by Mindy Neff
She couldn’t just abandon it now that she was so close to attaining the goal she’d worked for and sweated blood over for so long. Bagging this account would practically give her an engraved invitation for a much coveted promotion. Vice President of Cockran Advertising.
Thankfully, with a phone, fax and computer modem, it was nearly as good as being in the office.
“How’d the furniture get in here?”
She glanced around the room, pleased with how it was shaping up. “Mort called a couple of guys to help out. I hope you don’t mind that I did this.”
“This is your home now. You can do what you want.”
Temporary home, she thought, and chastised herself for the pang that settled beneath her breastbone.
“So what are you doing home in the middle of the day? It’s barely past lunchtime.”
“I thought we could go into the city and shop for baby furniture.”
“That’s a great idea,” she said. “We can clock how long it takes to get to the hospital while we’re at it.”
“I’ve got a fairly good idea about that.”
“I’d feel better if I knew it firsthand.”
“Like to be in control, hmm?”
“It’s not a crime.”
“No. It’s not. We can do that. Are you sure you’re up to it, though? Looks like you’ve already put in a full day.”
He was worried again. She wanted to hug him. Resisted. “I’m not an invalid, Cheyenne. I’m just pregnant.”
“And stubborn. Get your coat, trouble. It’s turning cold.”
CHEYENNE USHERED EMILY into a café in Miles City for an early dinner, watching her like a hawk, holding her chair, taking her coat. It was so sweet—though she didn’t dare say that. She’d already said that once today, and he’d scowled at her as though she’d maligned his masculinity.
But he was—sweet and sexy and worrying like a grizzly over a cub—which he would vehemently deny if she pointed it out. He projected a tough-guy image to the world. Emily saw right past it.
She’d told him she was fine so many times during the day she wasn’t going to say that again, either.
“I can’t wait to get all that furniture delivered,” she said, taking a sip of water and making a dive for the breadbasket.
“Yeah, I think we figured that out when you insisted it had to be today.”
“Well, you told me Gerard’s a friend of yours and lives close by. And he said he didn’t mind taking the delivery truck home.”
Cheyenne just smiled at her. “When you decide to do something, you don’t mess around, do you?”
She could say the same about him. He’d proposed marriage and had the ceremony completed within two days of her arrival.
And talk about stubborn. They’d had a bit of a scuffle over who would pay for the nursery items. Cheyenne had pointed out that this wasn’t an expense-account item. He’d won the argument by sheer force of his personality—and the fact that his name was on the deed to the house the furniture was going into.
Emily smiled. “I think Gerard was secretly afraid I’d have the babies before we could get a crib for them to sleep in.”
He glanced at her stomach, which was pressing against the table of the booth. “If I didn’t know your due date, I’d worry, too.”
He was worried, anyway. She could tell.
The waitress delivered their orders, and although Emily was ravenous, she wasn’t sure there was a whole lot of room inside her to put food. With her stomach wedged against the table, she couldn’t find a comfortable position.
“You haven’t said much about your folks, other than telling Iris your mom couldn’t make it to the wedding.”
Emily pushed at the pasta she’d hardly made a dent in, then laid down her fork. “That was a little bit of a fib.”
He raised a brow, waited to see if she’d continue.
She sighed. “My folks divorced about a year after we left Shotgun Ridge.”
“I’m sorry.”
Shrugging, she said, “It was for the best. They didn’t get along, and at the end it was as though they hated each other. Mom was selling real estate and Dad was having an affair. The divorce was pretty ugly. Mom became a workaholic and Dad disappeared. I’m still not sure where he is.”
“Is your mother still in Washington?”
The underlying question she heard was, why hadn’t Emily turned to Tamara to help out with the babies?
“No. She moved to Maine and remarried. We don’t stay in contact. Mom has her own life now and she makes no secret that she’s concentrating on herself. She feels she gave away her best years to the family and now it’s her turn.”
Emily understood her mom’s need to put herself first, but Tamara had gone to the extreme end of the scale. Her life revolved around her job, her new marriage and her husband’s healthy bank account.
There was no middle ground, no compromise, no obvious maternal feelings for the two daughters she’d left behind. It was as though once Emily and Debbie were grown, Tamara felt she’d done her duty and didn’t need to do any more.
“What about the babies? They’re her grandchildren.”
“It’s hard to explain my mother. She’s so different now. Selfish. In some ways that’s good, and I support her right to be her own woman, but in others…well, she just didn’t understand why I would take a chance on jeopardizing my job by agreeing to be a surrogate in the first place, or why Debbie was so desperate for children of her own—or why I was keeping the kids now that Debbie’s gone.”
“Sounds more insensitive than selfish, if you ask me.”
“Like I said, once Mom washed her hands of her old life, her philosophy on just about everything did a complete one-eighty. I can’t change her, so I don’t try.”
“Did she even come to the funeral?”
“Yes. Flew in and out the same day.”
He reached for her hand. She turned her palm up and linked her fingers with his, grateful for the compassion. She tried not to think about her mother’s actions, how they hurt. How she’d felt when her mother had told her she wasn’t staying, that she didn’t have any advice to give about the motherless babies Emily carried, didn’t have time in her life to offer help.
Just as Emily hadn’t considered herself these children’s mother, Tamara hadn’t given much thought to her role as a grandmother, other than perhaps sending a birthday card or holiday gift once or twice a year.
And that was when it had hit home to Emily that she was totally alone, without anyone who truly cared to help her out, to see her through the rough times. She hadn’t realized how desperately she’d wanted her mother to take her in her arms, to tell her it would all work out fine, that they were a family, and that Emily could count on that bond, that they’d put their heads together and figure out something.
Tamara hadn’t even asked Emily to drive her to the airport. She’d simply had a cab waiting, left Emily numb, alone with her sorrow and the quicksand in which her life had sunk.
Alone with her panic.
“I have to believe that in her own way, my mother does love me. And she’s grieving for Debbie, too, but she’s afraid to show it. Maybe the babies were just too painful a reminder.” She absently stroked her thumb over the back of his hand. “I know it all sounds pretty horrible, but I don’t want you to hold it against her. I’m still hoping she’ll come around someday, get to know her grandchildren.” But right now she wasn’t willing, didn’t have time, hadn’t scheduled it into her plans to help out.
So Emily had been left on her own.
Except for Cheyenne.
He astonished her by lifting their linked hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. His gaze held hers, his eyes intense, filled with thoughts and emotions she couldn’t read.
“Do you know how rare you are?”
“To have a dysfunctional family?”
He shook his head. “To have such a compassionate, good heart.”
“Now don’t g
o putting me on some pedestal. I was plenty upset over the whole ordeal. But I know what it’s like to concentrate on a career.”
“You don’t see it, do you?” he asked softly.
“What?”
He shook his head, pressed his lips once more to her knuckles, squeezed and let go. “You want everyone to think you’re this tough-as-nails executive, that the incredible things you do, the sacrifices you make for everyone else, are no big deal. Yet you are a very big deal.” His voice went deep and soft. “I’m really proud to know you.”
The timbre of his voice alone caused a lump to form in her throat. She was both touched by and uncomfortable with his praise. Because her own thoughts weren’t always so unselfish.
She desperately wanted the vice presidency of Cockran Advertising. And though it would be a juggling act when the babies came, she still planned to pursue it. So she did have something in common with her mother. The drive to make it to the top.
“Um, we should probably hit the road. Gerard will beat us to the house.”
His look said he knew she was discounting her qualities again, but he didn’t say anything.
After he paid the bill, Cheyenne helped her out of the booth and held her white parka as she threaded her arms through the sleeves. Chills raced over her skin as he lifted her hair free of her collar, let his fingers linger.
To cover her unease, she laughed and preceded him out the door, giving up on getting the zipper closed.
“Good thing these kids won’t be sticking out like this much longer. I’d have to get a new coat.”
Cheyenne put his arm around her, drawing her close to his warmth. “If you’re not concerned with fashion, you can borrow one of mine. Despite the kidlets there, you’ll swim in it.”
She laughed. “Politely put.”
“What?”
“Saving my feelings over being so huge by telling me your jacket would be too big.”
He grinned. “I’m the soul of discretion. I do have some experience with pregnant women and their touchy moods.”
“What kind of experience?”
“Three of my best friends, Wyatt, Ethan and Stony, have had pregnant wives. I’ve commiserated a lot.”
“Mm, and you learned a lesson in tact?”
“I learn well.”
She smiled and snuggled into his side. The air had a definite bite to it, and the weatherman was predicting snow. Although it was only early November, storefronts were already festive with holiday decorations.
“Think we’ll have snow for Christmas?”
“We usually do.”
“I love this season. Everything’s so happy and bright. It’ll be the babies’ first Christmas.”
“Probably be a bit young to fully appreciate it.”
“Don’t be a killjoy. They’ll be mesmerized by the lights. Wait and see.”
He looked down at her for a long moment, his dark eyes holding her as softly as a caress.
“You’ll be a great mother, Emily.”
Her heart did a wild leap.
He squeezed her shoulder, hugged her closer. “Have you decided if you’ll be Auntie or Mommy?”
Emily’s heart stung. This was an issue she was still unsure about. She’d never dreamed she’d be put in a position to have to make that choice. Her emotions were all over the place, and frankly, when she allowed herself to be totally honest, she had to admit that she was still indulging in quite a bit of denial, as though she’d wake up in the morning and it would all be a bad dream. As though Debbie and Jimmy would be here fussing over her, holding hands, anticipating, pinching themselves over their coveted, long-awaited blessings.
“There’s time to decide,” she said softly. “I want the kids to know about Debbie and Jimmy, to realize they were conceived as a result of their parents’ deep love. I don’t want to take away from that in any way.”
He stopped next to the truck, pulled her around to face him. For the longest moment he simply looked down at her. Then he oh-so-gently pressed his lips to her forehead, her eyelids and at last to her lips.
She wanted to cling, but the contact was over before she could think twice or even figure out what she’d said or done to bring on that incredibly tender look, that incredibly tender touch.
“What was that for?”
“For you. Just you. I bet my brother and your sister are looking down, thanking God they entrusted their children to such an extraordinary woman.”
Tears swam in her eyes and she blinked them back. She wasn’t so extraordinary.
But she reveled in the compliment.
And felt way too comfortable, too right, in Cheyenne Bodine’s arms.
Chapter Six
Cheyenne had the dresser in place and the crib set up, and was testing the spring action of the side. The room was transformed into a sea of white with vibrant red accents. Appliqués of happy bears and lambs frolicked on the shiny white wood, the theme was repeated on the bumper pads and sheets.
They’d ended up only buying one crib, each of them citing financial thriftiness for the decision, each of them knowing that wasn’t the case at all. By the time the babies grew enough to need their own space, it would be time for Emily to leave.
“Look at how tiny these are.” Emily held up a little shirt that was hardly bigger than her hand. “Maybe we should have gotten a larger size. This doesn’t look like it’d fit a grasshopper.”
Cheyenne glanced over at her and smiled. “They’ll be fine.”
“Well, I guess you’d know better than me. You’ve been around more babies.” She folded the T-shirts and put them in the drawer along with the fluffy blankets, sleepers and tiny socks. “I’ve never even held one.”
“A baby? You’re kidding!”
“Nope.” She lightly ran her hands over the soft fabric of a drawstring gown. Besides the neutral colors of yellow and green, she’d also bought pink outfits. If she had boys, they could just alternate wearing the girl color. She’d start them young learning to be secure in their masculinity.
Listen to me, she thought with a silent chuckle. Already worrying over their self-esteem.
It was all starting to feel real. For the first time she allowed herself to picture babies in the crib, sweet little angels swaddled in blankets. Her babies.
Yes, they were her babies now.
Surrounding herself with the trappings seemed to make something inside her go click.
She hadn’t chosen this path, but she would do her best. For Debbie. And for Jimmy. And for Cheyenne and the children.
Cheyenne’s words came back to her. Will you be Auntie or Mommy?
The idea of the babies calling her Mommy made her heart soften and flutter. Still, she felt a real fear that she might fail. She didn’t know why. She was a person who faced responsibility head-on. But what if that wasn’t enough?
She placed a hand on her stomach, where the babies were inactive for once. Come to think of it, they’d been inactive most of the day. She’d probably worn them out with all the walking. She would love these children. She already loved them….
Emily’s eyes widened and she sucked in a breath.
“What’s wrong?” Cheyenne was at her side in an instant. Did the man have radar? The last she’d checked, he’d been engrossed in the spring mechanism of the crib.
“I’m not sure. I just had a sharp pain, and…oh, my God, my water just broke!”
He stared at her as though she’d told him Santa’s reindeers were sharing the barn with his mustangs.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure! I’m the one standing here with a mess all over my shoes!”
“Sit down. On second thought…” He scooped her up in his arms.
“Cheyenne! For heaven’s—”
“Hush. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He strode through the house and deposited her on the couch. “Stay put. I’ll call Chance.”
She knew she should have made more of an effort to meet with the doctor Chance had
recommended. “I’m not having these babies at home.”
“Just calm down.”
“Oh, that’s right. You try to be calm with water running down your legs and two babies who’ve decided to come out. It wasn’t supposed to be—oooh.”
Cheyenne dropped the phone he’d just picked up. “What?”
Tears stung her eyes. She was going to be a sissy about this. She was sure of it. “I think I’m in labor,” she panted.
“What should I do?”
“How the hell should I know? You’re the one with the baby-delivering experience!”
“I’m not delivering these babies!” His jaw was tight, his voice a soft growl, his hands gentle as he squatted in front of her, rubbed her arms, her thighs, watched her as she panted through the short pain.
Figures he’d be the calm, quiet one when she was the screaming meemie. Then again, she was the one feeling as if her insides were ripping apart.
“Is it over?”
“I think so.” She was trembling, her nails digging half-moons in his forearms. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m scared to death.”
“Yeah, me, too. Hang on and let me call Chance.”
He got up and retrieved the phone, then brought it to the couch and stood right over her as he punched in numbers on the portable.
“Chance? Cheyenne. Emily’s in labor.” A pause. “Two pains so far. Her water broke.” He listened another minute. “Okay. We’ll meet you there. On second thought, I’ve got to pass through town on the way to the hospital. Fall in behind my truck. If things get hairy on the road, I want backup.” He nodded, listened some more, then hung up.
“Let’s go.”
“Shouldn’t I pack a bag or something?”
“Do you want to hang around here any longer than necessary?”
She shook her head.
“Thought not.” He helped her to her feet, threaded her arms through the sleeves of her coat and walked her outside. “We’ll take the Bronco.”
She grinned. For all his quiet tone, he was a mass of terrified male. It was endearing.
Despite his nerves, though, she knew she was in capable hands. “We get the whole treatment, huh? Lights and siren and all?”