A Baby for the Deputy

by Cathy McDavid

  “Yeah. Right.” She sighed. “How is Nancy going to take the news?”

  “Honestly?” he asked.

  “That’s the only answer I’m interested in.”

  “Probably not great.”

  While putting her vet practice first had been Mel’s reason for keeping their relationship status casual, Nancy’s hold on Aaron was the driving force behind his. Mel disliked being harsh. He had lost the woman he loved. But it was as if Nancy didn’t want him moving on. She fanned his guilt over Robin’s death, keeping the flame alive and burning bright.

  “She has to expect you’re going to meet someone eventually.” For a moment, Mel thought Aaron might confess that he already had. It didn’t happen.

  “She’s been good to me and Kaylee since Robin died.”

  Mel didn’t press the issue. She had no right. He was entitled to tell Nancy in his own time and in his own way.

  “What about you?” Aaron asked. “Not your family but your job. Having a baby is going to interfere in a big way with your work schedule.”

  “You’re right. I’ll have to make some changes. But other single mothers manage.” She was thinking of her older sister. “I will, too.”

  “No rush. You have a lot on your plate at the moment.”

  He didn’t ask the obvious question, for which she was glad. How did she expect to simultaneously build her practice and raise a child? Perhaps he, like Mel, believed she didn’t have to choose and could succeed at both.

  “I want this baby,” she said, admitting out loud what was in her heart.

  His response was an ear-to-ear grin. “I can tell. I’m excited, too.”

  “You are?”

  “It was hard being happy when Kaylee was born. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted her. But I was losing Robin. She was dying by degrees, and each day was a challenge. This time, with you, I can celebrate. Pass out cigars. Laugh when the guys make jokes.”

  His admission struck a tender chord in Mel’s heart. If she hadn’t thought him perfect before, she did now. Managing to keep her distance was getting harder and harder.

  They spent the next thirty minutes discussing less pressing matters. It seemed not all of Aaron’s memories of Robin’s pregnancy were sad. He had some humorous and sweet stories to tell, too.

  Any other night, they would have made love. Tonight, however, they were there to talk, and it was Aaron who suggested they get a move on as they both had early mornings.

  He walked with her to her truck. “Good night, Mel. Drive safely.”

  “You, too. I’ll let you know about the doctor’s appointment.”

  Assuming a parting kiss was unlikely, she reached for her door handle—and was caught off guard when his arm captured her by the waist.

  “Aaron! What—”

  He lifted her off her feet and hard against him.

  “Is this a good idea?” Her voice wavered. The message earlier had been hands-off.

  “You can tell me no.” He lowered his mouth, stopping a millimeter shy of kissing her. “Otherwise, hang on.”

  Hang on? Like to his shoulders? Weak in the knees, she decided maybe she’d better. Just as a precaution.

  In the deepest recesses of her mind, a small voice shouted a warning to be careful. This was inviting danger.

  She didn’t listen. Aaron smelled too delicious and felt too good for her to stop now.

  “I’ve missed you, Mel.” He brushed his lips across hers, their touch softer than a butterfly’s wings.

  The words she’d longed to hear. Aaron had never said them before, in this or any context. Missing her implied he thought about her when they were apart. Hadn’t she just ripped the rug out from under him with her pregnancy announcement? Yet, he admitted to missing her.

  This wasn’t just a matter of growing feelings. There had to be more.

  Any other thoughts, coherent or scattered or wildly improbable, were banished when Aaron’s mouth covered hers. He didn’t have to demand a response from her, she willingly offered. Clutching the fabric of his shirt in her fingers, she dragged him backward until they stumbled into her truck, and she was pinned between two hard and unyielding surfaces.

  Yes. At last. This was what she’d been wanting, needing, craving all night. Letting go and throwing caution to the wind, she lost herself in the kiss.

  Wait—that wasn’t it at all. She found herself. And she wanted to stay. Indefinitely.

  Eventually, and too soon for her liking, they slowly broke apart. Just as well. They might have gone a little too far. Their immediate future was up in the air still, and intimacy tended to confuse situations.

  But when Mel peered up at Aaron, he wore a grin. Not a satisfied one and not a sexy one. It was...happy. How was that possible when they’d just made a big mistake?

  “I’d better go,” he said, as reluctant to release her as he’d been to end their kiss.

  Rendered speechless, Mel could only nod. With a last, lovely caress to her cheek, he walked away. She stared after him for several seconds before climbing into her truck and starting the engine.

  At the first stop, Mel touched a hand to her cheek and then a finger to her lips, reliving the sensation of Aaron’s hand and mouth. Unless she was mistaken, he had kissed her as if he wanted her with every fiber of his being. And she had wanted him with the same intensity.

  Wrong and dangerous as it was, she hoped they’d make another mistake again soon.

  * * *

  MEL COMMENDED HERSELF for arriving at Frankie’s house only—she checked the dash clock—thirty-six minutes late. It had been a crazy busy day with two unscheduled emergencies. Thirty-six minutes late was a pretty impressive accomplishment in her opinion.

  Four days had passed since she and Aaron met up at the motel and shared their incredible kiss. Four days when Mel had a thousand and one important things to contemplate—like her pregnancy and the doctor visit, which had gone well. Aaron telling his mother-in-law and her reaction. Mel telling her family. The latest developments with Samantha.

  Yet, unbelievably, Mel was most occupied with the kiss, constantly reliving every vivid detail and analyzing every tiny aspect from beginning to end. It probably meant nothing. She and Aaron had often kissed. No reason to go overboard just because her toes continued to tingle even now.

  Her phone beeped, alerting her to a text message. Mel quit breathing. Was it Aaron? They’d been communicating daily, mostly about how she felt, the results of her doctor visit, the young foal’s condition and what, if any, progress had been made on the horse thefts. But it was always by phone call. Their last text had been the one on Sunday containing the inn room number.

  She checked, saw Frankie’s name and told herself she was glad. Talking to Aaron would only confuse her more.

  Frankie’s text asked how much longer Mel was going to be. Apparently, her older sister didn’t look out her front window much or she’d see Mel’s truck sitting there. Then again, she might be in the backyard with Samantha.

  Mel answered “Here,” then retrieved her medical case from the locked compartment. As expected, Frankie and Samantha were with Mel’s newest patient—Samantha’s horse.

  Entering through the side gate, Mel crossed the large, grassy backyard. Frankie had purchased the country-style house, with its half-acre corral and minibarn especially for her daughters. She’d yet to acquire a pony or small horse for them, still in the process of getting settled after the move. Which meant that Samantha’s horse, a long-legged, muscular brown and white paint, had the place to himself.

  Judging from his loose-limbed stance and idly swishing tail, he liked his new surroundings. Same for his owner. Samantha chatted amiably with Frankie, the defiance in her eyes absent for once.

  “There you are.” Frankie spotted Mel and threw her arms up in exasperation. “Finally. It’s after three.”

 
Samantha didn’t issue a greeting. She stood beside her horse, perhaps shielding him from danger or taking comfort from him. Mel wasn’t sure which. Big John, his lead rope dangling from the fence, shook his head in annoyance at the dozen pesky flies attempting to land.

  Mel hadn’t changed her opinion of the horse’s condition; it would require months of rest and physical therapy for a full recovery. But she did believe he’d eventually compete again and had told Samantha as much.

  That, and Ronnie allowing Samantha to use her expensive barrel-racing horse, were likely responsible for the young woman’s improved attitude. And possibly Frankie’s mothering too. She did have the magic touch.

  “Jeez, Mom,” Mel teased, “I’m not that late.” She set her case down near the horse and opened it, revealing an assortment of equipment and supplies.

  Frankie’s daughters played nearby, wearing bathing suits and darting in and out of the water sprinkler. They were having so much fun, laughing and squealing, they hadn’t seen Mel.

  She wiped sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. Tempted to join her nieces in the water, she asked Samantha, “How’s he doing today?”

  “No better.”

  “Rehabilitation takes time. You have to be patient.”

  “I’m walking him twice a day like you said.”

  “That’s good.” Mel conducted her examination, quizzing Samantha about the horse and his symptoms.

  “And I’m taking him to Powell Ranch tomorrow to work him in the round pen there.”

  “Don’t they usually charge for that?”

  Powell Ranch, where Ronnie had her barrel-racing school, offered several levels of service to their customers. Mel doubted Samantha could afford the most basic one.

  “They’re letting me use some of the facilities in exchange for cleaning stalls and exercising horses.”

  “It was Ronnie’s idea,” Frankie interjected. “That way, Samantha can train with Ronnie’s other students.”

  Training under Ronnie’s supervision. Using her best horse. Living with Frankie. Helping with chores and babysitting her daughters.

  Mel marveled at how both her sisters had so readily accepted Samantha. Unless they were just making the best of the situation, which was what Aaron had suggested when they spoke yesterday.

  “That’s great.” Mel was slow to respond.

  “She registered for the barrel-racing competition this weekend in Rio Verde,” Frankie said.

  Mel had heard. Like with bull riding, bronc busting and calf roping, barrel racers often organized nonsanctioned events in order that both the riders and horses could practice as much as possible.

  “Dad’s driving her.” Frankie looked pleased. “And covering the entry fees. We’re all going.”

  Mel continued manipulating Big John’s injured leg, gauging his sensitivity to pain. “We?”

  “The girls and me. Dad. Dolores. Ronnie, naturally. And you?” she added with a hopeful smile.

  “I’m working.”

  “All day? It doesn’t start till early evening.”

  “She doesn’t have to go,” Samantha said sulkily.

  Mel stifled her temper, irked at being made to feel guilty. “I’ll do my best.”

  One of the girls squealed in anger and took a swing at her sister, fortunately missing by a good foot. Something must have gone wrong during their playing. Frankie rushed over to separate them and make peace.

  Mel noticed Samantha watching, a tender expression on her face as if she actually cared about the girls. Who, now that Mel thought about it, were Samantha’s nieces. Mel remembered the mention of two younger brothers. Did Samantha miss them? They must be older than the girls.

  The next moment, Samantha returned her attention to Big John. Ignoring Mel, she rubbed the broad space between his eyes and cooed softly. Big John responded by lowering his head, pressing his nose into her arm and blowing contentedly.

  Liking young children. Loving her horse. Samantha apparently possessed a gentler side. Mel had been like that when she was younger.

  That wasn’t the only similarity she’d observed between the two of them. Though, to Mel’s dismay, she might have more in common with Samantha’s mother Carrie Anne. Both had unexpectedly gotten pregnant by a man who still grieved his late wife, and both were reluctant to commit to that man.

  Mel reached into her medical case for liniment and leg wraps. Bandaging Big John’s leg protected it from further injury, and the liniment improved flexibility. Mel was trying many different methods to help the horse, including exercising and stretches designed to strengthen his leg.

  “Can I help?” Samantha asked.

  “Um, sure.” Mel pointed. “Hand me that square of cotton padding.

  Samantha did as instructed and then watched Mel closely as if trying to absorb everything she did.

  “You interested in veterinary medicine?”

  “I’m interested in taking care of Big John,” she answered.

  Good enough, thought Mel. “He’s a nice horse. Strong. Spirited. Clearly attached to you. I can see why you’re upset he’s hurt.”

  “He’s all I’ve got.” Samantha continued to stroke the horse’s broad face. “I’d do anything for him.”

  Like demand money from a biological father she hadn’t met before?

  “What about your family in Flagstaff?”

  Samantha didn’t answer. Okay, apparently, Aaron was right. She was on the outs with her parents. Maybe they didn’t approve of her choices or disliked her boyfriend. What eighteen-year-old wasn’t on the outs with his or her parents at some time?

  “I’m really grateful to Ronnie and Frankie.” After a long pause, Samantha said, “And you.”

  Mel almost laughed. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  Samantha became suddenly preoccupied with Big John. Mel let her be, focusing instead on the horse’s leg. Overall, she was satisfied with his improvement, slow though it was.

  “Rodeoing is my only shot to make anything of myself.”

  Mel glanced over her shoulder at Samantha. “I doubt that. You’re smart. And pretty capable from what I’ve seen, no insult intended. I’m sure you have more than one shot. What about college?”

  “I’m not going. I don’t care what my parents say.”

  Ah. School was the reason for the falling out. Had they talked since Samantha came to Mustang Valley? Samantha hadn’t taken the news of her mother’s lies well. Their original rift could have possibly, and understandably, widened.

  “I loved college,” Mel said, choosing not to ask about Samantha’s mother. “But it’s not for everyone. Given the choice, what would you do?”

  “Barrel race. What I’m doing now.”

  Ronnie had made a career of rodeoing. It could be done.

  “You’ll have to work really hard.”

  “I’m tough.”

  This time, Mel did laugh. “No kidding.”

  Did she actually admire the young woman? When had that happened? Must be her maternal instincts kicking in, messing with her thinking.

  “Look, I know you’re mad at me...” Samantha stopped there, leaving the sentence unfinished.

  “I am.” Mel stood. “What you did wasn’t right. Demanding money.” She braced her hands on her hips. “But, you were lied to by your parents, and, trust me, I understand how you feel.” She had yet to look her father in the eyes since learning his giant secret. “And because my sisters believe you deserve a break, I’m willing to help.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Mel waited.

  “Thank you.”

  A little better. She had no idea why, but she said, “If you’d like to come with me sometime on a call, I wouldn’t object. I’m going to need a hand in the coming weeks. With some of the heavier work.”

  “Help you?” Samantha
brightened. “You’re offering me a job?”

  “No. I can’t afford to pay you. Consider it a trade for treating Big John.”

  Her enthusiasm didn’t wane. “When? Tomorrow?”

  “Don’t you have to watch the girls and train with Ronnie?”

  “Frankie doesn’t go in to work until noon, and practice starts at 7:00—p.m.,” she clarified.

  “I’ll be by at 6:00 to pick you up—a.m.”

  Samantha didn’t say much else, but Mel caught her smiling to herself and almost tripped on her case. While not a carbon copy, Samantha did have many of the Hartman characteristics, reminding Mel of Ronnie when she was younger. Or, she swallowed, herself.

  How could she have missed the resemblance?

  “That was nice of you.” Frankie had snuck up behind Mel.

  “I’m probably going to regret it.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  They both turned when Aaron’s family SUV pulled into the driveway. Mel’s heart rate immediately skyrocketed. What was he doing here? He must have spotted her truck while driving by and stopped to talk. She finger combed her hair, scolded herself for caring and let her hand drop.

  “Ah!” Frankie said. “Right on time.”

  “What?” Mel blinked.

  “Aaron. He brought Kaylee over for dinner and a playdate with the girls.”

  Really? They’d just talked a couple hours ago, and he hadn’t mentioned a playdate. Not that he was required to inform her of his schedule. But he’d known she was going to be here.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Squinting, Frankie shielded her eyes from the sun. “You look funny.”

  “Nothing.” Mel turned away.

  Childish though it might be, she was a bit hurt. Aaron hadn’t dropped by to see her but rather her sister and nieces. Apparently, she was the only one affected by their kiss.

  Chapter Eight

  “Wait.” Aaron sprinted toward Mel. “Put that down. Better yet, give it to me.” He relieved her of the bucket of water, ignoring her protest. “It’s too heavy for you.”

  “I’m not frail and helpless.”