by Leigh Riker
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
BECCA LEFT DOC BAXTER’S OFFICE, ignoring the receptionist, his wife, on her way out. Her father was waiting for her in his truck around the corner from Cottonwood Street on Main where he’d parked, but Becca’s footsteps slowed. She’d rather have done this on her own.
They hadn’t exchanged many words since he’d learned she was pregnant, yet he’d insisted on coming with her today. Becca hadn’t known how to say no.
Halfway to the pickup, she heard someone call her name. Jenna Smith had seen her and hurried along the street from the café. She crossed over in front of Olivia’s shop.
“Becca, I’ve been meaning to call you.” Her gaze lingered on Becca’s stomach before sliding away to focus on the sidewalk. “Since we talked a couple of days ago, I’ve been thinking of you a lot.” She gestured toward the medical office. “Everything okay?”
“Perfect,” she said. “I’ve been thinking too about the right thing for my baby, but I know your husband isn’t wild about another child.”
“Hadley and I have been...negotiating. I mean, discussing. He knows what this would mean to me, for our family. He’s said yes.” Jenna forced a smile. “Do you know what you’re having?”
“A boy,” Becca announced, unable to keep the smile from her face. “You’re the first person I’ve told. He’s due in December.” Two months before Elizabeth’s baby. It amazed her that her new friend had confided in her. Becca might even call her a mentor, and she relied now on Elizabeth’s experience, her common sense as a guide. Still, Elizabeth had said Becca should make her own decision to keep her baby or—
Jenna’s gaze lifted. “Tell me everything, please. How big is he, what does he weigh? Has Doc done an ultrasound yet?”
“Today,” Becca said and pulled the sonogram from her backpack. For a long moment she studied it, wondering if she should draw Jenna into her private world, before handing it over. Instead of sharing this special moment with Calvin, she watched Jenna’s eyes widen in wonder. “See, that’s his hand and, over here, this is a leg.” The baby lay folded in a typical fetal position, making it hard to see certain parts.
Jenna’s gaze fixed on the image. “Oh, you can see his face clearly, that little snub nose...” As if reluctant, she gave back the sonogram, one finger trailing over the image of Becca’s little baby inside her. “I don’t mean to push, but it would be the most wonderful thing if Hadley and I could give your child a home.” Her features seemed to blur for Becca. “I promise, you could see him whenever you like. You’d be invited to his birthday parties, for Christmas, all the special times.” She stopped. “I’m trying to sway you, aren’t I?”
Becca had lain awake every night, but now she didn’t have to think any longer. Jenna and Hadley had a good marriage, and Jenna’s infertility must be an agonizing thing to live with. Becca thought she understood. In providing what was best for her own child, Becca would also be making Jenna’s fondest wish come true.
Becca reached for Jenna’s hand. “I’ve made up my mind,” she said, looking toward her father’s truck. He sent her a curious glance as if to ask what was keeping her. “I’d like very much for you and Hadley to have him.”
“Becca.” Jenna pulled her close for a hug. “I don’t know what to say.”
She choked on her words. “I think you’ll be the best parents he could ever have.”
Now the tears were flowing down Becca’s cheeks. She and Jenna stood in their tight embrace, both weeping, until Becca knew she couldn’t stand here any longer or she’d fall completely apart. Of course, this was the right, the totally right, thing to do. Still, it hurt.
“I can’t wait to tell Hadley,” Jenna said. “He’s such a great father. He will be for this baby too. Thank you, Becca, from the bottom of our hearts.”
When they finally parted, Becca started for her dad’s aging Ford pickup. She swiped at her tears. Her steps faltered before she squared her shoulders and opened the passenger door. Her father’s hound dog eyes seemed to bore into her thoughts, the regrets that wanted to form. “Everything okay?”
“Perfect,” she said, slipping onto the seat beside him.
“What were you talking to Jenna Smith about?”
“Just small talk.” Her voice sounded strident to her ears. “Let’s go home.”
“But you looked sad.” He hadn’t twisted the ignition key. He cupped her chin in his rough hand, forcing Becca to look at his woeful expression, the one she’d come to know all too well from the moment her mother’s diagnosis had been made. “Something’s wrong. And I know I haven’t been a very good father since I first knew about the...baby—”
Through a blur of fresh tears, she patted his hand. “You’re always a good dad.”
“If there’s a problem, we’ll deal with it, Becca.”
Her stomach tightened. He’d managed her mother’s illness with steadfast devotion.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she said, and, to Becca’s relief, he didn’t probe any further. “The baby should come at Christmastime.”
He started the engine, the truck pulled away from the curb, and she took a shaky breath. Calvin didn’t matter now. He could stay wherever he’d gone. It wasn’t as if she’d gotten pregnant on purpose to keep him with her. Other people might see her as childish, but her decision to let the Smiths adopt her baby was the most mature thing she’d ever done. At the same time, her heart seemed to be breaking. For a minute she wanted to jump out of the truck, run down the street and tell Jenna she’d changed her mind.
Instead, she fixed her gaze on the road ahead. Her own future.
A road without Calvin. Or their baby.
* * *
FOR THE NEXT WEEK, Dallas felt as if Lizzie’s words were some ghostly specter, drifting at his side and floating through his head wherever he went. He shouldn’t have said what he had, especially about her standing in town, but for now it seemed wiser to steer clear of her. The day after he’d learned about the baby, he’d decided to enter a small rodeo an hour’s drive from Barren. It would be his first event to test his renewed fitness—he’d been planning this since around the time he first thought about his own rodeo. Now he was ready.
After that, what if he just kept going? You can’t wait to get on the road again, she’d said, which was true. He’d already failed to show up for the interview she’d mentioned, the TV spot. How had he gotten so careless as to make a baby with her? To put Lizzie at the forefront again of more damaging gossip that would threaten any chance to repair the reputation she so valued? He couldn’t stop the thought. The mayor’s ex-wife with a rodeo bum.
They’d both said hurtful things, and Dallas hadn’t tried hard enough to discuss their options. As he carried his gear from his truck toward the outdoor arena in the little town of Serenity, he got a few steely glances from other riders that seemed to say what a jerk he was. “Don’t you belong in Vegas?” one guy called, pitching a cigarette butt into the dirt between them like a gauntlet. “Big shot.”
A second said, “Not much chance, Maguire, for us local boys with you around.”
“I’d say that’s hardly fair,” drawled another.
At the sullen tone of their voices and the hard looks on three faces, Dallas shifted his gear bag from one shoulder to the other, freeing up his stronger left arm, his riding hand. These guys looked eager to beat him to a pulp. Another second, and he might be at the center of an all-out brawl. Wouldn’t be his first fight. Maybe he had that coming to him, one way to work off his guilt about Lizzie.
The three rough cowboys had closed in and were circling him when Dallas heard another, more familiar voice. “Come on, now,” the man said, ambling across the dusty ground. He tipped back his battered Stetson and, to Dallas’s surprise, there stood Calvin Stern. “You never been busted up and had to get on the horse again, Horace? Jake? How about you, Dudley? Just to prove you can?” He half smiled at the gro
up. “Let him be.”
“He took second in the Finals two years ago,” said the first man, practically spitting the words. “There won’t be no competition here. Might as well save my entry fee.”
The second guy motioned toward Dallas’s truck. “I were you, I’d get in that fancy rig then floor it before we teach you a lesson about trying to grab another man’s territory.”
“Y’all need some manners,” Calvin said, again in that same, unconcerned tone.
Dallas tensed. He hadn’t asked for Calvin’s protection, but the muscles had bunched in the other men’s arms, their stances widened to intimidate. Two against three now. One guy’s fist was already raised, and as he charged, Dallas sidestepped the blow.
“No need for this,” he told them, but each of them threw a punch, one landing on Calvin’s shoulder. He winced but returned the insult with a swift uppercut to a jaw. One man shoved Dallas, another Calvin. The fight truly would have been on then, but Dallas put out an arm to block the next attack, then backed away, his hands in the air.
“We go on like this, boys, none of us will be able to ride. You three won’t look nearly as appealing to all those pretty girls at the Saturday night dance.”
The first guy feinted another assault but stopped without moving forward. A slow grin spread across his face. “Point taken. I’d rather ride than spend the rest of the weekend putting liniment on my aches and pains. Tell you what. We’ll all ride and kick your—”
“You can try.” A narrow escape. Hoping he’d read them right, Dallas turned his back to face Calvin. “Let’s set up. Then I’ll buy you lunch. You and I have some talking to do.”
In Serenity, there weren’t many restaurant choices. Dallas and Calvin took their fast-food burgers and fries to his truck. After the first few bites, he eyed Calvin before he launched his own attack.
“This where you’ve been since you left Becca Carter?”
“No, I just drove around the state, here and there, tried my hand at a rodeo in Burnside. Placed fourth,” he said with the tilt of one eyebrow. “You were right. Kind of gets in your blood.”
Dallas didn’t smile. “I thought it might. But why’d you leave Hadley like that too? He’s working double time now.” Dallas had made that worse the week he’d been gone to see his mother. He was doing it again now. He blew out a breath. “I’m disappointed in you, Calvin.” In myself too. And he sounded like his brother.
“I didn’t mean to make things harder for Hadley. Becca either,” Calvin added, “but, man, I panicked. Me, with a kid on the way? And her talking marriage again? I never thought she was serious. Then she lays the baby on me, and all of a sudden I was coming out of my skin.” He dug another fry from the bag. “The open road looked mighty good.”
“How do you think Becca feels?”
Calvin didn’t answer, but Dallas knew that Becca, like Lizzie, had a reputation to uphold.
Dallas too had left Lizzie to fend off any town gossip, the thing she dreaded most. What to do? If he stayed in Barren with her, worked for Hadley or bought land of his own, he’d be giving up the championship, his endorsements. None of his sponsors would want a washed-up cowboy then. He’d have Lizzie, though, and had it been that hard to take care of her three kids for a few days? Seth was sweet. Jordan seemed eager to learn everything he could about Dallas’s lifestyle, to see him as a role model. Stella...well, not as easy there. She might never accept him.
But as they grew, they’d all need more guidance along with Lizzie’s love. On the other hand, if he went back to the circuit, he could better manage his parents’ growing needs without the distraction of a ready-made family, but he might lose any chance he had left with Lizzie. And the thought of raising this child they’d made, together... He needed this time away to make some decisions.
The situation had tied him in knots more tangled than the thought of Ace signing another rider to replace him. He handed Calvin the large bag of fries. Dallas seemed to have lost his appetite. He slipped his half-eaten burger into the other sack. “What are you going to do after this rodeo?” Dallas could have been talking to himself. “You made a bad choice before, Calvin.”
“Yeah, I did,” he said, then shrugged. “Guess I’m going back to Barren. Face the music. See what Becca really wants to do—if she’ll talk to me.”
Dallas could understand that. “Only way to find out.”
* * *
A FEW DAYS LATER, Elizabeth was watching Seth play on the backyard swing set while, on her knees, she weeded what she laughingly called her “garden”—most of the plants were dying off this late in the summer—when her next-door neighbor stepped onto his back porch. Her heart skipped a couple of beats. A minute later Dallas had crossed the grass between their houses and was helping her to her feet. His hand felt warm, strong, but Elizabeth pulled free. “Where have you been this time?” She’d asked the question idly, she hoped, not because she’d missed him. She’d been stuck with his duties as well for the rodeo, that was all. A glimpse of what life would be like if she and Dallas were really together.
He gazed around the yard. “In Serenity. Not much more than a wide spot in the road, but they put on a decent rodeo. Had to try out my rusty moves, but I wasn’t exactly welcome there, especially after I finished first riding bulls. Thought about getting dumped on purpose but couldn’t throw the event—or the chance to prove myself. I donated my winnings to their local senior citizens’ group. My parents won’t suffer the loss of those few bucks I won there, and I’ll make that up to them.” He frowned. “I, uh, came over to see if there’s anything we need for our rodeo.”
Elizabeth felt herself weakening. He looked wonderful, his face tanned and streaks of sun in his darker hair. Yes, they’d had words before he left, but there was no sense in giving him the cold shoulder now. They were adults. She’d had her time to feel furious, hurt, and soon his rodeo would be over. Then this sad tension between them would end. Dallas would leave. “I rescheduled your TV appearance—in the hope you’d be here for it. The Barren Journal will publish a write-up about you next week. You need to call them.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I didn’t mean to leave you holding the bag.”
Elizabeth said nothing, and they ran out of words that weren’t charged by the issues between them, specifically the baby. She and Dallas hadn’t been this uneasy with each other since May.
Fortunately, Seth filled the awkward silence. He’d been digging a hole under the swings but looked up, spotted Dallas—and tore across the yard. “Hi! Where did you go? My mom says our grass is getting too long. Did you bring me a present?”
“Seth!” Elizabeth said, blushing.
“You did say that, Mama.”
“Your grass is pretty high,” Dallas agreed with Seth. “I’ll get right on that. And yeah, maybe I did bring you a present.” He didn’t seem to mind her little boy wrapping his arms around Dallas’s legs. He would make a good dad—if he’d wanted to be one. Caring for her children while she felt ill hadn’t fazed him; but she assumed spending the rest of his life helping to raise them and the new baby wasn’t on his schedule.
I didn’t ask you to make a lifetime commitment, Dallas had once said.
“Can we read another book?” Seth asked.
“Sure.”
“I’ll be right back!” He ran toward the house.
“I didn’t mean this second,” Dallas murmured, a smile tugging at his mouth. He cupped the nape of his neck, not quite looking at Elizabeth. “He misses his dad, doesn’t he?”
“He misses his fantasy of what Harry—a father—should be.” She winced. “That sounded bitter, sorry. Not your problem. You were saying about the rodeo...?”
He rephrased his earlier question. “Anything else left I need to do for you?”
No, except stand by me when this scandal breaks, be here for this baby, and doesn’t that sound needy... Talk about an im
possible dream, which probably wasn’t in either of their best interests or, equally important, in her children’s. The last thing they needed was another broken relationship if Dallas couldn’t resist the call of the rodeo circuit—a second loss would throw them into fresh turmoil.
“I think you’re all set,” Elizabeth said at last. “Clara’s been wonderful, taking charge of things I wasn’t familiar with, and her enthusiasm is catching.”
“That’s Clara.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Lizzie.”
He didn’t correct himself. She didn’t mind the name as much as she once had, but she replied, “I’m not that person, Dallas. I’m still me, Elizabeth Barnes, uptight, proper and making another fool of myself, really.”
“You haven’t. You didn’t. You aren’t.” He broached the topic that had kept this conversation awkward. “I don’t blame you for getting mad. I’m sorry if you thought I ran out on you.” He nodded at her stomach. “You feeling any better now?”
“Some,” she said.
“Have you told your mother yet?”
She laid a hand on her stomach. “No. I should, I know, but...”
“I’ll go with you if that would help.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught. Had he just offered his support? “She’s not your biggest fan.”
“Neither are you lately,” he pointed out. “That doesn’t mean we can’t handle this.”
What was he saying? As if they were talking about bull riding, not her pregnancy, she imagined his strong hand on the rope, his muscles straining for control of the huge animal. In spite of the angry words they’d exchanged, the hurt he must have felt, the resentment she’d nursed when he abruptly left town again, he was a decent man. He’d come back, hadn’t he? Her anger was hard to maintain, especially when he said, “You’re not on your own here, Lizzie.”
