The Texas Cowboy's Baby Rescue

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “I can see why.” He uncapped a thermos of hot coffee. “It’s a great place for a picnic.”

  “Especially on a day like today.” When they had so much to celebrate, so much at risk...

  They lingered over their meal, talking about matters big and small. Finally, Cullen said, “Want to take a selfie, for Robby’s baby book?”

  Not too long ago, he’d been warning her against getting prematurely attached. Now—to the immense surprise of both of them—his heart was in play, too.

  Bridgett smiled. “Why not? I definitely want to remember this.”

  Bridgett set Riot on her lap. Cullen turned sideways, so they could see the profile of Robby in his BabyBjorn, sleeping with his head resting on Cullen’s chest. They put their heads together, and with his arm outstretched, he took the picture with his phone.

  “One more...”

  They grinned. Riot—impatient now—let out a happy bark.

  Together, they walked the area around the pavilion, found a field of bluebonnets, and—like every other young family in Texas that time of year—took another couple of selfies against a backdrop of wildflowers.

  “Speaking of photos,” Cullen remarked as they headed back up to the picnic pavilion. “You were going to show me your childhood photos.”

  “My albums are back at the ranch house, but I’ve got some of them on my social media pages.” She accessed them on her phone.

  He studied the photo of her mom, dad and all her siblings. It was the last photo taken of all of them together.

  Cullen studied the picture with a wistful gaze. “You look like you were a happy family.”

  Bridgett nodded, poignant emotion filling her heart as Cullen transferred Robby and the BabyBjorn to her and they settled at a picnic table once again. “We were, until my mom and dad died suddenly in a car crash, and then it was sad chaos for a long time afterward.”

  He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and brought her—and Robby—into the curve of his body. “How come?”

  “My older sister, Erin, was married with three small children. G.W., her husband at the time, was a geologist for an oil company and traveled constantly. My older brother—grumpy old Gavin—was in med school, so he wasn’t around a lot to help out.”

  “Sounds...stressful.”

  “It was. We sold all the cattle my dad had been running on the ranch. But we still had the Western-wear store in town—Monroe’s—that had been in our family for generation to run. So Erin was managing that and the custom boot-making business that went along with it.”

  “Sounds even harder.”

  “Then her daughter, Angelica, got seriously ill. G.W. couldn’t handle it and checked out. Literally and figuratively. Two years later, when Angelica died at just six, they divorced. Meanwhile, Erin was raising Bess and me, and even though we were teens at the time, we tried to do everything we could to pitch in to help out around the house and also help her look after our baby brother, Nick, who was only ten when our parents passed.”

  “Sounds unimaginably rough.”

  “It was. Anyway, we stopped taking group photos after my parents died because it was so hard anyway, without Mom and Dad, and doing that just made us miss them more acutely. So, suffice it to say, there’s a big gap in my family photo history. But...” She brightened, glad to have of it all out there, at long last. “I do have these pictures from nursing school.”

  She thumbed through a couple of dozen pictures on her phone. “I still didn’t really want to memorialize anything, but my fellow nursing students took photos of me whether I wanted them to or not, so there are a fair number of them. Including a lot of me and Bess.”

  “Does this have anything to do with why you resisted getting married right out of college?”

  “Ah, perceptive, cowboy.”

  He waited. Sensing there was more.

  She knew that as long as she was baring her soul, she might as well tell him everything—the good, the bad and the ugly. “Yeah. In retrospect, I know it’s selfish, but back then, all I could think was that when my parents passed I was just at the age where I would have started dating, and I had to step in and help Erin out with chores and babysitting her kids as well as my younger brother.”

  She let it all out in a rush, as her emotions soared out of control. “And then there wasn’t enough money, and we all had to put ourselves through college, so Bess and I were always working and going to school, and I felt like I never got the freedom to go out and have fun and do as I please like most of my peers.”

  “Anyone in your position would have felt the same way, sweetheart,” he said softly.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” she acknowledged. “Anyway...” She stopped and shook her head, comforted by the depth of understanding in Cullen’s mesmerizing blue eyes. “The thought of marrying someone I wasn’t sure I felt deeply enough about to make a lifelong commitment to...and having a ton of kids right away...seemed like a death sentence.”

  “Interesting.” He tugged tenderly on a lock of her hair. “When you talked about your ex before, you didn’t say you didn’t love him.”

  And she hadn’t, for a very good reason. Bridgett gathered her courage and looked deep into Cullen’s eyes. “That was because I didn’t know what life-changing love was then.” I hadn’t found Robby or Riot or spent time with you. “I know now.”

  * * *

  IT WAS CULLEN’S turn to feel trapped. Not by all that he felt about Bridgett—which he welcomed—but by what he couldn’t say just yet.

  Not without rushing her into something neither of them was quite ready for. Especially with so much still unresolved. “I’m sorry that you had such a hard time.” He leaned down to buss her temple.

  She turned slightly and kissed the underside of his jaw. “Right back at you, cowboy.” She sighed, still snuggling close, and glanced up at him wryly. “Sounds like the high school years were not particularly good for either of us.”

  “Maybe it will be different for Robby.” He hoped.

  Bridgett smiled.

  Cullen’s phone chimed with a text message from Frank McCabe. Great news on the auction! You’ve got everyone buzzing. Want to get together to celebrate?

  Cullen paused, then punched in a return message. Sounds good. Couple weeks?

  A long pause. Let us know where and when.

  Bridgett read the exchange. “That was nice.”

  Cullen nodded, his expression inscrutable.

  She studied him, perplexed, able to feel the wall around his heart going back up. “You don’t think it was sincere?” she asked.

  “It was.”

  “Then what’s the problem...?”

  He shrugged and put his phone away. “Things have just never been that comfortable between us.”

  “Maybe if you tried harder?” she suggested gently. “Went through that door that he just opened for you?”

  Clenching his jaw, Cullen gazed out at the canyons, and Bridgett had never felt more removed from him. She curved her fingers around his forearm. “Look, I know it’s none of my business,” she pushed on with difficulty. “I just know that if I had another day or hour or minute with my folks, I wouldn’t waste it. I’d embrace it with everything I had.”

  Another terse nod in response.

  She could tell by the way he was still studying the wind farm in the distant part of the ranch that he thought she didn’t—couldn’t—understand.

  And maybe she didn’t.

  Maybe, ever the sentimental fool, she was only seeing what she wanted to see. Not what really was, between him and the McCabes.

  One thing was for certain, he did not appreciate what she had said, no matter how well-intentioned it had been.

  * * *

  CULLEN WAS RELIEVED when Bridgett let the subject of his family drop and spent the rest of the day going back to their origin
al plan—which was to celebrate his big win. And it was a huge success.

  So much so that he felt he might finally be in a financial position to think about settling down. Getting married. Having a family. And there was only one woman he had in mind for that course of action.

  Aware it was way too soon to be thinking or talking that way, however, he concentrated on having fun. They went into town for dinner and ate at one of the outside tables along the sidewalk so that Robby could hang out in his stroller while a leashed Riot lounged at their feet.

  The next day, however, work called. He had 500 head of cattle that had been sold to be separated into smaller, manageable groups and moved to pastures closer to ranch roads.

  He came in at dark that evening, exhausted, and was welcomed with a nice hot dinner that Bridgett had made. A nighttime walk with Riot and cuddling with Robby followed that, and bedtime meant sweet and tender lovemaking with Bridgett.

  The next morning brought more of the same.

  He paused before heading out. Bridgett looked gorgeous, her hair all tousled, cheeks still pink with sleep. “You going to be okay alone today?”

  She smiled, amused. “I think I can manage, cowboy.”

  “Mitzy...Dan...the search.”

  She heaved a big sigh. “I haven’t forgotten it’s Monday and they are headed to the high school to try and identify the three girls. I’ve just been trying not to think about it.”

  “Good plan.”

  She looked so vulnerable.

  “You know, you could always call in reinforcements for Riot and Robby, and saddle up.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “What makes you think I know how to herd cattle?”

  “You said your dad raised cattle until you were fourteen...”

  “Fine. So I might know a thing or two about herding. And your point is?”

  “Thought you might enjoy a change of scenery.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and enveloped her in a hug. Anything to keep her from worrying too much.

  She splayed her hands across his chest. Her eyes were all soft and misty. “Maybe one day,” she promised softly. “Today, I’m going to be all mom.”

  He couldn’t blame her for wanting to cherish every second. “I’ll have my cell phone with me. If you hear anything...”

  “I’ll call. Promise.”

  He brought her close for another hug. He breathed in the womanly scent of her. “You’re going to get the family you want, sweetheart.”

  She drew back, her lower lip quivering, no longer the ultraconfident Bridgett he’d clashed with in the hospital nursery. “How do you know?” she whispered.

  Easy. He buried his face in the fragrant softness of her hair. “Because I am personally going to see to it.”

  One way or another she would have a baby and puppy to love, a husband who cherished her, and a place for them all to call home.

  And when that happened, they would both know what true contentment was.

  * * *

  FOR BRIDGETT, THE day went on forever. She hated when life spiraled out of her control. The way it had when her parents died. The way it was now. The only help for that was activity focused on someone else.

  And that someone was Cullen.

  He had done so much for her and Robby and Riot.

  Been so kind and selfless and downright heroic.

  She knew she owed him, big time. She also realized there was one thing she could do for him, and she hoped that would be just as meaningful. So she worked on arranging it all day long, via phone calls, texts and emails. And by late afternoon her big thank-you to him was all set.

  And still there was no word from the sheriff’s department or social services.

  Finally, just as Cullen was coming in from the range at five in the evening, Mitzy stopped by. The social worker looked as frustrated as Bridgett felt. “No news?” she guessed.

  Mitzy set her bag down. “We were able to ID all three girls. Sherri and Dawn are still students at the high school in San Angelo. The tall one—with the dark curly hair, Marie Griffin—dropped out in January, said she hadn’t been getting along with her parents and was going off to live with her grandmother in Tulsa.”

  “And...?”

  “Dan checked. Her grandmother died last summer.”

  Bridgett’s heart lurched in her chest. “So, where is she?”

  Cullen moved in, simultaneously taking her hand and pushing her onto the closest seat—a kitchen stool.

  The social worker frowned. “We don’t know. Dan’s trying to track Mr. and Mrs. Griffin down now. I got their phone numbers from the school, too. We’re both leaving messages all over the place. If we don’t have any luck, we’ll ask the two other girls, but records show they have been in school with only a couple intermittent absences, due to illness, this semester, so I’m not sure if they will be able to tell us anything or not.”

  “Do school officials think Marie Griffin might have been pregnant?” Cullen asked.

  “The guidance counselor wasn’t sure. She just recalled her looking both stressed and relieved the day Marie came in to say she was leaving.”

  “The time frame fits,” Cullen said.

  Mitzy nodded. “It does. Although no one at the school recalls Marie dating anyone there. She was a pretty quiet seventeen-year-old. Actually, she’s eighteen now. She had a birthday last month.”

  “So now what?” Bridgett asked, beginning to feel her life spiraling out of control again.

  Mitzy sighed. “We let Dan do his job. I’ll do mine. As soon as we learn anything else, we’ll contact you. In the meantime, stay put. Stay calm. And Bridgett?” She paused, beaming her approval. “The new plan for your living arrangements is likely to go over much better with the department heads at DCFS and the family court judge.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  New plan? What new plan? Cullen wondered. He stayed inside with Robby and Riot while Bridgett walked the social worker out. When she came back in, he noticed her face was flushed with emotion. He didn’t know whether to feel concerned for her welfare or betrayed. The truth was, he felt a little of both. “What was Mitzy talking about?”

  “You know I have my meeting with the social services department on Thursday afternoon, to talk about Robby’s placement.” Bridgett was chipper, as always, when things were going her way.

  “I knew it was this week. I don’t think you had told me when, though.”

  In the laundry room, the washer dinged, signaling the cycle had finished. She spun around and headed for the small space, leaving him to follow. “Well, it could still be moved up or back, depending on what happens with Marie Griffin, and so on. But I was only initially allowed to foster Robby because his health was uncertain and I was an approved foster mother who was also a registered nurse, and an N-ICU, one at that.”

  He lounged against the door, giving her room to work. “I remember.”

  “Luckily, Robby has been healthy.”

  He let his gaze rove from the satisfied curve of her soft lips to her sparkling green eyes. “His umbilical cord hasn’t fallen off yet.”

  “Actually, it did. This morning. In his diaper.”

  Aware she was awaiting his reaction to such momentous new parent news, he said, “Oh.”

  “So...” Bridgett bent to take the clothes from the dryer and drop them into an empty laundry basket “...from the standpoint of his health, anyway, there is no more reason why he would need to be placed with me, specifically.”

  He tore his eyes from the enticing way her knee-length cotton skirt hugged her slender hips and her cotton blouse her breasts as she moved the damp baby clothes from washer to dryer.

  “Except he loves you and is used to you, and I’m damn sure, thinks of you as his mommy.”

  “And you his daddy.” She shut the door and leaned across the top of the machine to set
the dials and switch it on. Swinging back to him, she leaned up against the machine, her hands braced on either side of her. “But we both know that could—maybe will—change.” Her mouth took on a sober line.

  A tense silence fell.

  “What does Mitzy have to say about all this?”

  “She’s going to support me in my request to continue beyond the approved two-week period and foster-adopt,” she informed him. “But I need to have all my ducks in a row. Including and especially the housing issue.”

  “I told you. You can continue to stay here as long as you like. You all can.”

  Briefly, gratitude shone in her eyes. “I know.” Her soft lips took on a new, troubled slant. “But...Mitzy feels that because you and I have no longstanding commitment to each, other than the one we have forged the last twelve days or so, coupled with the fact that I have decided to take a full maternity leave from the hospital...and lost the house I was applying for a mortgage for...that I need to have a more solid housing plan in place.”

  “And now you have one?” he asked, with a great deal more equanimity than he felt.

  “Yes, we do,” she answered with a nod. “My twin, Bess, and I are going to buy a house together. We were both planning on purchasing our own homes, individually, but we could just as easily pool our funds and buy a bigger place to accommodate all of us right now. And we could stagger our work schedules so that there would always be one of us there for Robby. Hence, he wouldn’t need to go into day care at all!”

  It was a great solution. One DCFS would have trouble finding fault in. The only one not served well by it was him. He swallowed his hurt and anger and forced himself to be the Texas gentleman he had been raised to be. “How long is all that going to take?”

  “Well, that’s the rub.” Reaching up, Bridgett undid the clasp holding her hair up on the back of her head. She clipped it to the open neckline of her blouse. “Bess and I haven’t started looking yet, and we’d have to find a place and go through the whole mortgage process.”

  With a beleaguered sigh, she ran her fingers through the silky strands, combing them into place. “So, in the interim, Robby and Riot and I would need a place to stay.”