His Pregnant Texas Sweetheart (Peach Leaf, Texas)

by Amy Woods

  Ryan straightened his shirt and knocked on the thick oak door a few times, as the small pebble of nervousness inside him began to gather weight, threatening to grow into full-blown anxiety, just as June flung open the door, sticking out a foot to prevent a ball of fur from streaking through the crack.

  “He’s a bit of an escape artist if we let him out front,” she said, catching Harold and scooping him up, all the while still holding the door open with one foot. She deposited the grumpy feline back into the house, wiping her hands on her jeans before holding out an arm to welcome Ryan inside.

  “Morning,” she said, closing the door behind her. “Can I get you some coffee for the road? Decaf only, I’m afraid.”

  Ryan heard June’s offer of the hot beverage, but only just, his eyes focusing on Katie as she stepped from the narrow hallway into her living room, pulling a small suitcase behind her. She set a bundle of blankets and a pillow on top of the bag and looked up, her incredible dark eyes latching straight on to Ryan’s, her lips spreading into a welcoming smile. She wore faded jeans, the knees worn to a lighter shade than the rest of the denim, and a long-sleeved orange shirt. Its sunset shade lent a glow to her skin, the color so close to that of milky caramel that Ryan wanted to taste her to see if she would be as sweet. And her long, dark waves were pulled to one side in a braid that fell just below her collarbone, loose pieces tickling her heart-shaped face.

  Ryan wasn’t sure if it was residual emotion from seeing his unwell mother or leftover stress seeking release after spending so much more time than he’d like with his father, but something broke loose inside him, and he rushed forward to his old friend, folding her into his body in a hug before he had a chance to think about his actions.

  Something his mother once said crossed his mind. Sometimes the heart knows what it wants before the head catches up. Or some such silly thing. All he knew then was that Katie’s hair still smelled like the lavender shampoo she’d always used when they were younger, and her figure fit perfectly against his, and her warm skin...

  She pulled away suddenly, staring up into his face, her hazelnut-colored eyes full of surprise and concern, and something slightly more intense.

  “Ryan? Are you okay?”

  She shoved her hands into her pockets and gave a little uneasy laugh, and he was instantly self-conscious as he looked up in time to see June scurrying into the kitchen, leaving him alone with Katie. Thankfully, she let it go and the moment passed as she studied his expression briefly before turning to grab her suitcase again.

  Armor, he couldn’t help thinking. Against me.

  He deserved her reaction. It was the cost of leaving her without a word.

  Despite Katie’s sunny personality, her resistance to letting life damage her optimism...he’d seen it in her eyes...he’d hurt her deeply that day and she hadn’t forgiven him.

  She must have sensed his discomfort with the moment of open affection because she filled the room with chatter and busied herself by getting two water bottles to go. She handed one to Ryan and he took it, picking up her suitcase with his free hand while Katie grabbed her bedding, looking way too cute as she held the giant wad of fluff against her chest.

  “Let’s hit the road,” she said, excitement and apprehension battling in her features before she wandered out to his truck.

  Ryan waved at June before following Katie out the door, hoping he’d find a way to act normal again somewhere in the twenty miles between Peach Leaf and the campground.

  Chapter Six

  Once they had settled into Ryan’s truck and pulled out of the driveway, Katie cleared her throat, hoping the action would also shove away some of her nervousness.

  “Hey, Ryan?” she asked, biting her lip. She looked down at her lap, hesitant to meet his eyes. Even though she hadn’t given it much thought until June pointed it out, she had in fact noticed the wariness in his features each time the subject of children came up.

  “There’s somebody that we need to pick up on the way,” she said, looking out the passenger window, noticing the fall decorations her neighbors set up the very second a whisper of cool air arrived to chase away the heavy summer heat. She admired a trio of pumpkins, each one resting above the other on stair steps, and a pair of friendly looking scarecrows hanging out on a porch swing, their jeans and plaid shirts stuffed with straw.

  When she glanced over at Ryan, she saw his jaw flinch the tiniest bit, but other than that motion, which was so small Katie might have imagined it, he didn’t give any indication of what he thought about her request.

  “Not a problem,” he said, tossing a smile across the bench seat, causing her heart to melt like the caramel she and June would use to dip apples for their annual Halloween party in a few weeks. “Mind if I ask who?”

  Katie smiled to herself. “A little girl named Shelby. She’s one of my grandma’s children’s home kiddos.”

  Ryan nodded and his eyes went soft. “Just point me in the right direction.”

  She let out a puff of air, grateful he wasn’t annoyed at having to do yet another favor for her. He might look slightly different—slightly sexier, if she was honest—and the tension between them might be thick enough to skate on, but every moment she spent with him, she realized more and more that he was still Ryan Ford. Still a kind man with a heart of gold, evident to everyone, especially Katie, despite the effort he exerted to guard it from the world.

  She gave him directions to the small building that served as a children’s home on the north side of town and he followed them without a word, probably still feeling a little awkward about that impulsive hug back at the house.

  That made two of them.

  When they pulled up, she saw Ryan glance at the sign out front, indicating the organization that financed the home, and his brows knit together; she couldn’t see what went on behind the sunglasses he’d donned along the way.

  At least the limestone structure was a little cheerier than usual, with a few fall-themed stickers peeking out from the first-floor window glass, and a red-and-gold-leaf wreath hung from the front door.

  “This is it,” she said, unbuckling her seat belt. Before she’d even picked up her purse from the floor, Ryan rushed out of the driver’s seat and appeared outside her door, opening it and extending a hand.

  “It’s not that far to the ground,” she said, grinning, but he didn’t crack a smile. She’d always picked on him for his impeccable Southern manners when they were kids, but she secretly loved them, all the more for the fact that he never made excuses for the way he was raised—he was a gentleman down to his core, a rare breed—and she saw now that nothing would ever change that about him. She made a note to stop teasing him about it...she didn’t want to be responsible for stamping out that wonderful part of his charm.

  With less reluctance than she would have liked, Katie took his offered hand, the contact of their skin creating a powerful current like the air before lightning strikes. She inhaled sharply as he helped her to the ground, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “Thanks,” she said, looking up at him as her feet touched pavement. He nodded, still holding her hand. She thought he might let go...was inordinately pleased when he didn’t. As they walked to the front door, linked by flesh, a thousand tiny sparks flickered through her body. It was with great reluctance that she broke the bond as they arrived at the top step and she reached out to ring the bell. Ryan didn’t ask any questions, just stood at her side, his presence at once both calming and unnerving.

  What had happened between them since their dinner together the other evening? What was that hug about earlier that morning?

  A tinge of agitation interrupted her growing awareness of the mutual attraction she couldn’t deny still existed. She could feel it emanating from him almost as clearly as it danced underneath her own skin. But if Ryan thought he could just be sweet to her, do her a favor, drive her crazy by holding her hand and all would be forgiven, he was dead wrong.

  She didn’t have time to entertain th
e thought because the door opened wide and there was Ava Bloom, cheeks rosy and welcoming, silver chignon slightly askew, as the smell of apple pie baking wafted out of the doorway and blended with the crisp autumn air.

  “Hi, Grandma,” Katie said, stepping into the older woman’s open arms.

  Katie’s grandmother had worked as a cook at the Peach Leaf Home for Children since before her granddaughter was born, and she didn’t show signs of slowing down any time soon. Most people were uncomfortable at such a place, but her grandma and the other staff put their hearts and hands into making the foster-care facility as warm as the best real home until the kids found families, or, as her grandma always put it, until parents came to find their precious gifts.

  Ava waved an arm at Ryan and he quickly obeyed, taking Katie’s place in her embrace. “Well, I can barely believe my eyes,” she said, squeezing him to pieces. “Ryan Ford.”

  She looked over his shoulder and opened her eyes wide at Katie, who just rolled her own.

  The two exchanged pleasantries as Katie meandered into the kitchen, disappointed that the only pies available were still in the oven. She’d skipped breakfast that morning due to running late, and the rich smell of cinnamon, warm apples and flaky crust made her crazy.

  “You leave those pies alone, kiddo,” her grandmother said, her voice carrying down the hall. “They’re not ready. And, more importantly, they’re not for you.”

  She laughed to herself and peeled her eyes away from the oven. “Come on, now, I’m not that bad. I wouldn’t eat the kids’ pies,” she said, unable to keep a straight face.

  Ava and Ryan joined her a moment later, and Katie noticed that Ryan’s cheeks held more color than before. He looked almost comfortable for the first time since they’d run into each other at the pub.

  A surge of embarrassment rushed through her. Surely they hadn’t been talking about her. Katie’s grandma was a wonderful woman, but she wasn’t known for keeping mum, and she, like Katie’s mom, had always wanted her and Ryan to be together.

  “Don’t you tell me that, girl,” the older woman said, turning to Ryan. “I’ve never known someone who loves apple pie as much as this one. I used to let her eat it for all three meals when she’d stay the weekend with me,” she said, laughing as she threw an arm over Ryan’s shoulder. “And she never once tired of the stuff. If a person could live off apple pie—” she pointed a thumb in Katie’s direction “—this one would. Especially now that she’s eating for two.”

  “All right, Grandma,” Katie said. “Thanks so much for that.”

  Katie watched as her grandmother’s expression became serious, the lines around her mouth and eyes straightening as she put aside her normal cheer. “You’re here to pick up Shelby?”

  “Yes,” Katie said. “Remember we talked about it on the phone last week and the director gave permission for her to come on this trip?”

  Worry spiked in her grandmother’s concerned features, but she didn’t speak.

  “Don’t tell me she changed her mind.”

  Ava’s expression relaxed slightly, and she brushed a strand of tinsel-like hair away from her face. “It’s not that at all, dear, don’t worry,” she said, but her voice didn’t portray the kind of comfort Katie imagined she’d intended.

  “What is it, then?”

  “Well—” Katie’s grandmother clasped her hands in front of her dress “—it’s just that our Shelby’s had a hard week.” She made a fuss of heading over to the oven to check on the baking pastries and Katie could see that she was uneasy about something. Ava nodded and stepped away from the oven, laying a hand on the kitchen’s long, stainless-steel counter. “Would you two like some tea?”

  “No, ma’am, but thank you,” Ryan said, and Katie echoed.

  “All right, then. As I was saying, things have been tough for that little girl this week.”

  She fumbled with a pair of reading glasses that hung from a beaded string around the tissue-paper-thin skin of her neck, and Katie noticed that she looked a little tired—a word she wouldn’t normally choose to describe her endlessly energetic grandmother, a woman who had immigrated from Germany to Peach Leaf with her family as a child and who believed that pride in hard work and the love of family were the only necessities to a satisfying, happy life.

  “What happened, Grandma?”

  Katie reached out to take Ava’s soft hand, squeezing it gently to encourage her to go on. The nature of a children’s home meant that sometimes unpleasant things happened...sometimes the kids came from terrible backgrounds and required patience and space to breathe before they were able to heal enough to accept the love of a new family. Other times, they were disappointed when prospective parents came and went without taking them home.

  It was one of the reasons Katie’s grandmother continued working there well past retirement age; she’d raised three happy kids of her own and then determined that she had plenty of love for more. But love wasn’t always enough to make up for the really hard days...for the times when a child’s heart was broken once more in an already difficult young life.

  Ava took a deep breath. “Another family came this week and, well, it didn’t work out.”

  Katie looked at Ryan and saw him swallow deeply as he peered down at his shoes. She made a note to stop being selfish and ask him about his child later that day when they had a moment alone.

  Something was bothering him and he deserved her attention if he was hurting. They might not be best friends anymore, but he was part of her life, whether she wanted him to be or not, and she cared for him, even if the feeling wasn’t returned.

  “I’m really sorry to hear that, Mrs. Bloom,” Ryan said, his voice low and soothing. He seemed unsure what to do with his hands and finally stuffed them into his pockets, tossing a nervous glance at Katie. There was that look again—a sorrowful shadow, as if an old injury had flared up again.

  Katie had spent time with Shelby before and truly enjoyed the sweet, shy child’s company. The little girl didn’t make friends easily, and when Katie came by to visit her grandmother on occasion and Shelby was around, it took time for her to warm up enough to speak. Eventually, the two had become friends, and Katie had come to realize that any couple would be lucky to take home such an introspective, intelligent little person. She would be incredibly proud if her own child turned out to be similar. But she supposed visiting families didn’t always see the girl that way; possibly her quiet, sensitive nature made them nervous that they might not be up to the task of winning the girl’s soft heart.

  Shelby had lived at the foster home for almost a year now, and each time Katie came to visit, she was torn between wanting to see her small friend and wanting to find that she’d gone to a forever home.

  “Is there anything special we can do, Grandma? To cheer her up?” Katie asked. It had taken a while to convince Shelby to go for the Pumpkin Festival weekend anyway—she was understandably wary of spending two full days surrounded by strangers, even if there would be many other girls her own age—and Katie worried that she might have changed her mind altogether in light of the hard week she’d had.

  Katie’s grandma took off her red-framed lenses and rubbed the little indented spots on the sides of her nose where the bridge of the glasses had rested.

  “I think she’ll be okay—” She hesitated. “Actually, I hate to say it, but the day when the child isn’t sad about such a thing will be the day I start to worry.”

  Katie nodded, wishing, not for the first time, that she could take Shelby home herself.

  “Just keep her close, give her a little TLC and some extra attention, and let her know you care about her, that she has friends.”

  “We can do that,” Ryan said with confidence, perking up for the first time since hearing the news.

  Leave it to Ryan Ford to be invested in a little girl he hadn’t even met yet.

  The idea wasn’t crazy; after all, it was exactly how she felt about her own unborn baby...and didn’t all children deserve that ki
nd of care?

  Katie’s grandmother smiled and a timer buzzed, interrupting the moment. The older woman began pulling pies out of the oven, and Katie and Ryan pitched in to help.

  The three of them spent a few more moments catching up. Katie explained what was going on with the museum, much to her grandmother’s worry, and received assurance that work could be found at the children’s home if Katie wasn’t able to find anything else.

  Ryan was quiet as they spoke about the museum, but Katie noticed the return of his earlier uneasiness, and she wondered again what might be bothering her old friend.

  “Well, there she is!”

  Ava’s voice broke Katie’s thoughts and she turned to see a small child with wispy blonde curls, periwinkle eyes and lovely, almost translucent skin enter the kitchen, followed closely by Linda, a smiling, motherly caretaker.

  “Go say hi, honey,” Linda urged gently.

  Shelby’s face lit up when she saw Katie, her fairy-like features and shining eyes coming to life as she ran toward her older friend.

  “Well, hi there, sweetheart,” Katie said, wrapping her arms around the child’s tiny body and breathing in the strawberry scent of shampoo as she tucked her face into Shelby’s soft curls. Katie picked up the six-year-old and swung her around, causing the musical sound of laughter to fill the room before putting her back down.

  “Hi, Miss Katie,” Shelby said, becoming suddenly shy when she caught sight of Ryan standing in the kitchen.

  “Shelby,” Katie said, holding the little girl’s hand, “this is my friend Ryan.” She gave Shelby’s little hand a soft squeeze, trying her best to communicate that Ryan was someone safe, someone she could trust. “Can you say hello?”