MAYBE BABY

by ANDREA SMITH

  “Forgive me,” he said, a slight smile crossing his lips. “I didn’t mean to intrude. Trey, your parents asked that I fetch you and Tylar. Dessert is being served and apparently they want to make a toast.” Landon turned and exited the stable.

  Trey and I exchanged glances. Neither of us knew how much he had heard. Trey took my hand and we returned to the manor. He took my coat from me and hung it up. We took our places at the long dining room table.

  Champagne glasses had been set with everyone's dessert plate. One of the servants was going around the table filling each of the glasses with the bubbly liquid. When he reached mine, Trey whispered something to the servant.

  The servant left, returning momentarily with a bottle of sparkling water, filling my champagne flute. I looked across the table and met Landon's amused glance. No one else at the table seemed to have noticed.

  Clive Sinclair tapped a silver fork against the crystal water glass once before he stood to offer a toast.

  “To Thanksgiving,” he said, looking around the table at the few guests that were gathered. “And to the friends and family we are blessed with being here today to celebrate. Cheers!”

  He raised his flute, and then turned to his wife as they tapped their glasses together before taking a sip of champagne. Trey and I tapped our flutes together in a toast and drank. From across the dining room table, I heard another tapping of silver to crystal, followed by Landon’s voice.

  “If I may,” he said, standing up.

  (Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!)

  I felt Trey stiffen next to me.

  “I’d like to offer a toast as well. To Trey and Tylar,” he said, looking towards us and raising his flute in a toast, “And to the safe arrival of their baby. May their child be spared the unfortunate fate that befell my sister’s baby.”

  From somewhere around the table I heard a gasp. I felt the color drain from my face; Trey was on his feet in an instant, blue eyes blazing with rage.

  “Landon,” he hissed, “Let’s take this outside, now.”

  Susan and Claudia were immediately at their son’s sides; Clive and Nelson followed. It was if everything was unfolding in slow motion; voices, images were all swirling together in a giant collage of color and sound. The room was hot and my body felt clammy; I heard someone shout for Trey to grab me before I sank into dark oblivion.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  When my eyes opened the first thing I saw were Trey’s worried blue ones. I was in his room, lying on his bed. I thanked God I was not in yet another hospital room.

  He leaned over; apparently he had been holding my hand. There was a cold compress on my forehead; I was still somewhat foggy, and then remembered the argument that had ensued in the dining room during dessert.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “You fainted,” he replied, concern in his voice. “How do you feel now?”

  “Just a little shaky,” I said. “I just remember that everything started swirling and it got really hot and loud in the room.”

  “You can thank Landon, for that,” he snapped. “My parents think you need to go to the hospital; to be seen by a doctor, Tylar.”

  “No,” I said abruptly. “No hospital; I’m fine now.”

  “I don’t want to take any chances with you or the baby,” he said quietly.

  I reached up, touching the stubble around his chin dimple with my finger. He closed his hand around mine, raising it slightly to his lips, kissing it gently. His eyes were warm as they locked with mine.

  “I love you, Tylar,” he sighed, a frown creasing his lovely forehead.

  “I know Trey,” I answered, studying his frown. “That’s supposed to be a good thing, you know?”

  He continued to stare at me pensively.

  “It just never has been for me,” he replied softly.

  He stood up, kicking off his shoes, and climbed onto the bed next to me fully dressed. He pulled me over, into the crook of his arm, placing his other hand on my belly. Within a minute, I once again felt the fluttering of butterfly wings beneath his hand. Trey felt it too, looking at me in amazement. I felt so good and so relaxed in his arms. I felt

  so protected and safe. He continued to gently rub my baby bump; the butterfly movements continued.

  “Are you sure that I can’t get you anything to drink?”

  “Honestly, Trey, I feel much better now. I’ve fainted before. I will call my doctor tomorrow and let her know what happened, okay? If she feels I need to be seen, I will go to a doctor here. Satisfied?”

  “I suppose,” he acquiesced.

  He brushed my hair back gently, lifting the cold compress off of my forehead. I felt totally better. I just wanted to stay here in his room with him.

  “Has the company left?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he chuckled. “This is a Thanksgiving they soon won’t forget.”

  “Did you end up punching Landon out?”

  I couldn’t hide the mischievous tone in my voice, secretly hoping that he had. He grinned, shaking his head negatively.

  “I was too busy seeing to you.”

  He was holding my hand now, our fingers interlocked.

  “Do you want to tell me about it, Trey?”

  He sighed again, positioning one arm behind his head, tightening the other one that was wrapped around me.

  “Tess and I knew each other before college,” he began. “She was a year behind me in school. Our parents had been friends for as long as I can remember. She was attending college over here while I was studying at Oxford. Tess’s passion, like yours, was horses. She preferred the training side of it unlike you who prefer the riding side of it. That is what she studied in school over here.”

  “I had finished my undergraduate degree at Oxford, and was to start law school at Harvard in the fall. Tess was getting ready for her senior year at Virginia Intermont – your school,” he noted. “I had purchased Derringer in the U.K. as an early graduation gift for Tess. His bloodline was traced back to Conversano, a black Neapolitan stallion foaled in 1767. She was thrilled when he arrived here.”

  “The Andrews’ don’t stable horses, so he was kept here. Tess’s plan was to train and compete over the summer and into the early fall which would accommodate her fall classes. Tess and I became engaged in June after I returned from Oxford. I had already sent Derringer on ahead, and my father had hired a guy by the name of Zach Flannery to jockey Derringer as he came quite well medaled in dressage.”

  “Zach and Tess worked all summer together. I barely saw her apart from the competitions. She competed on behalf of Sinclair Stables who was picking up all of the entry fees, along with the vet bills, stabling, and so forth. Zach lived on site here as well.”

  Trey paused momentarily collecting his thoughts. I could see the pain in his face, and hear it in his voice when he continued with the story.

  “There was a high level riding school competition scheduled the week after Labor Day. It was one level below Grand Prix. Tess had been working Derringer hard in preparation for it. In truth, she had been working him too hard. He had aggravated a muscle in the rear flank. I had seen the horse at practice right before I left for Harvard. I instructed her to discontinue with his training until the muscle properly healed. She and Zach decided to ignore my instructions. Tess argued that it was her horse when I found out about it during a phone call back here.”

  “During practice just several days prior to the competition, Zach and Tess were exercising Derringer and attempting the levade, that’s an air move where the horse—“

  “I know what the levade is, Trey,” I reminded him.

  “Sorry,” he smiled, “At any rate, due to the muscle problem with Derringers rear flank, he did not land properly; somehow Zach was thrown. When Tess attempted to rein Derringer in, his front leg came down on her, briefly pinning her to the ground.”

  My eyes widened in horror, picturing how this might have taken place. Trey struggled to get the rest of the story out.

  �
�Tess was rushed to the hospital. I was called immediately and I flew in from Cambridge. Tess had been careflighted to a hospital in Nashville. Her pelvis had been shattered. Zach was at her side when I arrived.” I could see Trey’s composure falter as he revealed this part of the story.

  “Trey, you don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” I said gently.

  “No,” he said, his eyes dark with anger or sorrow, I couldn’t tell which, “You need to know this part as well. Tess was pregnant; the injury of course caused her to miscarry. The crushed pelvis could not be repaired to the point that she would have the ability to bear children in the future. I loved her; I mourned for the child that we had lost though she hadn’t shared the fact that she was pregnant with me. It didn’t matter to me if we couldn’t have children in the future; all that mattered to me was her.”

  “Tess was angry with the situation. She ordered me to destroy Derringer. I refused to destroy a perfectly fine horse over something that could have been avoided. I knew in time she would come to understand that being the person that she was.”

  His eyes dropped downward; he raked a hand through his hair carelessly. When he looked back up, I could see his eyes were misty. Seeing his pain tore my heart in two.

  “As it turned out, I guess I never really knew the person that she was. The baby she miscarried wasn’t mine. It was Zach’s.”

  “Oh, Trey,” I said, reaching over to him. I wanted to comfort him in some way. I didn’t know how.

  “She told me that she was in love with Zach; that they wanted to be together. She told me that she had never really loved me.”

  “Why did Landon say what he said earlier, about our baby having the chance his sister’s didn’t?”

  "Because I never told anyone the truth, apart from you just now. Until now, only Tess, Zach and I knew the truth. I felt like she had been through enough. I didn't want her

  reputation crushed as well. It caused a rift between my family and me for several years; it’s only been recently that the Andrews’ have come around again. Tess let everyone believe that she broke the engagement because I wouldn’t put Derringer down. I’ve never told them any different.”

  “But Trey, that’s not fair to you,” I said, sitting up and leaning over towards him. “Why would you want people to believe things about you that aren’t true? She was going to end that engagement regardless of what happened to Derringer.”

  He smiled, pulling me down to him, stroking my hair with his hand.

  “Because it doesn’t change anything,” he said, softly. “I needed to let her walk away with something. Tess was and still is a very fragile person.”

  He lowered his face to mine, softly kissing my lips. I knew in that instant that I disliked the bitch. I disliked anyone who would hurt Trey the way that she had.

  Just then, there was a light knock on the bedroom door. Trey jumped up and went over to it, opening it to allow his parents in. Oh crap, I thought. I bet Trey and I had some ‘splaining to do.

  Susan was at my side immediately.

  “How are you feeling, darling,” she asked in her sweet southern accent. “You gave us a bit of a scare down there.” She put her hand on my forehead as if checking to see if I had a fever.

  “I’m feeling much better, Mrs. Sinclair, thank you,” I replied warmly.

  “Now there is none of the ‘Mrs. Sinclair’ do you hear? You call me Susan like everyone else does."

  I nodded, smiling back at her. I noticed Clive talking to Trey in hushed tones. Trey was leaning back against the door, one leg propped back against it. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. I marveled at how sexy he looked no matter what he was doing. I flushed when I realized that Susan was watching me watch her son.

  “Can I get you anything, darling?” she asked, sweetly. (Just some more alone time with Trey!)

  My hormones were misbehaving again.

  “No, I’m fine for now, really,” I assured her.

  “Ok then,” she said, patting my leg. “We want you to get some rest and take care of that baby.”

  Oh God, I could tell she was happy about this. Better that than pissed I suppose.

  Clive looked over having finished his conversation with Trey and bid me a good night, telling me to let the staff know if I needed anything. I wished him a good night as well.

  Trey got back on the bed taking his place beside me looking a bit sheepish.

  “What?” I asked, “Are you grounded?”

  He chuckled softly, giving me a glimpse of that sexy dimple. It was so much better to see him like this then the way he was just moments ago.

  “Your father looked kind of serious when he was talking to you just now.”

  “Father says that I should move to another room to ensure you get restful sleep,” he said, mimicking his father’s British accent nicely.

  My hormones were screaming ‘hell no, you don’t go’ in unison. He saw the alarm on my face and gave me a dimpled grin.

  “Don’t worry, I told him that you called those shots, not me.”

  He snuggled back against the pillows, pulling me close to him. He was playing with a lock of my hair.

  “Oh, thank you very much Trey,” I said, feigning anger. “Now he is going to think I seduced you.”

  “I can set him straight you know. There’s always the video, Tylar,” he said, laughing.

  “Oh my God!” I fairly shrieked. “You are deplorable!” I was laughing too. He was playful again and since that seemed to be a rarity, I was thoroughly enjoying his humor.

  It was true enough. Every time he turned around I was practically humping his leg. Speaking of which, I was

  feeling much, much better. My hand reached over, tugging at the waistband of his cords. His hand was right there, playfully smacking mine away.

  “No you don’t,” he warned, trying to look authoritative. “We’ve played enough today. I agree with my father on this one. You need your rest. I’m going to help you get ready for bed and tuck you in personally, how’s that?”

  I pouted not answering him at all.

  “You can pout all you want, tonight is hands off for both of us,” he replied, taking my nylons off carefully.

  He raised my arms up so that he could pull my dress up over my head, but I kept putting them back down. He was getting genuinely irritated with me.

  “Tylar,” he admonished frowning, “Work with me here.”

  “How about we make a deal?” I offered, “I will get my nightgown on, brush my teeth and climb into bed, if you will get naked and climb in right beside me?”

  I saw a flicker of amusement cross his face. My hormones were jumping up and down, whining ‘please, please, please’?

  “I’m not making any deals with you,” he said firmly, finally able to pin my arms up and yank the dress up over my head.

  I was left in my bra and panties. I caught him glancing at my overflowing cups, so I made a point of rubbing my breasts in front of him. He turned away quickly, heading for his closet. He was rummaging around in my suitcase. I could hear him mumbling about something.

  “Did you only bring short silk nighties?”

  “Yes, are you complaining?”

  “It is fall, Tylar,” he reminded me from the closet.

  He returned with one of his long sleeved dress shirts that would be longer on me than any of the nighties I brought.

  “Here,” he said, offering me the shirt, “Put this on please?”

  I hesitated, finally taking it from him. I only liked the shirts that he had worn and not laundered yet. This was a clean one. It didn’t smell like Trey.

  “I can’t wear this,” I replied, tossing it carelessly back at him.

  He caught it with his hand, not taking his eyes off of me. He wore a very confused expression.

  “Why the hell not? You’ve worn my shirts to bed before as I recall.”

  “Yes,” I admitted impatiently, “But that was a dirty shirt. I don’t want to wear a clean shirt.”

>   “What?” he looked at me as if I were daft.

  “I want a shirt that has your smell on it,” I explained. “I won’t wear that one.”

  Trey looked at me incredulously, finally getting the picture.

  “Christ,” he growled in a not-really-mad tone as he pulled his sweater off. He unbuttoned his oxford shirt, took it off and handed it to me.

  “Here, is this one stinky enough for you?”

  I held it to my face; it smelled of Trey which was a very pleasant scent to me.

  “Umm, just right,” I said, breathing in his scent and smiling. “And you don’t stink by the way. You have a very sensual scent.”

  I turned presenting my back to him so that he could unhook my bra. He did, releasing it from me. He slid his hands around me, cupping my breasts and massaging them with his fingers.

  (Ummm that feels so good…)

  He was pressed up to me and I could feel his erection on my backside. I was on my knees on the bed; he was standing next to it. I turned to face him, letting my hand drop down to his crotch area, feeling the bulge underneath the corduroy trousers.

  My hands rubbed his chest and shoulders; he leaned down, pulling me up to kiss, our lips and tongues in sync with our budding passion. I moaned against him, wanting once more to feel him inside of me. He pulled away, gently.

  "Tylar baby, come on. You need your rest. My

  parents are probably right outside the door listening to make sure I keep good on my promise to see that you have restful

  sleep.”

  I got a horrified look on my face, thinking that Trey was serious for a moment. He laughed, putting his shirt around me, holding it open so that my arms could find the sleeves. He then buttoned it up, leaving the top three buttons undone for his own perusal.

  He pulled the bed covers down, ordering me under them. I obeyed this time, watching as he carefully tucked the covers around me like a papoose. He was bound and determined there would be no touching tonight. I had other plans. He left the room to take his shower. I figured it was going to be a cold one. Those didn’t work for me.