She stifled a sigh, climbed behind the wheel of her car and pulled away from the curb. Ali and Grant were in their SUV behind her. She’d become accustomed to using Ryder’s truck, because Layla’s car seat fit so much better into it. But Layla was back at the ranch with Adelaide. Ryder’s aunt had declined the invitation, saying that two parties within just a few days of each other were more than she was used to. And Vivian’s annual fete was the night after next on Christmas Eve.
Greer wondered if Ryder would find an excuse to miss that party, too. If he did, it was going to be a little harder for her to explain away his absence. Her brother-in-law’s company party was one thing. Vivian’s, quite another.
As Grant had predicted, the party was in full swing when they arrived at the Swift mansion.
Greer left her coat in the foyer with the teenager who’d been hired to handle them and aimed straight for the bar. She longed for a cocktail, but made do with cranberry juice and lime. Then she filled a small plate with brownies that she knew Maddie had made from scratch and a half dozen other little morsels.
If anyone did notice her bump, they’d just figure it was from gorging herself.
Christmas music was playing in the background, loud enough to cover awkward silences as employees settled in but not so loud that it was annoying. If Vivian held true to form for her party, she’d have a live quartet. When it came to her grandmother, expense was no object. She imported the musicians from wherever she needed to.
Greer wandered through the house, smiling and greeting those she knew as if she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. There wasn’t a corner or a banister that hadn’t been decked with garland and holly, and the tree that stood in the curve of the staircase was covered in pretty red-and-gold ornaments. She stood admiring it, sipping her juice.
“Looks a little more like a normal tree than ours.”
Greer jerked, splashing cranberry juice against her sweater. She blotted the spot with her cocktail napkin and stared at Ryder. “I thought you weren’t coming.” He was wearing an off-white henley with his jeans, and it just wasn’t fair that he should look so good when she felt so bad.
“I thought I wasn’t.” He shrugged. “But I got the bulls settled finally and decided to come.” His blue eyes roved over her face, but they didn’t give a clue to what he was thinking. They might be married, but she felt like she knew him no better than she had when they’d first met.
He took the napkin from her, folded it over and pressed it against her sweater. “Would you have preferred I hadn’t?”
Her heart felt like it was beating unevenly and she hoped he couldn’t feel it, too. “Of course not,” she managed smoothly. “You just surprised me, that’s all.” She tugged the napkin away from him and crumpled it. “There’s a bar and an entire spread.” She gestured with the hand holding her plate of food. “You should go help yourself. Maddie’s brownies will go fast.”
His gaze seemed to rest on her face again for a moment too long before he headed off.
She blamed the impression on her guilty conscience.
No matter how strained things were between them, she knew she needed to tell him about the baby.
This time, there’d be no room for him to doubt the paternity. It was the only positive note that she could think of in what felt like an intolerable situation.
“That you, Greer?”
She looked away from watching Ryder to see a familiar face. “Judge Manetti!”
He smiled. “It used to be Steve, remember? We’re not in my courtroom now.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “When I saw you at first, I thought you were Maddie.” He waved his fingers. “The hair’s longer. You’re looking good. Heard you got married. It must suit you.”
She kept her smile in place. It took an effort, but she’d had a lot of practice. “I didn’t know you were part of Swift Oil.”
“My wife started there a few months ago.” He looked around the room. “Always wondered what it was like inside this old mansion. Pretty impressive.”
It was a little easier to smile at that. “I think so, too. How’re things over at civic plaza?”
“Crazy. You know about—” He broke off and nodded. “Of course you know about it. Heard they’ve got a short list for the top spot in your old office.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Ryder returning. “Oh? Someone from Cheyenne, I suppose.”
He shook his head. “You really don’t know?”
“I really don’t—ah. Keith Gowler? He’s got the trial experience. I think he’s pretty happy being in private practice, though. Means he can take cases for PD when he chooses.”
“Not Keith. You.”
She blinked, then shook her head. “No. Not possible. There’re too many other attorneys in line ahead of me. And I quit, remember?”
Ryder stopped next to her and set his hand against the small of her back. She nearly spilled her drink again. “Friend of yours?”
She turned and set the cranberry juice on the edge of a stair tread at the level of her head, along with her still-full plate. “This is Judge Steve Manetti,” she introduced. “Steve, my...my—”
“Ryder Wilson.” He stuck out his hand. In comparison to Steve’s, his was large. Square. A working man’s hand.
She moistened her lips, reminding herself to keep a friendly smile in place. “Steve and I have known each other since elementary school.”
“I was just telling your wife that she’s on the short list for replacing Towers.”
Ryder’s brow furrowed. “She’s opening her own practice.”
“No kidding!” Steve gave her a surprised look. “I hadn’t heard that. Not that you wouldn’t be great at it, but I always thought you had the public defender’s office running in your veins.”
“Guess not,” Ryder answered before she could. His fingers curled against her spine. “If you’ll excuse us, there’s someone we need to see.”
The judge smiled as Ryder ushered her away, but Greer recognized the speculation in his gaze. As soon as they were out of earshot, though, she jerked away from Ryder. “I didn’t know caveman was your style. What was that all about?”
“You’re not going to work for the PD office again.”
She felt her eyebrows shoot up her forehead. “First of all, I haven’t heard this short-list rumor. And second of all, even if I had, I would think that’s my decision, wouldn’t you?”
“Working in that office ran you ragged. And that’s when you were an expendable peon.”
She stiffened. “Good to know you had such respect for the work I did there!”
His lips tightened. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
She propped her hands on her hips and angled her head, looking up at him. “No, I don’t know it. Why don’t you explain it to me?”
“You really want to run that place? What about Layla? Months ago, you told me she was what was important and I believed you. Who’s going to take care of our daughter when you’re spending eighty hours a week defending drunk drivers and shoplifters?”
She gaped. “If that’s the way you feel, why on earth did you ever insist on my opening my own practice? And don’t go on about it being my dream! You think I’d be able to grow a practice from scratch with Layla on my hip 24/7?”
“You’d be calling your own shots,” he said through his teeth. “Controlling your own schedule. You’d still have time to be a mother. Or now that you’ve finally got that right legally, has it lost the luster? You want to dump her off on someone else while you go off to do your own thing?”
She could barely form words for the fury building in her. She was literally seeing red. “You can regret marrying me.” Her fingers curled into fists as she pushed past him. “But don’t you ever compare me to Daisy.”
He caught her arm. “Where are you going?”
She
yanked free. “Away from you.”
The foyer had become a traffic jam of people arriving at the party. Greer veered away and started up the staircase instead.
“Dammit, Greer.” He was on her heel. As unconcerned as she was that they’d begun drawing attention. He closed his hand over her shoulder and she lost it.
Quite. Simply. Lost it.
She whirled on him. “Don’t touch me!”
He swore and started to reach for her again.
That he kept doing so now infuriated her, when he hadn’t reached for her at all in the way that mattered most ever since they’d been married. She swatted his hands away, taking another step. But her heel caught again in the long hem of her pants and she stumbled. She steadied herself, though, grabbing the banister, and blindly took another step.
Right into the plate that she’d set on one of the treads. Her shoe slid through brownies and ranch dressing and she felt herself falling backward, arms flailing. Some part of her mind heard someone gasp. Another part saw Ryder’s blue eyes as he tried to catch her.
And then she landed on her back and bounced against the banister so hard the Christmas tree next to the staircase rocked.
And then she saw no more.
Chapter Thirteen
“How is she?”
From the hard plastic chair he’d been camped in, Ryder lifted his head and looked from Meredith and Carter to Greer. She was lying asleep in the hospital bed. The white bandage on her forehead was partially hidden by her hair. The rest of the damage from her fall was harder to see. Harder to predict.
Which was why she was still lying in the hospital bed at all thirty-six hours later.
His jaw ached. “She hasn’t lost the baby.” Yet. He didn’t say that part. But it felt like the word echoed around the small curtained-off area all the same.
He still was trying to resolve the fact that he’d learned she was carrying his child at the same time he’d learned she was very much in danger of losing it.
Now his wife was being carefully sedated while they waited.
Meredith’s hand shook as she pressed it to her mouth.
“She’s going to be all right,” Carter told her, kissing her forehead. His arm was around her shoulder. “Nothing is going to happen to our girl on Christmas Eve.”
Ryder wished he were so convinced.
Meredith finally lowered her hand. “Where’s Layla?”
“Ali picked her up this morning.” Much as he loved Adelaide, she wasn’t up to the task of keeping up with an active one-year-old for more than a few hours at a time.
“That’s good.” Meredith nodded. She scooted past Ryder’s legs until she reached the head of the bed, and then dropped a tender kiss on her daughter’s forehead.
Ryder looked away, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Have you gotten any sleep?” That was from Carter.
He shook his head. How could he sleep? Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Greer tumbling backward down those stairs.
“Maybe you should.”
He shook his head.
“At least take a break.”
He shook his head.
Carter stopped making suggestions. He sighed and squeezed Ryder’s shoulder. “She’s going to be all right, son. If the baby—” He broke off and cleared his throat. “I know you don’t want to hear it. But there can be other babies.”
But Ryder knew otherwise. This baby was their only chance. Greer was never going to forgive him no matter what happened. He was never going to forgive himself.
He propped his elbows on his knees again and stared at the floor.
Eventually, Meredith and Carter left with promises to return later. They’d bring him something to eat. They’d bring him something to drink.
It didn’t really matter to him.
The only thing that did was lying in a hospital bed.
Inevitably, more family members visited. Hayley. Archer. Cousins he knew. Cousins he didn’t.
Nobody stayed long. There wasn’t space for more than the one chair Ryder was occupying. And he was too selfish to give up his spot by Greer’s bed, even to all the other people who loved her, too. Finally, he must have dozed off. But he jerked awake when he heard a baby cry.
But when he opened his eyes, there was no baby. Only his wife. Eyes still closed. Breath so faint that he had to stare hard at the pale blue–dotted gown covering her chest to be certain that it was moving.
“How is she?”
How many times had he heard the question? A dozen? Two? He focused on the petite woman standing inside the curtain. “Vivian? What’re you doing here?”
“Checking on my granddaughter, of course.” She slipped past him to peer closely at Greer. “You’re a Templeton,” she told her. “We’re many things, but we’re not weak.” She kissed Greer’s forehead, much like Meredith had, and straightened.
Her face seemed more lined. Wearier. He offered her the chair.
She took it and held her pocketbook on her lap with both hands. “I’ve spent so many days in my life at a hospital.” She shook her head slightly and reached out to squeeze his hand. “It’s Christmas Eve. Nothing’s going to happen to our girl on Christmas Eve.”
“That’s what Carter said.”
Her lips curved in a smile. Bittersweet. “He’s like his father,” she murmured.
Then it occurred to him. “Your party is tonight.”
“It’s on hold.”
“Greer said you invited a hundred people.”
She waved her fingers dismissively. “And they’ll likely come when I reschedule. When you and Greer can both be there.”
“I don’t know if that’s gonna happen,” he admitted in a low voice.
She smiled gently. “I do.” Then she pushed to her feet. “I’ve picked up Adelaide. She wanted me to see Greer first, but she’s in the waiting room.”
“That was nice of you, Vivian. Thank you.”
“Don’t get too sentimental on me. I have a selfish motivation, as well. She and Brutus will be coming home to stay with me. I convinced her to stay awhile.” She reached up and patted his cheek. “And that’s final, dear boy.” Then she tugged on the hem of her nubby-looking pink suit and left.
Ryder moved back next to the bed. Greer’s hand was cool when he picked it up. He pressed it to his mouth, warming it. He was still like that when he heard the curtain swish again.
Adelaide stood there.
He exhaled and lowered Greer’s hand to the bed. Then he stood and let his aunt wrap her skinny, surprisingly strong arms around him. “You love her,” she said in a whisper. He hadn’t ever heard her speak so softly. “You need to tell her.”
“How do you know I haven’t?”
She pulled back and gave him a look out of those crazy made-up eyes of hers. “I’ve been living in the same house as the two of you for four months. How do you think I know?” Then she set a familiar-looking ring box in his hand.
He slid his jaw to one side. Then the other. “How’d you find it?”
Now she just looked droll. “You’ve always hidden your treasures in your sock drawer. Not very imaginative if I must say, and it was quite the nuisance getting past Layla’s crib to get the drawer all the way open.”
There was nothing to be amused about. Yet he still felt a faint smile lift his lips. Then he looked back at his wife. Lying in that bed.
And he closed his eyes.
“Ryder,” Adelaide whispered. “Have faith.”
“Faith hasn’t gotten me very far before, Adelaide. You know that.”
“You just weren’t looking.” She gestured toward the bed with her turquoise-laden hand. “What do you see when you look at her?”
My life.
“Tell her you love her. Give her your granny’s ring. I know you said before t
hat you were afraid to. Afraid she wouldn’t want it. Wouldn’t understand the treasure you were trying to give. This last thing that remains from your family.” She squeezed his hand around the ring box. “And I’m telling you that she will.” She went from squeezing his fingers to squeezing his jaw. “What do you see when you look at her, Ryder?”
His eyes burned. “My life.”
She gave a great sigh and smiled. She pulled on his jaw until he lowered his head and she kissed his forehead, like she’d done about a million times before.
Then she, too, went back outside the curtain.
Ryder pushed open the ring box. The box alone was ancient. The filigreed diamond ring inside was from the 1920s. He slid it free from the fading blue velvet. It was so small it didn’t fit over the tip of his finger.
He sat down beside the bed again. Slowly picked up Greer’s hand. It was still cool. Too cool.
When they’d brought her to the hospital, they’d taken her jewelry. Her wedding band. Her earrings. Placed them in a plastic bag that they’d given to him. He wasn’t sure where he’d even put it.
He slowly slid his grandmother’s ring over Greer’s wedding finger. He didn’t expect it to fit. But it did. “With this ring,” he whispered huskily.
“I thee wed.” Her words were faint, her touch lighter than a whisper as she curled her fingers down over his.
His heart charged into his throat and he looked up at her face. Her eyes were barely open but a tear slid from the corner of her eye. “The baby...” Her lashes closed.
He leaned close and smoothed away that tear. “The baby’s okay.” His voice was rough. “You’re okay. All you have to do is rest.”
Her lashes lifted again. A little more this time. Her hand slowly rose. The back of her knuckles grazed his cheek. “You’re crying. Just tell me the truth. The baby—”
“Is going to be okay.”
Her eyes drifted closed again. “I should’ve told you.” Another tear slid from her eye. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.”
The Rancher's Christmas Promise Page 18