New Year's Baby (Harlequin Heartwarming)

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New Year's Baby (Harlequin Heartwarming) Page 20

by Jodi O'Donnell


  “What are you trying to say, Cade?” Sara asked softly.

  He couldn’t bring himself to answer her for a moment. But he had to be scrupulously honest with her, if they were to have a chance in that ever so uncertain future.

  “I’ve never been much of a hand when it came to women or relationships, you know that,” he said. “So I just gave up long ago thinkin’ that kind of happiness was to be mine.”

  He didn’t take a breath but plunged on while he still had the nerve to be completely honest with her. “The thing is, Sara, you have had happiness, so much that you totally wiped a man from your heart and mind to keep from contemplating a life without him.”

  He hesitated over the last part, but he couldn’t stop now. He had to say it or he’d never feel himself a man of character. “I don’t know that I have what it takes to fill the hole he left in your heart, that’s all. And I know I won’t be satisfied being the man you don’t need to forget.”

  He turned his head momentarily, jaw working with the strength of his emotions. He had never felt so helpless, vulnerable or exposed in all his natural-born life.

  With the last bit of his courage, he looked at Sara, her eyes filled with tears again. Then she was shaking her head and fumbling for his wrist to press her lips to his palm, press his palm to her cheek.

  “No! No, Cade. How can you say that? How can you even think it?” She grabbed his other hand and brought it to her lips to kiss it, over and over again. “Oh, these strong, capable, tender hands that first held my baby and gave him life!”

  She gave a sob, then went on fiercely, “You do have what it takes within you, you always have, right here.” She laid her hand over his heart. “And you’re right, I never will forget you. I couldn’t—because you are and always will be right here.”

  Never taking his eyes from hers, she took the hand against her cheek and placed it upon her own heart.

  She had given him a gift, Cade realized. One different from the gift she claimed he had given her, but he didn’t doubt the same life-changing impact it would have upon him.

  He wanted her to remember his kiss. Wanted, he realized in a rush, to brand another memory into her mind, that of the two of them, like this, so that if or when she rediscovered her past and remembered her husband, this experience would be there, too, for whatever it was worth.

  He couldn’t stop himself from wanting to share this one last moment with her. And then he’d go.

  Cade cradled the sweet mound of her belly, remembering how he’d touched her so when she’d been pregnant.

  Someday, he thought fervently. Someday our own child might grow here within her.

  Such a day, however, might never come. Yet it didn’t matter. That didn’t stop him from wanting to give her this moment. Even if that someday never came, the pain then would be worth it, because of the joy in this moment.

  He kissed her one last time. He’d never known anything like it, and it was like a gift to him, perfect and whole.

  She didn’t open her eyes, but stood with the pale morning light upon her face, at peace for now. And he knew it for sure then, in all its bittersweetness.

  The joy now was worth the pain later.

  * * *

  HE LEFT THEM both sleeping, Sara and the baby. The morning wind coming off the plains was frigid as he’d ever felt it as he let down the back of the stock trailer and loaded Destiny onboard. Thankfully he was headed south, into relatively warmer temperatures. Once he finished the cutting show in Austin, he planned to head across to a stock show in Houston. He’d been too late to register for it, but he could do some networking. The crowd there would be exactly the people who’d be apt to hire him to train their horses.

  The cab of the pickup warmed up quickly once he got on the road. Even with the defrost on full blast, though, the windows fogged over. That’d have to change. With the trailer on the back, he had only the use of his side mirrors to see behind him. The window on his side he could clear with the swipe of his sleeve, but the passenger side was a bit of a stretch.

  Cade was reaching for a bandanna in the side pocket of his duffel laying next to him on the seat when his fingers met with something unfamiliar. Puzzled, he pulled out a large brown envelope. Steering with his left hand, he flicked on the dome light and set the envelope on his thigh to open its clasp.

  He decided he’d better pull over, once he saw what was inside.

  Motor still running, the dually chugged in the thin cold air as with stiff fingers, Cade slid a pale gold brochure from a rubber-banded stack of them and held it up to the light. There on the front were the words in bold, no-nonsense letters, just as he’d seen them in his mind: Cade McGivern, horse trainer.

  And underneath was what he hadn’t seen in his mind but that struck the perfect note: a photo of him and Destiny in the corral that had been taken who-knew-when. It showed him and the gelding in action, Destiny’s head held high and his conformation perfect. He didn’t look too bad himself, Cade realized, relaxed and assured in the saddle.

  Sara must have stayed up all night putting this together! He couldn’t imagine it had been easy for her, given she had just started getting familiar with her computer and remembering her skills.

  Eagerly, he opened the brochure. All the information needed was there in short, concise bullets. There was even a short bio on him that Loren had to have helped her with.

  But it was the quote on the facing side that stopped Cade in his tracks.

  “With horses,” it read, “you don’t make anything happen. Training a horse is more about letting him deal with the choices he’s been given, making him feel he’s the one in control. Fix it up for him and let him find it by making the wrong thing difficult to do, and the right thing easy. And you make sure you feel it yourself, all the way through your body on down to your toes, letting go yourself and just thinking and feeling the movement as it comes.”

  His name followed as the author of such reasoning.

  Cade sat for a long time before rousing himself. When he did, it was to cast a glance, now misted of its own accord, into his side mirror and down the road he’d just come. If she had wanted to capture the very sum and substance of him and what he believed in, she couldn’t have done it better. Or touched him as greatly.

  In that moment, Cade never loved a person on earth more than he loved Sara. It took every bit of his willpower not to crank the wheel of the dually and head back to the ranch.

  But they were doing the right thing here. Maybe that was what Sara was trying to tell him with this brochure—that, and how much faith she had in him and in them, and in destiny. What would be would be, and it would all turn out for the good of everyone.

  He wasn’t one to predict the future, but Cade knew then that holding on to that one thought would be the only thing to get him through the next several weeks.

  He only hoped it wouldn’t have to be for years.

  Chapter Eleven

  CADE LIFTED THE saddle off of Destiny’s back and set it on the rack provided in the stall he’d been assigned to on the back of the arena at the Fort Worth Stockyards. Steam rose from the saddle blanket, throwing off the pungent smell of horse sweat and oiled leather that Cade found not at all unpleasant. That could have been because he was steeped in both odors himself. Or that he was on a natural high, he and Destiny having just taken first in the calf roping competition. In any case, he’d wash Destiny down, water him and set him up with a ration of feed before seeing to his own washing up, followed by his usual celebratory steak and biscuits.

  Such was the life of a horseman.

  He had been away from the ranch for six long weeks. Six weeks of living out of motels, or bunking at friends’ homes. Six weeks of stock and cutting shows, even taking in the odd rodeo, where he and Destiny would compete in the calf roping, and as today like as not end up in the
money. Six weeks of talking to folks about their training problems, about technique and method, and of course about that favorite subject of horses in general, on which Cade discovered he had a lot to say.

  So apparently did other people. He’d signed up four clients, had lines on another six, and hadn’t felt so encouraged and purposeful in years.

  Yup, he was making things happen, was sure enough in charge of his life and his future. And he was lonely.

  He phoned Loren about once a fortnight, and his brother was charitable enough to keep Cade up to date on what was going on with Sara and the baby. Baby Cade was growing like a weed, Loren told him, smart as a whip and with such a sunny disposition you were hard-pressed to leave the house for fear of missing him doing something cute and have to satisfy yourself with merely hearing about it that evening at the supper table.

  Come to think of it, Cade reflected, there wasn’t anything in the least charitable about Loren.

  The conversation inevitably ended with a one-sided discussion about Sara’s progress. She’d started seeing a therapist in Amarillo once a week, with hopes of getting to the root of her amnesia. So far, Loren said, she still didn’t know what had made her lose her memory—or what was holding her up from remembering.

  So was this self-imposed exile from each other just another exercise in futility? Cade wondered, leading Destiny to the washing area. He couldn’t go back to the ranch, however, firstly because he really did believe his presence kept her from remembering. And secondly, he didn’t know how he could go back—for his own good. What if, instead of Sara remembering without it affecting her feelings for him, he one day looked into her eyes and realized he was only someone she used to love?

  The mere thought of that happening wasn’t to be borne. No, he was better off going on with his life. He was done with waiting for happiness to find him.

  “Cade! Cade McGivern!”

  Cade turned to see a short, barrel-chested man in jeans and a buff-colored suede sport coat hurrying to catch up with him.

  “Hey there, Dick. Been awhile, hasn’t it?”

  He stuck out his free hand, and Dick Olin took it, pumping his arm enthusiastically.

  “Talk about a phoenix rising from the ashes!” the older man said. “I don’t think I’ve seen hide nor hair of you since you took over runnin’ your granddad’s cow-calf operation.”

  “And you know how that goes,” Cade returned amiably. “Always somethin’ to get done or to worry about not getting done.”

  “I don’t get out much these days myself. Hip replacement last March, and afore that had a pacemaker put in.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re slowin’ down,” Cade said with a lift of his eyebrows.

  “No way.” Dick fell into step beside him. “You know me. I’ve always had a finger in just about every pie in the Panhandle. Diversifyin’ is what they’ve taken to calling it these days. Creatin’ your own luck, is the label I’ve always pinned on it.”

  “I see we’re of a mind on that one, Dick,” Cade said on a laugh.

  “That’s for sure. I’ve been gettin’ all kinds of good news about you lately. In fact, your brother called me couple of weeks ago.”

  “Loren?” Cade asked, surprised.

  “Yup.” Dick beamed at him. “Braggin’ you up and down, he was, about how you’d been running the ranch and what a skilled horse trainer you were shaping up into.”

  Cade couldn’t speak, touched as he was by his brother’s support. He hadn’t known how much he missed it these past weeks.

  “So Loren’s back working the ranch, and married with a little one on the way, is he?” Dick blithely went on.

  “Yes, and looking forward to both. He’s always been the real rancher in the family, to tell the truth.” He gave a private nod. “It’ll be a good life for them all. His wife’s trained as a nurse, and I believe she’s looking to continue that kind of work after the baby is born.”

  “Loren said his wife’s cousin was staying there, too. Sara Childress, I believe her name was?”

  Cade’s heart broke its rhythm. “It is.” Then out of the blue, something made him ask, “She’s trying to start up business as a graphic designer. Do you need one?”

  Dick scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Frankly, I don’t know if I’d have a use for a graphic designer or not, since I’m not sure what someone like that could do for me.”

  “Actually, I’ve got somethin’ here Sara worked up for me that might give you an idea, at least, of what she can do.”

  Stopping, Cade pulled one of his gold horse training brochures from the inside pocket of his coat and handed it to Dick.

  He in turn removed his reading glasses from his jacket pocket and peered at Sara’s brochure for a long moment as Cade waited anxiously. What an opportunity for Sara if she could get on doing work for Dick! He was probably one of the most successful businessmen in the Panhandle, with, as he’d said, any number of interests that Sara would be able to help with.

  Finally, Dick glanced up at him. “Well, I haveta say, she sure makes you sound like one talented horse trainer.”

  “That’d mean she’s pretty good, wouldn’t it?” Cade said with a grin of relief.

  Dick laughed. “Guess I better give the gal a call and find out what she can do for me.”

  Ruminatively, he scored the edge of the brochure with his fingernail. “Speakin’ of horse training, though...I’ve always kept a bunch of horses on that operation of mine south of Amarillo, and I haven’t had much luck finding a man with a good eye and a way with horses to help me decide which to train up and how. You think you could help me out there?”

  Cade’s spirits soared. If he proved himself to be competent with Dick’s horses, the businessman wouldn’t be shy about spreading the word. He’d send more business Cade’s way than he could whip up in a year of networking.

  “Why thanks, Dick,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting such an opportunity when I showed you that brochure, but I’ll sure take it.” He sidestepped himself and Destiny out of the way of another horse trying to get past. “I’ll be up that way next week, in fact.”

  “Give me a call then, when you get to town,” Dick said. He gave Cade a broad wink. “See what I mean ’bout creatin’ your own luck? Cain’t very well be in the right place at the right time sittin’ at home.”

  After Dick left, Cade stood in the middle of the aisle as people streamed past him like the river’s flow around a crag jutting out of its bed. The man had a point. Who knew whether Cade would have ever stumbled into this golden opportunity if he hadn’t taken that first step of leaving the ranch to follow his destiny?

  Of course, he wouldn’t have left at all if destiny hadn’t already found him in the form of Sara and her baby.

  Life sure enough did seem to be a subtle mix of fate and free will, although it was difficult sometimes to tell which was which.

  But what could be the harm in trying? Cade wondered.

  * * *

  JUGGLING HER PORTFOLIO under her arm, Sara tugged futilely at the motel restaurant door. The blustery March wind swirled debris and an assortment of candy wrappers around her ankles and upward. Just what she needed, to go into her best opportunity in two months with bits and pieces of last fall’s leaves sticking to her new outfit, and her hair in a stir.

  She gave a huff, ready to put her back into giving the door a good yank, when above the handle in bold black letters she read Push.

  The signs definitely didn’t bode well for her.

  Not that she was too terribly worried about her meeting. From what she gathered, the gentleman already liked what he’d seen of her work from the samples she’d sent him, and settling the terms was just a formality. But she’d learned the hard way never to take anything for granted, because there was always a chance, however slim, of the unanticipated
happening. Always.

  In any case, she got a booth and ordered a cup of coffee, prepared for a wait and glad she’d have some time to compose herself. Her weekly appointment with her therapist had ended early, making her a good hour before her meeting time.

  Bending, Sara shook out the hem of her ankle-length broomstick skirt before straightening and brushing at the imaginary specks of dust on her bolero-style jacket. The outfit had been an indulgence, to be sure. The jacket was navy wool with gold buttons, the pattern in the skirt a mixture of every shade of blue and then some. She thought it made her look both professional and feminine, and she’d simply needed the boost it gave her to look like a woman again and not so much a mother.

  When her coffee came, Sara gulped down half the cup, hoping the caffeine would kick in soon. The therapy sessions always left her drained. Her counselor seemed to think they were making progress, but rather than feeling she was getting closer to discovering her lost memory, Sara had the distinct sensation of moving farther and farther away from that happening, no matter how hard she tried to move toward it. And she’d done everything her counselor suggested: at home, she’d surrounded herself with images of Greg, thinking that would spark at least a glimmer of her past. She and her cousin talked about him, as much as Sarah Ann knew of Greg. Loren had even driven her back to Oklahoma City for a few days, where she visited hers and Greg’s old house, talked to friends and business acquaintances who knew him. It had helped to learn how devoted they’d been to each other.

  Yet while there was nothing, as there hadn’t been regarding Loren, to raise a red flag in her mind, neither was there much that struck a chord in her. Even with Baby Cade, who certainly presented her with the strongest image of Greg, she got not even the least flicker of a memory.

  No, rather than arousing memories of his father in her, Baby Cade was a constant reminder of the man he was named after. When she looked at her son, she inevitably saw Cade...Cade cradling him for the first time in those strong hands of his...singing to him as he howled like a siren...holding the baby before him and begging the infant not to forget him....

 

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