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She shakes her head, sucking her lips in as her eyes drift to the sky as though she might find some divine answer pieced in the puzzle of the clouds. “I don’t know how this happened.”

I’m pretty sure I’ve got a good clue how it happened. Not that I want to think about her with my brother like that.

I push off the edge of the truck, my hand sliding to the small of her back to gently guide her in. I tap the seat, “Climb up, sweetheart.”

Her face is blotchy with spilled emotion, but she does as I say and climbs into the truck. I close the door and round the cab to the driver’s side. I pull the pamphlets I’d tucked into my back pocket and toss them into the center console.

A small whimper has my eyes snapping to Faye again. Her eyes are fixed on the pamphlet offering information regarding the termination of a pregnancy. Her nose is bright red.

I curse, lift the pamphlets, and toss them onto the floor behind her seat where she won’t see them. Then I shove the key into the ignition and start to drive.

She doesn’t speak and neither do I. We’ve both got processing to do.

I admit, I don’t get any processing done before I swing us into the pharmacy parking lot.

Faye stares in horror through the windshield. “What are we doing here?”

“You’ve got a prescription to fill. And the doc said you need to start taking a prenatal.”

She sinks down in her seat. “No.”

“What do you mean, no? Faye, you need this filled.” I pluck the prescription from where I tossed it with the pamphlets in the console before I threw the offending pamphlets into the back seat. “You look like⁠—”

Her eyes whip to mine when I don’t continue. “I look like what, Tate?”

I swallow the truth, because I’m not sure she’s got it in her for the truth right now. Even as she looks like crap, she’s still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

I say carefully, “You look sick, Faye.”

“I’m not sick. I’m pregnant.” There’s no missing the anger in her voice, though I’m sure she’s not angry with me. I think she’s just angry with the world. With the wrench fate has tossed into the plans of her life.

“I know.”

“I can’t go in there,” she says softly, pleadingly. “What if someone sees me?”

“You don’t have to go in. I’ll go in for you.”

“Tate—” She shakes her head. “No.”

I look to my lap as my phone buzzes in my pocket again. Again, I ignore it, but I don’t ignore it without feeling a heavy dump of stones knocking around in my gut.

I start backing out of the parking lot, saying nothing as I head for the road out of Rubble Ridge toward Creekwood Valley. It’s closer than Calgary, not that I’d mind a trip into the city with Faye—or really any time spent alone with her.

Fuck, she’s pregnant with your brother’s kid. Get a handle, man.

“Where are we going?” Faye asks as we pass the town exit.

“Creekwood Valley.”

“Why?”

“Because you need a pharmacy. If you’re not willing to go to one in Rubble Ridge, we’ll find one you’re comfortable going to.”

Silence meets me for a long moment before Faye says a small, “Thank you, Tate.”

I don’t tell her I’d do anything for her. I just nod.

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