River from the City: A Small Town Contemporary Romance (Rydell River Ranch Series Book 6)

by Leanne Davis

  “Going forward. Duly noted. I get that. It’s a lot to handle. But tomorrow I will see her house, and all the things she got for the baby. And then I guess I’ll have to buy whatever is missing.”

  “How the hell will you know what to get?”

  “My mother is coming. The mother that Francine never visited or called once.” He sighed heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t fucking believe this is happening. This is my life now. How am I supposed to be a father? With her? I’m right back where I left. It feels like eons ago that I was in Seattle and Stanton Stores. I’m not that guy anymore. How do I go back to it? And move forward with a baby?”

  His voice cracked and his shoulders dropped as if the weight of the world was precariously perched on them. “I can’t do this, Kyomi. I don’t want to do any of this. I was always careful with birth control and now? I never had a moment to prepare for parenthood. To know how to feel. It’s just… here. He is here. It still feels completely unreal. All of it.”

  She gripped his arm. “I have to agree. I don’t think it’s fully sunken in for me either.”

  “How can we…?”

  She kissed his bicep through the material of his shirt. “Don’t. Don’t do that yet. Don’t stress over how we can do it. We just will. We will do whatever it takes. Don’t doubt me—or us. Not now. Not ever.”

  He set a hand on her head and she leaned against his side. “I wasn’t ready to leave. Or change anything, not yet.”

  She snorted. “Life doesn’t care, huh? Doesn’t matter what we’re ready for. We both know that.”

  “Yeah.” His tone was heavy. “We both know that. Will you come and visit? I have to know you’ll come and see me.”

  She tilted her head up to meet his eyes, which had a sad, defeated gaze. “I’ll come.” She shook her head. “But only after you get settled for a while. I think you’ll need some time to adjust to this all.”

  He nodded and then fell silent. “You want to know the worst of it?”

  “What?”

  “I hate her. I hate that she will own the position of being the mother of my child.” His head shook. “I can’t believe I can say those words, my child.”

  “She’s a mind-fuck, I’ll give her that.” He nodded, and they fell silent, the sadness seeping between them. She held onto his arm, tilted her back against him and they just reflected on the day. Kyomi could never be like that with anyone else. Quiet. Fully there. Present. Supportive. Hurting.

  Hunter was a father, but she didn’t share a child with him. He had a baby-mama and Kyomi wasn’t it.

  Chapter 18

  WITH A HEAVY, SAD, anxiety-filled heart, Hunter entered Reed Ranch. He heard shuffling, crying and her voice. Francine’s damn voice in his… fuck! It wasn’t technically Hunter’s house, but it had been the closest thing he could call home for a long while now. The conversation with Kyomi was on a loop in his brain. He was relieved she didn’t outright break up with him, or hate him, or rant at him. All were valid and perfectly justifiable responses to the baggage of his life, which he brought into hers.

  No, Kyomi was kind, understanding, funny and sarcastic. She was facing it with truth and fairness, as always, and doing exactly what he should have expected of her. He believed now that she was really way too good for him. For anyone.

  How could he ever say he loved the woman he saw before him now? Francine wasn’t doing anything wrong or alarming. She was just sitting in a chair, her hair pulled back over her shoulder, trying to soothe the baby. Her baby. His baby. That thought combined with the baby’s incessant crying instantly weighed heavily on his head. Throbbing cruelty. She was part of his life for the next eighteen years. An endless eighteen years. It already seemed like forever. He’d be nearly fifty years old before he was finally done with this woman. Until today, he assumed he was done with her for good.

  Everything irritated him about her now. Her whiny, high-pitched voice and rude, thoughtless, careless, impractical things that she said. So many half-truths. And always in that whiny tone. So damn annoying. He hated seeing her overly done face and long, shiny straight hair. He hated her clothes that were obviously bought before her wealthy budget was axed.

  “Is my mom here?”

  “No. Russell Wilson fell asleep so she said she’d check back with you later. She left me here, alone.”

  “Well, we interrupted her day with a surprise grandchild. Duh! She has other responsibilities to tend to. Like most adults. Or at least, they should.” His sarcasm was directed, at her, but his rude comment wasn’t helpful. He knew that. However, he couldn’t resist the urge to say it. He flopped down. “How does this work? What does the crying mean? Is he hungry? Is his diaper wet? What should we do first?”

  She flipped her hair so the swaddled baby could rest against her shoulder without having to ingest a mouthful of strands. “You must realize I don’t have the first clue.”

  Shrugging, he indicated a half circle with his hands to encompass the room. “Well, you have a month’s more experience than I have. And at least eight months to plan for it. Right? I was thrown into fatherhood today. Now.”

  “Well, you don’t have to sound so put out.”

  He shut his eyes tightly, grinding his teeth to silence the nasty words he wanted to spew at her. “I am put out. You gave me no warning. I learned I am a father today, although when I woke up, I was not one. Imagine my disappointment at that realization. Being a father means I am relegated to seeing you again. My frustration over that is indescribable.”

  Francine sniffed and clutched the baby more tightly. “That was so mean.”

  “No, not really. I was just expressing the truth. I never asked you to cheat. Hell, I never asked you to marry me just so you could cover up your affair.”

  “You could try harder to remember that I’ve been through a lot too.”

  Fuck. This already was going downhill fast. Leaning forward, he stared at the ground, pressing a hand to his temple. He didn’t want any of this. He didn’t want a son. He didn’t want Francine to be his child’s mother. The intense repulsion that inundated him almost made him choke. He wondered if he could admit it to anyone. At all. Ever. Maybe Kyomi. But only her. She was too adept at bucking up. She’d most likely vehemently disagree with his take on it. Venting his anger and frustration on an innocent, little baby that never asked to be born to this mother, or this father, was inappropriate and childish.

  Who could say if Hunter might be any better than Francine as a parent?

  Meanwhile the baby still wailed his dissatisfaction and Hunter still had no idea what to do. Was there anything he could do? What if he cried forever? Hunter would surely lose his sanity and that would be the end of his life.

  “Right. You’re going through a lot. So, how can I help you with that?”

  She nodded, glad to be appeased. Her smile was the first sign. The start of Hunter’s sucking it all up. For the sake of peace and quiet. But mostly for the sake of this baby.

  “Well, he mostly cries to eat. He sounds more cranky when he needs to sleep, I think. But it’s really hard to get him to go to sleep. Oh, and the diapers. Endless changes all day long. Maybe you could take the dirty ones. I hate changing those.”

  “I doubt anyone enjoys them.” He pulled his phone out and texted his mom. Baby won’t stop crying. Any pointers?

  Bottle. Change diaper. Swaddle tightly. Hold against your shoulder, firmly but gentle and walk or sway him. If all else fails, take a car ride. Need me? I can come over.

  I need you to move in. But no. I have to figure this out.

  It’s a lot for anyone. She gave you no preparation in any way. Cut yourself some slack. And don’t be afraid to ask for the help you need. Or be too proud to take it either. I’ll be over first thing tomorrow.

  THANK YOU.

  He sent some prayer emojis and she responded with a laughing face.

  Rising up, he gently took the crying infant in his arms. He walked over to the bag of diapers and sli
pped one out. He had to be all in. There was no one else. Gently placing the baby down on the cushion, he opened the blanket, and released the diaper tabs. Grabbing the baby wipes, he pulled out several and started to mop up the unappealing contents. Pretty self-explanatory so far. It smelled so foul and looked even worse. After Russell was nice and clean, Hunter wrapped up the used diaper and the wipes into a tight bundle. He opened the clean diaper and slid it under the soft, little bottom. He attached the tabs snugly, but not too tightly. Running his finger along the edges, he wanted to make sure it couldn’t chafe the tender skin. He smiled, noting how silky soft Russell’s skin was.

  He then rewrapped the baby as he was before. Remembering how to roll a burrito, he mastered it on the first try. Scooping up the baby, he cocked his head toward Francine. “Are you breast feeding him?”

  Lord all the things he didn’t know.

  The entire time she kept silent. Now she was frowning at him as she absently indicated no. He rose to his feet and carried the baby into the kitchen, finding the clean set of bottles his mother—God bless her—had left there. He held Russell. Russell Wilson. So strange the baby had a famous name. It didn’t fit him. Not at all. Not what Hunter would have picked. It wasn’t a bad name; it just didn’t seem like Hunter’s son’s name.

  His son.

  Would it ever click and be real? Or start to make sense? he wondered.

  Hunter managed to hold Russell like a football under one arm as he scooped the formula into the empty bottle and followed the directions. He carefully measured the lukewarm water. Then he slowly lifted the nipple to the baby’s lips and sat down. After a moment, Hunter watched Russell start feeding. There. One, out of what? A dozen more to go on this routine?

  His heart shrunk. This would be hard to fake any interest in.

  “How did you know what to do? I never did any of that.”

  He glanced up as Francine appeared in the entry of the kitchen, leaning against the wall and watching him. “My mom said change, swaddle, and feed him, then walk him. I’ll do that after he finishes the feeding. Gotta burp him halfway through the bottle.”

  “Yes. But how did you learn to do it all and handle him? You did that so fast and efficiently and… and so right. I try, but my swaddling falls off him all the time. Changing the diaper on any kind of furniture? Forget it. The crap gets everywhere. I also get peed on a lot when I’m trying to change him. No way could I prepare a fresh bottle when he’s in my arms. I always have to set him down and then he cries even harder. How did you manage to do it all? The first time? Did you do that for your cousins or something?”

  Hunter didn’t know the answer to that. He had zero to say. He just knew what to do. “No one taught me. This was my first time. I don’t remember Landon as a baby so I doubt I learned anything from him. And no cousins I needed to care for. I just did it. Are you criticizing me or glad?”

  She bit her lip. “I don’t know. Maybe a little miffed… How do you know how to handle a baby after being with him just half a day? You’re much more efficient than I am after a whole month. Am I…” She shook her head.

  “What?” Time to burp. He set the burp cloth that was lying on the table on his shoulder as he witnessed his mom doing earlier. He tapped gently until a monstrous (for his size!) noise escaped Russell’s mouth, along with a curdle of wet goo that landed on the cloth. Hunter positioned the boy back down and gave him the second half of the bottle.

  “Am I like, an unnatural mother?”

  “You think I’m a natural?” He looked at her incredulously. “My job is a managerial executive. Not a childcare worker. Just mimicking what I saw others do.”

  Her head shook. “I try. I really try my best and it always goes terrible. I’m clunky and clumsy and he cries harder the more I try to please him. I had no idea it would be so difficult to be a mother.” She walked over and sat dejectedly in the chair before him and Russell.

  It wasn’t that difficult. Just labor intensive. And tedious. Monotonous. Replaying the endless routines over and over and over… Even the thought of it nauseated him. But difficult? Not particularly in his opinion.

  “What did you think it would be?” he inquired, growing curious.

  “Fun. You know, dressing him up in the little outfits. They are so adorable and putting the baby in a pretty pram like the Royals have, and walking him downtown for lunch. But I don’t even know how I could do that. He poops and pees and spits up all the time. How could I eat if he’s doing that? Let alone, keep his outfits clean?”

  Biting his lip, Hunter shut his eyes. He felt defeated. And disgusted… with himself. She was really that shallow. That’s the reason she decided to have a baby?! She even said the embarrassing shit out loud and tried to defend it. If Hunter chose to take the baby out, he didn’t think it would be impossible. Francine equated infant care to rocket science. Being organized and following the routine seemed to be the secret. Again, a lot of little things had to constantly be tended to. No doubt, the chronic lack of sleep would decrease their efficiency. But it was doable.

  “It’s not fun for me.”

  “No. This is not intended to be fun,” Hunter replied quietly as he burped the baby again. Then he placed Russell on his shoulder, gently holding him and walking slowly to soothe him to sleep. Sharing an infant with the woman who cheated on him, used him, shattered his belief in love, and then dumped a baby on him when there was no one else to scam was not much fun. It threatened to affect his new relationship with a woman he could love more than everything and everyone. It dragged him back to a job in the city that he wasn’t sure he wanted anymore. Especially with her estranged family. But here he was. It wasn’t fun. It was reality and she had best get there soon if he had to.

  God, please sleep. The baby uttered a few squawks before his eyelids finally fell heavily and he was fast asleep. Hunter laid him in the couch, inside a circle of pillows he propped around him. “Keep that stuff away from his head. They were adamant about that because of SIDS. Keep him on his back and don’t get anything near him. Nothing soft especially,” Francine warned.

  Hunter moved back some of the blankets. “Okay. Who are they?” Good. At least she listened to some advice and took it seriously.

  “The doctors and nurses before they discharged me. They taught me how to diaper him and feed him and start a sleep routine. I just can’t seem to coordinate it all together yet.”

  Great. Coming from an unnatural mother. No surprise. But it left more responsibility on him. Work to feed them all and pay off the mortgage she incurred. Raise a baby. Sure. What could be more wonderful?

  He rose to leave. “You can make up a bed on the other couch. I’m going to grab some sleep while I can. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

  Walking out, Hunter knew she was flustered when she screeched after him. But he simply shut the door on her noise, praying she wouldn’t wake Russell, and if she did, he was her problem.

  At least until two a.m.

  “Why is Francine sitting in my living room with a baby?”

  Waking up groggy and confused at the unexpected phone call, Hunter glanced over at the clock. A mere six a.m. Maybe two hours of sleep max. Total. In snippets.

  Frick. Asher? Duh. He should have texted him over the latest developments. He and Daisy took a vacation together. In the heat of their new relationship status and to celebrate their happy reunion, they spent a whole week at a resort in Florida. But they were back now, and obviously walked in on Francine, whom they found sound asleep on the couch.

  “Yeah, turns out I have a son,” Hunter said, rubbing a hand through his hair. He coughed to clear the phlegm from his throat. Rising up, he started searching for clothes. “Why? Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. They’re still asleep. Didn’t even budge when we walked in. But imagine my surprise to see your lying, cheating ex asleep on my couch. A little heads up would have been nice, Hunter. Dude. Come on. You carry the torch a little far with the, I didn’t talk to Kyomi enough so now you no lo
nger talk to me? She’s good with me. Why aren’t you?”

  “No. I’m fine with you, both of you. I just like to give you crap. And what you’ve been going through with your mom pretty much allowed you the right to possess full asshole status with no judgment. But Kyomi still likes you. Francine literally showed up yesterday. This is only day two. She claims the baby is my son. Stanley left her when he realized it wasn’t his kid, then he came back, then he left again. She’s cut off financially and therefore—”

  “Fully your responsibility again, as usual. She’s lying. Man, she’s got to be lying.”

  “She’s not. Swear to God. The kid looks exactly like me. Mom saw him and she agreed. No. Apparently, I get to co-parent with Francine. I thought her cheating was the lowest point for me. But this is on the next level.”

  “Fuck. Man. I’m sorry. Can we do anything?”

  “Convince Kyomi not to leave me.”

  “She won’t,” Asher said with an annoying sureness that irritated Hunter. He hated, detested really, knowing that Asher knew her first and therefore, knew her longer. He knew her intimately too, something he could say with no doubts. Asher always fully predicted Kyomi’s reaction to any possible situation.

  “Yeah, yeah. You’re right, of course. She’s sticking around. For now. But I don’t know why. Why would she take on this mess of my life?”

  “Well… what would you do if I’d gotten her pregnant and you had to deal with my love child?”

  He rubbed his tired eyes. “That’s a seriously screwed up scenario to imagine. I prefer not to. Must you keep rubbing in your past with her? Where’s Daisy? Doesn’t she care?”

  “She’s right beside me. Rolling her eyes at me because she knows you’re only bothered by Kyomi’s and my history. Just you. Insecure, little boy that you are. But anyway, what if she were having my baby? You’d just cut and run? Be angry? What?”

  Hunter never considered that angle. “I’d hate it. Resent it. And be irrationally angrier than she is. She’s far better than me. More mature. Kind. Loyal.”