by Donna Alward
He didn’t have an answer so he let the matter drop. The truth was she’d been thinking about her mother more and more since finding out she was pregnant. And the more she thought the less she understood. She already loved the baby inside her and she hadn’t even planned it and the situation was less than ideal. It didn’t stop the love, though.
She spotted a flower store so she pulled in and waited while he popped in for a bouquet. After that they let the radio do the talking for them as they left the city behind for the wide-open spaces of fertile ranch land. It was the second week of April; the bluebonnets had peaked the week before and spread in a stunning blue carpet along the roadsides. Lizzie loved wildflower season. When she was a girl she used to love wandering the ranch and picking blooms to bring home. No matter the weed or flower, they’d always found a place on the kitchen table. Even in the grandeur of the Baron house, the family wasn’t too proud for Texas wildflowers.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Chris spoke softly, reaching over and turning down the radio.
“That particular shade of blue is my favorite color. Deep and dark, not quite blue and not quite purple.”
“My mama used to pick them and put them on the kitchen table,” he said, staring out the window, not knowing how her thoughts had taken the same direction just moments before.
“Your mom sounds great,” Lizzie said weakly.
“She is. You’ll like her, I think. She has a real knack for keeping things organized and on track.”
“Are you calling me bossy, Christopher?”
He rewarded her with a saucy grin. “Yes. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. My mom kept everyone on schedule, dressed, fed and under budget as often as was humanly possible. She helped with my homework and expected good grades just as much if not more than my dad expected good rodeo scores.” She could feel his gaze on her face. “They taught me the value of hard work and responsibility and I’ll always be grateful for that.”
She turned troubled eyes to his. “Are they going to hate me?”
He shook his head. “No. Not at all. I promise.”
Lizzie exited off the highway and her nerves increased. “Let me tell my family, will you? When the time is right?”
He reached over and touched her thigh. “Of course. Lizzie, about the other night...”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“That wasn’t what I was going to say. But I don’t think you’re ready to hear it yet. Later. Let’s deal with this first. Just remember, I’ve got your back.”
It was more than she deserved and she knew it.
“Why are you so nice to me?”
His low chuckle rode over her nerve endings. “Maybe because I don’t see a reason not to be. I like you, Lizzie. I have from the start. We’re in a hell of a situation but you’re handling it the best you can. You’ve been fair and I’m trying to be fair in return. Not a bad start to parenting, really.” He smiled at her, encouraging.
“You gave up your home. You moved here. You gave up your year off. And I’ve sacrificed nothing.”
Again he laughed. “You will.”
She didn’t understand what he meant, but they’d reached the lane leading into Roughneck and she shuddered in a breath. “This is it,” she breathed, slowing to keep the dust down as she approached the main house.
* * *
CHRIS TRIED TO keep his mouth from dropping open. He’d never been to Roughneck but he’d heard it was grand. What he’d heard hadn’t done it justice. The house itself was constructed of stone, roof peaks jutting up from the manor-type design that spread across a gorgeous, green-carpeted front lawn. Several cars sat in a parking area to the left; beyond that were barns and outbuildings and fenced-in pastures where healthy-looking horses were grazing in the spring sunshine. “Holy shit,” he breathed, overwhelmed. “This is where you grew up?”
She nodded. “The house wasn’t always this big. When the oil strike happened, it changed everything.”
It certainly had. He wasn’t sure he’d been in anything this awesome in his life.
She parked next to a little car which she said was Julieta’s. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? My family can be a little intimidating.”
“We’ve met, remember?”
“Yes, but my dad was unconscious. That changes a lot.”
Great. Like he wasn’t already nervous enough. He knew what showing up to a family dinner meant. It meant she was still up to carrying on the facade that they were a couple. Putting the best image on this as she possibly could. Trouble was, he was starting to wish it were true.
Well, he’d play along. With pleasure. For now.
“I’ll be fine. I’m tougher than I look.”
She laughed a little. “I hope so.”
He carried his flowers loosely in his hand, following her up the path to the front door. She didn’t knock but walked right in, calling out “We’re here!” in a singsongy voice. He watched as she strode ahead of him, dressed in a pretty floral sundress and sandals that were far removed from both her work attire and the sexy black dress she’d worn on their dinner date. He thought he liked this look best of all. She looked cute. Approachable.
“About time you got here!” Savannah’s voice came from the kitchen and she barreled around the corner, grinning from ear to ear and capturing Lizzie in a hug. “Pecan pie. I hope you’re ready for it.” She stepped back and Lizzie wiped a smudge of flour off her dress.
“Chris, you made it! Good to see you,” Savannah greeted, and he got the feeling that he’d have at least one ally here tonight. He was going to need it. The gorgeous stone work of the house was amazing, and above his head broad beams crisscrossed the ceiling. He didn’t often feel out of his league, but he did now.
“Lizzie!” Julieta came through the French doors leading to the patio. “And Christopher. It’s good to see you again.”
“Good to see you, too, Mrs. Baron,” he replied, handing out the flowers.
“Oh, goodness. You can’t call me Mrs. Baron, it makes me feel old. Julieta is fine.” She peered into the brown paper and smiled. “And these are beautiful. I’ll put them in water and they’ll go on our table tonight.”
Julieta and Savannah both disappeared and Lizzie smiled at him. “Two down. Six to go.”
“Six?”
“Dad, Carly, the boys...and Anna, our housekeeper.”
Of course. A housekeeper. Why not? “Ah yes. The black-eyed-pea woman.”
She flashed him a smile and then led him through the French doors to the backyard, which was just as stunning as the interior. Cobbled stonework, glass-topped patio tables with umbrellas and comfortable chairs dotted the area around an outdoor kitchen featuring a grill the size of his motel-room bed. Fragrant smoke snuck out from beneath the grill cover while Jet reached for a set of tongs. Daniel and Jacob stood nearby, each with a beer in his hand while the patriarch of them all, Brock, sat in a wheelchair with a highball glass tipped to his mouth. Carly was nowhere to be found, and neither was Anna. A splash from his right told him that Alex was in the pool.
“Dad,” Lizzie called out, reaching back and squeezing Chris’s hand. She was nervous, he realized, and he squeezed back.
“Lizzie! About time you paid a visit. These phone calls and video things are way too impersonal. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about...”
“Not tonight, Daddy,” she chided, going over and kissing his cheek. “Let’s leave business for one night and just have some family time, okay?”
He frowned but nodded. “You’ve brought company.”
She pasted on a smile and Chris followed suit. “Chris Miller, sir,” he said, holding out his hand. “It’s good to meet you.”
Brock’s strength clearly hadn’t suffered from his trip to the hospital. His grip was firm and, Chris thought, i
ssued a silent warning as they shook hands. Chris met his gaze steadily.
That’s my daughter you’re fooling with.
I’m not the fooling type. Sir.
Brock gave a short nod and released his hand. “Julieta tells me you were at the hospital after my accident.”
“Yes, sir. Liz was upset and I went along for support.”
“She said you were good to her boy. You like children, son?”
Lizzie coughed beside him but Chris never flinched. “Actually, yes, I do.”
“Have any of your own running around?”
“Dad!” Lizzie protested, but Chris chuckled at the same time as Jacob and Daniel burst out laughing at their dad giving Chris the third degree.
“It’s okay, Liz. I’m just getting the dad test. And no, sir, I don’t have any children. Yet.”
Brock smiled then, a sly grin that curved his lips just a little but lit his eyes. “You’ll do. For now.” He raised an eyebrow that told Chris he’d better not put a hair out of line.
Boy, was the old guy going to flip his lid when they made their announcement later.
“Chris! Chris! Watch me!”
The call came from the pool and he looked up to see Alex do a perfect cannonball from the diving board. He recognized Carly, sitting beside the pool talking to an older lady—Anna, he supposed, as she was the only one he didn’t recognize.
“I think I’m being called on to judge. Excuse me?”
“Sure. You want a drink? I’ll bring you one.”
“Whatever you’re having.” He smiled at her, and then for good measure leaned over and kissed her cheek. The blush was already infusing her skin before he turned away to go to the pool.
He spent ten minutes watching Alex, until Anna told the boy he had to get out and change for dinner. Lizzie brought him a sweet tea and he chatted with Carly, who he learned was particularly interested in bull riding, and then hung with the boys, who were arguing over the ribs and making plans to fly to California the next weekend for a round-up. It was loud and boisterous and mostly good-natured—the sort of family gathering he’d missed growing up. He knew Lizzie grumbled about her family a lot, but did she realize how lucky she was?
Their child would be born into this. It was pretty incredible, but Chris couldn’t help feeling like an odd man out. Like he was on the outside, looking in. Nearly a part of it but not quite.
Lizzie slid up beside him and put her arm through his. “You okay? The Barons en masse can be a little intimidating.”
“I’m holding my own, darlin’.” He smiled down at her and her gaze skittered away. “Don’t be shy,” he whispered, leaning his head down just a little. To anyone looking on, it would look like they were having an intimate few moments.
“I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. They’re your family. They love you.”
“Ha! Sure they do. But they’re also opinionated, judgmental, nosy...”
“Just like families are supposed to be. Relax.” He should take his own advice. The thought of eight sets of eyes staring at him like a criminal who’d stolen Lizzie’s virtue didn’t sit well.
“How can you be so calm?” She looked up at him and he saw the nervousness in her eyes.
“Because one of us has to be,” he replied, smiling.
Jet called out that the ribs were done to perfection, and bowls started appearing in a staggering number. Salads, baked beans, mounds of corn bread... The Barons didn’t mess around when it came to a family dinner. There were napkins for saucy fingers and bone bowls for rib scraps.
“Come on, everyone, dig in!” Julieta called out as Jet loaded the ribs onto a huge tray.
Anna got Alex situated with his favorites and cut his ribs for him, leaving the meat on the bone so he wouldn’t miss out on the messy pleasure of eating them. Chris grabbed a plate and served himself buffet style like everyone else, taking a seat beside Lizzie around the huge table.
As Alex looked up with sauce smeared on his happy face, Chris had the disturbing thought that he could get used to this. But maybe he shouldn’t. This wasn’t his family. And when he and Lizzie coparented, he’d still be the guy left just a little on the outside.
Chapter Ten
The noise around the table was no different from any other Sunday, but tonight Lizzie listened more carefully, speaking when she was spoken to but for the most part, keeping quiet. Brock was his regular blustery self, complaining about his wheelchair while Julieta assured him calmly that he could use his crutches when he got inside where the floor was even, so he wouldn’t snub them up on the cobblestones. Lizzie’s siblings razzed each other as brothers and sisters do, then moved on to talking about rodeo standings and particular events. Carly shared a story about a current female bull rider that earned her a disapproving look from her father and teasing from the boys, who all insisted the girls should stick to barrel racing and chili cook-offs—which in turn earned them well-aimed elbows from both Carly and Savannah. One big, raucous, loving family.
Now and again Chris added to the conversation, talking about past events and different horses he’d ridden—those he’d been bucked off and the ones he’d shown who was boss.
He fit in incredibly well. Too well. She certainly wasn’t comfortable with it since she didn’t even know her own feelings.
“You’re being awfully quiet, Lizzie,” Carly observed, pushing away her plate. Tonight Carly’s standard braid was done as a fishtail, making her look even younger than usual.
“Not like I could get a word in edgewise,” she joked back, but she felt Chris’s eyes on her to the right and she turned her head and met his questioning glance.
Is now the right time?
As right as it’s gonna be.
He squeezed her hand, his lips curved the tiniest bit and she took a big breath.
“Actually, I kind of have an announcement to make.”
The conversation died off and all eyes turned on her expectantly. Brock’s gaze sharpened and Savannah innocently asked, “Does it have something to do with the office? You’ve done a great job, hasn’t she, Dad?”
Lizzie swallowed and hurried to correct her. “No, not that, but thanks. I appreciate the vote of confidence.” She squeezed Chris’s hand back, gripping tight. “Actually, we have an announcement. Um...it looks like there’ll be the pitter-patter of little feet around here about the middle of October.”
Utter and complete silence greeted her announcement. Her own smile felt false and every single family member was staring at her with their mouths hanging open. All except Alex, who was still gnawing on his last piece of rib, unconcerned with the grown-up conversation.
“You’re...pregnant?” Carly asked, her voice incredulous.
“Yeah.” Lizzie’s smile wavered. “I’m almost done my first trimester. Just another week or so to go.” She looked over at Chris, needing the solidarity. “We actually heard the heartbeat a while back. It was pretty cool.”
“Most amazing moment of my life,” Chris said beside her, and her heart nearly wept with gratitude. At least they were showing a unified front.
“Wow, talk about a shock,” Jet said, the tone of his voice saying he’d never be caught dead in such a situation. Settling down was definitely not on her little brother’s agenda.
“You sure know how to keep a secret,” Savannah added.
Daniel elbowed Jacob. “I’ll bet you fifty bucks it’s a boy.”
“I’ll take that bet, fifty on the girl.” The brothers shook hands.
Julieta’s soft voice cut in smoothly. “And you’re feeling all right, Lizzie? Looking after yourself?”
Chris’s arm circled the back of her chair. “I’m making sure she does.”
Lizzie’s cheeks warmed. “Other than a bit of morning sickness, I’m fine. And hopefully that�
�s just about over.”
Still there’d been no word from Brock, and those were the words she was dreading most.
“You knew when I had my accident?”
Brock’s voice was deceptively calm at the end of the table, a tone they’d all come to dread. It usually meant that either a storm was coming, or a speech that had something to do with disappointment. Lizzie wondered if she was teed up for both.
“I’d known for a week or so, yeah.” She looked around the table. “That was why I was in San Antonio. I was at Chris’s place, telling him the news.”
And he’d only known her as Elizabeth at that point. Not that the family needed to know that. They were shocked enough about the pregnancy. They didn’t need to know the sordid conception details.
“You knew when you came to me about letting you take over at the office, and you didn’t say anything about it.”
“I was more worried about you. You’d been through a lot.”
His fist banged down on the table. “Damn it, Lizzie. You assured me you were more than capable of handling things!”
Julieta put a calming hand on his arm. “Honey, she’s pregnant, not an invalid.”
Lizzie’s temper bubbled. “I am capable of handling things! Is there anything I’ve done that’s jeopardized the business in any way? Don’t bother replying, we both know the answer is no because I report to you every night since you don’t trust me enough to let me do the job on my own.”
Alex stopped gnawing on his bone and looked up. Lizzie’s five siblings all sat back a little in their chairs, a unanimous expression of “whoa” written all over their faces.
“Liz,” Chris said quietly at her side.
“Her name is Lizzie,” Brock snapped.
She saw Chris’s jaw tighten.
“My name is Elizabeth,” she said quietly, but with an underlying note of steel. “And Chris can call me Liz if he wants to.”