by Tina Leonard
Johnny laughed, raised a beer to Creed. “You know Aberdeen. She’s the kind of woman who’ll let a man hang himself with his own rope.”
Creed leaned back. “It’s dangerous dating a woman who’s fiercely independent.”
Johnny nodded. “Tell me about it.”
Creed gave him a jaundiced eye. “Oh, hell, no. You’re not dating anyone. Don’t give me that commiseration bit.”
“I’m hanging on,” Johnny said. “For the right one to come along and catch me.”
“Yeah, well, good luck,” Creed said. “I found the right one. She threw me back.”
“Patience is a virtue,” Johnny said, and Creed rolled his eyes. Patience was killing him. He’d never been a patient man. Fiona said that he’d always wanted everything he couldn’t have. He was a worker, a planner, a man of action—the crusader who rode into a forest and plucked out a maiden in the midst of battle, if need be, even before he discovered treasure and liberated it from the evil dragon.
Princess first. Ladies first. Absolutely, always.
At least that’s the way he’d always seen himself. Aberdeen had him sitting on the sidelines in his own fish story. He was chomping at the bit.
“Wanna dance, handsome?” Creed heard, and glanced up, fully prepared to wave off a charming and buxom beauty, only to realize she was staring at Johnny, her eyes fast to the man whom Creed had thought might be his brother-in-law one day.
“Mind if go do my duty?” Johnny asked Creed. “I hate to leave you here alone, nursing that dry bottle, but as you can see, duty calls, and it’s a beautiful thing.”
Creed waved the empty bottle at Johnny. “Never let grass grow under your feet.”
“Nor your ass, my friend,” Johnny said with a grin, and went off with a lovely lady dragging him under the strung lights and a full moon to join the other dancers.
Creed shifted, feeling as if grass might have grown under him, he’d sat here so long. Johnny was right: He was moping after Aberdeen. If he didn’t quit, he was going to end up Rip Van Winkle-ish, waking up one day to find time had passed and nothing had happened in his life. The phone wasn’t going to ring; Aberdeen wasn’t going to call.
He was waiting on a dream.
He had a baby on the way, a child who would bear his name. But he couldn’t force Aberdeen to love him.
He would just have to be happy with knowing that at least his future had a blessing promised to him. And he was going to be a hell of a father. Because he remembered how much it had hurt when he’d lost his own father, how much it had stung not to have a dad around on the big occasions. So maybe he couldn’t be a husband, and maybe his Cinderella had thrown her slipper at his heart, but this one thing he knew: He was going to wear a World’s Best Father T-shirt as if it was a king-size, golden, rodeo buckle.
And his kid would know he was there for him. Always.
Eight months later
ABERDEEN HAD GROWN like a pumpkin: blue-ribbon, State-Fair size. At least that’s the way she felt. Johnny worried about her incessantly. “You should have stayed, accepted the Callahans’ offer of employment, because you’re driving me nuts,” she told her brother.
“I could have,” Johnny said, turning on the Open sign at the bar door, “but my livelihood is here. I’ll admit I toyed briefly with the idea of staying in New Mexico and working with the Callahans. They seemed to need the help. And they sure know how to throw a heck of a dance. There were ladies from everywhere just dying to find a husband. I had a feeling if I’d hung around, Fiona might have fixed me up with a wife, too. From what I’ve gleaned over the past several months, no weddings went off and no one got caught, though.”
Aberdeen wondered if Johnny was trying to reassure her that no one had caught Creed. She decided to stay away from that painful subject. She nodded at his pleased grin. “You could use someone looking after you.”
“Women are not that simple, as I know too well.” Johnny smiled and wiped off the bar. “No, it was fun at the time, and I enjoyed the break, but I had to be near my new nephew.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know the sex of the baby. Quit angling for a hint.”
Johnny laughed. “Okay. So what happens when the baby is born?”
“I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing. Occasionally preaching, working here, looking for a house.”
Her answer was slightly evasive because she knew Johnny was asking about Creed. The truth was, she never stopped thinking about him. Yet she knew their bargain had been a fairy tale. He’d been grateful to her and Johnny; he’d wanted to help her out. She wouldn’t have felt right keeping him tied to an agreement for which there was no longer a need.
“As soon as that baby is born, you know he’s going to be here.”
Aberdeen nodded. “That’s fine.” She was over her broken heart—mostly. “You know what the bonus is in all this? Diane is happy at the Callahan ranch. Her daughters are flourishing.”
At that Johnny had to smile. He flew down there once a month to visit the girls and Diane, always bringing back reports of astonishing growth and learning skills. Teeth coming in. New steps taken. First pony rides. He’d even taken their parents down to visit once. They’d been impressed with the girls’ new environment, and the change in Diane.
Johnny never mentioned Creed when he took his monthly sojourn to New Mexico, and Aberdeen never asked. She knew he would come to visit his baby. It would be the right thing, for the baby’s sake. And he would want his baby to spend time at Rancho Diablo. It will all work out, Aberdeen told herself. We’re two adults, and can make this work. We are not Diane and her ex-husbands, who turned out to be sloths and degenerates of the first order. Creed will be an excellent father.
She turned her mind away from Creed and back to the new sermon she was writing. After the baby was born, she intended to go back to school for some additional theology classes. The bar would bring in some income as she did the books for Johnny, and then she could afford a separate house.
It might not be the kind of situation she’d dreamed of with her concussed cowboy—but those had been just dreams, and she knew the difference between dreams and real life.
She went upstairs to the temporary nursery, smiling at the few things she’d put in the small room. A white crib, with white sheets and a white comforter. A lacy white valance over the small window. Diapers, a rocker, some tiny baby clothes in neutral colors: yellow, white, aqua.
It had seemed better not to know if she was having a boy or a girl. She would love either.
In fact, she couldn’t wait.
Voices carried up the stairs. Johnny was welcoming some customers. She’d be glad to find her own little house, she realized. Something about having a baby made her feel protective, made her need her own space.
Her tummy jumped with a spasm, bringing another smile to Aberdeen’s face. This was an active child, always on the go. The ob/gyn had said that Aberdeen needed to take it easy; the baby could come any day now.
It was too hard to sit and wait, though. The feeling of nesting and wanting everything just right had grown too great for her to ignore. She touched the baby’s tiny pillow, soft satin, and told herself that in a few days, she’d be holding her own precious child.
“Aberdeen,” a deep voice said, and she whirled around.
“Creed,” she said, so astonished she couldn’t say anything else. Her heart took off with a million tiny tremors. The baby jumped again, almost as if recognizing that its father had walked into the room.
“I bribed Johnny to let me up here without telling you I was here. Blame me for that, but I wanted to surprise you.”
“I’ll yell at him later,” Aberdeen said.
His gaze fell to her stomach. Aberdeen put a hand over her stomach, almost embarrassed at her size.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t, and she knew it. Her dress was a loan from a mother in her congregation. She hadn’t wanted to spend money on clothes when she was
too big to fit into much other than a burlap potato sack, the kind that could hold a hundred pounds of potatoes easily. “Why are you here?” she asked, not meaning to sound rude, but so shocked by his sudden appearance that she couldn’t make decent conversation.
She’d never been so happy to see anybody in her entire life. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and squeal for joy that he’d come.
But she couldn’t.
“I came to see you. And my baby,” he said. “I didn’t want to miss you having the baby.”
She swallowed. “Any day now. I guess Johnny told you.”
Creed smiled. “He gives me the occasional update.”
Drat her brother. “I guess I should have known he would.”
“So this is the nursery?”
She ran a hand proudly along the crib rail. “For now. At least until I find a small house.”
He nodded. He gazed at her for a long time. Then he said, “I’ve missed you.”
She blinked, not expecting him to say anything like that. “I—”
He held up a hand. “It was just an observation. Not said to pen you into a corner.”
She shook her head. “I know.”
Another cramp hit her stomach. Her hands went reflexively to her tummy.
“Are you all right?” Creed asked, and she nodded.
“I think I’ll go lie down. It’s good to see you, Creed,” she said. “Thanks for coming.”
He nodded. “Guess I’ll go bug Johnny. He’s promised to teach me how to make an Expectant Father cocktail.”
“Oh, boy,” Aberdeen said, backing toward the door. “You two just party on.”
She disappeared into the hallway, but as she left, she glanced over her shoulder at Creed. He was staring at her, his gaze never leaving her—and if she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he looked worried.
If he was worried, it was because of the baby. He’d never said he loved her, never told her anything except that he’d take care of her and Diane’s daughters, so she knew she’d done the right thing by letting him go.
Another cramp hit her, this one tightening her abdomen strangely, and Aberdeen went to check her overnight bag, just in case.
“SO, DID THE HEART GROW FONDER in absentia?” Johnny asked.
Creed shook his head and slid onto a bar stool across from Johnny. “Can never tell with Aberdeen. She keeps so much hidden.”
“Have confidence,” Johnny said, putting a glass in front of him, “and a New Papa cocktail.”
“I thought you were going to teach me about Expectant Father cocktails.”
Johnny grinned and poured some things into the glass. Creed had no idea what the man was putting in there, but he hoped it took the edge off his nerves. He’d waited eight long months to lay eyes on Aberdeen again, and the shock, well, the shock had darn near killed him.
He’d never stopped loving her. Not one tiny inch, not one fraction of an iota. If he’d thought he had any chance with her, any at all, he’d ask her to marry him tonight.
And this time he’d spend hours telling her how much he loved her, just the same way he’d spent hours making love to her. Only now, he’d do it with a megaphone over his heart.
“Give her a moment to think,” Johnny said, “and drink this. It’s for patience. You’re going to need it.”
“I’ve never had to chase a woman this hard,” Creed grumbled. “I’m pretty sure even a shot from Cupid’s quiver wouldn’t have helped. The shame of it is, I know she likes me.”
Johnny laughed. “No, this is a drink for patience as you wait to become a father. The doctor said today was her due date. Did I mention that?”
“No,” Creed said, feeling his heart rate rise considerably. “All you said was today was a great day to get my ass up here. Thanks, you old dog. Now I think I’m going to have heart failure.”
“You are a weak old thing, aren’t you?” Johnny laughed again. “Relax, dude. I predict within the next week, you’ll be holding your own bouncing bundle of joy.”
Creed felt faint. He took a slug of the drink and winced. “That’s horrible. What is it?”
“A little egg, a little Tabasco, a little bit of this and that. Protein, to keep your strength up.”
Creed frowned. “Ugh. It’s not going to keep my strength up, it’s going to bring my lunch up.”
“Trust me on this. It grows on you.”
Creed shuddered. And then he froze as Aberdeen’s voice carried down the stairs. “Johnny?”
“Yeah?” her brother hollered up the stairs.
“I think perhaps you might bring the truck around.”
Creed felt his jaw give. His gaze locked on Johnny. “What does that mean? Is that code for kick me out?”
“No.” Johnny flipped the open sign to Closed and locked the door. “I think it means she wants to make a little run to the county hospital.”
Creed blinked. He felt fainter. “What am I supposed to do?” He jumped up from the bar stool. “Should I carry something? Help her pack?”
Johnny said, “Hold on,” and went upstairs.
A moment later, he came back down. “You might jog up there and keep an eye on her while I bring the truck around. I’ll meet you out back in a minute.”
Creed’s anxiety hit high gear when he realized Johnny was totally rattled. The man knocked over a liquor bottle and broke a glass—Creed had never seen him anything but sure-handed around his bar—in his haste to put things away.
But he didn’t hang around to analyze his friend. He shot up the stairs to check on Aberdeen. She sat on the bed, looking puzzled.
“Do you need something?” he asked. “A glass of water? A…hell, I don’t know. What can I do?”
“Nothing,” Aberdeen said, panting a little. “Except I have some concerns.”
“Shoot,” he said, “I’m your listening ear.”
She gave him a wry gaze. “Are you going to want to be in the delivery room?”
“Nothing could keep me out of there,” he said, “unless you don’t want me, in which case I’m not above bribing you.”
Aberdeen started to laugh, then quit abruptly. “Ugh. Don’t make any jokes.”
“I’m not joking in the least. I have to be there every step of the way.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “You can’t look under the sheet, and if things get tricky, you have to leave. Deal?”
“I don’t know,” he said, “you didn’t keep to our last deal. I don’t guess I can trust you with another one unless it’s in writing.”
“Creed!” Aberdeen said, looking like she was torn between laughing and crying.
“Oh, all right,” he said, “although I reserve the right to judge what is tricky.”
“If I say go, then you go,” Aberdeen explained, with another gasp and a pant.
He sighed. “You’ll want me there. Pete’s already told me that my main role is to bring you ice chips and let you squeeze the skin off my fingers. Oh, and if you cuss me out, I’m to ignore all that and tell you how beautiful you are, and how you’re the most wonderful woman in the world.”
Aberdeen groaned. “If you can do all that, you’ll be a true prince.”
A truck horn honked outside, and Creed helped Aberdeen to her feet. “Guess I got here in the nick of time,” he said, to make conversation. “Isn’t that what princes do? Show up to help the fair damsel?”
Aberdeen didn’t say anything for a moment.
But then she looked up at him, about halfway down the stairs. “Thank you for being here,” she told him, and Creed’s heart soared.
Maybe, just maybe…
Chapter Nineteen
“I can’t believe my mother had six of us,” Creed said, after Aberdeen let out a loud groan. “Can’t she have some medication to dull the pain?”
“She’s too far along,” the nurse said.
“Can I have some pain medication?” Creed asked.
The nurse smiled at him, at the edge of tolerance. �
�Perhaps you’d like to go sit outside in the waiting area. We’ll take good care of Mrs. Callahan.”
Aberdeen let out another gasp. Creed’s gaze flew to her, his teasing spirit gone. He was panicked. There seemed to be a lot of pain involved, and he hadn’t meant to do this to her. She was never going to become Mrs. Callahan.
She was going to hate him forever.
He went through his litany of jobs Pete had suggested: Ice chips, tell her she’s beautiful, stay out of the way except when she wants to squeeze your fingers to the bone. Try to be helpful. Try.
Creed stayed at the bedside, scared out of his wits. Good-and-stomped cowboys suffered, but even they hadn’t seemed to be in this much agony.
Creed closed his eyes and prayed.
Thirty minutes later, Aberdeen gave one final shriek that went through Creed—he seemed to feel her every pain—and suddenly the doctor smiled with satisfaction.
“It’s a girl,” the doctor said, and Creed went light-headed. He sank onto a chair as nurses scurried to clean up baby and Aberdeen. He was out of breath; there was no more strength in his body.
Then it hit him. The baby that was squalling up a storm and being fussed over by the nurses was his. He jumped to his feet and hurried over to get a glimpse.
She was beautiful.
He went to tell Aberdeen. His heart constricted as he saw how exhausted she was.
“How are you doing?” he asked, and Aberdeen gave him a wan smile.
“How are you?” she asked. “I thought you were going to fade on me.”
“No,” he said. “I’m tough. Not as tough as you, though. You win.” He bent down and kissed her on the lips, so she’d know she was beautiful. A kiss seemed to express his feelings better at this moment than words.
Then he remembered he was in this predicament because he’d never said the words (Sam’s shot about clairvoyance came to mind), so he just threw himself out on the ledge. “You’re beautiful,” he told her. “I may never get you pregnant again, but I want you to know that I love you fiercely, Aberdeen Donovan. And this may not be the time to tell you, but if you don’t put my ring back on your finger and marry me, I’m going to…I’m going to cry like my daughter.”