by Donna Alward
“Sir,” Chris began cautiously, “we wanted to tell the family all together. We’re really quite excited about the baby. We hoped Lizzie’s family would be, too.” She noticed he’d switched back to Lizzie—a placating gesture?
“Does that mean you’re getting married?” Savannah asked, and Lizzie wanted to throttle her well-intentioned sister.
“We’re taking our time to figure everything out,” Chris replied, cutting Lizzie off before she could answer.
“Chris quit the circuit and took a management job with his previous company right here in Dallas, to be closer to...to us.” She looked over and offered Chris a small smile. “It was a pretty big step, and we’re just taking things one day at a time for now.”
Brock continued to glare down the table but the family seemed to be recovering from the shock fairly well. “Well,” Jet said, leaning his chair back on two legs. “I’m going to be an uncle. How ’bout that.”
“It’ll be nice to have a baby around again,” Julieta offered gently. “I’ve missed that since Alex started school.”
“We should have pie to celebrate,” Savannah piped up. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll help,” Jacob offered, getting up from the table.
Carly stood, too. “Come on, Daniel, let’s start clearing these dirty dishes.”
“I’ll help,” Chris offered, getting up and taking Lizzie’s and his plates and a big bowl of denuded bones.
No one thought it odd that Anna, the housekeeper and cook, didn’t get up to help. She had her hands full getting Alex to the bathtub without smearing sauce on any other surfaces than his face. Lizzie smiled as she watched the older woman marshal her young charge inside. Anna had been with the family for a long time. Even when they were kids, though, they’d had to pitch in and help. Just because they’d had money didn’t mean they’d been allowed to skip out on good, hard work.
“Daddy,” Lizzie said quietly, wanting to smooth the waters, knowing the family had given her the space to do just that. “I’m sorry. I know the timing isn’t great. I just... I knew you were worried about the company and frustrated at being injured and I didn’t want to add to it. I promise I’m fine. And you’ll be back to work long before the baby’s born anyway.”
His gaze softened a little and she was encouraged. “You’re going to be a grandpa,” she murmured, and pressed her hand to her belly.
“Lizzie.” He sighed. “I just... Damn, girl. I kind of hoped you’d do things in the proper order.”
She laughed. “Dad, please. I’m thirty already. I was so busy with my job and everything else that I never really made time for serious relationships. If I’d dated and then gotten married and finally got around to having kids, my eggs probably would have dried up.”
Brock chuckled at last. “Can’t really argue with that.” He frowned. “Lizzie, why do you think I didn’t want you to take over the company? I know you can do the job. But it’s a big job, and it eats up your life. And before you know it you’re getting old and falling off bulls and getting banged up and carted around in a stupid chair.”
“Daddy,” she whispered, and got up to go around the table and pull out a chair next to him. “You’re not old.”
“I’m no spring chicken, sweetheart.”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Well, duh.”
He chuckled again.
“This Chris fellow. He’s treating you right?”
She swallowed, thought back to how understanding and generous Chris had been since finding out the news. After the initial surprise he’d done just about everything right. Some things too right, she thought, remembering the way he’d kissed her on the sofa.
“Better than I deserve,” she admitted.
“That’s not possible,” he said unequivocally.
Her heart melted. “Oh, Daddy, I love you.”
“I love you, too. Which is why I say with all affection that if he hurts you, I’m gonna break both his legs. Even from this chair. I can do it.”
She laughed, relieved that this conversation was drawing to a close and without too much blood spilled.
“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?”
She shook her head, meeting her dad’s gaze and smiling. “I’m thinking we’ll leave it a surprise right until the end.”
He patted her hand. “I’ll be walking on my own long before then. I’m going pretty good on my crutches now.”
“Well, don’t do anything foolish. We’re going to need you back at the head of the boardroom table, and don’t you forget it.”
As if the family sensed the coast was clear, the doors opened and they spilled through, carrying pie, ice cream, plates and a pot of coffee. Chris put down the stack of dessert plates and leaned over under the pretense of kissing her hair, the soft caress burning through her scalp, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
“Everything okay?”
She looked up. “Sure is,” she replied.
And then he did the last thing she expected. He leaned down an extra two inches and dropped a quick, but soft, kiss on her upturned lips.
He was taking the charade a little too far in her opinion. Her lips tingled from the kiss and she knew the rest of the family had seen it. When coffee was poured, Chris made sure she had a glass of milk to go with her pie. Her chair was a little too close and more than once during the conversations that followed, his arm rode along the back of her chair.
The light was softening when Alex burst back outside, dressed in cotton pajamas, his face scrubbed shiny and his dark curls damp against his scalp. “Chris, Anna said it was okay to ask if you’d tuck me in.”
The request surprised everyone, since Chris was a new addition to the family scene, but he pushed back his chair. “Sure, partner.”
“’Night, Mama. ’Night, Dad. ’Night, everybody.” Alex kissed Julieta and then Brock’s cheek before holding out his hand to Chris. “Wait’ll you see my room. Mama let me pick out my wallpaper and everything.”
Lizzie watched as Chris took Alex’s hand. “Let me guess. Cars?” He looked over his shoulder and winked at Lizzie.
“Cars? No way!” Alex’s protest sounded as they went back in the house. “It’s horses, of course.”
Lizzie started cleaning up the dessert mess once he was gone and Brock wheeled himself up to the doors where Julieta was waiting with his crutches to help him over the step and inside. The boys said their good-nights and went their own ways, and Carly, Savannah, Lizzie and Anna finished putting the kitchen to rights. Carly would spend the night with Savannah in her space above the store, and head to her own home in Houston in the morning.
Anna was the first to pipe up about Chris. “Alex likes your Chris a lot,” she observed, loading the last of the plates in the dishwasher.
“He likes children. Lucky for me, right?” She smiled. It wouldn’t be much longer. She could keep this up for a little bit more and then they could go home and she would have a warm bath and decompress.
Carly wiped out a serving bowl and looked over at her sister. “You haven’t been seeing each other that long, though, right?”
Here it comes, Lizzie thought. “It wasn’t planned, no. And at first I was pretty panicked. But now...” She put her hands on her belly. “Now I’m used to the idea. I’m excited. I’m just worried that...”
She frowned. She’d never really talked to her sisters about their mother. She’d always felt it was her job to keep things together, to make the best of it. Not bring up the hurtful past.
“Worried about what, Lizzie?” Savannah put her hand on Lizzie’s arm. “Is it Chris?”
Lizzie shook her head. “No. It’s Mom. You guys were even younger than me, so I don’t know how much you remember.”
“You’ve been thinking about her a lot?”
“She left us. What if I’m like her? I’m worried maybe I won’t be a good mom, you know?”
Anna had been listening keenly. Now she came over and gave Lizzie a big hug. “You will be fine, little one, because you have all of us to help you, and your young man, too. He’s steady as they come, I think.”
She only felt marginally better. “I wish I could talk to her and ask her why she left.”
Anna’s gray head bobbed in agreement. “I know.” If the housekeeper had any idea of why, she’d never said. Not once over the years.
“Are you thinking of looking for her?” Carly asked, her eyes wide.
“I don’t know. She’s going to be a grandmother now....”
The women were all silent for a minute, pondering that idea.
“Well,” Lizzie said, a little lighter, “like I said tonight, one step at a time and there’s no rush, is there?” She wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Do you guys mind if I skip out for a bit? I wanted to show Chris the barns and the arena before we go. We didn’t have a chance earlier.”
“Go ahead. This is pretty much done anyway.”
She stopped at the den to say good-night to Brock and Julieta, and then made her way to Alex’s room. She peeked inside and saw Alex sitting up in bed, Chris perched on the side of the mattress, reading from a book. She stayed hidden, listening to Chris’s deep voice take on the character of a cowboy who kept losing his clothes when he slept and so learned to sleep with his boots on. She smiled as he got to the end and Alex asked for one more story.
“Sorry, partner, I promised your mom just one. You need your sleep.”
“Awwww!”
“Trust me, Alex. Most of the time it’s in your best interest to listen to your mom.”
“Dad says it’s good training for marriage,” Alex piped up, and Chris laughed.
“Can this cowboy stand one more kiss good-night?” Lizzie asked, stepping into the room.
“I guess. You’re too old to have girl germs.”
“Ouch!”
Alex grinned at Lizzie, well aware that he’d delivered a perfect insult. She ruffled his hair, and then tickled his ribs. “Good night, scamp.”
“’Night, Lizzie. Are you really having a baby?”
She smiled down at him with affection. Most of the time Alex seemed like a nephew rather than a brother. “Yes, I’m really having a baby.”
“Good. Now maybe Mama will quit treating me like one.”
Chris stifled a laugh as Lizzie tucked in the covers. “Sweet dreams.” She kissed his cheek.
Alex curled his fingers around his comforter and rested his head on the pillow. “Leave my night-light on, ’kay?”
Lizzie and Chris left the room, shutting the door but leaving it open a crack.
“Do you want to see the barns before we go? I meant to give you a tour earlier.”
“That’d be nice.”
“I already said my goodbyes, so we can just leave when we’re done.”
“If you’re too tired...”
She shook her head. “No, I think some fresh air and a walk is just what I need. Come on.”
They ambled through the twilight to the first of the barns. She flicked on a light and the long corridor lit up. She’d spent lots of time in here as a kid, helping clean stalls, feeding horses, polishing tack. She’d enjoyed the ranching side of the business as well as the other kids, though she’d never quite got into the rodeo scene the way they had. She’d been more into the oil side of things from the start. She’d enjoyed following her dad into the office, sitting up on a spare chair and doodling while he worked.
“Wow, this is some setup,” Chris said, stepping forward. “My dad would be in heaven.”
“Jet’s place is down the road. He likes his independence. Still, the boys are pretty active here, especially with the arena. They do a lot of their training here.”
“You keep bucking stock?”
“Yessir.” They walked down the quiet corridor, their shoes echoing on the concrete floor. Chris stopped at the tack room and looked inside. “Holy cow. This is huge.”
She flicked on that light, too, illuminating the long room that smelled like leather and rags and oil—memories of her childhood. “I love this room,” she confessed. “When I was younger, I’d sneak down here with a book and disappear. Saddle blankets are a mighty comfortable reading bench.”
“You came here a lot?”
She looked up at him with a small smile. “Are you kidding? With two sisters and three brothers? Peace and quiet was a valuable commodity.”
He laughed and ran his hand over a smooth saddle, his fingers tracing the elaborate design on the fender flap. She tried not to stare at the gentle movement of his hands, caressing the supple leather.
“We’ve got some new babies right now that are out with their mamas in the corral,” she suggested, scrambling for conversation. “You want to see?”
He nodded, so she shut off the lights and they went back out into the corridor. At the end, she rolled back the door and led him to the white-fenced corral next to the barn.
Lizzie looked at the mares and foals differently now that she was expecting her own baby. There was no question the sight of them made her heart go a little mushy. Her hand drifted once more to her tummy, an action that was becoming rather automatic as she got used to her pregnancy. Mamas and babies—strong, solid legs and fragile, gangly ones. Stability and fragility as the unsteady foals relied on the security of their mothers. Together Lizzie and Chris rested their elbows on the top rail of the fence and watched as one soft, chestnut-colored foal with white socks nuzzled close to his mom to nurse.
“They’re so adorable at this age, aren’t they? All soft and fuzzy and wobbly?”
Chris nodded and gave a soft laugh. “And then they turn into teenagers and want to buck you off into oblivion.”
She grinned. “Well, that’s their job.”
“My dad, he was foreman on a ranch where they raised working stock. I used to love it. Lived for it. I spent my weekends cleaning stalls and grooming horses when I was small, and then I got into rodeo. His boss’s son and I started out as juniors together. I was lucky, because Mom and Dad probably couldn’t have afforded to do that for me. Jeb Tucker treated me like I was his own kid.”
“Sounds like you had a good childhood.”
“The best,” he confirmed. “The kind I’d like to give my child, too.”
Her heart softened even more. “You’re going to be a good dad, Christopher. Maybe how we met was less than ideal, but...I’m starting to think that if this had to happen, I got pretty lucky.”
His shoulder nudged hers. “We’re going to be all right, aren’t we?” he asked.
She nodded. “I think so. I think we both want to put this baby first, and as long as we do that, everything else will fall into place.”
“Liz...”
He turned to her and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to let him put his arms around her and kiss her. His lips tasted like Savannah’s pecan pie and the scent of his cologne mingled with the verdant smells of springtime—grass and bluebells and rich, fertile soil. He shifted just a little, and her arms slid around his back, running over the taut muscles beneath his shirt.
“Whew,” he breathed, breaking off the kiss.
She smiled shyly, though inside desire was pounding through her. Maybe it was just a hormonal surge, but his kisses lit her up like Fourth of July fireworks.
“You want to see the arena Dad built? The boys do a lot of their training there.” It would probably be good to change the subject, not let anything get out of hand.
“Does it mean we’ll be out of view of the house?”
There was an urgency to his voice that made her heart pound. “Maybe the arena isn’t a g
ood idea,” she retracted.
“Maybe the arena is a great idea,” he replied, his eyes dark with intent as twilight fell around them.
“Chris...”
“Stop analyzing everything. I’m enjoying getting to know you in your element.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She tilted her head up, frowning a little.
“It means,” he murmured, leaning forward and nuzzling her ear, making her shiver with delight, “that your condo is a bit of a mystery. There’s not a lot of you in it. But here, with your family...” He smiled against her cheek. “It’s very illuminating.”
She’d have to remember to ask him what that meant later. Right now she was having a hard time focusing on much of anything, Chris was being so distracting.
He took her hand and led her to the door of the arena, slipping inside but leaving the lights off.
Nerves bubbled around in her stomach. She should be pulling away. Should be insisting that they leave and go home. Should be protesting that this would only make things worse...
The problem was she wanted to be with him as much as he seemed to want to be with her. The attraction of that first night hadn’t been a one-time, flip-it-off-with-a-switch kind of feeling. It was still there. It was in the tingling of her lips where he’d kissed her, the ache of her fingertips wanting to touch him.
“Th-this is the arena. As you can see we had chutes put in on the west side for when the boys want to train, and over there we have barrels for barrel racing.” She pointed a shaky finger but Chris caught her hand and clasped it in his.
“That’s all very interesting,” he whispered. “Do you know that I always thought it was crazy when people spoke of a pregnant glow? But now I get it, because you have it, Lizzie. You have a light about you that is beautiful.”
She’d been melting without needing the sweet words, but having them weakened her resolve even more. No one had ever called her beautiful before. Smart, efficient, driven, responsible...but not beautiful.
And sometimes a girl liked to be called pretty, she admitted, if only to herself.
“What are we doing, Chris?” He was standing too close again, and she felt her shoulders and bottom touch the smooth wall at the entrance to the ring as she stepped backward. There was nowhere to go now—not that she really wanted to.