The Texan's Baby (Texas Rodeo Barons)

by Donna Alward

  Neither do I, Lizzie thought, shouldering her bag and heading to the hospital room.

  Brock was lying in the bed, a blue blanket covering him to his hips, still dressed in a hospital gown. His color was paler than usual, his gray hair limp on his head. There was a newspaper on his lap, but it was abandoned and his eyes were closed.

  She turned around to leave when his voice stopped her. “I’m awake. No need to run away with your tail between your legs.”

  Stay calm, she reminded herself, and don’t let him provoke you. Pushing a person’s buttons and then gauging their reaction was a Brock Baron litmus test. One she’d become pretty adept at passing.

  “How’re you feeling?” she asked, perching on the bed.

  “Like I got run over by a bull. Oh wait. I did.”

  “Yes, you did, you big fool. What on earth were you doing bull riding anyway?”

  “It was a seniors’ rodeo and I’m not in my grave yet.”

  “You’re going to be if you keep up this foolishness.”

  He lifted an eyebrow as his eyes cleared. “You’re starting to sound like my wife and not my daughter.”

  “That’s probably because we both love you, you old coot.”

  His face softened then. “Hard to argue against that now, isn’t it? Glad you’re giving me a hard time like normal. All the long looks around here and I was starting to worry I wouldn’t be okay.”

  She sighed and relaxed. “I’m under firm orders not to upset you. But really—how are you?”

  “The pain’s okay. Head hurts a bit, which is why the lights are low. The painkillers are taking care of most of it.”

  “Good.”

  “Doc said it’s going to be a long haul, but I’ll be up and around before you know it. You wait and see.”

  This was where it was going to be difficult. “Dad, it’s going to be a little while at least. I can step in at the office until you’re back to full strength.”

  “I was thinking Jet should step in. Perfect time for him to take on more responsibility.”

  This was what she’d been afraid of. “Dad,” she said gently, “I know you want Jet to be part of the business but he’s simply not interested. I talked to him about it last night....”

  “And talked him out of it?”

  She heard the accusation in his voice and held back another sigh. “Not at all. I asked him to come aboard. To work with me. He wasn’t interested. Jacob, on the other hand...”

  “Jacob’s the best rodeo man we have on the place. He could go all the way this year. I’m not pulling him off the circuit.”

  “Even if that’s what he really wants?”

  “Fool boy doesn’t know what he wants.”

  There was no arguing with that tone, even though she was fairly sure Jacob knew exactly what he wanted. Lizzie knew the tone well and so she let the matter drop—for now. She would not pick a fight.

  “Dad,” she started again, “I can do this. I just need the go-ahead from you.”

  He rested his head back against the pillow. “I don’t know, Lizzie. The rest of the board—they’re old school. I’m not sure how they’ll take to a woman sitting at the head of the table.”

  “I’m not just a woman. I’m a Baron. I have more at stake than any of them. The days of the old boys’ club are over, Dad.”

  “Mark is the natural choice, as CFO,” Brock continued, looking sideways at her.

  “Are you trying to rile me up, Daddy? Because Mark Baker is a big old pain in my ass. He’s the worst of the bunch.”

  “Why, because you asked him out and he refused?”

  Her mouth opened and closed several times. “What?” she sputtered. “Who told you that?”

  “Mark did, when he first came on at Baron. Thought it might be a problem. I didn’t think it was, until now.”

  The rat bastard. Lizzie forgot about not rising to the bait and her temper heated. “That little weasel is a bald-faced liar. Truth is he asked me out when we were in college and I refused. He’s so full of himself that he called me an icy bitch. You hired him the year before I finished school and he’s been smug about it ever since I started in the HR department.”

  Brock smirked a little, somehow satisfied with her response. “I could use some of that water. The painkillers make my mouth dry.”

  She reached for the cup on the rolling table and handed it over. Brock adjusted the straw and took a long pull. “Ahhh,” he said, handing the cup back. “So you gave him the brush-off. Interesting. Still, he’s very good at his job.”

  “And so am I. And I’m family.”

  Brock pondered for a few moments. “It’s a big responsibility, Liz,” he finally said, serious once more. “And I’m not going to be out that long. Things will be fine.”

  “No, they won’t,” she argued. “Not to mention investor confidence. This needs to be decided and handled in the right way. Ask Julieta. She’ll tell you the same thing—someone needs to be visible as leading the company. She can draft up a press release in no time.”

  “Then I can work from home.”

  Lizzie pressed her hands to her suddenly aching temples. “Dad, I know you’ll have your laptop and video conferencing is a great thing, and we can definitely use those tools. But you won’t be able to come to meetings for a while, and you’re going to have physiotherapy appointments as well as tiring a little more easily. I’m asking you to trust me with this.”

  Brock looked away.

  Lizzie’s heart softened. “Look, I know you hate this. We all do. I also know you like to be in the thick of things. You’re Brock Baron, right? Large and in charge. But you have to trust someone sometime.” She pulled out the final weapon in her arsenal. “Can’t you trust your own daughter?”

  “I know you don’t understand why I want Jet in the business,” Brock said, his voice quieter now. “That has nothing to do with my confidence in you. You’ve never let me down, Lizzie. I know that.”

  Except she had. Because he was on the cusp of putting his faith in her and then she was going to have to tell him, one day soon, that she was accidentally pregnant and about to become a single mom. For Brock Baron, family was everything. He’d stepped in and raised them alone after Delia left. Then he’d adopted Peggy’s boys and they were family even now that Peggy was gone. Same with Julieta and Alex. Brock was definitely all about the family unit and the two-parent home. Something that her baby wouldn’t have.

  She touched her lips, remembering Chris’s kiss from this morning. If only things weren’t quite so complicated where he was concerned.

  “If I put you in the driver’s seat, I don’t want to be left in the dark or have any surprises. I want daily updates on what’s happening and the status with projects.”

  What he wanted was his finger in every pie, but Lizzie hadn’t really expected it to be any other way.

  “Of course.” Considering the loss of the recent contract, it wasn’t an unreasonable request.

  “And I’ll be included in any board meetings and votes. If I can’t make it to the office, I’ll video from the ranch.”

  “That’s fine, too.”

  He met her gaze. “Then consider yourself the interim president of Baron Energies.”

  The title and everything. Lizzie hadn’t expected that. “Dad...”

  “If the board’s going to support you, they need to know I’m behind you 100 percent.”

  Oh, God. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? So why was she suddenly so terrified?

  “I’ll take care of it for you, I promise.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

  “I’m not worried. I’m going to be with you every step of the way. And this isn’t for very long. A few weeks, that’s all.”

  That was the time frame Brock wanted, but Lizzie already
knew the recovery could take longer than he expected. He thought he was invincible. That the rules didn’t apply, but they did. Already their conversation had tired him. She could see it around his eyes and mouth, a look of strain and exhaustion.

  “I’m going to go for now, but I’ll check in tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay. Lizzie, first thing you should do is call a meeting for Monday morning and have Julieta draft a release....”

  “I’ll look after it. You just rest.”

  She kissed him again and left him in the hospital bed, looking vastly unhappy about the whole thing.

  Lizzie wasn’t so sure of herself either, but she’d fake it.

  She’d have to.

  Chapter Five

  By the time they reached San Antonio, Lizzie was exhausted. She’d done the driving this time, and during the extended moments of silence she’d begun planning a meeting agenda for Monday. When they’d stopped for gas, Chris had gotten out to pump and she’d sent two emails to Brock’s executive assistant, Maria, copying in Julieta, who was head of the PR department, and Lizzie’s own assistant, Emory, about the announcement and scheduling the meeting for Monday at 10:00 a.m.

  With the hectic day before, and her restless sleep last night, knowing Chris was downstairs, the thought of another four hours of driving made her sigh. Perhaps she’d start back and get a hotel room for the night.

  She parked at his condo, sliding into a visitor’s spot. “I can’t wait to have a shower and change my clothes,” Chris commented, looking over at her. “Thanks for bringing me back.”

  “Thanks for going with me,” she replied, smiling weakly. “This is going to sound weird, but it was good to have you there last night.”

  “You’re not used to relying on other people,” he guessed, one eyebrow raised.

  She laughed a little. “Not really. I’m the oldest. I think...well, everyone just expects me to handle things, and I do. But it can be a bit lonely.”

  What had prompted her to make such a confession? It must be the fatigue. Certainly not any growing intimacy between them.

  “I think being the oldest must sometimes be like being an only child,” he mused. “There’s a lot of expectation involved. You don’t want to let anyone down.”

  “Your parents are that way? Are they going to freak out about the baby, then? Be disappointed in you?”

  He laughed, and once more she absorbed the pleasant sound. “Well, they’ll wish I’d done it in the order you suggested earlier. But the thought of having a grandchild? They’ll be over the moon.”

  She rested her hands on the steering wheel. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  She swallowed, a little bit afraid if she were honest. “You were a little upset yesterday when I first told you, but you’ve done very little freaking out since. You’re taking this remarkably in stride. Why don’t you blame me more? Why aren’t you angry? I’ve told you something that changes your life forever. Something you didn’t choose.”

  He thought about his answer, a trait she admired. It was a good sign that he thought about his words instead of blurting things out without thinking. “It was an accident,” he said quietly. “And it happened and it can’t be changed, so being angry seems a bit counterproductive. As for why I’m not angry with you?” His gaze met hers. “I was the one who asked you back to my hotel room. I was the one who bought condoms from the vending machine in the bar bathroom—condoms which apparently failed at some point. And above all, what happened isn’t this baby’s fault either. Sometimes you have to play the cards you’re dealt and it usually goes easier if you go with the current of the river instead of swimming against it.”

  “Easier said than done,” she murmured.

  “You’re preaching to the choir,” he answered, smiling ruefully. “Listen, it’s midafternoon and you look whipped. You didn’t stop for lunch. Why don’t you come in and I’ll order something to eat and you can refuel for the drive back.”

  “I shouldn’t take up any more of your time,” she answered. And yet the thought of putting the car in gear and driving for another four hours straight made her feel slightly limp. Then there was the fact that she had to pee. “Maybe I could come in and freshen up, get a drink,” she suggested. “Just for a few minutes.”

  “Whatever.”

  The March sunshine was bright and soaked through her shirt, feeling good after the closed environment of her car. She shut her car door and gave a big stretch, then laughed. “I feel like a cat in the sun,” she commented, stretching again. “Boy, that feels good.”

  Chris’s dark gaze was burning into her again and she suddenly got self-conscious. “Lead on,” she said, diverting her gaze and anchoring her purse strap on her shoulder.

  There was no wait for the elevator and within seconds they were at Chris’s door. He unlocked it and they stepped inside the quiet apartment. Lizzie noticed more today. Yesterday she’d been too nervous to register much of her surroundings. It wasn’t a huge space, but it was clean and nicely decorated. The colors were warm, hues of browns and deep reds, and it felt homey even though it lacked a woman’s touch in the little extras. Chris pointed her in the direction of the bathroom and she disappeared down the short hall.

  When she came back, Chris was nowhere to be found. The door to the room at the end of the hall was closed—probably his bedroom, she realized, and the muffled sound of water running in the ensuite touched her ears. He’d said he was dying for a shower and clean clothes. She didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye, so she went to the kitchen and got a drink of water and then sat down on the sofa to wait.

  The cushions were very comfortable, and with the sound of the shower in the background, her eyelids grew heavy. Just for a moment, she thought, sliding down the cushions a bit more.

  * * *

  CHRIS HUNG UP his towel and turned off the light in the bathroom. The hot shower had felt good, and so did the clean jeans and T-shirt. He’d tried to be quick, knowing that Lizzie was still waiting, but he’d seen women “freshen up” before. He was probably done before she was.

  Which made him quite surprised to find her sound asleep on his sofa, a soft curl of hair draped over her cheek and her lips slightly open.

  God, she was beautiful. It was no wonder he’d temporarily lost his sanity that night.

  He was glad he projected an image of calm about the situation. He’d gotten pretty good at that over the years, but on the inside he was still confused as hell. On one hand, he truly believed in having to play the hand he was dealt, just as he’d said. On the other, he was chafing at the bit. This year was his one chance to do something for himself. Now he was going to have to cut that short for yet another obligation.

  And then of course he felt guilty for feeling resentful, like he was being completely selfish.

  The truth was, he didn’t really want to be an engineer any longer and it was time he faced it head-on. It wasn’t that it was even a bad job. He had great coworkers, good benefits, steady employment and a really good paycheck. But it also didn’t make him happy. His father had pushed for him to get an education, and he understood why. But to his mind, his father had had just about the best job ever in the world.

  This year had been about more than goofing off, more than competing in rodeo. It had been a chance to see what life was like away from AB Windpower, to spend some time figuring out what he really wanted to do. Now, if he were to live up to his obligations, that chance was over. And yet not living up to his obligations was unthinkable.

  While Lizzie slept, he grabbed the cordless phone, disappeared into the quiet kitchen and ordered pizza. Then he emailed AB’s VP of Operations, Nicole Bennett, asking her to call him on Monday morning.

  The buzzer at the lobby echoed through the quiet space and he jumped up, hurrying to answer it. He went down to pay for the foo
d and when he came back up, Lizzie was stretching, her eyes still half closed from her nap.

  The stretch had the same effect on him this time as it had before. Her shirt lifted, revealing a narrow band of skin and also accentuated the rounded curve of her breasts. Attraction? Hell yeah. That first night it had been purely physical, though they’d hit it off, too. Now there was more, and it didn’t even have anything to do with the baby. He liked what he saw and who he saw. She was a good person. A bit driven, but smart and loyal and caring.

  It only made her more attractive.

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” She bit down on her lip and it only served to draw his attention to her full, pink mouth.

  He swallowed thickly. “You’ve had a crazy few days, not to mention the physical changes you must be experiencing. I ordered us in some pizza. I’m hungry.” He smiled. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got one plain pepperoni and the other one loaded.”

  He put the boxes down on the dining table and she pushed herself up off the sofa, straightening her clothes. “Oh, my gosh, that smells good.”

  “You only had toast this morning and then a yogurt at the hospital. You must be starving.”

  “I could eat,” she admitted, her cheeks pinking.

  He got two plates while she opened the boxes. “There are black olives on this one. I think I love you.”

  He chuckled. “Loaded it is, then.”

  She slid the first piece onto her plate. “They’re salty. For some reason they just taste so good right now.”

  “The spicy doesn’t bother you?”

  She shook her head. “Not so far. It’s kind of weird what does and doesn’t make me feel gross. Things I’ve always liked, I don’t anymore. Other things I never ate are suddenly really appealing.”

  He put three large slices on his plate and sat down across from her. “Okay, so what sort of things do you like now that you didn’t before?”

  She ticked her fingers. “Hummus, asparagus, sweet potatoes.”

  “Hmm,” he mused. “I like all of those. In fact I like pretty much everything. Of course, when I was growing up, I ate whatever was on the table. We couldn’t afford for me to be picky.”