The Rancher's Expectant Christmas

by Karen Templeton

  Somehow, she obeyed, and he hooked his gaze in hers and started breathing slowly, deeply, encouraging her to follow his example, even as it nearly killed him to see how much pain she was in. How scared she was. And not, he didn’t think, only about giving birth.

  And at that moment, he hated the jerkwad who’d done this to her with the heat of a thousand suns. The jerkwad who obviously didn’t give a damn about her or his daughter.

  Even stronger than the heat, though, feelings Josh couldn’t even identify rippled through him, that the woman the jerkwad had done this to had chosen to have this baby, raise this baby, love this baby...

  That Dee had more courage than the jerkwad could even dream about, a thought that made a knot swell in Josh’s throat.

  After what seemed like a year, the contraction let up, and Josh figured he had a pretty narrow opportunity to get her someplace other than the damn tub to have this baby.

  Which begged the question, “Why are you standing in the tub, anyway?”

  “Trying to figure out how to get these wet pants off. Seemed as logical a place as any. Except now...” She shrugged. He got it.

  “You okay with me doing the honors?”

  “You really have to ask? And how do you know about breathing?”

  “Mom has these movies, Levi and I got curious one day. Okay. I won’t look, I promise.”

  “Believe me—right now, I do not care who sees what. I just want this kid out of me.”

  “We can do that,” he said, proud of how confident he sounded, even as worry replaced the pain in those big brown eyes.

  “I’m not gonna make it to the birthing center, am I?”

  “That would be my guess,” he said, crouching to help her remove the soggy pants. “Roads are already pretty slick.”

  “And it was such a great birth plan, too,” she muttered, and he smiled.

  “Although the good news is my mother’s on her way.”

  Dee’s forehead bunched as her hands tightened around his shoulders. “What? How? When—”

  “Val.” He tugged as gently as he could, but the only experience he’d had with getting wet bottoms off a wet bottom was with skinny little boys. Not curvy nonboys. With giant, baby-filled bellies. “She had an inkling something was going on, so she called you after she left, to check. But—” the soaked pants landed with a plop in the bottom of the tub “—you weren’t answering your phone. So she called me. And my mother. And apparently half the county. Okay, put your arms around my neck and hang on,” he said, scooping her up into his arms before she had a chance to realize those arms were against her bare bottom. And for him to fully register how heavy a full-term pregnant woman was. Damn.

  His phone went off again, buzzing against his chest. “Get it out of my pocket,” he said, trying not to grunt as he carried Dee over to her bed.

  “It’s your mother.”

  “Who you probably need to talk to more right now than I do.”

  “Good point. Hey, Billie,” she said as Josh lowered her to the bed as gently as his muscles would let him. “Uh-huh...yep, he made it...a little while ago...every two minutes, maybe...no, not yet.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, she handed him the phone. “She wants to talk to you.”

  “So the roads are total crap,” Mom said in his ear as Dee’s face crumpled again. Josh mimed steady breathing, but she wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention. “Although I’m doing my best to get there. How close do you think she is—”

  “Oh! Oh!” Dee grabbed for his hand, nearly cutting off his circulation. “Oh, man, do I want to push!”

  “Never mind, I heard. Okay, listen to me. It could still be a while yet. Although considering how fast things are already moving, maybe not.” Yeah, not encouraging. “So put your phone on speaker,” Mom said, “I’m gonna talk you through it. Josh? You hear me?”

  He did as she asked. “Got it. Okay, on speaker now.”

  “Good. Now go get a bunch of towels to put underneath Dee and wash your hands. Y’all got a baby to welcome into the world!”

  At Dee’s halfhearted giggle, something shifted inside Josh, replacing the last scraps of fear with something far more powerful. More important. He thought about all times in her life men had let her down or abandoned her or shut her out or whatever.

  Damned if his name was about to get added to that list.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached out to cup her jaw, earning him a very startled glance.

  “Let’s do this, sweetheart,” he said, and her trembling smile broke his heart.

  * * *

  Listening to the snow softly snick against the bedroom window, Deanna shifted the solid little bundle in her arms to kiss her silky forehead for probably the hundredth time since her birth two hours before.

  She couldn’t stop looking at her perfect little daughter.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about Josh.

  But most of all she couldn’t unknot her thoughts long enough to figure out which of them were worth hanging on to and which needed to be ditched. Like cleaning out the closet in her head.

  Especially now, when Josh sat on the edge of the bed, softly chuckling when Katie screwed up her tiny face, her mouth puckering into an itty bitty O. Billie had finally arrived an hour after Katie did, basically to “tidy up,” she said, since the birth had been textbook perfect, and was now in the kitchen tending to that casserole Deanna hadn’t gotten around to making. But right here, right now, it was just the three of them cocooned in her bedroom while the out-of-nowhere storm continued its assault on the landscape outside.

  As her memories of this amazing experience—of Josh—assaulted her from within.

  He’d been her rock through the whole thing, not even flinching when the sensation of pushing out a cannonball might’ve made her scream, a little. Okay, a lot. Not to mention childbirth was a messy business. Hadn’t even fazed him. Then again, he was a rancher, the man knew from messy. Also, she supposed this was fitting payback for the time she’d had to mop up his blood after he’d whacked his head on an unseen tree branch when they’d been out riding. Gosh, she’d forgotten all about that. How old had she been? Twelve? Thirteen—

  “I’ve seen you make faces exactly like that,” he said, and she looked at him looking at the baby, her little spidery fingers curled around his index finger, and thought, Hell.

  “Hey,” Josh said gently, his gaze shifting to hers. “What’s with the tears?”

  “Hormones, probably,” Deanna said, trying to smile, even as a whole new slew of feelings threatened to take her under. Because in that sweet, tough gaze she saw...everything. Everything she’d ever wanted, everything she didn’t dare let herself want. Because what good ever came from looking to someone else to fill the blanks in your life? Your heart. Even someone who’d been there for her in a way no man, no one, ever had.

  Even if for only this moment—

  “I think I’m transfixed,” he said, and Deanna smiled.

  “Tell me about it.”

  Grinning, Josh propped his fist against the mattress on the other side of Deanna’s legs, cupping the baby’s capped head with his free hand. A hand that gripped reins and tickled little boys and hammered fence rails into place, banged up and scarred and callused, the nails jagged. Real. Like the rest of him—

  “I missed this with Austin,” he said quietly.

  Deanna swallowed, then frowned. “How old was he when you first saw him?”

  “Two weeks? Something like that.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope. Apparently Jordan had been having second thoughts.”

  “About?”

  “Including me in our child’s life,” he said, tenderly stroking Katie’s downy cheek. “Until she realized she was in way over her head, trying to do it by herself.”
/>   Deanna felt her face warm. “Some women can, you know.”

  His gaze flicked to hers, then away. “Some women, yeah. Not Jordan. Of course I had no idea when she showed up with this wailing baby that ‘not doing it all by herself’ would eventually turn into ‘not doing any of it.’ Although to be truthful I wasn’t surprised. Gal definitely wasn’t the maternal type.”

  “And you are,” Deanna said, and Josh chuckled.

  “Apparently so. Still. For a long time it irked me, that I missed seeing my son’s entrance. That Jordan stole that from me.”

  “You still angry with her?”

  “For leaving?” His head wagged. “Not so much anymore. Although I was at first. For Austin’s sake, though, not mine. Frankly it was a relief, not having to deal with all that negativity.” He sat up straighter to face her, his half smile masking his pain even less than his words. “But people are who they are. No sense hanging on to bad feelings about stuff you can’t change. People you can’t change.” A soft laugh puffed through his lips. “I may’ve been stupid as hell, but at least I learned something from the experience.”

  “Which was?”

  “To be a lot more careful about who I get involved with. Making sure we’re on the same page about stuff. Or at least compatible. Honesty, too. That’s a biggie. If not the biggie. If Jordan and I had been up front with each other from the beginning...” He humphed. “Of course I wouldn’t have Austin, so there is that.”

  Deanna was quiet for a long moment, watching her sleeping daughter. Thinking about what Josh had just said about compatibility. Being on the same page.

  Honesty.

  “I’m glad you were here,” she said softly, her gaze flicking over the freshly painted wall, now devoid of Lorelai’s and Rory’s grinning faces. “Not just grateful, I don’t mean that. Although I am. But...” Her insides melted at his slightly puzzled smile. “But that you were here to share this with me. That it was you.”

  And she meant it. Sure, it hurt that neither of her parents were still alive to meet their granddaughter. But not once, not even for a split second, had she found herself regretting Phillippe’s absence. Not even right after the baby’s birth and it was Josh, not the baby’s father, wrapping her up and putting her on Deanna’s chest. That it was Josh grinning like hot stuff at the two of them, not the man who’d gotten her pregnant. Yes, what’d happened with Phillippe was ten kinds of wrong, no getting around that. And she doubted she’d ever forgive herself for being so naive. But Josh being here couldn’t have been more right.

  Another second or so passed before he said, “I’m glad I was here, too. But not nearly as glad that you didn’t have this kid in the barn.”

  Deanna laughed. “You’re glad? Believe me, the Mary-in-the-stable scenario was definitely not on my agenda. Hey, buddy,” she said when Thor cautiously clicked into the room, his tail wagging when he came over to the bed, sniffing. He’d stayed well out of the way until now, most likely because her yelling had scared the bejeebers out of the poor dog. “It’s okay, puppy, come see the new person. That’s right, come on...”

  When the dog inched closer, Josh carefully scooped Katie out of Deanna’s arms—and yes, she felt the loss immediately—to lower the baby so the dog could check her out.

  “Whaddya think, guy? Cute, huh?”

  The baby squeaked and the dog cocked his head...then bowed, butt in air, and barked, his tail madly wagging.

  “Sorry, dude,” Josh said, chuckling as he gave the baby back to Deanna, his breath soft in her hair, his scent making her heart stutter. “She’s too little to play.” The dog barked again. “Yes, seriously—”

  “So how’re we doing in here?” Billie said from the doorway.

  “Good.” Deanna smiled down at her daughter, her heart turning over in her chest. “Really good.”

  “I can see that. Josh, why don’t you take little bit for a moment so I can check out mama? Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

  “Glad to,” he said, gathering Katie in his arms again, and Deanna watched Josh leave the room with her daughter, her heart constricting at how carefully he held her, his gentle smile as he talked silly to her the same way he did with his son. Billie sat on the edge of the bed to take Deanna’s blood pressure, nodding in apparent approval at the reading.

  “See? All you needed to do was give birth.”

  Deanna chuckled, then sighed. “Your son was...amazing.”

  “No surprise there. Boy never has been shy about stepping up, doing whatever needed doing.”

  “Like with Austin, you mean?”

  “With anything.” She stuffed the blood pressure cuff back in the bag she’d left earlier on the nightstand. “He even helped with Granville’s nursing care, there at the end. Before poor Gus keeled over from exhaustion. Spent every night with him, sleeping in the chair beside your daddy’s bed.”

  “He did? I didn’t know that.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me, either. Okay, let me just check to make sure everything’s as it should be, then Josh can bring your daughter back...”

  A minute later—all was well—Deanna repositioned herself and said, “How is it even possible to love something—someone—that much?”

  Billie gave her a weird look. “Funny how that happens, huh? Now let’s get some food in you, mama...”

  * * *

  A few days later, Josh came through the back door after picking up Austin from his folks’ house to find Dee standing at the stove with the baby strapped to her front, stirring something that smelled like angels had been cooking. As usual her phone was docked to the Bluetooth adapter on the counter, filling the kitchen with a huge chorus belting out some Christmas carol. As was she, pausing every so often to “conduct” with the wooden spoon. She stopped midnote, though, when Austin giggled, grinning for the boy when he ran over to her to wrap his arms around her hips.

  Her expression soft as an angel’s, she cupped Austin’s snow-flecked hair. “You have a good day, cutie-pie?”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, then pulled away to stand on tiptoe, trying to see into the pot. “What’s that?”

  “Soup,” she said, gently tugging him away from the stove. “With all kinds of yummy things in it.”

  “Like what?”

  “Oh...chicken and corn and carrots. Among other things. Whatever I could find. There’s also corn bread. And brownies for dessert.”

  Austin made a face. “With nuts?”

  Dee laughed. “Only on top. I’ll be happy to eat yours if you don’t want ’em.”

  “’Kay—”

  “But only if you try the soup,” Josh said, hanging up his barn coat on the hook by the door. “And go wash your hands.”

  “But I washed ’em at Grandma’s!”

  “When?”

  Screwing up his face, he scratched his head. “Before lunch?”

  “Then you get to wash them again. Go on, scoot.”

  Sighing mightily, the kid slogged off to the half bath and Josh came nearer to get a better smell. Of dinner, Dee, whatever. Yeah, the soup wasn’t the only thing getting stirred, that was for sure. And wasn’t it crazy, how much he wanted to slip his arm around her waist, nestle his chin on her shoulder to see the baby. Who was sound asleep, all cuddled next to mama like that.

  Instead he settled for grabbing a clean spoon out of the drawer and snitching a sample taste.

  “Hey!”

  “Damn, this is good.”

  Even though she didn’t look at him, he could see the smile toying with her mouth. “Thanks. Like I said, it’s just stuff I found in the pantry or whatever. You can make soup out of pretty much anything.”

  “You can make soup out of pretty much anything. But might I remind you, you just gave birth three days ago?”

  The look she shot him had Seri
ously? written all over it. “It’s dinner, Josh. Not plowing the back forty. I think I’m good. Also I was bored out of my ever-loving mind. Newborn babies aren’t exactly great conversationalists.”

  Smiling, Josh cupped Katie’s little head, cocooned in a knit cap barely big enough to cover his fist, a move that brought him even closer to her mother. A move that apparently made Dee suck in a sharp little breath, like he was breaching some boundary or other. Although if you asked him any and all boundaries had already been breached three nights ago when he’d helped guide this little person into the world.

  But, you know. Women.

  “I have news,” she said quietly, staring at the bubbling soup, and Josh removed his hand, stuffing it in his pocket.

  “Oh?”

  “I sort of got a job offer today.”

  “I thought you had a job.”

  “Okay, a better job offer.” She rattled the lid back on the soup pot. “Much better, actually.”

  Josh frowned. “What? Where?”

  Finally her gaze met his. “From another gallery in DC. One of those crazy things, someone knew someone who’d attended one of our showings, of an artist who was apparently very appreciative of my work, and long story short...totally out of the blue, this gallery owner emailed me, asking me if I’d consider coming to work for him. As in, big-time gallery owner, someone who showcases artists who’ve already arrived.”

  Quashing what felt ridiculously like disappointment, Josh gripped the counter edge behind him and said evenly, “You gonna take it?”

  Dee turned to reach for soup bowls in the cupboard next to the stove. “Aside from the salary, which is already twice what I’m making, the commission potential...it’s really good. Theoretically I could make as much from the sale of one work as I now do from selling three or four.”

  “Wow.”

  “I know, right? I was totally up front with him, though, said I had a new baby, wouldn’t even be back until probably sometime in January, and wanted to work flexible hours.” She set the bowls on the table. “He seemed fine with all of it.”

  And she seemed...not that excited, actually. “So...what’s the problem?”