My Girl

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My Girl Page 9

by Jacquie Biggar


  “Babe, let’s get you inside. Worrying won’t do you any good. Matthew will handle this.” Tony wrapped an arm around her shoulders and attempted to lead her back to the barn, but she balked.

  “We’re fine,” she said, “feel this.” She guided his hand under hers just as the baby made another roll.

  Tony’s eyes widened and a slow smile lit his face. “Damn, that kid’s going to be a football player.”

  Sophia laughed. “You mean she, don’t you? And I rather fancy a baseball player in the family, thank you very much.”

  He pulled her close and kissed her with such tenderness it brought tears to her eyes. “Boy or girl, as long as you’re happy, I’ll be happy.”

  And that was one of the many reasons she adored her husband. “I love you.”

  He kissed her again, the gentleness tinged with passion. “Forever,” he murmured, then took her hand. “Now, are you going to let me take care of my wife and child, please?”

  Sophia wanted to follow him wherever he led, but Trish had her worried. “I need to check on Trish. She was acting strange—I’m concerned what she might do.”

  Matthew appeared at her shoulder. “Her father is behind Aaron’s arrest, we all know it.” His look suggested he tarred all the Sylvesters with the same brush. “I’m following Stan into the station now. He’d better have the judge on speed dial, because Aaron is not spending the night in some jail cell.”

  Pride in Matt swelled in Sophia’s chest. The two brothers might argue whether the sky was blue, but when it came down to the crunch, they were there for each other. She could almost hear Grandma Maddie saying, “Nothin’ thicker than blood, child. You remember that. We Shaughnessys stick together, no matter what.”

  “You need a hand?” Tony asked, his palm warm on the small of her back.

  Matt’s gaze softened on Sophia. “No. You better take your bride home. She looks tuckered.”

  “That’s just what I was telling her.” Tony grinned.

  Sophia flapped her hands in mock frustration. “I’m having a baby, women do it all the time. Don’t worry so much.” She turned to Tony. “Go. In case he needs the voice of reason.” She was well aware Matthew had a short fuse. “I’m fine. I’ll find Trish and we’ll make tea for when you come home.” She looked at the milling party guests. “After I say goodbye to our visitors.”

  Tony nodded, awareness that he’d married an independent woman shining in his eyes. “Okay, but promise you’ll take it easy. We can clean this mess tom…”

  “Help, help. Someone help.” A cry sounded from the back of the barn.

  Sophia’s heart jumped. She glanced from Matt to Tony, then all three, along with most of the crowd dove into the darkness in search of the injured person.

  “Where are you?” Matthew shouted.

  “Here, down the hill,” a woman called. “Hurry, please. She’s not moving.”

  Matt half slid, half ran down the slope, Sophia struggling to keep up. What happened? Who was hurt? But a premonition inside told her before they reached the body lying at the bottom of the embankment.

  Trish.

  19

  Trish woke to a pounding headache. She attempted to roll over in bed and groaned, her arms and legs on fire. What the…?

  “Take it easy, dear. You’ve had a nasty spill.” Her mother placed a cool cloth on her forehead and brushed the hair away from her face. “You’re lucky nothing was broken. What in the world were you doing wandering around in the dark like that? You could have been… attacked, or something.”

  Trish would have smiled, but her head hurt too much. Mother always believed the worst of every situation. If one thought about it, maybe she was wise to take that strategy—at least she’d never be disappointed. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to worry you. How long have I been… sleeping?” She hesitated to say unconscious, not wanting to upset her mother any more than she was.

  “Not long. The Shaughnessy kids found you and brought you to the hacienda. I don’t know what I would have done without Consuela. She looked you over and assured your father and me you would be fine after a rest.” She patted her chest, looking as pale as Trish felt. “You gave me such a fright.”

  Her father. It came back to her in a rush. Confronting Kyle. His ultimatum. The shove. Because that’s what it had been. He’d deliberately pushed her down that hill. What kind of man did that? A psychopath, that’s who.

  She tried to sit up, but her head exploded in agony and she collapsed. A careful examination of the left side of her head with her fingers told her the reason; a tender area about the size of her fist, painful to the touch.

  She winced and her mother tut-tutted, pulling her hand away from the injury. “Don’t touch it now, you’ll only make it worse,” she admonished, handing over a couple of pills and a glass of water. “Take these, they’ll help.”

  Trish wanted to say no—she’d never been a fan of self-medicating—but it hurt too much to argue. She accepted the pills and swallowed them dry, not up to lifting her head again. “Thanks, Mom,” she whispered. Vulnerability tightened her throat. “Where’s Father?” She wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. “I need to talk to him.”

  Her mother sat back, cupping the glass in her hand. “He went to our room to pack. He said now that you are injured it’s time to go home. As though we should have been here in the first place,” she added under her breath.

  Trish stared at her. “What is that supposed to mean, Mom? The Shaughnessys have gone out of their way to make us feel welcome.” And look at how we paid them back.

  “Well, Trish, I mean really, do I look like the cowboy type to you?”

  No. There were many labels she could apply to her mother; vain, pompous, snobbish, but never kind or friendly, as Trish had found country folk to be. Of the two, she knew which she preferred.

  “I really need to see Father. Could you please ask him to come to my room?”

  She must have looked pathetic enough, her mom rose with only minor grumbling and glided to the door. She glanced over her shoulder, a hand on the doorknob. “I hope you’ve come to your senses after this unfortunate incident. This is no place to raise a child.” With that, she slipped out and gently closed the door.

  So, she knew. Not surprising really. It was only a matter of months after her affair with Aaron that she’d admitted to her pregnancy. Tired and depressed, she hadn’t raised a fuss when her father insisted on the merger with Kyle. She wished she had now. And why him? He wasn’t like her dad’s normal business partners, rough around the edges, arrogant. Since having Madeline, she’d come out of her funk and realized there was no way Kyle was going to have a part in her daughter’s upbringing, but she hadn’t had the courage to break it off—until now.

  A sharp knock later, her father strode into the room. At least he had the grace to look uncomfortable with her injury.

  “Father. Thanks for taking the time to see me.”

  “No need for sarcasm, young lady. I told your mother to stay with you until we leave.” He edged closer to the bed. “How do you feel?”

  She smiled wryly. “Like I rolled down a hill. Why are you leaving?”

  He sat in her mother’s chair and patted her hand. “Not me, all of us. How can I take care of my family among these… these criminals? Let’s get you home to Madeline and let justice run its course.”

  Appalled, she stared at him like he’d suddenly sprouted two heads. How could he even consider leaving Aaron in jail? The father she’d liked and admired as an innocent child was nowhere to be found in the shrewd gaze of the man holding her hand.

  Disgusted, she jerked free. “You’re behind this, aren’t you? I’m not leaving, Dad. Aaron is Maddie’s father; he deserves my loyalty. I’m not exactly sure what you’re up to, but if it has something to do with Shaughnessy land, forget it. Any major decisions are put to a vote at the stockholder’s meeting, and since I hold a number of shares as well as the confidence of many of the members, you’d stand a good
chance of being overruled. You don’t want that, do you?”

  Trish hated to play hardball with her own parent, but he’d left her without a choice. She had no proof that he’d staged Aaron’s arrest, but something told her she was on the right track. He’d lost a lot of money when the land deal fell through last year—enough that he had to sell some of his shares in the company. Shares she and her brother had quietly bought up to keep the majority in their family. But she wasn’t above using them to stop this nonsense before it went any further.

  Her father’s genial expression faded to irritation. He rose and paced the room, lifting a vase here and a book there. Finally, he turned and held out his hands. “What do you want from me, daughter? I need this deal. There are people who… could make life difficult if I fail.”

  This is what she’d been afraid of; he’d tangled with the wrong investors. “Dad, Kyle pushed me down that hill. Is he part of whatever is going on?”

  He stared at her, horrified. “I… I would never condone this. You must believe me.” He dropped his head into his hands.

  Empathy rose, choking out the anger. He’d always run his company with firm, capable hands. The downturn in the market, some bad investments and his age had all played a part in his downfall. There had to be a way he could save face and still help Aaron.

  “We’ll figure it out, Dad. We’re family.”

  20

  Aaron rubbed his red wrists and glanced sideways at Matthew as he climbed behind the wheel of the ranch pickup. “Thanks for bailing me out.” Something he hoped never to have to say again.

  Matt eyed his hands before flicking up to his face. “I think that’s a Shaughnessy first; arrested as a horse thief.” He shook his head and turned the key, waiting until the truck started with a low grumble before shifting into reverse. “Want a coffee for the road?”

  Aaron grimaced at the pointed barb, then nodded. “Sure, thanks. Jailhouse coffee is about as good as it sounds.” Thank goodness, the county judge was an old family friend. He’d climbed out of bed long enough to sign the bail bond with a stern warning to stay in the area until the trial. No problem there, Aaron wasn’t going anywhere but home.

  He cleared his throat. “I know what you’re thinking—”

  “That the sheriff is a prick for arresting you? Yeah, he and I had words about that.”

  Aaron stared at him, shocked. “So you believe me?”

  Matt signaled into the drive-thru of a popular coffee shop. “Trust me, bro, if I caught you stealing anything, much less ranch stock, the sheriff would be the least of your problems.”

  Was that a yes, then? He’d spent so many years trying to live up to his big brother’s image that he’d lost his way for a while. It took losing out on the land deal, which he was grateful for now, and Trish to make him realize he wasn’t Matthew. He didn’t have to be perfect all the time; he just had to be himself.

  He waited until Matt placed their order through the intercom before trying again. “You didn’t really answer the question; do you think I took your damn horses or not?”

  Matt slowly rolled the truck forward in the surprisingly long lineup for that time of night. “If you have to ask, you’re dumber than I thought.” He grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “idiot,” before rolling down his window to accept the drinks and a box filled with fresh-baked donuts. “Here,” he said, handing the lot over to Aaron so he could get back on the road for home.

  Country music played quietly as they devoured the sugary treats, then Matt sighed. “I needed that, bet you did too. Prison food as good as they say it is?” His grin held more than a touch of mockery.

  “Ha, ha. You’re a real riot.” Aaron’s shoulders eased. “So, what’s next?”

  Matt held up his cup. “You mean other than my coffee?” He took a satisfying slurp, returned it to the cupholder, and turned down the radio. “We’re going to find out who set you up and make them sorry they tangled with a Shaughnessy, that’s what.”

  Aaron’s throat tightened. For so long he’d tried to compete for attention as the middle child in a family of overachievers, always the odd man out. Now, with a few simple words, Matt assuaged years of balled up loneliness and isolation in his gut. The resentment he’d carried like a lead weight dispersed, leaving him lighter… happier. If that’s what getting arrested produced, he wished he’d done it years ago. “Thanks, man,” he said around the thick ball of emotion choking him. He cleared his throat. “There’s something I need to tell you.” He took a drink of his coffee, trying to get his thoughts in order. “I found out the other night I’m a father—a baby girl.” Saying it out loud made it seem more real somehow. He grinned at the shock on Matt’s face. “I caught you off-guard. First time that’s happened.”

  “Huh?” Matt almost missed the turn for the ranch. He cranked the wheel hard and the truck swayed alarmingly, the rear-end skidding sideways on the gravel road.

  Aaron swore and grabbed the dash, his foot punching the floor in a search for the phantom brake on his side of the vehicle. “Holy shit, you trying to kill us, bro?” Once he got his heart out of his mouth and released his death-grip, he leaned back and laughed. “Whew, that got the old adrenaline pumping. I take it you’re surprised.”

  Matthew pulled over and stopped, throwing the gearshift into park. “Are you sure? Maybe it’s some woman’s way of taking you for a few bucks. What does she want?”

  Aaron wasn’t sure if he should be insulted his brother thought so little of his choice of women friends, or amused. “Wow. So, you think the only type of woman that would go out with me is after our nebulous wealth? That hurts, man. Truly hurts.”

  “Always the funny guy,” Matt muttered. “Seriously, there are tests out there to verify paternity. We’ll book an appointment and have your… friend take the child in to authenticate her claim. If it’s true, we’ll figure out what to do from there.”

  Aaron’s ire rose and fell like a deflated balloon. It was Matthew’s nature to take charge, he never even considered anyone might have a different opinion—poor Pippa, she was in for a hard time growing up with him for a father.

  He handed Matt his coffee and took a reviving sip of his. “It’s been a long day, I guess we’re both on edge.” He turned to meet his brother’s gaze. “The mother of my child is Trish, she told me the other night, at dinner. At first, I couldn’t believe it either, but she wouldn’t lie to me, Matt. The baby is mine.”

  “Well,” Matt said, holding out his hand. “I guess congratulations are in order then.”

  Aaron grasped the hand and reeled his brother in for a heartfelt hug. “Thanks, man. I plan on asking Trish for a second chance—she’s the one, you know?”

  Matt leaned back, stared him in the eye, and slowly nodded. “Don’t let anyone stand in your way then, buddy. The love of your life won’t wait forever.”

  Yeah, that’s what worried Aaron. They still had to get past her father and the douchebag she called a fiancé.

  By the time they arrived home it was nearing midnight and the only light came from the kitchen. Aaron was tempted to sneak in through the front door and avoid his family until morning, but knew they’d be worrying about him. Besides, maybe Trish was there. He should have saved her a donut. His heart kicked up a notch and he grinned. He was acting like a lovesick fool and it felt great. This time, he was going to make sure she didn’t get away. He planned to ask her to marry him. Just thinking it made his palms sweat—he had it bad.

  “Looks like you have a welcoming committee,” Matthew said, swinging to a stop in the courtyard.

  “I noticed,” Aaron admitted. “What should I say?” he asked, suddenly hit by nerves. He stared out of the windshield at the flickering lights behind the kitchen curtain. “I don’t want to be a disappointment.”

  “Aaron.” Matt waited until he had his attention. “You may be my brother, but you’re an idiot. Those people in there adore the ground you walk on. There’s nothing you could ever say or do to change that.
Now, come on. I’m ready to tuck my wife into bed.”

  The kitchen was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of warm apple pie. Sophia and Consuela leaned against one side of the island and looked up, their faces bursting with joy.

  “Bueno, you’re home,” Consuela cried, clapping her hands.

  Tony and Cassandra turned on their bar stools, Tony holding a forkful of pie to his mouth.

  Cass slid off the stool and hurried over. She hugged Aaron, then slipped under Matt’s welcoming arms and gave him a lingering kiss. “I see you worked your magic.”

  Matt’s gaze flicked to Aaron before returning to his beautiful wife. “We cast a spell over the judge, that’s for sure. Got any of that pie left? Rescuing pains-in-the-you-know-where takes a lot of energy.”

  Cass laughed. “I think we saved a piece or two.” She tightened her hold on Matt before letting go. “Come on before your sister beats you to them.”

  Aaron followed the lovebirds and tried to rein in his disappointment that Trish wasn’t with his family. He’d hoped she would be at least somewhat worried about him sitting in a prison cell. Slight exaggeration since Stan had placed him in an interrogation room with access to a real bathroom, but still…

  He suffered through Sophia’s jokes and lapped up Consuela’s love shown with a plate-sized slice of pie and a huge scoop of vanilla ice cream. “This almost makes up for tonight’s horror show.” He took a big bite and let the flavors explode in his mouth before winking at Consuela. “I knew I was your favorite.”

  As expected, his family erupted in a cacophony of protests, allowing him to eat his pie in peace. When he was done, he straightened and rubbed his full belly. “Dang, that was good. I didn’t get time to eat at the dance, so this hit the spot.” He looked at the suddenly serious faces. “None of that. It’s over, for now anyway. I was having a good time with Trish until… what?” he asked, picking up on a weird vibe in the room. He frowned at Sophia. Something was wrong. “Where’s Trish?”

 

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