The Maverick's Ready-Made Family

by Brenda Harlen

  “If people weren’t looking at us before, they are now,” she noted.

  “No one is looking at us,” Clay denied. “They’re all too busy staring into the besotted gazes of their dates across the table.”

  She lifted her brows. “Do I look besotted?”

  “Completely infatuated—at least with that Tuscan chicken.”

  “It does look delicious,” she admitted.

  Marcos, who had been standing discreetly nearby, immediately came to her assistance, transferring a piece of the chicken and a spoonful of vegetables onto her plate. Clay opted to start with the prime rib, and Marcos fixed his plate, as well.

  “I hope you don’t expect this kind of service at Wright’s Way in the morning,” Antonia said.

  “As long as I get a smile with my coffee, I won’t complain,” he assured her.

  “That can probably be arranged.” She popped a piece of chicken into her mouth. “Oh, this is good. Really good.”

  “You should try the beef,” Clay said.

  Of course, she did. And the pork and the fish and the pasta. Despite her frequent jokes about eating for two, she had never actually eaten so much, but she couldn’t resist sampling at least a bite of everything.

  “I can understand why Shane Roarke, the new chef, is the toast of the town,” she said, when she finally folded her napkin and set it aside.

  “Do you know where he came from?” Clay asked.

  “Seattle, I believe. Apparently Grant Clifton found him when he was out there for some business meetings. The story is that Grant was so impressed by the chef’s culinary genius, he made it his personal mission to bring him to the resort.”

  “Seattle’s loss is definitely Thunder Canyon’s gain,” he agreed. “Although we have yet to see what he can do with dessert.”

  Antonia shook her head as she rubbed a hand over her belly. “I couldn’t possibly eat another bite of anything.”

  “Not even deep-fried ice cream?”

  “You are Satan.”

  He chuckled. “We’ll work off the calories later.”

  “I might not be able to move,” she warned.

  “I can be creative.”

  Her cheeks flushed. She knew he could—and she’d been extremely grateful for his creativity. She was also grateful that his interest had not yet waned. Of course, she knew their relationship couldn’t last forever. As soon as her baby was born, everything would change.

  And that was why she was going to make the most of every minute they had together before then.

  Chapter Twelve

  Antonia was in the office after lunch on Thursday when Clay sent her a message asking her to meet him in his room. She didn’t think he was expecting to tangle the sheets with her in the middle of the afternoon, but she ran a brush through her hair and dabbed on some lip gloss before heading to the boarding house, anyway.

  Bennett was napping in his crib when she arrived, which made her wonder if she’d been wrong about Clay’s intentions. Especially when he kissed her, deeply and thoroughly. Antonia realized that she’d become addicted to those kisses in a very short period of time. It was a realization that might have worried her if she thought too much about it, but right now she was more curious about the mysterious lump that was covered by a blanket on the middle of his bed.

  “I had some errands to run in town today and picked up something for you.”

  “You bought me a gift?”

  “Well, it’s actually more for the baby,” he admitted. “But I hope you’ll like it, too.”

  With great flourish, he pulled the blanket away, revealing a gorgeous cherry wood antique cradle.

  A very familiar gorgeous cherry wood antique cradle.

  “You went to Real Vintage Cowboy,” she guessed.

  “I was only walking past, until I saw this in the window. Do you like it?”

  She could only nod, afraid that if she tried to speak, he would hear the tears that clogged her throat.

  “Your friend, Catherine, didn’t want to sell it to me at first. She claimed it was on hold for another customer.”

  “What—” She cleared her throat. “What changed her mind?”

  “I told her that no other customer would cherish it as much as you would, and she finally agreed.”

  “I would cherish it,” she said, “but I can’t accept it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I know how much this is worth.”

  “I got ten percent off,” he told her. “She called it the friends-of-friends discount.”

  Antonia could just imagine how Catherine’s mind had started spinning when she realized that Clay intended to buy the cradle for her baby. And she knew that she had to be careful or her mind might start spinning the same way.

  “It’s still far too extravagant a gift,” she insisted.

  He took her hand. “I’d really like you to have it.”

  And she didn’t have the willpower to say no to something that she really wanted. It was the same dilemma she faced every night when she came to Clay’s room. She knew she was getting in too deep, that she was already more than halfway in love with him and dangerously close to tumbling the rest of the way. As if a romantic dinner at The Gallatin Room wasn’t enough, now he was buying presents for her baby. How was any woman supposed to hold out against a man who was so kind and thoughtful? Why would any woman want to?

  Because the last time she’d given a man her heart, it had been handed back to her in pieces—and she wasn’t going to risk that happening again. She knew that Clay wasn’t like Gene. He’d made that clear in so many ways. She also knew that he wasn’t going to stay in Thunder Canyon forever, and that meant that there was no future for them together.

  Thinking of Clay’s inevitable return to Rust Creek Falls reminded her of his recent trip back to his hometown.

  “You never did tell me what happened in court last week,” she told him. “Aside from the fact that you got the custody order.”

  He nodded. “My petition was uncontested.”

  “I’m not sure whether to offer congratulations or condolences,” she admitted.

  “I was torn, too. On the one hand, it’s a relief to know that Delia has no intention of coming back to try and take Bennett away from me, and that she wouldn’t succeed now even if she did try. On the other hand, it’s sad to accept that she has absolutely no interest in the child that she gave birth to.”

  She touched a hand to his arm. “And you’re already wondering how you’re ever going to explain that to Bennett when he asks about his mom.”

  He nodded.

  “The best thing you can do—and that you’re already doing—is to ensure that he knows how much you love him,” she told Clay. “His relationship with his mother isn’t for you to figure out. You can’t, and shouldn’t, make excuses for her behavior.”

  “I know you’re right,” he agreed. “I guess I just can’t understand how she could just hand him over to me and walk away.”

  “My baby isn’t even born yet, and I can’t imagine handing him or her over to anyone else.”

  “Not even the father?”

  He’d asked the question without even thinking, and Antonia answered it the same way.

  “Especially not the father.”

  It was the flash of fire in her eyes and the steel in her voice that made Clay realize there was far more to the story of Antonia’s pregnancy than she’d ever told him.

  “I know that I have no right to pry—”

  “Then don’t,” she said, but she sounded more wary than annoyed.

  He knew he should let it go, but he couldn’t. Because he couldn’t help wondering if the baby’s father was as oblivious to the impending arrival of his child as Clay had been.

 
; “You told me you went to a clinic.”

  She shook her head. “No, you said that you’d heard I went to a clinic, and I didn’t deny it.”

  “So it’s not true.”

  “It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not,” she said. “It’s nobody’s business but my own.”

  “And the baby’s father’s,” he pointed out.

  “Maybe I didn’t go to a clinic, but that doesn’t make the father of my child anything more than a sperm donor.”

  It was the hurt he could hear in her voice, beneath the anger and determination, that told him more than her words.

  “He didn’t want the baby,” he guessed.

  “When he found out I was pregnant, he didn’t want anything but to get as far away as possible,” she admitted.

  “I’m sorry, Antonia.”

  She shrugged. “That was his choice. Having this baby was mine.”

  “Have you heard from him since?”

  She shook her head. “I called him a couple of times, trying to keep the lines of communication open, but Gene made it very clear that he wasn’t interested.”

  “It doesn’t matter whether or not he’s interested,” Clay insisted. “You didn’t get pregnant by yourself and he has a legal obligation—”

  “I don’t want anything from him.”

  “You’re just going to let him off the hook?”

  She bristled at that. “I didn’t get pregnant to hook him.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he denied. “I only meant that he should be forced to take responsibility.”

  “My baby deserves better than a father who doesn’t want to be one.”

  Clay couldn’t argue with that. It was, in fact, almost a mirror of his own reasons for not following Delia to California. If she didn’t care enough about her own child to want to be a part of his life, then Bennett was better off without her.

  “You’re right,” he finally said. “If he wasn’t man enough to stick around and do the right thing, it’s his loss.”

  “This isn’t what I planned,” she confided. “Sure, I always dreamed of getting married and having children someday, but I never wanted to raise a child on my own. I thought that when I had a baby, I would also have a husband to share the worry and the decision-making, the joys and the responsibilities.”

  She dropped her head against his shoulder. “I really want my baby to have a daddy.” And then immediately pulled away again, her eyes wide. “Oh. No. I didn’t mean—not you.”

  Clay didn’t even have a chance to panic. In fact, Antonia backtracked so quickly and so adamantly, he couldn’t help but feel a little slighted. Not that he wanted to take on the responsibility of anyone else’s child—he had his hands full enough just taking care of Bennett. But she didn’t have to write him off so readily.

  “I mean, you’re a great dad to Bennett. But he’s your son. And my baby is my responsibility, and I will do everything I can to be a good parent. A good single parent. Because I’ve never needed a man in my life before and I’m not going to start looking for one now.”

  He frowned at that. “So you’re sharing my bed but I’m not in your life?”

  “I’m going to go before I put my other foot in my mouth.” She picked up the cradle, awkwardly tucking the bulky piece of furniture under one arm. “Thank you—for this. I will cherish it.”

  “Don’t go,” he said. “Not until we talk about this.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about, really.” Then she brushed a quick kiss on his lips. “But I’ll see you tonight, if you want.”

  He slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her again, longer and deeper.

  “Yeah, I want,” he admitted.

  And that, he knew, was his problem. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to stop wanting her.

  He had no reason to feel any sense of responsibility toward her or her baby. But the idea of Antonia being on her own—not by choice but because the bastard who got her pregnant had no honor or decency—stirred protective instincts he hadn’t realized he possessed.

  He hadn’t thought he was ready for one baby—at least not at this point in his life. But six months with Bennett had changed his opinion in that regard. Now he knew that there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his son. He also knew that if he stuck around after Antonia had her baby, it would be far too easy to fall in love with another child—and to fall in love with that child’s mother. That wasn’t a path he’d ever wanted to walk down before. For a man who had never taken life too seriously, the prospect of committing to one woman and settling down with a family was very serious business.

  But maybe it was time for Clay to give it some serious consideration.

  * * *

  Every night when Antonia went to Clay’s room, as she did that night, she wondered if it would be their last night together. And every night, he made her feel as if she was not just desired but cherished. And every morning when she left his bed, she left a little bit more of her heart behind.

  She should have known better than to get involved with him—to repeat the mistakes she’d made with Gene. But she’d been so certain that she knew what she was doing this time, that she could have a sexual relationship with a man without wanting or expecting anything more. And her brain was still on board with that plan—it was her heart that had betrayed her.

  Her heart—and her best friend. Since she couldn’t do anything about the weakness of the organ that pumped her blood, she took a drive into town to confront the traitorous Catherine instead.

  “I can’t believe you let him buy the cradle,” Antonia grumbled.

  “You told me to sell it,” Catherine noted, setting a cup of herbal tea on the oak farmhouse table in front of her friend.

  “But not to him,” she protested. “Not for my baby.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that did it.”

  The proprietor of Real Vintage Cowboy sat down on the other side of the table with her own cup. “Did what?”

  Antonia narrowed her gaze on her friend. “Made me fall in love with him.”

  At that, Catherine actually smiled. “Honey, you were a goner long before he ever handed me his credit card.”

  “I was not,” she denied.

  Although, if she was being perfectly honest, she would admit that she couldn’t be completely sure when or where it had happened. She only knew that, somewhere along the line, she had fallen in love with Clayton Traub.

  In retrospect, she realized that it had probably been inevitable. Because what woman’s heart could remain immune to a man who so obviously adored his son? What woman could remain unmoved by a man who wasn’t just thoughtful and considerate but who willingly helped out around the kitchen? What woman wouldn’t melt for a man who would sit through an undisputed chick flick in a public movie theater? What woman wouldn’t feel at least a flutter in her chest for a man who stood vigil in a stable so that a maiden mare didn’t have to bring her foal into the world all by herself? And what woman could remain indifferent to a man who bought a cradle for her unborn child?

  “In fact, I’ll bet you were halfway there before the box of Milk Duds was empty.”

  “I never should have told you about the Milk Duds,” Antonia grumbled.

  “But what I don’t understand,” Catherine admitted, “is why you’re so unhappy about this.”

  “Because I don’t want to have my heart broken again.”

  “The man who picked out that cradle is not planning to break your heart,” her friend assured her.

  “Of course he’s not planning it,” Antonia agreed. “He probably doesn’t even realize he could because I told him from the beginning that I wasn’t looking for any kind of commitment.”

  Catherine scowled. “You actually said that?”
r />   “At the time, I meant it.”

  “Obviously the situation has changed.”

  “Not for him,” Antonia said firmly.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because he made it very clear that, as far as babies go, he’s been there and done that.”

  “But—” Catherine looked genuinely baffled “—he bought you a cradle.”

  And how ironic was it that he could have chosen such a perfect gift for her baby when he had no interest in sticking around after she’d had that baby?

  Not that Antonia could blame him, especially when he had his own child to take care of. She just wished her baby’s father had demonstrated half as much interest in his own child as Clay had done.

  But truthfully, she knew that both she and her baby were better off without Gene. She certainly didn’t want to be with a man who didn’t want to be with her, and she’d rather her baby never knew his or her father than to know that he didn’t want him or her.

  “I think you’re wrong,” Catherine said now. “I think his feelings have probably changed, too, and in a few weeks—”

  “I can’t do this for another few weeks. I can’t do it for another few days,” Antonia told her. “I need to be realistic about my future—and it’s not with Clay.”

  Catherine just sighed. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’m going to be fine,” she said, and she would be. She’d been fine before Clay came along and she’d be just as fine when he was gone. Maybe her heart would ache a little, but she had some experience in that regard.

  Gene had wounded her pride as much as—or maybe even more than—her heart, but Antonia truly believed that time healed all wounds. It would take more time to heal when Clay was gone, because her feelings for him were so much stronger and deeper than anything she’d ever felt for Gene, but she was confident that she would heal.

  She didn’t blame Clay for any of this. Neither of them had made any promises, neither of them had wanted any. Or so she’d thought in the beginning. But being with Clay had made her want more—a husband, a father for her baby, a family—and she knew that he couldn’t give her what she wanted. And she wasn’t willing to settle for less—not anymore.