“Hell,” Mike hissed.

“She’s pregnant,” Dusty said. “She knows about sex.”

I spun away from the door and ran, not looking back as I passed the fridge with my fuzzy ultrasound photo taped to its silver face.

My entire body shivered as I pushed open the swinging door. No matter how hard I closed my eyes, I couldn’t unsee Dusty and Mike going at it in the bathroom.

The door chimed and I jumped, smacking a hand over my heart as my eyes popped open.

Rush came inside with a blast of cold, November air. “Hey.”

Now my heart was racing for an entirely different reason.

He looked perfect in a pair of faded jeans that molded around his thick thighs. His white, long-sleeved thermal was covered by a tan Carhartt coat that rested on broad shoulders. His hair was trapped beneath a faded navy Wildcats hat that seemed to accentuate that chiseled jaw.

He’d been gone for hours, and I’d missed him.

“What are you doing here?” In Mission. Here, at Dolly’s. Why was he with me?

He stomped the snow off his boots and shrugged. “Drove to the ranch. Hugged Mom. Spent an hour helping Dad. Realized I’d forgotten something at home.”

“What?”

“You.”

My heart. It was going to explode. I was going to die right here, in Dolly’s Diner, because I didn’t know what to do with all these . . . feelings.

Cry, apparently. That checked. Rush became a watery, blurry mess as I burst into tears.

“Sweets.” His arms were around me in an instant, hauling me into the warmth of his chest and coat. It smelled like his cologne and laundry detergent and snow.

“Sorry.” I sniffled, trying to suck it up. “Weird day.”

“Want to make it weirder?”

“I don’t think I can handle weirder.”

He laughed and let me go.

It was after I wiped my eyes dry that I realized through the glass I couldn’t see the street. Because parked alongside Dolly’s was a massive RV. The same camper I’d seen this summer. “There’s a camper attached to your truck.”

“You’re very observant.” Rush slid an arm around my shoulders and walked me toward the nearest window. “Had an idea. Want to go camping?”

“It’s winter.”

“So? We’ll stay inside.”

Trapped in a camper with Rush. It was equally terrifying and enticing. “What about Thanksgiving?”

“You don’t even like turkey.”

No. No, I didn’t. How did he know that? Probably because he’d been paying attention. “Camping. I’ve only ever been camping once.”

“Yeah? How was it?”

“I got a flat tire and met this guy who changed it for me.”

“Sounds like a decent guy.”

I looked up at him, beautiful brown eyes waiting. “More than decent.”

“So does that mean I can take you camping?”

I smiled. “If you must.”