A Christmas Baby Surprise: Reclaimed by the Rancher

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A Christmas Baby Surprise: Reclaimed by the Rancher Page 7

by Catherine Mann


  She’d give anything for her family to be intact.

  Didn’t Thomas deserve the same? An intact, functional family? Parents who adored him? She already loved her son so much. And if she were being honest with herself, she wanted a family just as much as Porter seemed to. She wanted them to be a complete and intact unit.

  More than her own happiness was at stake now.

  And for the first time, she was more afraid of what might happen to her marriage if she remembered, than if she left those five years buried.

  * * *

  Relieved Thomas’s checkup had gone so well, Porter shut the door of the car behind his wife in the parking lot of the pediatrician’s office. This had been their first joint trip off the property since the family had left the hospital together last week. He glanced in the backseat, where Thomas smiled at him in his “Santa’s Little Helper” onesie.

  The doctor had confirmed that Thomas was healing well. It would just take time. That seemed to be the theme of his life recently. Wait. Be patient.

  It was damn hard to do sometimes. Porter strode around the car and positioned himself in the driver’s seat. On the one hand, he was grateful they were all still together. On the other hand, he felt as if things had stalled since their beach picnic. She had built a wall around herself and he didn’t understand why. Since that kiss, she’d been antsy, jumpy over being touched. Only when they were with Thomas were they both at ease. He didn’t doubt for an instant—she loved their son every bit as much as he did. That baby boy had them wrapped around his finger.

  Porter had built multimillion-dollar homes around the country. He’d built a billion-dollar corporation on his own, with no help from his wealthy mother. And yet those accomplishments didn’t mean as much to him as coaxing a big belch from Thomas or laughing with Alaina as they struggled to work a tiny flying fist into a sleeper.

  He wanted a family no matter what. People accused him of being determined at work, but that was nothing compared to how hard he would devote himself to making this come together. He wouldn’t give up what he was building in his life. It was a helluva lot more important than any structure put up by his corporation.

  Porter started the car and adjusted the radio. “Would you like to pick up carryout on our way home or stop by a deli? The weather’s perfect to eat on the deck.”

  Would she be interested in unwinding later in the hot tub? He didn’t know what to expect from her after she’d welcomed his kiss on the beach, and then proceeded to push him away.

  “Porter, do you mind if we do something away from the beach house? I don’t want to be cooped up all day. It’s too nice of an afternoon to spend inside.” Alaina stared out the window as they drove past a team of reindeer made of bent willow branches in the courtyard of the doctor’s office.

  A smile pulled at his lips. Perhaps this patience thing was paying off. Alaina hadn’t wanted to do anything outside of the house since they’d arrived there. This was a good sign. Maybe she was beginning to trust him.

  “Of course. I have to swing by a job site for a final walk-through. Then the rest of the day is ours.” He reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “I don’t mind that at all. Besides, I’d like to see you in action.”

  She flashed him a quick smile as she turned the radio to a Christmas station. Her head bopped along to a jazzy rendition of an old classic as they drove through town, where lighted white snowflakes hung from palm trees lining the village’s main thoroughfare.

  It didn’t take long to reach the job site. This was an up-and-coming section of town. The beach stretched and wound lazily in front of them, beyond the Spanish-influenced mansion Porter needed to inspect.

  “Porter, this place is beautiful. It’s so exotic looking.” Her eyes darted to the lattice that was pressed against the side of the house between the garage and door. Scores of plants were strategically placed around the yard.

  He slowed the car to a stop. “It is. It’s been my favorite recent project. Do you want to stay in the car or come with me?” He searched her eyes for a clue as to what she was thinking. She glanced behind him, over his shoulder to the two men who were talking to each other by the large arched doorway.

  “I want to come. But first, can you tell me who they are?” She gestured toward the men.

  “The taller man with the buzz cut is my second-in-command. His name is Oliver Flournoy. He’s a smooth-talking guy, but he’s still single. The man he is talking to is Micah Segal, our CFO. Sometimes we go out with him and his wife, Brianna. They have a toddler, Danny. He adores you. Like all kids do.”

  “Okay. Oliver and Micah. Got it in here.” She tapped her temple and let out a shaky laugh. She unclipped her seat belt and pushed herself out of the car so she could unbuckle Thomas.

  Alaina really was something else. This was a huge step for her and seeing her step back into the world so fearlessly even in the face of her amnesia impressed him in a major way. She was an amazing woman, more than just beautiful. She had an inner strength that shone—and drew him. How had he lost sight of this side of her?

  What a helluva time to want to tuck her away from prying eyes and kiss her until she sighed, and more.

  He cleared his throat and his thoughts, narrowing his focus back on the moment at hand. By the time Thomas was out of his seat, Micah and Oliver were over at the car. Palpable silence descended on the group. Alaina rocked Thomas back and forth, eyes flicking from Oliver to Micah and back to Porter.

  Oliver, a slim man with deep brown hair, cleared his throat to break the silence.

  “How are you feeling, Alaina?” he asked, clearly feeling awkward as hell with her amnesia.

  “Well. All things considered... And how are you, Oliver?”

  “Doing well, doing well,” he answered, repeating her polite words, bobbing his head. “Just gearing up for Christmas at my sister’s.”

  “That’s...good.” She rocked Thomas, turning her attention to the shorter man with auburn hair. “And how are things with you, Micah?”

  “No reason to complain, ma’am.” He blinked fast as if forcing himself to make eye contact. “All’s quiet and well at home.”

  More awkward silence descended. Damn. This was not going the way he’d thought it might.

  “We are glad you are feeling better,” Micah added. Blink, blink. Blink, blink.

  “We are, too,” Porter said, wishing he could say something to smooth things over. “Alaina, why don’t you let me hold Thomas and you can go explore the grounds. The view from the back deck is stunning. Oliver, would you unlock the door for her?”

  Alaina nodded, visibly relieved at the opportunity to escape. Brushing his hands along her arms, Porter took Thomas from her.

  “Of course.” Oliver unlocked the door and strode inside, flipping on lights. Alaina walked through the door frame, her movements quick and brisk. She was taking everything in. Seemed to love the driftwood-colored hardwood floors, the crisp white trim. She flashed Porter a quick smile over her shoulder before walking across the rooms to the patio door.

  His eyes stayed on her a moment longer. He was struck by her bravery in facing this amnesia head-on, even when it wasn’t easy. In the old days, he might have asked her about artwork for the place. Her expertise was always coveted by home buyers. He missed seeing the way her artist’s mind worked. It had been one part of their marriage where they shared an easy accord.

  “How are you handling the new kid? This fatherhood gig is something else.” Micah made small talk with Porter as they moved through the house.

  “It’s everything I wanted and nothing I imagined.” He would do anything for his son. Anything. He’d never expected to feel this much for another living being—the love, the protectiveness, the pride. “He’s fun.”

  “And cute as hell.” Micah tugged Thomas’s healthy fo
ot lightly. “How’s his clubfoot healing? Gotta confess, I don’t know a lot about this type of issue.”

  “He’ll need two more surgeries and physical therapy, but the doctor expects a full recovery. I just hate that he has to hurt.”

  Micah nodded sympathetically. “He smiles when he sees you. That rocks.”

  “Truth.” At least he had that going for him. The bond he was already creating with his son made his heart swell. It made the dream of a family of his own more real—and more important.

  “And Alaina?”

  “She’s a natural mother. No amnesia could steal that from her.”

  “I’m sorry, man. I wish I could say it’s for the best, since y’all— Hell, that sounds insensitive.”

  Micah’s features tensed. But Porter knew he didn’t mean anything by the comment. Things had been so difficult before the accident. So rocky. It wasn’t something they could keep hidden.

  “Don’t worry. I know you mean well.” Their voices bounced around the skeleton of the house.

  “Come have dinner with us. Let’s hang out like old married couples.” Micah’s face showed genuine concern and interest. He was a good guy. The type Porter could always count on.

  “I’ll talk to Alaina. We’ll see if she’s up to it. She wants to talk to people from our past, and I want to give her whatever she needs. We just have to tread carefully and follow the doctor’s instructions.” Porter explained a little of the situation to Micah, but his gaze moved to the side. Toward Alaina.

  She was walking around the property, taking in the features of this house. She seemed to belong in the place. The softer, more classical lines and arches fit her better than the angles and modernism of their beach home.

  Why hadn’t he perceived this before? His mind filled with all the times she’d catered to his tastes and desires. He couldn’t escape the realization that he needed to appreciate her for who she was, not just how she fit into his vision of the perfect family.

  “Of course. Let’s talk more and pick a time. Dinner at our place. Or a restaurant.” Micah clapped him on the shoulder. “Or even go to the ballet.”

  “Seriously? The ballet?” Head cocking to the side, Porter snapped his attention back to the conversation.

  “Just checking to be sure you’re still listening. You were so busy staring at your wife.”

  It was hard not to stare at her. Alaina captivated his attention, his thoughts.

  Seeing her in this house he wondered if surprising her with the beach house after finding out they would need fertility treatments a few years ago had been the right call. Should he have had her pick out a house with him instead? He’d cut her out of the decisions sometimes, telling himself he was surprising her. Yet then she was stuck pretending to be pleased.

  He needed to set his mind on ways to fix that in the future, when he was considering major changes like remodeling or even relocation. Big changes he couldn’t tackle right this second. But he could—and wanted—to do something special for her now, something she would like.

  After they were back in the car, Porter started to drive toward a place they hadn’t been to in ages. Fishin’ Franks—her favorite restaurant. He wanted today to be special.

  * * *

  Lunch was absolutely delicious. Cajun fish tacos. Fresh avocados. Live music.

  All things considered, Alaina was having a decent time being out of the beach house today. Porter was as charming as ever, completely sensitive to her every whim and desire. And to Thomas. Seeing them together made her heart surge. Porter was dedicated to the boy. Completely devoted to becoming a family.

  For a moment, she considered what it would be like if her memories never came back.

  Maybe this was all they needed. A completely fresh start. A new house for a new family. A house like the one at the job site. One that fed into her eclectic sensibilities and symbolized their new life together.

  She could practically picture Thomas taking his first steps on the driftwood-colored hardwood floors. And art hanging all over the living room.

  As they walked into the Baby Supplies Galore store, she scanned the faces of the other shoppers. In true Florida Christmas fashion, babies were dressed in shorts and tanks that sported flamingos in Santa hats.

  The aisles were packed with late-December holiday shoppers. Christmas music mingled with the rush of families debating gifts.

  Porter kept stride next to her as she pushed the cart down the least crowded aisle. His hand went almost instinctively to the small of her back. The warmth of his touch begged her to recall their past again. It clouded her sense of the present. Even knowing that they could be a family with a fresh start, she yearned to remember what they’d shared.

  “What was the best present you ever received from me for Christmas?” she asked, looking at the blanket sets.

  Glancing at the prices, Alaina quickly realized this was a high-end baby store. Just one item probably cost as much as five of her childhood Christmases altogether. This was a completely different level of shopping.

  “Hmm. There was one year that you did a painting based on the blueprint of the building project that launched my career. I loved that. It’s hanging above my desk in my office.”

  “I’d like to look at that more closely. Get an idea of the direction of my art. And what was my favorite Christmas present from you?”

  “I think the best gift I ever gave you may have been the surprise trip to Paris. We spent a week in art galleries eating brie and bread.”

  “Ah, bread and cheese. Such a solid combination.” She laughed to cover her regret that she couldn’t remember what sounded like a beautiful trip. “What about your Christmases as a child?”

  She slowed down beside a tower of holiday-themed baby rattles—penguins with red-and-green scarves, polar bears with fuzzy hats and deer with jingle bells.

  “My mom went all out. Good God, she went all out. Mom’s a lawyer. Did I tell you that?” He plucked a snowy owl out of a bin and waggled it in front of the baby, who rewarded him with a gummy grin.

  “I don’t believe anyone thought to tell me that detail, actually.” She’d taken in so much information in such a short time it was hard to keep the facts straight. “I assumed she was independently wealthy. She took time off to be here? That’s really sweet.”

  He waggled his hand. “Taking time off work is a way to put it, I guess. My mother sneaks off to work just like I do. Neither of us has ever been big on sleep.”

  “That’s funny, given the impression she relays, snoozing in, preferring the baby be asleep.”

  “That’s my mom. Contrary.”

  Alaina hugged a stuffed bear against the ache in her chest. “I wish my mother could be here to meet Thomas. She would love him.”

  His forehead furrowed with deep creases of concern. “I wish she could be here for you.”

  She set the bear back on the shelf, arranging him precisely. “Your mother’s been surprisingly easy to get along with. This fresh start has been helpful perhaps. We don’t feel threatened.”

  “You have no reason to feel threatened by my mother.”

  “She’s certainly got it all together.”

  And what about her own life? Nothing about it felt together. A whole degree and career she couldn’t remember participating in. What kind of exhibits had she been a part of?

  There was no sense dwelling on it, though. Instead, she would put all of her energy into the present moment. Focusing on the past wasn’t doing anyone any good. For now, she would worry about making Thomas’s first Christmas something special.

  Porter picked a reindeer and snowman ornament that read Baby’s first Christmas. He flipped it over in his hand before handing it to Alaina. “What do you think of this one?”

  She traced the ceramic ornament. “It’s perfect. And speakin
g of firsts, since I haven’t remembered anything, let’s choose some new traditions to start today.”

  The fresh start she’d been daydreaming about could begin now.

  “Such as?” he asked.

  So many traditions to pick from. She opted for the simplest, one that connected so many families at the holidays. “Let’s start with meals. What do we usually eat for Christmas?”

  “Traditional turkey and a duck with all the trimmings. You like oyster stuffing so we have that. I like cranberry pie.”

  “While that sounds delicious, let’s do away with it or eat it all on another day. For Christmas let’s serve something totally different this year. A standing rib roast...” She snapped her fingers. “Or I know—how about we have a shrimp boil?”

  “A shrimp boil? For Christmas?”

  “Yes,” she said, warming to the idea, feeling in control of the holiday and her new life for the first time. “In the Carolinas we call it frogmore stew, but down here it would be a shrimp boil. Shrimp, corn, new potatoes, maybe crawfish or crab or sausage in it, as well. We could have corn-bread stuffing, or crab and corn bread stuffing. What do you think?”

  He held up a Santa hat and plopped it on her head. “I think you’re so excited I’ll eat anything if it makes you smile like that.” His hand slid down to cup her face. “I’ve missed your smile.”

  Again, she thought about how he must feel in this situation. He’d lost his wife, for all intents and purposes. First to the coma and now to her inability to remember what they’d been to each other. And this certainly couldn’t have been how he’d envisioned their first Christmas with their child. “I’m sorry for all the pain this is causing you.”

  “I’m not in pain right now. I’m happy. Really happy.”

  His eyes shone with sincerity that sent tingles into her stomach.

  “Let’s shop. This is one time I won’t complain about all that money you have. Let’s be Santa.”

 

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