He took off his own Stetson and brushed his hair back with his forearm as he stared at the elevator doors in the lobby. Somewhere two floors above, Amy was with her new daughter.
It’d been a pretty dramatic moment all in all, and if he was still a little shaken by it, he could only imagine how she felt now that she had a baby to take care of.
Another man’s child.
He pressed his eyes shut, their conversation still playing a continuous loop in his mind. He rubbed his chest, the heaviness still there—but history like that wasn’t easy to get over. Then there was Gus’s disapproving look mixing in with the mess. But the old man just didn’t understand. And Marshall couldn’t get past the picture of Amy in the wedding gown with a bright new ring on her finger, and another man standing beside her.
Then what am I doing here?
He’d been walking in a fog since last night, and he tried to shake out of it yet again. Turning to leave, Marshall stumbled slightly as his boot scraped against the big white and pink basket. Right, Keira.
Get out of your head and back to the here and now, Marsh.
The ding of the bell announced the arrival of the elevator. With a heavy breath, he reluctantly picked up the basket and set the bear inside next to the multitude of pink paraphernalia. This afternoon, Keira had beamed at the reminder of the miracle that had happened, as if she’d just gained a niece. His goal had been to get the lumber to fix the honky tonk’s garbage enclosure since idiot Austin Talbot ran into it a few nights ago, but Keira’s had been to get him to take the gift basket to the hospital. He hated that he gave in quicker than he should have—and the obnoxious smirk on his friend’s face told him she knew it.
With a resigned swipe of his chin, Marshall stepped into the elevator and rode up to the maternity ward. The doors opened, and he straightened his back before heading down the hall to the room number Keira had instructed. Just outside the door, he paused at the firm voice coming from inside the room.
“I won’t hear of it, Amy. You’re coming home with me and Davis, and that’s all there is too it.”
“Andee, really, I appreciate you letting me borrow the baby stuff and all your help. But I think it’s best if I go back. I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will, but that’s not the point. Remember, I wore the new-mama shoes not so long ago—but at least I had help from Davis, not to mention Honey filling in at the café.”
Marshall knew he should just drop the basket and leave, but the heavy, almost defeated breath of response burned his ears, and his body refused to move.
There were a few clicked steps before Amy’s cousin spoke again. “I don’t want you to be all alone when there is no good reason for you to go back to Fort Worth. Honestly, what’s there for you? Your house is on the market and could sell out from under you at any time. And you’ve said you don’t enjoy working at the inn since the new owners took over.” The creak of a bed broke into the pause. “You were coming here to pick up the bassinet and baby clothes anyway, so why not just stay—stay where there’s people who love you and can help. Trust me, the first few weeks are a learning curve, not to mention the sleep deprivation.”
Andee’s laughter filtered out of the door. Small gurgles and mews of a baby filled the following silence as Marshall listened intently for Amy’s reply. From the small trip up the elevator, he’d almost been half ready to offer, if not his full forgiveness, at least enough so Amy could go and live her life the way she needed to—he’d just never expected that life to be lived so close.
“I love you, Andee, but I can’t disrupt your lives like that. The last thing you two need is two more bodies crowding your home—especially one that could be up all night crying for all we know. I’d hate to disrupt Davis and his vet practice…what if he has early morning calls?”
“Don’t worry about him. He got used to it real quick with Jackson. Besides, we’ve already talked about it, and he’s in full agreement.” The groan of released mattress springs preceded the clip of shoes on tiled floor. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Amy. I know how hard it was with Hank this last year. He didn’t need to be so cru—”
“Don’t, Andee. I don’t want to talk about that anymore. There’s no sense…”
What happened with Hank last year? Why did she have to be strong? Marshall leaned forward to hear the rest, but her strained voice lowered to an unintelligible level, until the bitter tone came back loud and clear.
“Like Marshall said, I picked my bed…”
He cringed and dropped his chin at the bite of his own words. The pink-hatted bear stared back, its smile mocking him.
“Hey, doesn’t matter what you chose…no one deserved to be treated like that.”
Marshall’s head snapped up at Andee’s sharp retort. What did Hank do? He glanced around quickly, suddenly realizing what it must look like, eavesdropping outside the door, but the nurses at the desk down the hall were chatting away amongst themselves, and the elevators remained silent.
“Wait, I’ve got it,” Andee’s excited voice interjected. “The apartment above the café is empty. Honey moved out last month to be with Chase. It’s perfect for the two of you. This way you’ll have your own space, but we’ll be close enough to help out.”
Though he didn’t hear Amy’s low reply, her cousin’s attitude came through with all the tolerance of family. “I understand your concerns, but you know you don’t have a choice, right?”
The unexpected, soft laughter in answer stole through the door and knocked him back against the wall. A sound he hadn’t heard in a very long time. He hadn’t expected the old emotions to surface so quickly.
“Okay, I guess we’ll stay then.”
Marshall drew down his brows at the confirmation in her tone. A squeal from Andee quickly filled the room, followed by the startled cry of a baby.
He fought for breath as a bunch of cooing and soft laughter escaped the doorway as they settled the baby back down. He didn’t move to go in, and his legs were too heavy to walk away, the same kind of heaviness that lay like a fist on his chest.
Yes, if he had to admit it, maybe he did feel better Amy wouldn’t be alone at a time like this. But having her so close? And what about what Andee said? You don’t have to be strong all the time. I know how hard it was with Hank this last year…no one deserves to be treated like that.
Not liking the questions the overheard conversation spun in his head, Marshall readjusted his Stetson. He would’ve been wiser not to have come here in the first place. He’d be wise now to leave it alone, to let her get on with her life, and him with his.
He stared hard at the open doorway, his body tugged in two directions as a soft lullaby floated through. Harder to do than it should have been, he quietly set the basket outside the door and walked away…for once in his life choosing the wiser decision.
****
“I think that’s all of it.” Amy pulled the strap of the new baby bag over her shoulder, the big pink bow still on the front from when Andee brought it to them earlier. Same with Jackson’s outgrown car seat.
“Good. I’ll go down and bring the car to the front.” Andee gave her a big hug. “I am so glad you’ll be staying.”
“For now,” she replied pointedly.
“For now,” her cousin repeated with a knowing, overly impish smile before flipping her red strands and skipping from the room.
Amy blew out what seemed to be her hundredth sigh of resignation since Andee first brought up the idea. Truth be told though, her cousin was right. There was no longer anything holding her to Fort Worth; at least here, she’d be close to family again.
The squeaking of wheels entered the room and she turned to find the smiling day nurse pushing a wheelchair through the doorway.
“Your chariot awaits, ladies.”
Amy grimaced. “Do I really need that?”
“Rules are rules. Think of it as your last free ride until after little Charlotte there gets married.”
As the n
urse giggled, Amy caught a glimpse of a fluffy white teddy bear wearing the cutest pink cowboy hat and boots sitting in the middle of the seat.
“Oh how sweet! Thank you.”
“Isn’t it? But, don’t thank me. I found her sitting outside your door. It must have fallen out of one of your gift baskets.”
Along with Andee’s, she’d received one other from the owners of the Lonesome Steer Honky Tonk. Her cheeks still burned in embarrassment at the memory, but the gesture and gifts that overflowed the pink and white basket were truly heartwarming considering the trouble she’d caused.
Smiling, she accepted the bear and wiggled it in front of Charlotte’s wide eyes. A familiar whiff of soapy musk drifted instantly around her, froze her for a moment before she creased her brows and held the bear away. It couldn’t be…
She shook her head. No, just your hormones all mixed up right now. That made far more sense than Marshall—
“Amy? You okay?”
“Hmmm?” She raised her head to find Andee back and staring at her with a concerned frown. Amy forced a smile to her tight lips. “Yep, mm-hmmm, good to go.” She dropped the bear onto the blanket covering her daughter in the car seat and shook out of her silly thoughts.
While her cousin collected the baskets and overnight bag, Amy reluctantly sat in the wheelchair. The clean, earthy musk scent haunted her again as she set the car seat on her knees.
“You’ll see, Amy,” Andee said as she led the small circus line out the door. “Staying in Redemption may just turn out to be the best thing…for both of you.”
Amy gulped. Both of us? What did Andee mean by tha—oh, Charlotte and me, of course…of course.
Chapter Five
Amy readjusted the baby carrier to one hand, and used the other to pull on the big handle of the Lonesome Steer’s double doors. Bright afternoon sun shone behind her, making the inside darker as she entered. The drone of a dishwasher and the soft clinking of silverware echoed about as she waited for her eyes to adjust.
“He-e-ey, look at you.”
Amy turned toward the sound of the welcoming voice to find Keira and another woman wrapping cutlery in napkins.
The lovely blonde headed her way. “You don’t look like a woman who just delivered a baby.”
Accepting Keira’s hug, Amy replied, “How about one who delivered in the back office of a honky tonk?”
Laughter rang out as the bartender stepped back. “Nope, not that either.” Her focus turned to the baby carrier and her smile grew tenfold. “Is this her?”
Amy snorted at the obvious answer, and, with a wide grin of her own, nodded.
“Well bring her on over.” Keira waved her hand excitedly toward a nearby table.
Setting the carrier on the worn oak surface, she peeled back the pink blanket just as the other woman came over to join them. Keira let out a long and low awwwwhhh almost simultaneously with the waitress.
“What did you name her?”
“Lonesome Steera McGill, in memory of where she was born and to thank you for all your help.” When the woman’s brows jumped above wide brown eyes, Amy couldn’t hold the straight face. “Just kidding.”
“Oh, thank God!” Keira’s slim hand rose to pat the ample chest beneath the honky tonk logo on her navy blue tank. “But, really, it’s not unusual these days. Name choices are getting more outrageous and obscure.” She hiked a thumb to the woman beside her. “Take Tulsa Blue over here for instance.”
“Hey!” the young brunette exclaimed with a good-natured sock to her boss’s arm. “At least people remember me,” she added with a laugh.
“Well, I went for something a little more traditional,” Amy said. “Charlotte Marie.” She brushed a hand over her daughter’s pale, downy hair. “Marie for my mom,” she added quietly.
The oooh and awws erupted again.
“I don’t know.” A twinkle beamed from the eyes of the older man approaching. “I think Gussa or Gussalyn woulda been a good choice.”
Keira laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Amy, this is my dad, Gus.”
He held his hand out. “You were a little busy for introductions last week. Nice to finally meet you.”
She accepted his warm greeting, now recalling the graying, handlebar mustache from behind the bar when she first arrived that night.
“Speaking of thank you.” She turned to include Keira in her earnest affirmation. “Thank you both so much for the basket but especially everything you did for me, for us, that night.” Her cheeks warmed. “I am so sorry for disrupting your business and—”
“No need for that. We were only too glad to help.” Gus peeked over at the baby. “Besides, the beauty is the first baby born in this old honky tonk—we had a close call with Lance Dugan’s little one—but she’s the first. Makes her kinda extra special, don’t you think?”
Amy glanced to her daughter, her heart ballooning with pride until her chest almost couldn’t hold it. “Yes, she is.”
“Can I hold her?” This came from Keira who aimed a hopeful smile her way.
“Sure.” Undoing the straps of the carrier, she lifted the pink swaddled baby out and placed her in the other woman’s arms. Tiny rose lips turned down at the disturbed nap.
“She is so adorable,” Keira gushed, and inhaled a deep breath. “I love that baby smell.”
Gus shimmied up beside her. “I think my daughter doesn’t plan to give your little one up for a bit.” He nodded his head toward the kitchen. “Marshall’s out back. I’m sure he’d like to see you, and the babe too, since he was a big part of it all.”
Amy’s chest constricted at the thought. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” Even though he’d been gracious enough to set aside his anger to help out in an emergency, she had no illusions the unexpected drama changed anything. Still, part of her had hoped he’d come by the hospital so she could talk to him…ask him…
“I appreciated his help more than he’ll ever know,” she finally said in all honesty. “But I’m afraid I’m not one of his favorite people right now.” She tried to hold the small smile, but it was hard.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never known Marshall to hold a grudge.”
“Yeah, well, he has a good reason this time.” Because I burned that bridge to cinders.
A low chuckle twitched the long ends of his mustache. “Good reasons are like tumbleweeds, a change in wind and they disappear down a whole new path.”
Her lip tilted. Something told her this old man wasn’t going to give up that easy. And wasn’t the reason for coming here today to thank them, all of them? At least if she did, then she wouldn’t have that hanging over her for the rest of her life, too.
“You’re right. Where did you say he was?”
“Out back.” He raised a hand, motioning behind the bar. “Through the door, turn left and you’ll see the exit.”
“Thank you.”
A quick glance to her daughter caused sudden anxiety to overtake her, and she hesitated.
“Don’t you worry none there.” Gus’s comforting hand rested on her shoulder. “We’ll take good care of little Miss Charlotte. Why, she’s practically family now.”
Amy returned an embarrassed grin. How silly to panic at leaving her daughter. It still amazed her how immediate it all became, the love, the worry, the protectiveness. She nodded, thankful for their understanding, for all their help to a complete stranger. They really were a remarkable family, and she felt honored they included her daughter in their fold.
With a nervous gesture, she pointed to the door. “I’ll just head out then—but I won’t be long.” That last bit came not only with the need to be with her daughter, but with the expectation that Marshall wouldn’t have much to say to her, anyway.
With coos and praise over her daughter bolstering her nerves, Amy walked—on her own this time—through the door next to the bar and turned left, down the hall toward the propped-open door at the end. Shading the bright sun with a hand on her forehead, she followe
d the rhythmic hammering coming from the side of the wood-paneled building.
Her heart upped its rhythm with every step closer. What would Marshall think? Would he give her the chance to thank him this time, even though he didn’t give her the chance to apologize the last time he saw her? Every scenario flashed through her mind on fast forward…every scenario but the one that greeted her when she rounded the back corner of the honky tonk.
Holy cow. Sunbeams glinted off the bronze muscles of his bare chest and arms with a god-like intensity, stealing the breath from her lungs and raising the heat in her cheeks to sunburn level. Add the low-riding jeans and Stetson pulled low over his forehead and…
Amy gulped, at least tried to, but her throat was suddenly too dry.
Corny as the description sounded in her own head, one glorious bicep rippled as the hammer in his hand came down over a two-by-four; his easy strength propelling the thick nail deep into the wood.
Vaguely, she knew the repetitious pounding stopped, but couldn’t remove her gaze from the shimmering appendage. It wasn’t until the silence penetrated her brain that she snapped out of the unexpected fascination.
Raising her focus to his face, she immediately noted the low brow stare. An odd stare, like he was deciding if there was someone in front of him or not.
“G-Gus said you were back here,” she stuttered, trying to restore her equilibrium.
His jaw ticked and tightened, and the previous fanciful thoughts of riveting biceps and god-like visions vanished.
What was I thinking?
As if shaking himself out of his own thoughts, he stood up straight and removed his Stetson, using his forearm to swipe at his forehead before replacing it.
To avoid another stare session at his sun-drenched body’s fluid movements, Amy took in the saw horses, lumber, and peanut shells scattered in the sawdust. She stepped closer and grasped for the first thing that came to mind to break the awkwardness. “What are you making?”
His eyes glanced up quickly before he grabbed up another nail and bent his head back to the job. “Fixing the garbage enclosure.”
Honky Tonk Hearts Volume 2 Page 39
