The Bull Rider's Christmas Baby

by Laura Marie Altom

  With a sleepy, smiley nod, he drifted back to sleep.

  “Wake up,” she coaxed with a gentle nudge. “I want you out of here.”

  “Did our bags make it all right?”

  “What?” Wren laughed at Cash’s latest drug-induced question.

  “Can’t start our Vegas honeymoon without my wife having her suitcase.” Eyes already closed, he added, “It’s a secret, so don’t tell her you know.”

  TWO DAYS LATER CASH WOKE to his knee still feeling as if he’d wrestled with a hundred hornets and lost.

  “Wren!” he hollered from their room.

  She bustled in with Robin.

  Prissy followed, looking none too happy about the baby taking her usual spot in Wren’s arms.

  Wren said, “Breakfast is almost done.”

  He winced. “I need something for pain.”

  “I want you to take it with something to eat, so you’ll need to wait about five minutes.”

  Trying to shift positions and only causing more burning agony, he growled.

  “How did you cope with pain while riding?”

  “That was different. A man can’t show he’s a wuss in front of thousands of people.”

  “Uh-huh…” Wren plopped the baby next to him on the comforter before making a nuisance of herself by fluffing his pillows.

  Robin fussed.

  Cash tried reaching to comfort her, but couldn’t quite pull it off.

  “Let me,” Wren said, snatching her up. “You rest.”

  “I’m tired of resting.”

  “Want me to turn on the TV?” Wyatt had needed a part for one of the oil rigs, which had called for a trip to Tulsa. Since he’d been only a few miles from an electronics store, Cash had coerced him into picking up the new flat screen now parked atop the dresser. “No, thanks.”

  “Other than a pain pill and breakfast, what do you want?”

  He sighed. “To feel normal again. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve put in a full day’s training? Or even helped Dallas with the ranch?” Judging by her hasty look away from him and out the wall of bedroom windows, she knew exactly how long it’d been since either of them had worked at anything besides caring for her, then newborn Robin and now him. Were their lives forever destined to stagnate in this holding pattern?

  “I’m as frustrated as you, but it won’t be too long until you’re on a busy rehabilitation schedule.” Her back to him, with Robin calmed and resettled on the bed, she began putting up the clean clothes overflowing the laundry basket. “Plus, I’m not exactly thrilled with this situation, either.”

  “Way to make a man feel loved.” Was he imagining things, or for a fraction of a second after his quip, did she freeze? As if she hadn’t viewed his joke as all that amusing. Did she love him? She’d sure shown him in a hundred ways. By nursing him around the clock. Doting on their daughter and dog. Those kinds of things were enough to prove love, right? He was hardly in secure enough to need something as lame as a verbal confirmation.

  “I’ve been thinking…” Continuing with her task, she said, “Though you may not believe it now, by the end of the week you’ll be off your crutches and busy with strengthening exercises.”

  Why did his stomach now hurt more than his knee? “What are you saying?”

  “We’d planned for me to resume my residency in February.”

  “Yeah, but in Tulsa, right?”

  Either she hadn’t heard him or was deliberately ignoring him. Knowing her as he did, he voted for the latter.

  “What’s going through that pretty head of yours?”

  She tucked her bras into his sock drawer—his tip-off that something was going on.

  “Talk to me, Wren.”

  “I’m fed up, okay?” She spun to face him. “Your whole life you’ve been programmed to care for dozens of people. Your mom and dad. Brothers and sister. Neighbors and friends. I’m a loner, and all of this domestic bliss is getting on my nerves.”

  Liar. In his esteemed opinion, she was scared. But that was okay. He had enough love in him to see all three of them through. He might’ve been out of it after his surgery, but he also remembered her shining eyes. The way she’d sweetly kissed him—as if he’d been a dream she was afraid would fade away.

  Trying to lighten the mood, he asked, “I don’t suppose I could trouble you for breakfast and a pain pill be fore you go?”

  “I’m sorry.” Face reddening, she crushed him in a hug. “I don’t know what got into me.”

  “It’s all right,” he assured her. “Between your pregnancy and my knee, we’ve both been at this bed-rest thing for too long.”

  “Speaking of which…” Reclining on her side of the king-size mattress, Wren tickled Robin’s chubby tummy. “Not sure if you remember or not, but when you were waking from surgery, you spilled the beans on a Vegas trip. Was that for real or drug-induced rambling?”

  Stomach hurting again, only for a much different reason, he asked, “Am I going to be in trouble if I confess to ignorance?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’d like to take you. Have to admit it sounds fun. We could book the same room.” He winked. “Reenact our first night together.”

  “On that note—” she sat up “—I’m off to get your breakfast. Need me to take the baby?”

  “Leave her. She’s a good distraction.”

  His wife flashed a pinched smile before closing the bedroom door. Hard to believe a few minutes earlier, his throbbing knee had been his only problem. Now he was also left to dwell on not only what Wren wasn’t telling him, but how he was going to find out.

  IN CASH’S STUDY WITH the door closed, well away from the prying eyes and ears of not only her husband, but Mrs. Cahwood, Wren’s hand’s trembled to such a degree she had difficulty punching Abigail’s private cell number into the phone.

  Wren had hoped her talk with Cash would’ve gone better, but then, how could it when she feared he wasn’t going to like what she had to say?

  “Happy baby, Miss Barnes!” her friend uncharacteristically gushed after two rings, no doubt recognizing the Oklahoma number on her caller ID. “When am I going to see you? Sometimes I feel like you were the only competent candidate on our team.”

  “Actually, that’s why I called.” Though flattered, Wren knew Abigail’s complaint was pure fiction, considering the team consisted of ten of the brightest young medical minds in the country. “I spoke with the dean about a possible transfer to University of Oklahoma’s Tulsa residency program. He sent the papers a while back, but I have yet to sign them.”

  “I thought that was a joke.” In her mind’s eye Wren saw the always perfectly dressed, unflappable surgeon seated behind her French provincial desk, no doubt multitasking as she talked. “I’m sure Oklahoma produces fine physicians, but Wren, you and I both know you’re special. Destined for greatness that can only be fostered by greatness. That sort of training can only be found in a handful of programs. Ours happens to be one of them. There’s a reason you haven’t filled out those transfer forms. Deep down, you know I’m right.”

  Twirling a pencil between her fingers, Wren searched for a legitimate argument, but came up lacking.

  “Now, the committee agrees that due to your pregnancy, you’ve missed too much of your first year to make up. No worries, though, as I’ve already found you a plum research position. Really top-notch, which you’ll be able to start right away. Meaning, you’ve been hiding out on the prairie long enough. I want you and baby back here pronto. You’re even welcome to stay with me, which I wish I’d suggested in the first place before you took off for the wilds. I should’ve hired a private medical jet to safely carry you home.” Barely pausing for breath, she added, “What’s done is done. All that matters now is making up for lost time. Tell me your ad dress and I’ll send you and baby your itinerary and flight information. Do babies fly free?” Laughing, she said, “I have no idea, but my secretary should know.”

  “Dr. West—Abigail…”
Wren’s mouth was so dry, her tongue could barely move. Her mentor held the key to her every dream. Even her housing problem had been magically whisked away. Abigail had taken on the role of her fairy godmother and as such, seemed determined to knock down any obstacle. Little did she know Wren’s only roadblock happened to be a husband.

  “Sorry to cut this short. I didn’t realize the time, and I’m due in surgery in ten. Let me transfer you to Eloise and she’ll get your address.”

  After a brief conversation with the secretary that basically consisted of turning traitor on her new family, Wren hung up the phone.

  Chapter Nineteen

  On crutches, six days after his surgery, Cash hobbled from the front door to the barn, trying not to squash Prissy in the process. The mutt danced around him, growling at the metal frames as if they were dragons. His knee still throbbed, but it felt great to be out of bed and into bright sun. Though the temperature was barely fifty, his efforts already had him working up a sweat.

  “You’re doing great, sweetheart.” Wren, with a bundled-up Robin in her arms, walked alongside him. “Don’t be afraid to admit you need to rest.”

  “No way,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m going for it.” His body said otherwise. Refusing to give in to the pain, he split the difference by leaning back on his crutches.

  Out on the dirt road a dust cloud rose, caused by a speeding FedEx truck.

  “There’s something you don’t see every day,” he noted. When the vehicle turned onto their drive, he asked, “You order something?”

  Her face paled. “No.”

  “Maybe he’s headed for the main house and took a wrong turn?”

  The driver parked and hopped out. “Morning. Either of you Wren Barnes?”

  “She’s Wren Buckhorn.” Grinning, still resting on his crutches, Cash hooked his thumb in his wife’s direction. “Guess someone didn’t get the memo about our wedding.”

  Not looking amused, the driver held out a computerized clipboard for Wren to sign. She did.

  The driver in turn handed over a ten-by-thirteen envelope. “Have a great day.”

  “Who’s it from?” Cash asked, peeking over her shoulder. Unfortunately, Robin blocked his view.

  “It’s no doubt paperwork on my residency transfer.”

  “Open it,” he urged, more than ready for her stay in Oklahoma to become officially permanent.

  “Later. Now you have work to do.” Smacking his butt with her package, she said, “Come on, get moving to the barn.”

  Midway there, Robin began to fuss.

  “What’s wrong?” Cash asked their daughter in a coochie-coo tone.

  Wrinkling her nose, Wren said, “Surprise! Your baby left a smelly package for you.”

  “Not me.” Hustling toward his goal, he said, “Remember? I’ve got more work to do.”

  “Will you be okay on your own?” Her furrowed brow didn’t show much faith in his hobbling skills.

  “I’m fine,” he promised. “Go ahead and get her changed. I smell her from here.”

  IN THE HOUSE, Wren quickly changed Robin’s diaper before placing her in her living-room playpen. After a hand wash, Wren sat on the sofa with her envelope. Abigail’s return address already had her dreading the contents.

  She’d just torn the zip closure when Cash fumbled through the door, Prissy leading the way.

  “How’s that for record timing?” he asked with the same broad smile that had first drawn her to him so many months ago.

  “I’m impressed.” She was also finding it hard to breathe now that his growing efficiency with his crutches had him already across the room, collapsing on to the sofa beside her. “Good job.”

  “Thanks.” He seemed expectant. As if he wanted something.

  “Thirsty?” she asked, already rising. “Need me to take off your shoes?”

  “What’s in the envelope, Wren?”

  If her heart raced any faster, she’d keel over. “I—I already told you I don’t know.”

  Sighing, he raked his fingers through his hair. “In all the time we’ve been together, I don’t think you’ve ever just out-and-out lied to me. Why start now?”

  She wanted to continue the lie indefinitely, but couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to him or his family, who had been nothing but welcoming to her from practically her first day on the ranch. Yes, she and Georgina had gotten off to a rocky start, but now that Wren was a mother, she understood why her mother-in-law had been so preoccupied with the interests of Cash and her future grandchild.

  “Talk to me.” He took her hand, tracing the outline of her fingers. “What could be so bad?”

  “I—I have to go.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot and messy and strangely quiet. As if the pain stemmed from so deep inside her that the secret place had never before been exposed.

  “Go where, honey?”

  “Back to Baltimore. I never even applied for a transfer. I started to—many times—but couldn’t. The chance to one day work with Dr. West is just too rare.”

  “And you and me and Robin? What we have isn’t rare?”

  “Cash, please…” Still crying, she struggled with a way to make him understand just how much she hated doing this to not only him, but herself. “My leaving is for the best. I’ve been fooling myself in ever thinking the two of us could last anywhere near forever. Since the day we first met, I’ve told you I’m a loner. I just wasn’t made for a shared life.”

  He didn’t look at her. Didn’t move a muscle other than an errant nerve ticking in his jaw.

  “When you were in surgery,” she said, “it destroyed me. And that was a relatively minor thing. I would die should something more serious ever happen—like I permanently lose you.”

  After a sharp laugh, he said, “So instead of letting fate take its course, like most sane married couples do, you’re grabbing the bull by the horns and just leaving me?”

  “It’s not that simple,” she tried to explain. “My whole career is at stake. Everything I’ve worked so hard for.”

  This time when he pushed himself up, he stayed on his feet while reaching for his crutches.

  “You should rest,” Wren advised. “After such a long walk, you have to be exhausted.”

  “Don’t,” he ground out. “Don’t you dare pretend to care.”

  “I do. You mean the world to me. I—” I love you. Trouble was, she wasn’t even sure what the words meant. Life experience had taught her love equals pain. Growing attached to someone or something equaled eventual loss. It was as simple as that. Why couldn’t Cash understand?

  “How long have you been planning this escape?”

  Raising her chin, she admitted, “From the day I set foot on your property.”

  “Why’d you even bother marrying me? Other than making me out to be a fool?”

  “I don’t know.” Covering her face with her hands, she now knew that to be true. At the time she’d been caught up in the romance of it all. The cake and gorgeous white dress. The fairy-tale hope that maybe just this once, dreams really would come true. But then she’d talked to Abigail and realized her actual dreams resided back in Baltimore. With the goals she’d held dear ever since playing doctor on her little dog Waldo all those years ago.

  “I suppose you’re taking the baby?” he asked.

  “Of course. I’m still breastfeeding.”

  “All right, then.” Hobbling toward the back door, he said, “Let me know when you need a ride to the airport. I’ll make sure there’s someone around to drive you.”

  His cold demeanor was more than she could bear.

  “Please, Cash…” She went to him, put her arms around him, expecting his usual strong embrace. The one that made her feel safe and secure and capable of meeting any goal she’d ever dreamed of achieving. But instead of wrapping his arms around her, he stood ramrod still, hands curved tight around his crutch handles. “Talk to me,” she begged. “Tell me you still want to spend time with Robin and me during your touring breaks.”
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  “Right now,” he cruelly noted, “I’d gladly see my daughter every day. As for you, I’d probably get along just fine never setting eyes on you again.”

  AT FIVE THE NEXT MORNING, the lights from Henry’s pickup shone through the front windows.

  Having been up most of the night tossing and turning in the guest bed, Wren stood in the living room waiting. Robin slept in the carrier portion of her car seat that Cash had informed her he’d already switched to the foreman’s truck. Prissy also slept, only in her designer pooch purse.

  Her actions braver than her emotions, Wren mechanically walked toward the door, telling herself she’d made the right decision for her daughter and her. The opportunities for Robin in Baltimore would be limitless. Here in Weed Gulch she’d be lucky to win a spelling bee, let alone a prestigious debate title or science scholarship.

  “Sure you want to do this?” Henry asked when Wren opened the door.

  Not sure at all, she went through the motions, assuring him in a falsely bright tone that if she wanted to be a doctor, returning to Baltimore was her only option.

  Wren had hoped Cash would at least step out of the room they used to share long enough to say goodbye, but he didn’t.

  And so she left, leaving behind no traces she’d ever been there save for Robin’s crib and changing table and the light floral scent of her own perfume in the air.

  The ride to the airport was uneventful.

  Henry wasn’t the talkative sort, and Wren was thankful for the fact. Pulling up to the curb nearest her airline, he unloaded everything, slipped the porter a twenty and then with the slightest tip of his hat, climbed back behind the wheel and drove off.

  Standing in the surprisingly long security line, Wren reflected on how many people she’d hurt by not at least saying goodbye. Georgina and Stella. Delores, Mrs. Cahwood and Doc Haven. Even Dallas and Wyatt and the twins. Surely she’d see all of them again. After all, they were family.

  Then why are you leaving?

  The question hit from nowhere with the force of an Oklahoma twister to her gut. Had it not been for the knowledge that Abigail was expecting her in Baltimore, Wren might’ve called Cash, begging him to forgive her for putting a stupid job before their marriage. But then she came to her senses. Becoming a doctor was a goal she’d worked hard for. It wasn’t stupid, but noble. Once licensed, she knew she’d be able to do good for so many people, rather than merely a few.