Red Dirt Heart 3 (16 page)

Now truthfully, I didn’t have experience in the female mind. If movies and television shows were any kind of guide, I figured the emotions of hormonal women was like a cross between a kitten and a grizzly bear.

But this was Trudy, and havin’ her standin’ in my hallway clearly upset was different. And Bacon was just standing there looking more sad than helpful, giving me no clue as to what the problem was. So I stuffed the stupid teddy bear I was still holding in the same arm with Nugget, took Trudy’s hand and led her into the kitchen.

She sat down, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, and shook her head. I sat down too, and with an almighty sigh, Bacon sat down as well. “You know the rules of the kitchen. Anyone is free to speak their mind,” I said softly, looking between both of them. “Something’s obviously wrong…” They wouldn’t be here talkin’ to me if it weren’t.

I looked at Trudy, waiting for her to speak. But she didn’t.

“Look, if you two need some time off, together or alone,” I started. “You just have to say.”

“Trudy’s pregnant,” Bacon said quietly.

Oh.
Oh.

She glared at him and more tears started to fall. “I told you not to say anything,” she snapped at him.

He shook his head and smiled sadly. “Trude, if you weren’t gonna tell him, then what did you come here for?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

I was still just sitting there blinking, like a rabbit in a spotlight.

And then the pieces all fit together. Bacon didn’t want her climbing on the roof, she hadn’t been eating much, she said she wasn’t feeling well, the tears, the hormones.

I was such an idiot.

I should have seen it before now.

“I don’t know,” she said again, shaking her head. “I don’t know what I’m doing. My head’s all over the place, I can’t think straight.” She scrubbed at her face. “I guess I had to tell you. You’re my boss, and you should know for medical reasons and all that.”

I nodded, and I needed to think of something to say. I assumed because of the tears and tension between them that this news, this unexpected news, was not welcome. I had to tread carefully. “Um, I appreciate you telling me,” I said. Then, because I’m a simpleton, I kept talking. “I have no idea about these things. I mean, I know how it all works—I’m not stupid, I’m just gay. And me and Trav don’t have this problem, with the whole hormones and pregnancy thing. I mean, pregnant cows yes, but…”

Trudy’s mouth fell open and Bacon looked at me like I was the village idiot. Which I was, apparently. “And I have this problem where, when I don’t know what else to say, I say really stupid things and can’t shut up. Like now.” I swallowed hard. “Sorry.”

Like I hadn’t just spieled a torrent of nonsense, Trudy sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She looked at me with such sad, sad eyes. “I don’t know if I’m gonna keep it.”

Bacon groaned and ran his hands through his hair, but he looked at me. “She doesn’t want to get rid of it,” he said, leaning forward and waving his hand toward Trudy. “She just thinks she doesn’t have a choice.”

Just then, Travis walked into the kitchen and stopped. “Oh. Sorry,” he said, clearly surprised to find us in there. He started to back out. “I was just…”

I stood up. “Trav, can you take him?” I asked, handing over Nugget and his teddy.

Travis nodded quickly and took the little wombat without another word. When he’d gone, I looked over to Bacon. “Can you give me a minute with Trudy, please?”

He stood up, the chair scraping against the kitchen floor as he did, and walked out. If I had to pick one word to describe Bacon right now, it would be ‘desperate’.

When it was just me and Trudy, I pulled my chair over to hers and took her hand. I had probably crossed a dozen employer/employee boundaries, but I didn’t care.

“You’re allowed to be scared,” I whispered.

She nodded.

Then something occurred to me. “Are you worried about your job?” I asked.

Her eyes flashed to mine, and after a long second, she nodded again. “You can’t afford to be payin’ staff you don’t have.”

The fact that she was worried about that was ridiculous. And heartbreaking. “Trudy, listen to me. You have the right to paid leave and for your job to be held for you. That’s the law,” I told her. “But besides that, Trudy, you’re a part of this Station. It’s not just your job, it’s your home.”

I don’t know if that was the right or wrong thing to say, because she started to cry again.

I squeezed her hand. “Now, if you don’t want to keep this baby, then that’s between you and Bacon. But remember, in the end, it’s your choice. No one will hold it against you. Hell, no one else even has to know.”

And there were more tears.

“You just need to know,” I told her, “that whatever decision you make, you will have a job.”

“Craig wants to keep it,” she croaked out, wiping her nose on her shirtsleeve.

I kept forgetting Bacon’s real name was Craig. It took me a second to catch on. “What do you want?”

She started to cry again, instant tears. “How can I be a mother?” she asked.

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Me?” she asked. “I’m not maternal. At all. The poor kid wouldn’t stand a chance with me as a mother. I work cattle and horses. I can’t cook. But I watch you feeding your baby wombat and it fucking kills me.”

Oh.

“He’s so little and he depends on you, and you just take it in stride,” she said, wiping snot on her sleeve again. “I mean, you bitch and whinge about it, but you do it, and I don’t think I could.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. “For what it’s worth, Trudy, I think you’d make a great mum.”

Well, that was the wrong thing to say apparently, because she stood up and walked to the sink. She was taking deep breaths, and just when I was about to apologise, she turned to face me. She held out her hands and started to cry again. “How can I be a mum? Look at my hands. Mothers don’t have hands like this.”

I stood up quickly and took both her hands in mine. Her hands were hard-working and callused, the knuckles on two fingers were flat and gnarled, her nails were cut short and dirty. But this wasn’t about her hands. Not at all.

My voice was just a whisper. “A mother doesn’t love with her hands, Trudy. She loves with her heart.”

Trudy sobbed, and I did what felt right. I put my arms around her and hugged her as she cried. Whether Bacon heard my telepathic cries of what-the-hell-do-I-do-now, or he just heard her crying, I don’t know. But he appeared in the doorway. I waved him over and he quickly took my place.

He wrapped his arms around his girl, and she held on to him and cried even harder. “I’m scared,” she told him.

He kissed the top of her head. “I know.”

I clapped my hand on his shoulder and mouthed, “You okay?” He nodded, so I mouthed, “Goodnight,” and left them there, finding Travis in the bathroom. He leaned against the vanity and smiled at me, and he held his arms out. God, I almost fell into him with a sigh, leaning right into him. He put his arm around me and kissed the side of my head. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

I closed my eyes. “Did you hear all that?”

“Most of it.” He rubbed my arm. “Bacon told me, just now, about the baby.”

I sighed again, and pulling back a bit, I rubbed my forehead. “Fucking hell. My head feels like it’s going to explode. Or cave in. One or the other.”

Travis pulled me against him again and chuckled, the sound rumbling in my ear pressed against his chest. “You need a hot shower,” he said. “It will help you unwind.”

“What about them?” I whispered. I didn’t have to tell him I was talking about Bacon and Trudy. “Maybe I should go check on them.”

“They need some time to figure things out,” he said. “And so do you.” He let go of me, only to pull my shirt over my head and undo my jeans. Then he turned the water on in the shower. “You get in.”

He was right. The hot water was heavenly on my shoulders and the muscles in my back. I didn’t realise how tense I was. I quickly washed myself and was shutting the water off as Trav came back in.

“They’re gone. Kitchen’s empty,” he said, pulling his shirt off. I tied the towel around my waist, and when I glanced up, he was about to start the shower again, completely naked.

Normally I’d take my time looking over his body—the way his back moved, how the muscles in his forearms flexed and bulged, the broad lines of his shoulders—but my eyes drew straight to his hips.

Travis had bruises.

Purple lines marred the pale flesh across his hip bones: deep, blotchy, painful.

“Jesus, what’s that from?” I asked, instinctively reaching out to touch them.

Travis snorted. “Like you can’t guess.”

I stared at him, not understanding. “What?”

“Your office,” he said with a smile. “More specifically, your desk.”

Oh sweet mother of God. When we’d had sex on my desk… He was bruised from where I’d slammed him into the edge of the desk. “I did that to you?” My voice squeaked.

“Well, rest assured I wouldn’t be letting anyone else,” he said with a laugh, turning to start the shower.

He thought they were funny.

I, on the other hand, did not.

I wasn’t amused at all. I was fucking horrified.

“I am
so
sorry.”

Travis rolled his eyes. “They’re just bruises, Charlie. It’s not like I have internal bleeding or anything.”

“That’s not funny.”

He sighed his oh-for-fucks-sake sigh and, abandoning his attempts to start the shower, turned around to face me. I imagined he was counting to ten in his head before he spoke. “I’m fine, Charlie.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” The fact that I had done exactly that made me feel sick. Maybe he was gonna argue the point with me, until he saw I was looking a little ill. I exhaled sharply and breathed out slow, trying to quell the nausea.

“Oh, Charlie.” He put his hand to my face, then wrapped his long fingers around the back of my neck and pulled me against him. He kissed the side of my head. “You didn’t hurt me.”

I pulled back to look in his eyes, hopin’ he’d see the sincerity in mine. “I am really sorry.”

He smiled sadly at me. “I know you are. I know you didn’t mean to, it was the desk, Charlie. Not you. You didn’t do this deliberately. It was just the wrong angle or something. I certainly didn’t feel it last night.”

“I should have thought of that. I should have known it would cut into you.”

He lifted my chin. “So next time we put a folded-up towel across it or something.”

“Next time?” I shook my head.

He smiled and kissed me. “Hell yes, next time.”

“Travis,” I started. “There’s no way—”

“It was the hottest thing we’ve ever done,” he said with a smile. “Seriously, Charlie, they’re just bruises. They don’t hurt.” Before I could argue further, he turned me around so I faced the mirror. He wiped the steam away, and standing behind me, he lifted my arm. “Look at those,” he said.

He was looking at my side in the reflection, and when I followed his gaze, I saw what he saw: long red lines, scratches really, crisscrossed the skin under my arm and down my side and even across my stomach.

Oh.

I looked at where Nugget had scraped his way across my skin. I’d known I had scratches, but I hadn’t really taken much notice. After a while, I didn’t notice them at all. “He doesn’t mean to scratch me.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Travis said. “It’s just what happens, right?”

I could see the point he was trying to make. “It’s not the same,” I said.

“Well, not really, but it kind of is,” he said. Then he kissed my shoulder. “What about all the times I’ve given you hickeys?” he asked. “I’ve put love bites on just about every inch of your skin.”

“That’s not the same,” I said.

“It’s exactly the same,” he countered softly, kissing my shoulder again. “Love bites are bruises, and in the course of lovemaking, sometimes we get marked.”

Resigned, I sighed. He turned me around, and with the gentlest of touches, he kissed my lips, my nose and my closed eyelids. I was too tired to argue. My head was spinning.

“Oh, Charlie,” he whispered, kissing my cheek. “Go to bed. I’ll be right in. I’ll just take a real quick shower.” He stepped back and gave his dick a squeeze. “A cold shower.”

I snorted, too tired to even laugh. But I left him to shower alone. I put some boxers on, got into bed and closed my eyes, though my mind was racing. My mental list of shit to worry about was getting longer and longer. And now I worried for Trudy and Bacon.

It was their choice to make, it was their lives. Trudy was scared, and I didn’t blame her one bit. It was a life-changing decision, whichever path Trudy decided to follow, and it certainly wasn’t my place to say anything.

Travis slid into bed, all shower-warm and clean-smelling, and firmly pulled me against his chest. “You okay?” he asked in the darkened room. “I can feel it in your body how stressed you are.”

“I hope they make the right decision,” I said.

Travis was quiet for a long second. He knew who I was talking about. “I’m sure they will. Bacon wants her to have the baby, Charlie. He’s worried he’ll lose both of them. That’s what he told me tonight.”

All I could do was sigh. “I think Trudy does too. She’s just scared.”

“What do you want them to do?” he asked.

“I want them to be happy.”

He tightened his hold on me. “What do you really want them to do?”

“I want them to have it. I want them to have the baby,” I blurted out. Then, because we had a tellin’-the-truth-policy, I said, “But only if they want it one hundred percent without any doubt. Because if they don’t, I don’t want them to have it at all.”

Travis was quiet, his body still. “What?”

“I know that sounds horrible. But I also know what it’s like to not be wanted,” I said quietly. “I know what it’s like to have parents who walk away or who sent me away. I know what that’s like, and no kid, whether they’re four or even when they’re eighteen, should know what
that
feels like.”

Trav tightened his hold on me, his arms wrapped around me so completely. “Oh, Charlie.”

I didn’t say anything after that. Trav just pulled the blankets up around me and went right back to tight-holdin’ me. I couldn’t remember a time when he’d held me that close.