Baby's First Homecoming

by Cathy McDavid

  What a relief. He hadn’t lied. He was finally and truly over Jessica.

  Before he could tell Sierra, her cell phone rang. She retrieved it from the counter and glanced at the caller ID, her expression puzzled.

  “Hello. Yes, good morning,” she said brightly after a pause. “I’m still interested.” Casting Clay a guilty look, she walked into the family room, the phone pressed to her ear.

  She didn’t want Clay to hear her conversation. Naturally, his curiosity skyrocketed. He went over and played with Jamie, stealing bites of his eggs and toast, much to Jamie’s amusement. Clay heard only a word here and there of Sierra’s phone call, not enough to decipher it.

  “Thank you very much for considering me,” she said. “I look forward to the call.”

  Clay clearly heard that last part and frowned.

  She returned to the kitchen, murmuring, “Sorry about that,” and resumed loading the dishwasher.

  The hell with respecting her privacy. “Was that about a job?”

  She pivoted to face him, her mouth set in a determined line. “Yes.”

  Holy cow, she was really mad at him.

  “I didn’t realize you were looking for a new one.”

  “I’m not. This is a company I applied to before I started working for you. They’re hiring a new position and going through the résumés on file.”

  “Are you seriously considering it?” The few bites of Jamie’s breakfast Clay had eaten sat like stones in his stomach. She was quitting him.

  “It’s pays well and the hours are flexible.”

  “I’ll give you a raise.”

  She exhaled sharply. “It’s just a phone interview. I’m one of a dozen.”

  “We have an agreement.” He was ashamed at himself for sinking so low as to use their employment contract.

  “This job doesn’t start till May, after the contract expires.”

  “It automatically renews.”

  “If I don’t opt out.”

  “Are you ready to put Jamie in day care?”

  “I think I will be by then.”

  “You’re doing this because of Jessica.”

  “She has nothing to do with me considering a potential job opportunity.”

  “Yes, she does. You’re mad because I met her the other day and didn’t tell you.”

  “I don’t care who you—” She stopped, let her shoulders sag. “That’s not true. I do care. Jessica is a sore spot with me. But I’m not mad at you, just hurt.”

  Clay rose from his chair and crossed the kitchen in three strides. Wrapping his arms around Sierra’s waist, he pulled her to him.

  “You have every right to be hurt. I was an insensitive dope. I thought I was avoiding an argument with you. Instead, I lost your trust.”

  “You haven’t lost my trust. Maybe dented it.”

  “I promise, if I see or hear from Jessica again, not that I plan to, I’ll tell you.” He squeezed Sierra tight, needing her to squeeze him in return. She didn’t. “Interview with the company. If they make you an offer, I only ask you give me a chance to beat it.”

  “We’ll see.”

  He set her away from him and studied her face. “You won’t?”

  “No, I’ll see about interviewing. I’m not that interested in the job.”

  He kissed her, drank her in, was reborn when she at last responded.

  Given his choice, he’d carry her to his bedroom, make endless love to her until he wiped Jessica completely from her mind and heart. Unfortunately, they couldn’t leave Jamie in his high chair and there were a half dozen phone calls waiting for him to place the second he set foot in the office.

  “I’ll see you later.” He nuzzled her ear before reluctantly releasing her.

  She usually giggled when he did that and told him not to tickle her.

  “I’ll be in after lunch. I have to type up those new contracts for your signature. And I’m hoping to hear back from the TV stations. Did I tell you I might have a lead on some grant money?”

  She was all business. Normally, Clay liked talking shop with her. Today, it felt as if she’d erected a ten-foot wall to keep him at a distance and her heart safe.

  * * *

  SIERRA PERCHED ON the wingback chair in her family’s living room, a pile of unopened gifts on one side of her, a pile of opened gifts on the other. Jamie sat on the floor, shredding wrapping paper and unraveling bows. When Cassie and Isa weren’t fussing over him, they picked through the gifts, deciding which one Sierra should open next.

  The women guests huddled close to her, oohing and ahhing at the appropriate moments. The men occupied the farther corners of the room, conversing amongst themselves and participating as little as possible.

  Sierra was reminded of the wedding last month when Caitlin and Sage had sat in this same room, opening their gifts. She couldn’t believe all the trouble they’d gone through for her. In a week, they’d pulled together a baby shower that was better than anything she could have hoped for.

  The Powell house and ranch, a sad and lonely place for so many years, was bursting with people and activity and, most importantly, love. Not to mention children. From none to five in barely over a year. That had to be some kind of record.

  Seeing her brothers and father content warmed Sierra’s heart. She’d been happy like them for a while, too. Then, she’d found out Jessica was back in Mustang Valley and Clay had had a meeting with her. Sierra really didn’t think anything had transpired between them other than signing the form.

  It was the what-might-happen that had her sleeping poorly, phone-interviewing for a job she had no interest in and watching Clay’s every move, searching for telltale signs that he was sneaking away to be with Jessica.

  “Open this one.” Cassie set a large box in front of Sierra. “It’s from Grandpa.”

  She pasted a happy smile on her face and attacked the wrapping paper. “Dad, this is huge and heavy.” The plain cardboard box containing the gift revealed nothing about its contents.

  “I hope Jamie likes it,” he said.

  Sierra cut through the tape, opened the top of the box and peered inside. “What! You didn’t.” She rolled her eyes. He was absolutely hopeless. “A saddle? You bought him a saddle?”

  Jamie came over to investigate.

  “Let me see that.” Clay scooted forward from where he’d been sitting on the couch. He pulled a child-size saddle from the box, holding on to it by the horn for everyone to see. “Look, Jamie, now all we need is a pony.”

  “No pony!” Sierra protested.

  The women agreed. The men acted like they didn’t hear.

  “Thanks, Wayne,” Clay said, still admiring the saddle and showing it to Jamie.

  “Yeah, thanks, Dad,” Sierra muttered.

  “I didn’t know what toys to get him.” Her father’s pleased-with-himself grin stretched from ear to ear.

  “I’m surprised no one here got Jamie boots,” Blythe remarked.

  Ethan’s face instantly drooped.

  Sierra glowered at him. “Don’t tell me.”

  “A cowboy needs boots.”

  Sierra wanted to be mad, but it was impossible in the presence of such love and generosity. She was truly blessed.

  “Open this one.” Isa handed Sierra a shirt box wrapped in paper with cartoon horses galloping over plains. “It doesn’t say who it’s from.”

  A card lay atop a miniature cowboy outfit, complete with Western shirt, jeans and even chaps, all about three sizes too big for Jamie.

  “How adorable,” Caitlin crooned.

  Isa held the card out to Sierra.

  “You go ahead and read it, honey.” She was busy admiring the chaps, which appeared custom-made.

  “It says ‘to Jamie from Grandpa.’”

  “Dad! Another present?”

  “Huh?” Wayne squinted at the card. “I didn’t buy that.”

  A jolt went through Sierra, and the chaps fell into her lap.

  Not now, not yet, not today.r />
  Her gaze flew to Clay. He knew, too.

  Before either of them could react, Blythe dropped the bombshell. “It’s from Jamie’s other grandfather. He asked me to bring it.”

  “Other grandfather?” Isa examined the card as if it held the answer.

  No one else spoke. Moved. Breathed.

  “Yes, dear. Clay’s father.”

  “Dammit to hell!” Gavin slapped his thighs and shot from his chair. “What’s that bastard doing sending Jamie a present?”

  “Sweetheart, the girls.” Sage’s eyes cut to their daughters.

  Blythe looked stricken. Her fingers covered her mouth, and her cheeks drained of color.

  Sierra’s father’s cheeks flushed a vivid red.

  As if by silent consensus, everyone not a Powell or Duvall or married to one left the room.

  “Cassie, would you and Isa take Jamie to the den for me, please?” Sierra was amazed at the steadiness of her voice.

  They did as she asked, grabbing some of the new toys.

  “Why would Duvall send a gift?” Gavin repeated. He was up and pacing the floor.

  “He’s Jamie’s grandfather,” Clay said.

  “I wish he wasn’t.”

  “Gavin!” Sage gasped.

  “That man is a snake.”

  “Watch what you say,” Clay warned, rising from the sofa. “You may be my business partner and buddy but I won’t tolerate you insulting my family.”

  “I thought you hated him, too.”

  “I don’t. I was angry at him. But I’ve since learned he’s not entirely responsible for what happened to you.”

  “You’re screwed in the head if you think that.”

  “Enough,” Ethan barked at Gavin. “Sit down, both of you, and shut up.”

  “You’re siding with Clay?”

  “I’m refereeing.”

  Clay sat. Gavin resumed pacing.

  “I’m sorry,” Blythe murmured miserably. “When he asked me to deliver the gift, I didn’t think it would be a problem. Considering you’ve reconciled, and he’s been seeing Jamie.”

  “You let him near Jamie?” Gavin raged at Sierra. “How could you?”

  She straightened her spine defensively. “I know how you feel about Bud—”

  “I assumed I felt the same as you.”

  “It’s my fault,” Clay interjected. “I insisted on Jamie meeting my dad. Sierra didn’t want him to.”

  “But you still allowed it?” Gavin demanded of her.

  He was Sierra’s big brother, used to ordering her around. She was tired of it, of all the men in her life thinking they knew what was best for her, including her old boss. Who was Ken Stevenson to judge how fit she’d be as a mother?

  “I did allow it, and I’m glad. Bud is a good grandfather to Jamie.”

  “He’s a thief.”

  Sierra stood and glared at Gavin, hands on her hips. She refused to let him intimidate her. “He gave us fifteen more months with Mom we wouldn’t have had without that heart transplant.”

  “Then he stole our land.”

  “He did no such thing.” All eyes turned to Sierra’s father, his earlier flush replaced by a mask of pain and devastation. “I lost our land.”

  “What are you talking about?” Some of the razor-sharp steel had left Gavin’s voice.

  Yes, Sierra thought, what was her father talking about?

  “Never mind.” He turned his head to stare out the window.

  “Wayne.” Clay’s gentle tone was in stark contrast to all the yelling. “It’s time. They have a right to know, and you have a duty to tell them.”

  Her father coughed, and Sierra saw he was biting back a sob.

  “It’s all right, Dad.”

  “No. Nothing’s been right for years.”

  His listlessness reminded her too much of those desperate days during his depression. “You don’t have to say anything.”

  “I couldn’t make the payments. The loan was due, then overdue, then long overdue.” He cleared his throat, sniffed, returned his attention to the room. “Bud gave me plenty of chances. I didn’t take them. I’d lost your mother, lost myself to grief, then the business. I couldn’t have scraped enough money together to buy back ten acres, much less all six hundred. I was sure if you kids found out, you’d leave me, too, like your mother did, and I’d be all alone.”

  “You let him sell our land?” Gavin’s incredulousness mirrored Sierra’s and everyone else’s.

  Her father was mistaken. Confused. He wouldn’t have intentionally allowed an investor to buy their land and then tell everyone Bud stole it. That would be…a lie.

  “Dad,” she insisted, “don’t feel the need to cover for Bud just because I let him see Jamie.”

  “I’m not covering for Bud.” Her father’s sad gaze pleaded for understanding. “He’s covering for me.”

  “You’re wrong, he stole our land. Who would allow people to think the worst of them all these years if they did nothing wrong?”

  “Someone who’s a better friend to me than I was to him.”

  Sierra covered her face with her hands.

  Gavin sat on the couch, then sank defeated into the cushions.

  “I’m the one responsible,” Blythe said softly, her eyes misting. “I didn’t realize Bud would have to sell your land to settle our divorce. I thought you were making the payments.”

  “Not your fault, either, Blythe. I should have leveled with my kids. Been honest from the start.”

  Conversation continued around Sierra, but she hardly heard a word.

  Her father, not Bud, was responsible for them losing their land. Their cattle business. Their reputation. Their heritage. How could he? And how could he have committed such an appalling injustice to a friend? A man who’d given him money for his wife’s heart transplant surgery.

  “I apologize, Clay. And to you, Blythe.”

  They assured Sierra’s father they held no grudge against him.

  What about Sierra and her brothers? Didn’t their father owe them an apology, too?

  Their lives would have been entirely different if he’d told the truth. Her brothers and Clay would have remained friends rather than become enemies. She and Clay wouldn’t have had to hide their affair. He and Bud wouldn’t have been estranged for years. She could have come home when she got pregnant instead of giving Jamie up for adoption.

  Oh, God, what had her father done?

  She thought of Clay’s betrayal when he’d reconciled with Jessica and married her. It was nothing compared to this. He hadn’t wiped out two families.

  Suddenly chilled to the bone, Sierra rubbed her upper arms.

  “Dad felt awful about having to sell your land,” Clay said. “He wanted to extend the loan again, but he lost money in the stock market.”

  Sierra’s hands stilled. “You knew about this?”

  “Dad told me last month.”

  “Another conversation you decided to keep from me?” She ignored the stares from her family members.

  “I didn’t keep it from you,” Clay said, his voice annoyingly reasonable. “I told you more than once to ask your dad.”

  “You didn’t say he was lying to me.”

  “It wasn’t my place. And I’m not sure you’d have believed me if I had. If anything, you’d have packed up and moved out.”

  True enough, but that didn’t temper her mounting anger and resentment.

  Suddenly, the room tilted at an odd angle. Dizzy and nauseous, Sierra caught her head as it fell forward.

  Clay appeared beside her. “Are you all right?”

  “No, I’m not.” The world as she knew it was forever changed.

  He stroked her hair. “We’re going to sort through this.”

  She almost laughed. Hysterically. He’d said sort through this as if they were evaluating a collection of old odds and ends in the garage. “I don’t think it’s as simple as that.”

  “Sierra, sweetie,” her father implored, “I can see you’re ups
et.”

  Upset hardly described her current emotional state. She stared at him. His features were the same as always, and, yet, in some ways, they were those of a total stranger’s.

  Her legs started to tremble. “I have to go.”

  Clay took her elbow and steadied her.

  She pulled away and snapped, “I don’t need your help. Some truthfulness, now that I could use.”

  He stepped back, her hurtful remark hitting the bull’s-eye dead center. She stormed off.

  Gavin called after her. Ethan, too. She didn’t answer.

  The other guests had assembled in the kitchen. Sierra hurried past them and out the door. Reaching the sanctuary of the patio, she burst into tears.

  So much deception. All of them. Clay, her father, Bud, the Stevensons. And let’s not forget herself. Was she any better than her father just because she’d come clean sooner?

  Poor Jamie deserved better role models than the ones he had.

  What would Dr. Brewster say when she heard about this?

  Sierra did laugh then. Bitterly.

  “Hey.”

  She jerked at hearing Clay. “What are you doing here?”

  He approached slowly, concern etched on his features. “I hate seeing you distressed.”

  “Then get back in the house because I’m going to be distressed for a while.”

  “Come on. Let’s take a walk.”

  “I don’t want to walk.”

  “What about a glass of water?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Check on Jamie for me.”

  “Is that all?”

  She faced him. “Clay, there are just some things you can’t control. My entire life going to hell in a handbasket is one of them.”

  “I’ll be waiting inside.”

  She’d wanted him gone, and she’d got it.

  A moment later, she was alone, drifting in what felt like an alternative reality. She hadn’t meant to bite Clay’s head off. He was trying to be supportive in her time of need.

  Why, then, couldn’t she turn to him and accept that support?

  Because he’d been secretly communicating with Jessica and had had a meeting with her.

  And she’d borne Clay’s son and gave him up for adoption without telling Clay.

  How could the two of them have a secure and happy future with a foundation based on deception?