Baby My Baby (A Ranching Family)

by Pade, Victoria

  Why, exactly? she wondered, staring up at the ceiling.

  There wasn’t anything he could do. It wasn’t as if he could take a turn carrying this baby. Any involvement on his part couldn’t happen until the child was born, and that wouldn’t be for months yet. So what was the point?

  Maybe he’d come just to let her know how unhappy about it he was.

  After all, she knew he’d been against their having kids of their own. On the few occasions when the subject had come up, he’d talked about adopting hard-to-place Indian babies at risk of being given to people outside of their culture when homes with Native American parents couldn’t be found.

  But he’d only spoken of it as something far down the road, when he wasn’t so busy with work, and Beth hadn’t believed that it would ever happen, that Ash would ever have time to be a father to any child.

  Any more than he’d had the time to be a husband.

  The trouble she’d had reaching him to tell him she was pregnant wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sometimes she thought he must believe there wasn’t another person in the world who could deal with the problems and causes of Native Americans. Maybe it was a cliché, but it was true that the man had been more married to his work than to her.

  The Blackwolf Foundation. Demanding wife, exacting mistress and needy child, all rolled into one package.

  Ash was head of an organization he’d established with a portion of the substantial estate he’d inherited from his paternal grandfather.

  Beth had never met her former husband’s namesake. The man had been dead several years when she and Ash first encountered each other, but she knew he’d been a renowned and very successful metal sculptor who had amassed a fortune late in life, a fortune large enough to make Ash a wealthy man and still help fund the foundation.

  And the foundation did good work. Valid work. Necessary work in areas of drug and alcohol rehabilitation, in programs that trained Native Americans for better jobs, in family counseling, in aid for the needy, in college grants and scholarships, as well as keeping an eye on legislation that might help or hinder the rights of Indians, and helping to find legal representation for Native American individuals or businesses that ran into problems.

  And Ash did it all.

  He was a hands-on kind of person. When there was a problem—and there was always a problem somewhere—he was right there to see what could be done.

  She admired that about him. She respected his devotion to the plights of his people. She was impressed that a person who could easily have used his inheritance to become a man of leisure was instead the first person to roll up his sleeves and dig in.

  But it made for a lousy husband.

  As the years had passed she’d come to feel almost like an incidental speck in the corner of the much bigger picture of his life.

  His secretary had been more involved with him than Beth had. At least the daunting Miss Lightfeather always knew where he was at any given moment and how to reach him. Beth had rarely known even that.

  There had been many times in the past when one crisis ran into another commitment that overlapped yet another engagement or responsibility and kept Ash away for so long that she’d begin to wonder if he even remembered he had a wife.

  She’d tried hard to keep busy with her own work, but accounting was a nine-to-five job for the most part, and it still left her with long evenings and weekends alone.

  She’d volunteered for his pet projects and programs, hoping that immersing herself in his causes, his interests, might bring them together.

  He’d appreciated that, welcomed her help and her contribution, but before long he’d start to act as if she were his delegate, leaving her to represent him while he went on to other pressing obligations.

  She’d made friends and built a social life, but somehow it wasn’t enough. Something was missing from her life.

  And then, late one night, she’d realized she was just plain lonely. Deep down, depressingly lonely.

  The oddest thing about it was that it had happened after a terrific round of lovemaking.

  Not that their lovemaking wasn’t always terrific. It was. It was the one thing in their marriage that was an unqualified success. But each encounter in bed only made her hungry for more of him. More time with him. The chance to really get to know him. To talk to him. To have a life together.

  But that never happened and for some reason, that night, she’d finally accepted that it never would. That she’d never be first on his list of priorities. And she’d finally admitted to herself that she couldn’t accept it any longer.

  She’d sat up the rest of the night and when his alarm went off at five the next morning, she’d told him she was divorcing him.

  And he hadn’t really argued.

  Beth swallowed back the lump that memory could still put in her throat.

  He’d moved in with his maternal grandfather while Beth filed the necessary papers and finished tax season, wrapping up her job and her life on the reservation at about the same time the final decree was handed down.

  Then she’d packed her things. And, for the first time, she’d begun to wonder about some of what was happening to her physically. And what wasn’t happening, and hadn’t for a long while.

  So, just before she was set to leave, she’d gone in to see Cele.

  That was when her friend and doctor had told her that missed periods and fatigue were not because of the stress of divorcing a man she would have rather had a future with.

  So this is what has to happen to get him to take notice, she thought.

  Unfortunately, it was too late.

  Too late for anything more than wondering if things would be different had she known on that last night they’d made love that she was already carrying his child.

  Beth got out of bed and pulled on the clothes she’d been wearing when she’d arrived. How much easier it would be if she’d divorced Ash because she didn’t have any feelings for him anymore. Because she wasn’t attracted to him anymore. Because sparks couldn’t be ignited between them.

  But the fact that she still cared didn’t change anything.

  She’d learned very well what being married to him was like and there was no going back to it.

  Not that Ash would even want her back.

  * * *

  The sound of her brother’s voice drifted to Beth even before she reached her friend’s kitchen. Linc was teasing Kansas about how deprived he’d felt not seeing her the night before.

  When Beth joined them she found Linc sitting on a kitchen chair with Kansas on his lap. The evidence of their playful affection gave her an instant twinge of jealousy that she fought back.

  “Morning,” she said to announce herself.

  “Hi,” Kansas responded with a laugh in her voice as Linc nibbled her earlobe. Then she pushed out of his arms and stood.

  Beth was grateful for that.

  “How about some breakfast?” Kansas offered. “I’ll make you pancakes and top them with powdered sugar and a few sprinkles of fresh squeezed orange juice like we used to have after our sleepovers when we were kids.”

  Beth smiled at the memory. She and Kansas had grown up together, but their friendship had really blossomed when they were teenagers. They’d spent a lot of time together through junior high and high school, then drifted apart when they’d gone off to different colleges and over the years that followed. But it was good to rekindle that friendship now. Especially when Beth really needed a friend.

  What she didn’t need was food. Her stomach was still in knots. “Let’s do our special pancakes another time. I’m not hungry right now.”

  “Coffee? Tea? Milk?”

  “Nothing. Thanks.”

  Kansas refilled Linc’s cup and then sat on a separate chair. Beth took a third, all the while feeling strongly her brother’s unwavering stare.

  “I think you got things confused last night, Liz-a-Beth,” he finally said, using the name he’d teased her with when they were kids, clearly mean
ing to soften the chastising tone in his voice. “I was supposed to come here to be with Kansas and you should have been the one with Ash.”

  Beth grimaced. “How did it go?”

  “It was no party, I’ll tell you that. We didn’t know what the hell to say to him and he sat there waiting for you damn near till midnight. I couldn’t leave him alone with Jackson and the only way I could get him out of there was to give him my word I’d try convincing you to see him today.”

  “What about convincing him to go back to the reservation?”

  “I let him know that’s what you wanted him to do. But he’s not budging.” Linc frowned at her. “And I can’t say as I blame him. In his shoes there’s no way I would.”

  “I thought you were on my side.”

  “I am, I am,” he assured her halfheartedly. “I just don’t understand what your side is, exactly.”

  “What’s Ash’s side?” she asked rather than explaining herself.

  “Well, I don’t know that, either. I only know that if my wife were pregnant with my baby and ran out the back door rather than talking to me about it, I’d want to turn her over my knee.”

  Was he telling her that was what Ash wanted to do? That he was that angry? “I’m not his wife. Not anymore,” she said defensively, as if that were an answer that made sense.

  “That’s just splittin’ hairs,” Linc said.

  “Don’t you think you should talk to him, Beth?” Kansas put in quietly, breaking the silence she’d held until then.

  “Yes, I know I should,” Beth grumbled, more to herself than to either of them.

  “Should nothing, he isn’t going to let you get away with not talking to him,” Linc warned her.

  Beth rolled her eyes. “I said everything I needed to in the letter I wrote him. I don’t know what else he wants to hear.”

  “Maybe he has something to say to you.”

  That tightened the knots in her stomach.

  Linc went on, “He was going from our place to the hunting lodge to take a cabin there. We could have put him up but—”

  “Oh, I’m glad you didn’t.” Beth breathed out a gust of panicky air at just the thought. Wouldn’t that have been grand? She could have had Ash in the bedroom right next to hers. She’d have met him coming and going at all hours of the day and night; she’d have had to see him the way he was at home—relaxed, casual, sexy, appealing...

  “It was definitely better that you didn’t invite him to stay at the ranch,” she reiterated firmly, as if it still might be a possibility.

  “I felt rude and inhospitable not asking him to, but between you running out and Jackson all het up over this thing, I didn’t think I’d better.”

  “Jackson didn’t hit him again, did he?” Beth asked, her concern sounding.

  “No. Just the one punch. In fact, he calmed down considerably when he realized it wasn’t as if Ash was denying his responsibilities. But still, I didn’t think it was a good idea to have Ash close at hand in case he did something else Jackson might take offense to. You know how he is. He always thought he needed to fight your battles for you.”

  “I hope this won’t be a battle.”

  Linc’s expression said he didn’t see it being anything but.

  It made Beth wonder yet again just how unhappy Ash was about her pregnancy.

  But there was no sense sitting around worrying about it. Even if she was susceptible to just the sight of her former husband, Shag had taught her to ignore weaknesses like that. And certainly not to let anyone else see them. Running out the night before had been a show of weakness. It wasn’t something she was proud of.

  She had to tough this out, she told herself. And that was what she was going to do.

  Besides, apparently Ash wasn’t leaving, and if she had to deal with him sooner or later, it might as well be sooner.

  She laid both of her palms on the tabletop and pushed herself to her feet. “Do me a favor and call him at the lodge, would you? Tell him to come back out to the ranch in an hour. That’ll give me a chance to shower and put on clean clothes.” And having her brother make the call would buy her that much more time before she had to actually talk to Ash herself.

  Linc eyed her suspiciously. “You aren’t just stalling so you can go home, pack a bag and leave town, are you?”

  Tempting thought. But it would only postpone the inevitable and she knew it. At that moment she was wishing she’d have stayed to confront her former husband the night before. Maybe he’d be on his way back to the reservation by now if she had. “I’ll be at the ranch when he gets there,” she assured.

  Then she thanked Kansas for the refuge and left, trying not to notice that the knots in her stomach had turned to all-out jitters.

  * * *

  An hour didn’t give her much time, and once she was back at the ranch, Beth rushed through her shower.

  Choosing what to wear took longer. She had a bit of a stomach but not so much that she couldn’t still wear some of her regular clothes as long as they were fairly loose fitting.

  She didn’t want to appear dressed up, but she didn’t want to look sloppy, either, so in the end she opted for a tunic T-shirt and a pair of stirrup pants that she thought looked casually chic.

  Her hair air-dried and required only some scrunching with her hand to give it bounce. But she was careful about the makeup she applied. A touch of pale eye shadow, just enough mascara to darken her lashes, and a hint of lipstick. She’d have used blush, too, but again this morning her color was naturally high and she didn’t need it.

  All in all, she was pleased with the results, and though she told herself it shouldn’t matter, it did. Regardless of how she felt about this meeting, it was important to her that she seem cool, calm, collected. And if one look at her made Ash think he’d been a fool to take her for granted? Well, great! It wouldn’t change anything, but she wouldn’t mind at all if he suffered a pang or two of regret.

  Feeling more or less on top of things, she headed downstairs.

  She’d be fine, she thought, running through a scenario of the meeting in her mind. They’d have a simple conversation. She’d confirm that she’d meant what she’d written in her letter. He’d want to know when the baby was due and make sure she had a plan, that she really was willing to have and raise it on her own. He’d tell her to notify him when it was born. Maybe he’d want to arrange some sort of visitation. Then he’d leave. He’d go back to the reservation. She’d go on the way she’d intended all along, and everything would be fine. Just fine.

  So how come at the bottom of the steps she wilted like an unwatered rose?

  In the three weeks since she’d realized she was pregnant, she’d thought mostly of Ash. Of trying to get the news to him. Of wondering what his reaction would be. Of convincing him she didn’t need or want his help or anything from him.

  But now that she was actually faced with sending him away, she suddenly felt herself confronting the fact that she wasn’t convinced herself.

  Oh, sure, doubts had been creeping across her mind all along and she’d been fighting them. But now they weren’t only creeping. They’d walked right in and taken over.

  Could she really do it all alone?

  Having a child was a daunting prospect. Raising it by herself was an even more daunting one.

  She’d be a single mother. On her own no matter what the child needed, no matter when or where.

  There wouldn’t be anybody else to turn to for relief when she was too tired to move. No one at all to share the load. Or the joy. No one to help make decisions. To worry with. No one but her.

  There wouldn’t be anyone to let her know if she was doing a good job or a bad one. Or anyone to be a sounding board when she was unsure of herself.

  There wouldn’t be anyone but her...

  “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “What am I doing?”

  But what was her alternative to being alone in this? she asked herself.

  There wasn’t one. Because even if she a
nd Ash were still married, she’d be almost as alone with a baby as without one.

  Ash didn’t love her anymore. His thoughts were elsewhere. If he were to take her back out of a sense of obligation, their second marriage would be as doomed as the first. And their baby would never know a full-time father.

  When Beth needed relief from night after night of interrupted sleep, he’d be in Washington lobbying for the return of more Native American lands.

  When the baby had colic, he’d be making sure a plumber was doing what needed to be done at the rehab center.

  When the baby took its first step, he wouldn’t be there to share the moment with her, he’d be off doing paperwork at the office.

  When she was up worrying about bad behavior in school, he’d be making plans for fund-raising for new scholarship programs.

  No, she was alone in this no matter how she looked at it. At least now, living in Elk Creek, she had her family and friends. She could count on them. She could turn to Linc or Jackson or Kansas when she needed help or moral support or bolstering.

  And she wouldn’t have to go through Miss Lightfeather to do it.

  Not that she expected to need a lot of help, anyway, she thought as she began to make some headway at shoving her doubts back into the corner of her mind.

  Her father had taught her to be independent, not to need anything from anyone. In fact, there would have been hell to pay if old Shag were around and knew she’d even had this lapse in confidence. Weak, sniveling, whining—that’s what he’d have called it. And he wouldn’t have tolerated it. He’d have sent her out to work twice as hard, made her do something so bad that no matter what she was fretting over, it would end up seeming like nothing next to what he’d have her doing.

  She was tough.

  She was a Heller.

  She could handle anything.

  She hoped....

  Certainly taking care of one little baby couldn’t be as hard as driving a herd of cattle through a torrential downpour, or smoking nests of snakes out of the barns, or slaughtering cows, or any of the gazillion other backbreaking, bone-wrenching work she’d done on this ranch.

  Could it?

  Of course it couldn’t. And even if it was, she’d done all that. She could do this.