Uncertain Loyalties (Dancing Moon Ranch Book 4)

by Patricia Watters

  Sophie moved around behind the mare and crouched in the straw beside Rick, then picked up the string and said, "Tell me when."

  With his shoulder pressed into the straw, Rick said, "Okay, pull when I say pull, then let up. The idea is to pull during contractions. As soon as the leg comes around I'll grip the front feet and ease the shoulders through the mare's pelvis as she contracts. So start pulling." After a few moments Rick said. "Okay let up. We made some headway." Another few moments, Rick said, "She's contracting. Pull again."

  As Sophie pulled, Rick announced, "The nose and both front fetlocks are out about six inches. With each contraction she'll shove the foal out. It's coming, it's coming." As the mare gave one more push, the foal came through.

  Rick quickly removed the birth sac from around the foal, and with a cloth dampened in antiseptic, cleaned the foal's face, then removed the mucus and blood from his eyes and nose and mouth. "Hand me more cloths," he said to Sophie.

  Sophie fetched a fistful of clean rags and handed them to Rick. "So is it a girl or a boy?"

  Rick lifted one of the foal's slender back legs and announced, "It's a colt. Uncle Jack's going to be happy about this one. He's a real nice little guy."

  After tending to the umbilical cord and washing the mare's udder in preparation for the foal to nurse, Rick brought the mare over to where the colt lay with his feet tucked under him, and the mare started licking him. "Come on," he said to Sophie, "we'll leave her to her foal so she can bond. The foal should latch on and start nursing in a half hour or so."

  Sophie watched the mare nuzzling her foal, and said, "Already she loves her baby. I used to wonder with each of Aunt Grace's pregnancies how she could be so contented, with her stomach sticking out a foot in front of her, and now I know. She had a sweet little being tucked in a nice safe package inside of her, and she could feel kicks and squirms. And now, with Becca and her baby here, I see the same strong bond between them, especially when she's nursing the baby. I don't know why some women won't nurse. They're missing out on the most important means of early bonding. When I have kids, I plan to nurse them at least six months."

  "Would you ever consider adopting?" Rick asked.

  Sophie shrugged. "I never thought of it. I suppose I wouldn't mind adopting one or maybe two, since I want at least six kids, and six pregnancies could get a little tedious, but I definitely want the experience of having a child growing inside me and all the changes that take place during the process, including feeling him kick and squirm, and afterward, breastfeeding. You can't experience that when adopting."

  Rick said nothing, because at this point there was nothing more to say. But it was time to have a very serious talk with his father. He'd already put it off far too long.

  CHAPTER 12

  Theirs was no longer a platonic relationship, and the more Rick was with Sophie, the more it appeared to him that she actually was in love with him, unbelievable as it seemed after a lifetime of fantasizing exactly that. But things between them couldn't go any further until he got the answer to a question that had been haunting him ever since Sophie said she loved him, up at the cabin. Although he hadn't told his father they'd consummated their relationship, he did tell him that things with Sophie were heating up and marriage could be in their future.

  "Well, it's what you've been wanting for years," Sam said, while setting out flyers on the bar in the tasting room of the winery, "so you should be a very happy man."

  "Sophie wants lots of kids," Rick said.

  "I'm not surprised," Sam replied. "She's been coming here since she was five, and she's always liked being around the kids."

  "She doesn't want to adopt," Rick said. Sam stopped what he was doing and looked over at Rick. "You do know what I'm getting at, don't you?" Rick asked.

  Sam returned to setting down flyers. "Why doesn't Sophie want to adopt?"

  "Why are you avoiding answering my question?"

  Sam set the flyers aside, and said, "I just want to make sure we're on the same wavelength."

  "We are," Rick said. "Sophie wants kids and she doesn't want to adopt, and I could be sterile from chemo, and I need to know what my status is."

  "I don't know," Sam said, "but there's a home test kit that can determine fertility in a man. The results aren't considered reliable, but they can give you an idea. I never said anything to you because I assumed you were like most men, including me, in that you'd rather bury your head in the sand than see a doctor to determine fertility. It's an issue men can get sensitive about, even though they can function as a man. I know. I've been there."

  "But Mom never wanted kids," Rick said, "so why did being sterile bother you?"

  Sam shrugged. "For some reason, if you're infertile you feel like you're less of a man. It’s illogical, but it happens. I had no intention of being checked, but when I read about how a cord blood transplant might work to cure you of your blood problem, the only way that would work would be if I could father another child who might be a match for a cord blood transplant, so I went to a urologist. And yeah, it was pretty devastating to learn, mainly because it had been my hope for you. But then I read about successes with savior babies when a close family member donates sperm through artificial insemination, and Jack was willing. Being identical twins lessened the odds and increased the chance for success."

  "You said that learning you're sterile makes you feel like less of a man," Rick said. "Does it affect things when, well, during sex."

  "No," Sam replied. "It's a psychological thing. But if you ever have problems that way it could be low testosterone from the chemo, and that can be treated with hormones. A simple blood test can determine it." He looked across the bar top at Rick and waited.

  "I don't have a problem," Rick assured him. "So, if I see a urologist, what does it entail?"

  "Not much," Sam replied. "You provide a sample of semen. But the doctor will also want your medical history, which I have on file."

  Rick eyed him with misgiving. "Last week I asked for the name of the hospital where I had the transplant and you brushed me off, claiming it was a stressful time in your life. Well, it's a pretty damn stressful time in my life right now. Why didn't you tell me you had my records?"

  "I didn't want you to jump to conclusions," Sam replied.

  "Conclusions like what? That I'm already sterile."

  "Not necessarily."

  "That's pretty evasive. So am I or am I not?"

  Sam drew in a weary breath. "It's inconclusive. Chemotherapy conditioning for transplantation puts you at the highest risk, but that was over twenty years ago. Since then, there have been advances in restoring fertility after chemotherapy."

  Looking at his father with impatience, Rick said, "How long did you intend to keep this from me? After I'd been married ten years and my wife and I couldn't figure out why she couldn't get pregnant? Is there no end to the secrets in this family?"

  "I'm sorry, Rick. Maybe I should have said something."

  "Yes, Dad, you sure as hell should have said something. So now, I suppose I should go up to Sophie and say, oh, by the way, I'm only half a man. I can't reproduce. And all those kids you want, well, maybe we can raise dogs instead."

  "If Sophie loves you this won't change things," Sam said. "Couples adopt all the time."

  "Yeah, well, Sophie's pretty clear about what she wants and she wants her own kids, so I'm not going to strap her down with a man who can't give them to her."

  "Before you say anything to Sophie," Sam warned, "you need to see a urologist and find out what the status is."

  "I think you already prepared me for that," Rick said. "I did have a cord blood transplant, and they did pump me full of chemo, and you just told me chemo conditioning for transplants is the highest risk, so it's pretty certain where I stand."

  "You need to discuss this with Sophie," Sam said. "She's a reasonable woman. I'm sure she'll adjust to whatever result the test shows."

  "And exactly how am I supposed to broach this with her," Rick ask
ed, "considering the fact that until a week ago she and I were buddies and even after we'd..."

  Shit! He didn't want to get into this with his dad.

  "Rick, you can be up front with me," Sam said. "I assume you and Sophie consummated a relationship that's been building for years. Did the two of you talk about marriage then?"

  "Sophie said she loved me. I said nothing. That was the extent of it."

  "If she loves you, she'll stay by you no matter what," Sam said.

  "No, Dad. She'll stay strapped to me no matter what, and every time Becca or Emily or any of the other wives get pregnant, and Sophie hears all the fuss from everyone around here when they feel babies kick or the women come home with ultrasounds, Sophie will feel the loss. I don't want to burden her with that."

  Deciding this conversation was over, Rick left the winery and prepared for what he'd be facing next. An appointment with a doctor. A battery of tests. And the truth.

  ***

  Sophie couldn't mistake the barrier that had come between her and Rick. It was subtle, but it was there, although frequently she'd catch him looking at her in a way that told her he wanted her, and she was the only woman he wanted. But whenever she'd been with him during the past few days, it was as if they were nothing more than casual acquaintances, because Rick never touched her or gave any sign of wanting her, only that intense look. Initially she'd assumed it was because he was uncomfortable showing any display of affection around the family because it was so new, but the few times she managed to catch him alone, the barrier was still there.

  But now, she was determined to get some answers. She knew Rick was at the house, and even though Becca was there too, Becca would be leaving shortly to go to town with Maureen. Sam would also be tied up at the winery for the next couple of hours, so she'd drop in to see Becca and the baby and be there to talk to Rick after Becca left. She also wondered how much Becca might know about them. Rick and Becca were close, but Sophie knew he wouldn't share anything personal with Becca, other than to tell her that their relationship had changed.

  She opened the door slightly, poked her head inside and saw the baby propped up in an infant seat, and Becca was standing at the kitchen counter.

  "Come on in," Becca said. "I'm fixing a bottle of juice for Lindsey. You can give it to her."

  Sophie stepped inside and closed the door. Glancing to where the baby sat staring at her with big, alert eyes, Sophie walked over and lifted her out of the infant seat and sat with her on the couch. Lindsey reached out a baby hand and Sophie tucked her finger in the little palm, which closed around it. "You have a tight grip," she said, while wiggling her finger. She looked around and saw no sign of Rick, but she heard the shower running in the bath and assumed he was there.

  Becca glanced over at them, and said, "Lindsey's changing so fast, I wish Chase were here to see her. I feel as if he's been gone forever."

  "How much longer does he have over there?" Sophie asked.

  "Four more months before he's stateside again," Becca replied.

  "What is his plan when he finally gets out?"

  "To go to college. He loves it here and he's very interested in what Dad is doing with the winery, so he plans to become a vintner too. Dad and Mom have a plot of land set aside for us, like Uncle Jack and Aunt Grace do for their boys, so we'll build a house here and go into the family business. We haven't told Mom and Dad yet because we want to surprise them."

  Sophie smiled. "You will, and it will be the highlight of their lives, having you and Chase and Lindsey here. I know your dad's wondered who would take over the winery when he's ready to retire, with Rick being a vet."

  Becca handed Sophie the small baby bottle. "Well, he can soon stop wondering."

  Sophie offered Lindsey the bottle, and Lindsey latched onto the nipple. While the baby sucked, the bathroom door opened and Rick emerged in the hallway, wearing jeans and a western-cut shirt that hung loose and was open down the front. His hair was still damp and mussed from drying it with a towel. "Hey, Soph," he said, in the tone he'd always used to greet her. But the look in his eyes wasn't one of a casual greeting. He was clearly troubled.

  "How's the foal doing?" she asked, while wishing she could smooth the frown off his brow and kiss him and ask him what was wrong.

  "He's fine," Rick replied. "Uncle Jack plans to work with him as a potential barrel horse for Maddy later." He walked into the kitchen and poured a mug of coffee then stood at the counter observing, but saying nothing more.

  Sophie focused on the baby again, while trying to dismiss the image of Rick's chest and lean torso and the almost overwhelming need to be alone with him and act on her urges. Cuddling the baby close, she said to Becca, who was sitting on the couch beside her, "Watching you with Lindsey, I think I'm getting broody."

  Becca laughed. "I know what you mean. I started feeling that way when Chase and I were exchanging wedding vows. I'm still broody because I want Lindsey to have a little sister or brother, and it's still four months away before we can even get started."

  "I know it's silly since I'm not married," Sophie said, "but what's it like being pregnant?"

  "Nice," Becca replied. "The first time you feel something moving you're not sure, maybe it's some kind of gastric bubble, to say it politely, but the next time it happens it comes to you that the mound in your stomach is a little human being who'll be with you for the rest of your life. It's a pretty sobering thought, but a good one." Becca reached over and trailed the pad of her finger across Lindsey's cheek. The baby stopped sucking on the bottle and stared at her mother, then she blinked several times and went back to sucking, but her eyes remained on her mother.

  "I want at least six," Sophie said. "It's a lot of pregnancies to go through, but I'm curious about all that kicking and wiggling inside. I guess I'm a natural-born mother." Although she hadn't intended to, she looked at Rick, whose face was grim. Before she could ask what was wrong, he set his mug down and left the house.

  Becca looked at the closed front door, and said, "Something's really bothering him. I asked him this morning what was wrong and he made a cynical remark that he'd like to switch places with Chase because it would be a whole lot less stressful in Afghanistan, then left the house."

  Sophie looked down at the baby, while trying to decide whether to talk to Becca about what was going on. But while she was deliberating, Becca, said, "Things are different with you and Rick this time. Do you want to talk about it?"

  Sophie wondered if Rick had talked to Becca, or if Becca had picked up on her thoughts of moments before. Or maybe she was questioning Rick's hasty exit. But she did want Becca's input. "Yes, things have changed this time," she said. "After the incident at the party, when I realized Rick didn't care about me the way he always had, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I guess I'd taken him for granted over the years and always assumed he'd be here and nothing would change. It's changed." She gave a despondent little grunt.

  "I don't think Rick's feelings for you have changed," Becca said, "but his outlook on life has. Right now something's really eating at him but he's not talking."

  "Did he start acting this way maybe a... week ago?" Sophie asked.

  Becca looked askance at Sophie. "What happened a week ago?"

  That was not the answer Sophie expected, and Becca picked up on that and said, "Did you and Rick, umm, make things final?"

  Sophie drew in a long breath. It was pointless to try to skirt the issue, so she nodded and replied, "I told Rick I loved him and he said nothing."

  "Well, that wasn't when he started acting the way he is. It was more like after he'd been at the cabin after his mother died. Did something happen there with the two of you? I really don't think his mother has anything to do with what's eating at him. He seems to have put that behind."

  Sophie tried to think of what went on at the cabin. "I don't know," she said. "It was a blur, with me feeling like I should never have barged in on him, and him looking at me like I was an intrusion, and my pushing him to t
alk about something he needed to mull over for a while."

  "Well, the one thing we all know about Rick," Becca said, "if he doesn't want to talk he won't, and no amount of coaxing will get it out of him. I suggest you give him some time."

  "That's what my mother said. Well, actually, my mother said for me to be his friend, which I intended when I went to the stable to talk to him. What happened was not part of the plan."

  "It never is," Becca said.

  From outside came the sound of heated voices. Becca went to the front window and looked across the driveway. "I can't imagine what's going on out there," she said. "Aunt Grace and Uncle Jack and half the family's on the front porch, and Aunt Grace is wringing her hands, and Maddy's hanging onto her arm and crying, and Uncle Jack looks furious, and Marc's there with his fists in balls, and it's obvious they're having a heated argument."

  Sophie set the baby in the infant seat and went to the window and watched as Adam walked up and looked as if appealing to Marc, who eyed Adam with contempt.

  Opening the front door, Sophie stepped onto the porch where she could hear what was going on. She also saw Sam and Rick coming from the direction of the winery and assumed Rick had gone after his father. As the men approached, Grace said to Marc, "Where will you go?"

  "Away from here," Marc replied, in a firm voice.

  "Why? There's no reason," Jack said. "Just because you're not a Hansen by blood doesn't mean you're not one of us."

  "I'm not a Hansen by blood or anything else," Marc said. "It's like this place is the center of the world and everyone here has blinders on about what lays outside the Dancing Moon Ranch. All you and Adam and the rest of this bunch care about is breaking horses and riding bulls and throwing ropes around posts."

  "Honey, please don't go off like this," Grace pleaded. "I know it was wrong for us to keep things from you like we did, but it was for your own good. Please, Marc, think things through."