by Jane Porter
Billy appeared then, cell phone in hand. “Did you call me?”
“No, I was thanking the driver.” She nodded to the boxes. “Looks like it’s Christmas.”
“Oh good. Beck’s things,” he said, before lifting the phone back to his ear and saying to whomever was on the other line that he needed to go.
Once the phone was back in the front pocket of Billy’s sweatpants, Erika asked him what he’d been buying. A complete nursery?
“Pretty much,” Billy said. “This is his home. He should have his own room here, with toys and all the usual baby things.”
“When did you order this?”
“Yesterday.”
“And it’s here today?”
“Anything can be rushed.”
“That would cost a fortune.”
He didn’t seem concerned. “I have money. Why not spend it on my son?”
“True,” she agreed.
“Besides, the furniture, there should be a swing for him. A standing saucer. And hopefully a bar with dangle toys so he can lie beneath them and reach for things.”
How did he know about all these things? When had he done the research? “What didn’t you buy?”
“There were a few things I left in the shopping cart. No need to overwhelm the little guy yet.”
Her lips twitched. “You’re becoming quite the expert.”
“I can’t just watch TV all day.”
“No, you can’t. Pretty soon you’ll be schooling me.”
“I do some have thoughts, actually, but this might not be the time.” He closed the front door, blocking the view of the huge boxes. “We can talk about it later tonight—”
“Talk about what?”
“I just wondered if it was time to start him on some solid foods. He’s only five months, but he can hold his head up just fine, and he wants to eat. When I take a bite, he leans forward and opens his mouth.”
“I’d read somewhere that six months is better.”
“Either way, we’ll start with cereal, and then in a month or two introduce fruits, vegetables, yogurt. Cereal will fill him up better than just milk. He’ll probably take better naps, too, with a full belly.”
Erika’s head was spinning. These were all things she’d wanted to bring up to Billy, expecting she’d have to do a fair amount of educating him, but instead, he’d brought her up to speed, and he’d executed the plan. “I can look for infant cereal when I go shopping this weekend.”
“I can drive you to Bryce. We’ll all go.”
“You think it’s a good idea to drive?”
“I’m right-handed. My truck is an automatic.”
“I don’t want you to hurt.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“So, what do we do with all those boxes out there? From the looks of it, almost everything will need to be put together.”
“I’ll handle that. Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Are you going to do all of that with just one hand, too?”
“No. But I know someone who can get it done for us without too much effort.”
Not even fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the front door. Erika answered, opening the door to discover a young cowboy on the front porch.
“Mr. Wyatt sent me a text; said he needed some help.” The young cowboy couldn’t have been much older than twenty or twenty-one. He swept off his hat revealing dark hair and a dusting of freckles across his cheekbones. “I’m Brad Mott, but everyone calls me Boom.”
“Boom?” she repeated.
He nodded, grinned. “When I was little, I liked to crash things, and when I did, I’d go boom.” His grin widened. “I guess the name stuck.”
“Well, Boom, I’m Erika Baylor,” she said extending her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’ll take you to Billy.”
It took Boom most of the afternoon to get the crib and dresser put together, with Billy reading instructions, and holding pieces that he could, and then they tackled the high chair and by the time that was done Boom had to get home to feed the livestock.
Erika asked Billy about Boom after he was gone. “I take it, he’s a neighbor?”
“Lives just a couple miles down the road. His folks’ property butts up against mine. He’s helped me for a couple of years now, keeping an eye on things when I’m not here, and helping me with the odd job when I am home.”
“So, he’s not a rodeo cowboy?”
“He’s just your hardworking, salt of the earth cowboy. He’s the real deal.”
She smiled. “I like him. He’s a nice guy.”
“He’s saving up to get married—”
“What? He’s so young!”
“Almost twenty—”
“Even younger than I thought.”
“Boom and his girlfriend have been serious for a couple years. I’ve been thinking of hiring him on full-time. It’d give him steady income and Ellen would be happy knowing he’s got a good job close to home.”
“Is Ellen his girlfriend?”
“His mom. She used to be an ER nurse, but the local hospital closed and she didn’t want to be driving an hour to get to work.”
“You know your neighbors pretty well.”
“I’ve lived here a few years now. We’re all pretty isolated. It’s important to know who’s near you in case something happens.”
The next day, Billy oversaw the setup of Beck’s room, by directing Boom to place the crib just so, and then the small dresser which also served as a changing table against the opposite wall. He carefully crouched down, keeping his torso upright as he plugged the small bucking horse night-light in, and then rose, his gaze sweeping the room, clearly pleased with what he saw. “It looks good,” he said, glancing at Erika who’d been watching from the doorway. “What do you think?”
“I think it looks great. We’ll fill the top dresser drawer with diapers when we buy them, and the next drawer with Beck’s clothes when we’ve washed them.” She frowned. “Speaking of which, I should do that today. I haven’t done laundry in ages, not since our second day in Boise when I used the motel’s laundry room.”
Boom stayed for lunch—he’d brought the lunch, actually, thick roast beef and cheddar sandwiches on freshly baked bread—and during lunch, he and Billy discussed farm things and the horses and Erika’s mind drifted, as she considered her work. She really didn’t feel inspired. There was nothing in her that wanted to go to her room and be alone for hours. She’d always thought of herself as an introvert, preferring her own company over others, but being alone wasn’t appealing, not when fascinating, larger-than-life Billy Wyatt was in the next room.
She did get a little work done later, not enough to brag about, but in her room, she could at least pretend to be focused. Productive.
But a half hour into revising a section of her paper, she got a calendar reminder that rent was past due.
It was already early April.
Erika had never missed her rent before and couldn’t believe she’d forgotten it. How many other things was she forgetting? But life in Riverside was a world away from Billy’s cozy Utah cabin, and the longer she was here, the more comfortable she became. Her new daily routine included lots of teasing and banter, never mind breakfast, lunch, and dinner with Billy. She liked helping him get bandaged up, liked helping him dress, liked the shivery sensation she got when standing close to him, her lips just inches from the taut planes of his broad chest.
She closed the laptop and lay back on her bed, staring up at the beams in the ceiling, and the slow whirl of the rustic fan that kept the air moving.
How much longer would she stay here? Billy ought to have use of both arms soon, she thought, as well as the ability to lift and carry Beck without pain in his ribs. That would be what… a month? Two? Either way, the time would pass quickly, and that was both good and bad, because the passage of time brought her closer and closer to her dissertation’s due date. She’d done almost nothing in the past six weeks. She’d regret her lack of focus later. But now
, now she was needed, and wanted, and it was the best feeling.
Erika left her room and went to the living room where Beck was swinging away in his swing, while Billy watched TV. She walked past the basket of toys in the corner—a soft chunky truck, a fabric book, a teething ring that looked like a black and white cow—and thought yet again how lucky Beck was. Billy was going to be a great dad.
Her heart suddenly ached. Billy and his boy. They’d make a great team.
Chapter Eight
Billy woke to the sound of soft fussing from Beck’s room, the morning cry that Billy had come to identify as hello, I’m awake. Billy looked at the time. It was almost five thirty. Still dark out. But Beck didn’t seem to mind that the world was sleeping, he was ready to get up. Granddad was the same. Always awake before dawn.
Billy left bed, left arm bent at the elbow and pressed to his side and went to Beck’s room. He flipped on the little night-light and leaned over the crib. Beck was staring up at him with bright blue eyes, and the moment he spotted Billy, he gurgled and smiled, his wide irresistible smile. Billy’s chest tightened, filled with love and a fierce, primitive desire to protect his baby from all dangers. He’d do anything for Beck, just as he’d do anything for his brothers.
Billy carefully scooped up Beck with his right arm, carrying him to the changing table to get a dry diaper on him. Beck kept his wiggling to a minimum, just kicking legs a little bit as Billy drew the pajamas back up and then zipped the zipper, keeping Beck snug.
Together, they headed toward the living room, passing Erika’s room. Her door was still closed. No light shone beneath the door. Billy hoped she was still sleeping as she tended to stay up late and wake early. She probably needed far more sleep than she was getting.
They continued on to the kitchen where Billy slid Beck into his high chair so that he could put on a pot of coffee and then, while that was brewing, he turned his focus to a bottle for Beck. Before giving his son the bottle, Billy turned on the heat, and then lit the gas in the fireplace in the living room, and then carried first the coffee to the living room, then Beck and the bottle.
Beck was impatient for the bottle and gurgled his displeasure that he was being kept waiting. “Patience, little man,” Billy said, easing into his recliner. “You’ll have your milk soon enough. Let me just have one sip of coffee, okay?”
Beck emptied his bottle in record time and Billy did his best to burp him, shifting the baby against his good shoulder and giving him firm pats on the back. Beck’s hand reached up into Billy’s hair, grabbing little tufts and giving them hard tugs.
Beck was a strong little thing and growing by the day. He’d filled out a lot—if that was possible, considering he was a little chunk of love to begin with. It crossed Billy’s mind that maybe he should head back to Paradise Valley, spend a weekend with Mom and Granddad, and give them a chance to know his son better. He’d love to show Erika around Marietta, too. It was a great Western town, filled with lots of historical buildings and some new great restaurants. And then there was Grey’s Saloon, his favorite place for a beer. Maybe Joe and Sophie could watch Beck for an hour or two while Billy took Erika to Grey’s. Did Erika even drink beer? He was fairly confident she didn’t play pool.
And then he stopped himself.
There was no reason to take Erika to Montana, no reason to show her around. They weren’t in a relationship, and she wasn’t going to be an integral part of his life much longer. She was Beck’s aunt, or second cousin, or something along those lines, but he didn’t know how much of a relationship Erika and Beck would have once she returned to California. Billy wasn’t the type to stay in touch with those outside his own family. He never did the chasing, either. If a girl wanted him, they came after him, not vice versa. He wouldn’t hunt Erika down, not even when his travel took him to Southern California. Why invite trouble? And Erika was trouble. She was beautiful, desirable, and not available.
She’d never be available.
She was Beck’s mother’s family and he wasn’t about to hurt family, and he did hurt women. He disappointed them constantly. So no, Erika wouldn’t go with him. Which made him wonder, when would she go?
Which made his gut cramp because Beck would miss her something awful. Beck loved her and was attached to her and his little face lit up every time she entered the room. When he hadn’t seen her for a while he got fussy and restless, clearly needing to be back in her arms.
Billy dreaded the day Beck had to get used to life without her. Beck would grieve. He’d cry. He’d miss her.
But eventually he’d forget. Eventually he’d move on. He didn’t have a choice. That was just how life worked.
*
Erika stretched, enjoying soft sheets and warmth of the bed. She’d had such a good night sleep. She slowly opened her eyes, relaxed, content, wondering what time it was. Sunlight peeked around the blinds in her room. The clock read seven thirty. Erika sat up, panicked.
Beck.
Billy.
Throwing the covers back, she scrambled out of bed, threw on a sweatshirt and raced from her room. Beck’s door was open and his crib empty. She headed toward the living room and heard Billy’s voice. He was talking to someone, probably on the phone. But, arriving in the living room, she discovered he wasn’t on the phone. He was having a very long, one-sided conversation with his son.
Her lips curved, and she smiled, pleased. It was about time Billy started having father-son conversations.
Billy looked up and spotted her. “How did you sleep?”
“So good,” she answered, going to the fireplace to warm herself. This past week the mornings had been really cold, even as the afternoons warmed up. “Have you two been up long?”
“Since five thirty.”
“Oh no. I didn’t hear him crying.”
“He wasn’t fussing too much. Just saying hello. He was ready to get up.”
“He’s an early bird.”
“Granddad always was. I never liked those early morning hours, especially when you had to go to the barn and do chores.” Billy nodded to the kitchen. “Coffee’s made, but you might want to put on a fresh pot. That’s been sitting for a couple hours.”
“As long as it’s hot, I’m good.” She headed to the kitchen, glanced out the window over the sink. Blue, blue sky and a golden sun. It was going to be a gorgeous day. She filled her cup, added a splash of cream and one artificial sugar before returning to the living room.
“Want me to take him?” she asked Billy, indicating Beck.
Billy glanced down at Beck who was starting to look sleepy. “Maybe in a minute. He’s comfortable right now.”
“He does look very relaxed,” she agreed, settling into the corner of the couch near Billy’s chair. “What’s your plan for the day?”
“Besides showering, dressing, and getting in your way?”
She smiled crookedly. “You’re not in my way. I’m probably in your way, keeping you from doing whatever it is you usually do when you’re here.”
“Nope. For one, I’m not here all that often, just a couple of times a month at the most. And when I am, I’m usually doing laundry and washing the truck and trailer and getting ready for my next road trip.”
“No local girls to keep you company?”
“This is a bachelor pad. No women invited.”
“Seriously?”
“You’re the first woman that’s been here.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
He gave her a long, unsmiling look. “I’m not a man whore, despite what you think of me—”
“I’ve never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s implied in everything you say or do.”
“I don’t—”
“No, you do,” he interrupted firmly, but not unkindly. “Just because I haven’t fallen in love and settled down yet, doesn’t mean I view women as tissue—something to be used and discarded. I like women. I respect women. I’m not an asshole. I’m sorry I hurt April. I’m s
orry she didn’t feel comfortable coming to me and telling me she was pregnant, because I wouldn’t have turned her away. I wouldn’t have told her it was her problem. I would have been a man and done the right thing.”
That was a long speech coming from Billy. Erika wasn’t sure she’d ever heard him put so many sentences together at one time. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“I’ve always taken my responsibilities seriously.”
She rubbed her thumb along the rim of the warm mug. “Would you have married her?”
His features hardened, expression grim. “If that’s what she’d wanted.”
“Even though you didn’t love her?”
“Love might have grown over time.” He shrugged, his right shoulder twisting. “And if not, hopefully friendship would have been there.”
Erika hated the idea of April and Billy married. It was wrong of her, but it made her jealous, and vaguely sick. “I didn’t expect that from you.”
He didn’t reply and she dropped her gaze back to her mug. “And I imagine, April didn’t, either,” Erika added unsteadily.
“She should have come to me. I had a right to know that I’d created a child. I understand she was carrying it, but that it took two to make Beck, and I should have been involved from the beginning.”
“I don’t know what she was thinking. I didn’t even know Beck existed. She’d kept his birth from me.”
“Who knew then?”
“Her mom, my aunt. I don’t think my aunt even told anyone else. She was ashamed that April was a single mom. It wasn’t okay, not in our family.”
“I thought her mom was hooking up with different guys.”
“She went back to the church a couple years ago. She’s more devout than even her parents were.”
“Nothing like a reformed sinner.”
Erika knew it. Her mom had begun to spend more time with her aunt Sara. She was even dating someone in the Fundamentalist church. “Sometimes very religious families are the least loving of all,” she said, rising from the couch and pacing to the set of French doors with the view of the valley and the distant rugged red rocks. “You’d think my mom and aunt would have compassion for April, but no, she’d chosen a heathen lifestyle.”
