The Bachelor's Baby. Mia Ross

was thinking it might go better if we’re straight with each other.”

      Relief washed over her, and she forced a shaky smile. “Oh. Okay.”

      Spinning a rickety-looking folding chair around, he crossed his arms on the back and sat facing her. “So, whatta you really think?”

      “It will be tight, but I’ll get it done.” Bravado aside, she got the feeling that it was time to finally put their difficult history in the rearview. For both of them. “I know I haven’t always been trustworthy in the past, Brian, but I’m working really hard to change that.”

      “Because of the baby?”

      “Mostly.”

      “What about for yourself?” She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, and after a few moments, he continued, “You deserve better than you’ve gotten, Lindsay. You’re smart and funny, and you’ve got a good heart. Have you ever thought about what you wanted, just for you?”

      “College would’ve been nice,” she admitted shyly, hesitant to voice a wish that had proven to be too far out of reach for her. “I always wanted to— Never mind. It’s too crazy.”

      That made him laugh, and she saw the humor lighting his eyes in the way she remembered so fondly.

      “Look around,” he said, holding his arms out in emphasis. “I’m restoring a business to run the way it did in the 1800s. Anything you come up with won’t be half as crazy as what I’m doing here.”

      His confidence and reassuring words eased her hesitance, and she decided to go for it. At the worst, he’d laugh. At the best, he’d understand how it felt to have a dream that everyone else thought was unattainable. “I’ve always wanted to be a family therapist. You know, counsel kids and their families who are having a tough time, help them learn a better way to handle things.”

      “You’ve got some experience with that,” he said gently, sympathy warming the blue in his eyes to something she could almost feel from across the desk.

      “Yeah, and I’ve often wondered if Mom and I would’ve done better if someone had taught us a better way of dealing with each other.”

      “Life gets harder all the time, it seems,” he commented in a pensive tone. “My childhood here was awesome, but the older I get, the faster the world seems to spin. I can’t imagine how tough it is for kids these days.”

      “It’s hard for grown-ups, too,” Lindsay added, hearing enthusiasm in her voice for the first time in what felt like forever. “Struggling families aren’t good for anyone, but especially for the kids involved. I really believe that a little help at the right time can make all the difference.”

      “So why didn’t you pursue that? You were always a great student, and you were definitely smart enough to do well in college.”

      “Money, for one.”

      “There’s all kinds of scholarships out there,” he argued, as if him saying it was enough to make it happen. And for Brian, someone full of talent and self-confidence, it was probably true.

      But for her, the real problem had been something she’d never been able to define. With him sitting there, urging her to seriously consider the dream she’d abandoned so long ago, she finally had to admit the truth. To herself.

      “Jeff didn’t think I should do it,” she said in a meek, doormat voice that made her want to cringe. “He said we couldn’t afford to lose my salary and waste money on something that might not pan out. After a while, I guess I started to believe him.”

      Brian’s jaw clenched around something he was clearly dying to say but wouldn’t because he respected her feelings. She couldn’t recall the last time anyone had kept an opinion to themselves out of concern for how it might hurt her.

      It was comforting to know that—unlike so many people who’d run through her chaotic life—Brian Calhoun hadn’t changed. He still cared about her, and even though she’d blown her one chance with him, he’d make a great friend, she realized. A girl in her situation could never have too many of those.

      “He was wrong,” Brian finally spat, his words heavily salted with disdain. “You can do whatever you set your mind to, Lindsay. Now that you’re away from him, I hope you’ll forget everything he ever told you and be able to focus on what’s best for you and the baby. Anything else is just noise, as far as I can see.”

      “Focus,” she echoed, tilting her head while she considered his advice. “You’re right. That’s exactly what I need. What I always needed,” she admitted, shaking her head as things crystallized in her mind. “I just never found a way to get it.”

      “You were too distracted, trying to get past your mom’s reputation and make people like you. Then you met Jeff, and you lost sight of everything else.”

      Lost was exactly how she’d felt her entire life, she realized with a clarity so sudden it felt like a starburst in her mind. Except for when a small-town boy had reached out and offered her not only his attention but his love.

      And how did she repay his generosity? She turned away from everything he represented, leaping into an uncertain future with a man who’d later stolen her ability to provide for the innocent child he’d abandoned when he left her.

      When her morose thoughts receded, she realized that Brian had stood and was leaving the office.

      “Brian?” When he glanced back, she swallowed hard and forced herself to do something she now knew she should have done years ago. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I never meant to.”

      A brief flash of affection lit his eyes, and he gave her the crooked grin that brought to mind the way he’d looked the very first time she met him. “I know.”

      With that, he left her and returned to the baffling array of equipment waiting for him out in the shop. As he went, she could faintly hear him whistling the same song he’d been listening to when she showed up at the forge yesterday. He knew it was her favorite, so she didn’t doubt that he was making the musical gesture very much on purpose.

      And for the first time in ages, Lindsay allowed herself to believe that after years of wrong turns and bad decisions, things might finally be okay.