“Yeah, I learned that one the hard way,” he admitted.
“But you didn’t run for the hills,” she noted.
“I thought about it. It was an instinctive, knee-jerk response and, thankfully, one that didn’t root too deeply in my mind, but I did think about it.”
“And now?” she prompted.
He looked down at the baby in his arms, and there was no denying the affection in his gaze. “Now I wouldn’t give him up for anything in the world.”
“That’s how I feel about my baby,” she told him. “And I refuse to feel guilty that the absence of a ring on my finger is scandalous to Mrs. Vanderhorst.”
He seemed satisfied by her response, and when he left with Bennett, she exhaled a sigh of relief that he hadn’t realized she never truly answered his question.
Chapter Six
Antonia might have had her reservations about Clay—or, more specifically, about her own uncontrollable response to his nearness—but she couldn’t deny that she’d started to fall for his son the very first time she’d held him in her arms. And after only three days of taking care of Bennett, she was completely head-over-heels.
Her absolute favorite time of day was their quiet time after lunch, when she would sit with him, rocking him gently, until he fell asleep. He was asleep now, and she nuzzled his cheek, inhaling his familiar baby scent. She felt an ache in her chest—an actual, physical longing—to hold her own baby in her arms.
The first indication of her pregnancy had come in the form of a plus sign on one of those home test kits, and she’d been torn between excitement and terror. By the time her doctor had confirmed the diagnosis, she’d managed to push aside most of the terror and focus on the joy of impending motherhood. But the baby was still more of an abstract concept than a reality. It wasn’t until she’d had an ultrasound and actually saw the image on the monitor that her baby became real. And when she’d felt the subtle quickening inside that was evidence of her baby’s movements, the terror started to come back.
During that time, she’d thought about Gene a lot, and spent far too much time hoping that he would have a change of heart and return to Thunder Canyon. When that didn’t happen, she tried to put him out of her mind. But when she felt her baby move, when the life inside of her was no longer just real but suddenly imminent, her conscience had started to nag at her.
She felt confident that Gene had made his feelings about their child clear when he’d high-tailed it out of town, but there was a tiny part inside of her that refused to give up without another try. So after weeks of vacillating, she finally called and asked if they could meet. He’d told her that he was in Kentucky. That in and of itself should have been a pretty big clue that he’d wanted to get as far away from Thunder Canyon as was possible. He’d moved on and she needed to do the same.
She’d fought to hold back the tears that filled her eyes. She didn’t want him to know how much he’d hurt her, how much his rejection of their baby continued to hurt. But for the sake of their child, she forced herself to make the effort, to ask if he wanted her to let him know when their child was born.
“It was your decision to have the kid, not mine,” he’d said tersely. “As far as I’m concerned, that makes the kid yours, not mine.”
As disappointing as his attitude was, Antonia had realized that, ultimately, it was for the best. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about Gene ever showing up to make a claim on his child. In fact, she’d be surprised if he ever ventured near the Montana border again.
Bennett exhaled a soft sigh, and Antonia touched her lips to the soft, baby fine auburn hair on the top of his head. It was a rare, peaceful moment in her day—until she heard the back door slam.
Ace stomped down the hall into the living room, mindless of both the noise he was making and the dirt he was tracking in with his boots.
“Shh!” Antonia had to hush loudly so that he could hear.
He stopped in the doorway, a scowl on his face as he looked at her snuggling with Clay’s baby. “Don’t you have enough to do around here without babysitting someone else’s kid?”
“Probably,” she agreed easily. “But since that kid’s father is currently doing Jonah’s job, it seemed like a fair trade. Besides, hanging out with Bennett is good practice for when my baby comes along.”
At the mention of her baby, his scowl darkened. “You really want to have this baby on your own?”
“I am having this baby on my own,” she reminded him.
“Besides, it’s not as if she could change her mind now,” Hudson, who had followed his brother into the room, pointed out logically.
“But she could tell us the identity of the baby’s father,” Ace said, in a tone that left Antonia in no doubt as to what would happen if she shared that information.
“Haven’t you heard the story about the clinic in Bozeman?”
Hudson snorted; Ace just glared.
“Mrs. Haverly might believe that story,” her eldest brother said. “But I don’t.”
As he’d made clear to her on more than one occasion. But she didn’t care what any of her brothers believed. What mattered was that Mrs. Haverly had taken the little bit of information she’d given her and run with it.
It had been early in her fifth month of pregnancy, when wearing bulky clothes was no longer enough to hide the slight roundness of her tummy—and when wearing bulky clothes would have raised eyebrows, anyway, because it was July. Antonia had seen the speculative looks, heard the faint whispers.
Of course, Bev Haverly didn’t want to speculate—she wanted to know. And the older woman had cornered Antonia outside of church one Sunday morning and bluntly asked, “Is it true that you’re going to have a baby?”
Antonia, who had loved her baby from the moment she suspected its existence, refused to be embarrassed or ashamed about her pregnancy. She met her gaze evenly and said, “Yes, it is.”
“But you haven’t even been dating anyone,” the widow noted, confirming to Antonia that she and Gene had done an even better job of hiding their relationship than she’d expected.
“Thanks to new medical procedures, a woman no longer needs a husband or a boyfriend to have a baby,” she said.
Mrs. Haverly still looked skeptical. “Really?”
She nodded again. “Oh, yes. There’s a wonderful reproduction clinic in Bozeman that’s helping a lot of women have babies.”
It was a simple statement of fact. At no time did Antonia actually say that she had gone to the clinic, so she didn’t feel too guilty about the fact that Bev Haverly had put her own spin on the statement and spread the news far and wide. Besides, Antonia would much prefer people thinking she was stubborn and determined enough to choose to have a baby on her own than to know that the father of her child had abandoned them both.
“What are you guys doing in here, anyway? I thought you were fixing fences today.”
“Got most of it fixed, but we need to go into town to get some supplies before we can finish up.”
“So why are you here instead of on your way into town?”
“’Cause we worked through lunch,” Hudson said, a subtle plea in his tone.
“There’s leftover roast beef in the fridge,” she told them. “You can make yourselves a couple of sandwiches.”
Ace frowned. “Isn’t that your job?”
Her brows lifted. “Excuse me?”
“Well, you’re in charge of the household,” he reminded her. “And the kitchen is part of the house.”
“And you’re a Neanderthal,” she said pleasantly. “Hard to imagine why some lucky girl hasn’t snapped you up.”
“Are you gonna make the sandwiches or not?” Ace growled.
“I can do it,” Hudson, the peacemaker, offered. “They won’t be as good as Antonia’s sandwiches, but they sho
uld fill the hole.”
Antonia rolled her eyes as she pushed herself out of the chair. “You, on the other hand, are a charmer—and far too slippery for any woman to catch hold of.”
He just grinned at her.
She sighed. “I’ll make the sandwiches.”
“Good,” Ace said, and stomped off to the kitchen.
But Hudson stayed behind, watching as she gently laid Bennett down in the playpen and covered him with a thin blanket.
“You’re going to be a great mother,” Hudson said.
It was the sincerity in his tone as much as the words that had tears stinging Antonia’s eyes. “I hope so.”
“But a baby really should have two parents.”
“Hudson—”
He held up his hands. “None of my business, I know. I’m just saying.”
“Well, keep your ‘just saying’ to yourself or you’ll be making your own sandwiches.”
He made a show of zipping his lips and turned toward the kitchen.
* * *
Bennett was teething, which meant that he was cranky and sleep-deprived and his father was the same.
Because Clay didn’t want to risk the wrath of the other boarders if they were awakened by a screaming baby, he’d started taking Bennett for walks outside if he woke up in the night. Tonight when he was walking Bennett, he noticed that there were lights on in the stables.
After the baby was settled back down and left in the care of his uncle, Clay wandered down to the stables to see what was going on.
He didn’t expect to see Antonia. She was dressed in a pair of faded jeans topped with a bulky knit sweater with the cuffs rolled back. With her hair tied back in a loose braid and her face bare of makeup, she looked as if she was fifteen years old rather than twice that age—which made the roundness of her belly even more disconcerting.
“It’s two o’clock in the morning.”
She gasped and turned toward him, a hand pressed to her chest. “You scared me half to death.”
She didn’t look as scared as she did exhausted, with her cheeks devoid of all color and shadows beneath those deep green eyes.
“What are you doing out here by yourself at this time of night?” he demanded.
She frowned at the tightly controlled anger in his tone but only said, “Daisy Mae didn’t have much of an appetite tonight, so I figured she was getting ready to foal and I came down to check on her.”
“At two in the morning?”
“Horses usually foal at night,” she pointed out.
“I’m aware of that,” he assured her. “I was wondering what compelled you to take a trip—on your own—to the stable at two in the morning.”
“I actually came down around midnight.”
“Oh, well, that’s a much more reasonable hour for a young woman to be wandering around in the dark,” he said dryly.
“I grew up on this ranch,” she reminded him. “I know my way around.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then why don’t you tell me what is the point?”
He wasn’t entirely sure. He just knew that when he’d seen her there, looking so alone and vulnerable, he’d suddenly been aware that she was alone and vulnerable, and his protective instincts had risen to the fore. “It isn’t safe for a young woman to be wandering anywhere on her own at that hour.”
Her lips curved, just a little. “This is Thunder Canyon.”
“And last year my cousin Rose was kidnapped in Thunder Canyon,” he reminded her.
“Not to disregard what she went through, because I’m sure it was a terrifying ordeal, but Jasper Fowler is crazy. And Jasper Fowler is now in jail and there’s no one wandering around the ranch who shouldn’t be here—” her eyes sparkled with humor “—because no overnight guests are allowed.”
“Do you really think paragraph eight is going to keep any vagrants or drifters off of your property if they decide they want to be here?”
“I really think you’re making a big deal out of nothing,” she said. “I came down because I knew Daisy Mae’s time was getting close and I wanted to see how she was doing.”
“And if she was having any trouble?” he challenged. “What were you going to do?” Because the thought of her stepping into the birthing stall with an agitated, laboring horse made him crazy.
She sent him a look, as if she knew what he was thinking. “I was going to call one of my brothers.”
“Were you?”
“I’m not an idiot,” she told him. “And I wouldn’t put my baby at risk for anything.”
“Then why don’t you go back up to the house and get some rest?” he suggested.
“Because I don’t want her to be alone.”
He wondered if she was really worried about the mare, or if she was thinking about her own impending delivery. Did she have anyone who would be with her for the birth of her child? Or would she be alone? Even if she’d consciously made the decision to have a baby without a father, she had to know it wouldn’t be easy on her own.
He sighed. “Then I guess I’m staying, too.”
“That’s really not necessary,” she protested.
“I’m sure you’re right, but I’m staying anyway.” He nodded toward the office. “Got any coffee in there?”
“I can put some on.”
“I’ll do it.”
He came back a few minutes later with a steaming mug in one hand and a chair in the other. He set up the chair and gestured to her, half expecting that she would protest. But obviously more than two hours on her feet was enough, because she sat.
“So what are you doing here at 2:00 a.m.?” she asked him.
“I think it’s closer to three by now,” he noted. “And I was up with Bennett—he’s cutting teeth and not very happy about it.”
Her brows lifted. “You’re chastising me for being down here on my own and you left your son alone in your room?”
“No, I left Bennett with his uncle.”
“Oh.” She turned her attention back to the laboring mare.
“When was the vet last here?”
“A few days ago. He said everything looked good, but when I came down, Daisy Mae seemed really uncomfortable and uneasy.”
“I’m sure they don’t call it labor because it’s a walk in the park,” Clay noted dryly.
“I’m sure you’re right, but this is her first...”
“And you’re worried about her.”
“I just thought I’d hang around for a while to keep an eye on her,” she said, unwilling to admit that her concern had progressed to the stage of worry.
“Do you think she’ll object if I go in to check on her?”
Antonia shook her head. “She won’t object, and I’d be grateful. I thought about calling Ace to come down just for that purpose, but he wouldn’t appreciate having his sleep interrupted for the sole purpose of reassuring me.”
“Is she yours?” Clay asked.
She smiled. “I think of them all as mine, but Daisy Mae is special to me. She was rejected by her dam and we didn’t have access to a nurse mare, so my mom stepped in. She stayed with her around the clock for the first week, feeding her from a bottle every two hours.
“Daisy Mae survived because my mom made sure of it. And if anything happened to her now...”
He nodded. It was never easy to lose an animal, but he understood that Antonia’s connection to Daisy Mae was stronger than most because she saw this mare as a last link to the mother she’d lost. And he was determined to do everything he could to protect that link.
Clay set down his now-empty coffee mug and stepped into the birthing stall. Daisy Mae’s eyes flickered in his direction and she whinnied nervously, as if seeking reassurance.
“Yo
u’re going to be okay, Daisy Mae,” he said as he knelt beside her.
Antonia remembered the wonder in his eyes and the awe in his voice when he’d placed his hand on her belly and felt the subtle movements of the baby inside of her. Obviously he had more experience with laboring animals than pregnant humans, because he showed absolutely no hesitation now, his hands moving confidently as he spoke to the mare in a low, soothing tone.
As Antonia watched him, she found herself wondering what it would be like to have someone at her side throughout labor and childbirth, and wishing that she didn’t have to face the experience on her own. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes, and quickly blinked them away.
If wishes were horses, she thought.
But she pushed the thought aside and refocused her thoughts on the laboring horse rather than futile fantasies.
“I think she’s going to be just fine,” Clay said, exiting the stall. “All we have to do is let nature take its course.”
Which it started to do then, in earnest, when the horse’s water broke.
“Here it goes,” Antonia murmured.
Clay reached for her hand, squeezed it reassuringly.
She held on, grateful for the comfort of his touch and his presence. She hadn’t wanted Daisy Mae to be alone, but she hadn’t wanted to be alone, either. She’d lost track of the number of births she’d witnessed on the ranch over the years, but Daisy Mae was special, and it meant a lot to her that she had someone with whom to share the experience.
And while the mare might have been a novice at the whole birthing thing, she pulled through like a pro.
Antonia had checked her watch when the membranes ruptured, and immediately began counting the minutes. With every contraction, Daisy Mae seemed to groan, and Antonia winced sympathetically. It seemed as if she was laboring forever with no progress, and just when Antonia was beginning to seriously worry, the foal’s front hooves appeared, then the nose, and within minutes after that, the rest of the baby appeared.
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