The Night before Baby

by Smith, Karen Rose

  Instead of the matching excitement she expected from Lucas, he frowned. “And what did you tell him?”

  “I told him I would be delighted to be an official member of the legal department at Barrington. If I pass.”

  The sound of the car on the road emphasized Lucas’s silence until he asked, “And what about our baby?”

  “What about our baby?” Olivia didn’t understand the hard edge in Lucas’s question.

  “Our child deserves a full-time mother, not a woman who gives her best at work and leaves leftovers for her family.”

  She hadn’t really thought about her work in regards to her child. For so long she had been focused on her education, passing the bar, finding a good position. “You want me to waste all the years I studied and worked for this?”

  “I want you to realize you’re going to be a mother with a different set of priorities.”

  “And just why can’t I be both?” She felt her temper rising and her defenses clanging firmly in place.

  Lucas shook his head. “I don’t see how that’s possible. I don’t see how you can give a child what he needs when you’re not there.”

  “So all the responsibility falls on me?”

  “No. Of course not. But especially for the first six months—do you want a stranger caring for our child?”

  The shock of being a mother was still so new to her, she hadn’t thought beyond looking forward to feeling her baby move the first time. When she thought about labor and delivery, she mostly felt frightened. She hadn’t yet read the book Lucas had bought for her on the first year of a child’s life, and she wondered if he had.

  “When are you going to tell Rex you’re pregnant?” he asked. “Or were you planning on working up until the day you deliver and return the day afterward?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!”

  “You have to make some decisions, Olivia. And you have to make them soon.”

  The briskness in Lucas’s tone urged her to take a good look at him. She couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses. His arm was tense as he held the wheel. Was he the type of man who always had to get his own way? Who couldn’t see her point of view? Did she really know him any better today than the day she’d moved in with him?

  She knew more about him. But did she really know what drove him, what he wanted in life besides being a father? Maybe this weekend would give her some answers.

  The landscape changed but Lucas’s profile and his set jaw did not. Instead of palms swaying in bunches or rows, fir trees rose high, forestful after forestful. Snow had melted from the road, but the fields were still white. Lucas switched on a CD and Olivia tried to relax to the music. But besides the tension between her and Lucas, she was becoming more nervous about the weekend. What if these people didn’t like her? What if they’d already made a moral judgment about her?

  As they approached Flagstaff, she took another glance at Lucas. They’d changed into comfortable clothes before they’d left Barrington. Lucas’s snapbutton shirt, jeans and black boots, his suede jacket and black Stetson tossed into the back seat of the Jeep, reminded her he had many facets she didn’t know.

  Eventually Lucas turned off the main highway. After a mile or so he made a right onto a snow-packed road. In the headlights, she caught glimpses of fence lining the white fields and snow lying heavy on pine boughs. A house came into view, a bright porch light illuminating the front. Different from the adobe and red-tiled buildings in Phoenix, it looked as she imagined a ranch house would look. It was tall and square with a portion sticking out from the side that must be an addition. White with black shutters, its wraparound front porch gave it a welcoming air.

  She hoped she wasn’t letting her imagination run away with her.

  A huge floodlight glowed atop a large white barn and cast shadows on another building that looked like a garage.

  Parking at the front walk, Lucas glanced down at her sneakers. When he climbed out, he opened the back door and shrugged into his jacket, setting the Stetson on his head. Quickly Olivia grabbed the colorful, Navaho-pattern wool jacket she’d bought yesterday, and slid it on before she got out. Lucas was beside her as they started up the snow-packed walk. As her foot slipped on ice, he caught her elbow and before she realized his intention, he scooped her up in his arms.

  “Lucas, what will everybody think—”

  “You care too much what everybody thinks. Would you rather fall?”

  She knew he was thinking of the baby. “No. But you’re not going to carry me around all weekend, either.”

  “I’m sure Mim has a pair of old boots. You’re about the same size.” With that, he carried her up the walk and didn’t stop until he’d mounted the porch steps and deposited her at the door.

  His Stetson shadowed his eyes and when he stepped away, she had no idea what he was thinking. She hated this discord between them, the silence that wouldn’t be filled with surface conversation. She’d discovered when something was bothering Lucas, he didn’t talk unless he had something decisive to say.

  He didn’t ring the bell or knock, but walked right in. No sooner had they stepped inside, than she heard pairs of scurrying feet. A young voice called, “Lucas, is that you?”

  A few moments later they were surrounded by four boys who were studying her carefully. As she smiled at them, a couple came into the living room.

  “Everyone, this is Olivia,” Lucas said. As he capped each boy’s head and ruffled their hair, he began, “This is Jerry, Russ, Kurt and Trevor.”

  The woman came forward, gave Lucas a hug and extended her hand to Olivia. “I’m Mim Carson. This is my husband, Wyatt. We’re glad you could come.”

  Mim’s hair was as black as onyx with fine lines of gray running through it. It was longer than Olivia’s but completely straight and banded in a low ponytail. Her high cheekbones spoke of Native American ancestry. When she squeezed Olivia’s hand, hers was warm, her dark brown eyes welcoming.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Olivia replied, meaning it.

  Wyatt took her hand then and pumped vigorously. “Lucas didn’t tell us you were a real beauty.” His brown eyes twinkled under heavy brown brows. He was a burly man with a beard, as tall as Lucas.

  Before she could respond, the smallest boy, Russ, tugged on Lucas’s arm. “Can you take us riding tomorrow? Please?”

  The boy who was standing on the edge of the welcoming circle—Trevor. she remembered—wrinkled his nose. “Don’t be a twit. He’ll probably take her.”

  There was silence as Lucas took off his hat and hung it on the rack by the door. Then he said to Trevor, “I promised I would take all of you riding the next time I came—weather permitting. It’s supposed to be clear tomorrow, so after you finish your chores, we can go.”

  “That’ll be afternoon,” Trevor complained.

  “Probably. Did you have other plans?” Lucas asked with a smile.

  Jerry, the oldest of the boys, said, “Don’t mind him. He’s just mad ’cause he couldn’t stay longer with his mom tonight. She got a job and had to work.”

  “You don’t know nothin’,” Trevor snapped and headed for the stairs.

  “Trevor...” Mim called.

  “I’ll go talk to him,” Lucas offered.

  After Wyatt and his wife exchanged a look, she nodded.

  Olivia felt awkward as Lucas climbed the wooden staircase. The three boys were studying her curiously.

  “A fine welcome this is,” Wyatt mumbled. “C’mon, Olivia. Take that coat off. Your hands were cold. We’ll build a fire and get you warmed up while the boys help Mim get supper on the table.”

  Mim patted her shoulder. “We really are glad you came. Make yourself at home.”

  As Olivia shrugged out of her jacket, she realized that this looked exactly like a home should. The long couch in tones of red, navy and deep green, with its thunderbird design, looked comfortable. The scatter rugs on the hardwood floor carried various colors with Native American patterns. Two other chairs, one
a recliner, one a rocker, sat at angles to the sofa. All the furniture was grouped around a slate rock fireplace and chimney that added more texture and natural color to the room.

  “I hope you can forgive Trevor’s rudeness,” Wyatt said as he moved the black fire screen. “I don’t know if Lucas told you anything about the boys...”

  She crossed to the fireplace and laid her jacket across the rocker. “He told me about their backgrounds.”

  “Did he mention he and Trevor have formed some kind of bond?”

  She shook her head.

  “Trevor was really having a tough time before Lucas’s last visit. But he took the boy out riding, and when they came back, something was different. And since then, Trevor hasn’t been quite as fractious.”

  There had been a note that had characterized Lucas’s voice when he’d talked about Trevor. She’d love to go upstairs and listen in on the conversation, but she knew she couldn’t.

  Wyatt took two logs from the holder on the hearth and positioned them on the kindling. “How are you feeling? Lucas told us you were having a problem with morning sickness.”

  “It’s been better,” Olivia murmured, wondering just what else Lucas had told them.

  Straightening, Wyatt picked up a metal box from the mantel and took off the lid. “Lucas explained what happened, Olivia, and that you’re staying with him.”

  She couldn’t help the blush that rushed to her cheeks. “We’re trying to get to know each other.”

  With a wry grin Wyatt picked a match from the box. “How’s it going?”

  Olivia got the feeling that honesty was important in this home. “Sometimes good. Sometimes awkward.”

  “But there’s a chance for the two of you?”

  When she thought about Lucas and his kisses, about his tender care of her and her growing feelings for him, she answered, “There’s definitely a chance.”

  “Don’t let the boy steamroll you. He can be headstrong and stubborn.” Wyatt paused. “But he has a good heart.”

  “There are tons of questions I’d like to ask you. But I know I have to learn about Lucas from Lucas.”

  “You’re a wise young lady.” Striking the match, Wyatt lit the kindling under the logs.

  A warmth glowed in Olivia’s heart because she felt she had just earned a very important seal of approval. “Maybe I should see if your wife needs help in the kitchen.”

  After he positioned the fire screen in place, Wyatt sat on the rocker and motioned to the chair. “She and the boys have their routine down to a science. Stay and chat with me a while.”

  About fifteen minutes later, Mim beckoned to them. Wyatt suggested, “Go on in. I’ll call Lucas and Trevor.”

  As Olivia crossed to the kitchen, she realized how much she liked Wyatt. They’d talked about Flagstaff and the differences between living here rather than in Phoenix, how the Phoenix area attracted retirees but how Flagstaff attracted tourists on their way to the Grand Canyon. She’d also learned the addition to the side of the house was Wyatt’s office. He was an accountant as well as a rancher.

  Olivia pushed open the swinging door into the kitchen and found a large dining room along with the more functional area with appliances. The cupboards were knotty pine, the counters a soft blue. A long trestle table sat on blue-and-white vinyl flooring and the blue gingham curtains and appliance covers added to the homey feel.

  “C’mon in,” Mim said with a smile as she carried a huge bowl of mashed potatoes to the table. “Jerry will show you your place.”

  Seated between five-year-old Russ and seven-year-old Kurt, Olivia smiled at Lucas as he and Trevor took their seats. He arched a brow, but his expression was still serious. She wondered if his somberness had to do with her or with his talk with Trevor.

  Conversation flowed as Mim passed a platter of roasted chicken from the lazy Susan in the middle of the table. Glasses of milk sat at all the places, even Lucas’s, and Olivia had to smile.

  Wyatt was talking to Lucas about the price of feed when Russ reached for his glass of milk. It tipped, clattered against Olivia’s, and both spilled across the table and onto her jeans. She hopped up and grabbed her napkin but not before most of it dripped onto her legs.

  Jumping off his chair, Russ stared at her with wide green eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Don’t be mad.” His voice sounded as if he was ready to cry, and she thought she heard fear. This was the little boy who had been abused, and she imagined it had happened for much less than spilled milk.

  Everyone around the table was silent.

  “I’m not mad,” she said keeping her voice gentle. “Grab your napkin and help me catch it.”

  Russ just gaped at her for a moment, then moved to her side. As they saw the uselessness of their efforts, Mim brought them towels. In a few moments the table and floor were wiped clean.

  “Your jeans are all wet,” Jerry noted, as if she wasn’t aware of the cold material on her thighs.

  By her side, Russ stared up at her. With a worried look still in his eyes, he said again, “I’m sorry.”

  She crouched down to be at his eye level. “It’s okay, Russ. Jeans wash really well. The more they’re washed, the softer they get. Now why don’t you sit down and finish your supper before it gets cold. I’ll go change and be right back.”

  Russ gave her an uncertain smile then slid onto his chair.

  Pushing back his, Lucas stood. “I’ll get your suitcase from the Jeep.”

  “You’re in the second room on the right upstairs. Bring the jeans down and I’ll throw them in the washer,” Mim offered.

  As Lucas went outside, Olivia climbed the stairs, admiring the multigrained banister and wood trim. The door to her bedroom was open and she glimpsed an iron bedstead and a patchwork quilt.

  A few moments later, Lucas appeared with her suitcase and lifted it to the bed. “Did you bring another pair of jeans?”

  “I don’t travel quite as light as you do,” she teased. He hadn’t even brought a duffel bag.

  “I keep clothes here. It’s convenient.” He turned to leave but stopped at the door. “Thanks for taking it easy on Russ.”

  “Taking it easy? I imagine kids spill things a lot. And track mud into the house. And argue about bedtime. I’d better get used to it.” She studied Lucas’s face. “He was afraid I was going to hit him, wasn’t he?”

  “Russ wasn’t used to kindness before he came here. His father either hit or shouted, and he still expects that, especially from strangers.”

  “Well, he won’t get either from me. Don’t you know that?”

  “Sometimes you don’t know how a person will act until they’re faced with the situation,” he said noncommittally.

  Suddenly she understood that this weekend was much more than a visit to his childhood home. “Did you bring me here to include me in your life or to see if I passed some kind of test?”

  After a short silence, he answered, “Both.”

  She should have known to expect honesty from him, but she still felt hurt that he thought she needed a test. “I see.”

  “Olivia...”

  “It’s okay, Lucas. But now I’ll know to watch my step the rest of the weekend. You’d better go back down before they wonder what we’re doing.”

  “Not a whole lot,” he muttered with a scowl, and left the room.

  She felt like throwing something...or crying. Hormones again.

  After dessert, Olivia insisted on helping Mim clean up the kitchen so the boys could spend time with Lucas. As she cleared the table, she wondered if she’d offered in order to earn brownie points or if she would have offered anyway before her conversation with Lucas. Dam him. He had her second-guessing herself.

  While she and Mim worked together, Mim probed gently into her background, and Olivia didn’t mind. She asked questions, too, not about Lucas specifically but about this couple who had taken him in. She learned the ranch had been in Wyatt’s family for generations, and Mim couldn’t have children of their own.
So they took in others who need shelter and kindness for a while.

  The scene in the living room when Olivia had finished helping Mim stopped her in the kitchen doorway. Lucas, Trevor, Kurt and Jerry were sprawled on the floor in front of the fire playing dominoes. Wyatt held Russ on his lap and was reading him a story. A log popped in the grate sending up a leap of sparks.

  All her life, Olivia had wished for a brother or sister. As she’d grown older and realized her mother didn’t intend to marry again, she’d known she would never have either. She loved her mother dearly, but always dreamed of belonging to a large family. Watching the boys interact with Lucas and Wyatt, she understood that they had those kinds of bonds here even though they weren’t related by blood.

  When Wyatt closed the book, he said to Russ, “Bedtime for you and Kurt.”

  Russ saw her, slid off of Wyatt’s lap and came to her side. “You wanna see my trucks?”

  “Why would she want to see your trucks? Ya only got two.” Trevor shook his head. “What a baby.”

  Olivia understood that children craved attention. Russ was getting his in his own way, Trevor in another. “I bet Russ likes his trucks better than any of his other toys. Don’t you have something you treasure more than anything else?” she asked Trevor.

  “I got marbles,” he mumbled.

  “Any cat-eyes?”

  He looked surprised she knew about marbles. “Some.”

  Russ tugged on her hand. “You gonna come?”

  She smiled down at him. “Sure, I will.”

  As he led her up the steps, she felt Lucas’s gaze on her back.

  After all of the boys were tucked in for the night, Mim fixed herself and Olivia a cup of tea while Lucas and Wyatt drank another cup of coffee. Lucas had trouble keeping his mind on the subjects they discussed, rather than on Olivia. As a lull in the conversation enveloped them, Mim and Wyatt exchanged a look and stood.

  Mim said, “Lucas, I left extra pillows and a blanket in the laundry room.”

  Wyatt curved his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “He knows how to take care of himself, hon. G’night you two. We’ll see you in the morning.”