Rowdy sat on the floor beneath the tree, putting together a train track. His focus made her smile from her perch on the sofa, where she assembled festive bags of candy for her grandmother to gift to friends who stopped by.
For only a moment, Tiffany allowed herself the indulgence of imagining Rowdy and their son putting the train on its track together. It could be their annual thing—just the way when she was little, Big Daddy used to heft her high enough to put the angel on top of their tree.
“Hold your breath...” Rowdy flipped the on switch for the train’s engine. “The North Pole Express will soon be chugging down the track.”
Nothing happened.
Mr. Bojangles barked at the still train.
“Damn.” Rowdy’s little-boy expression of disappointment squeezed her heart. Her mind swirled with future possibilities for their son that would never come true. He opened the engine’s bottom panel. “Got any AAA batteries?”
“I’ll see...” The walk from the living room to the kitchen was a killer. Her lower back ached as if she’d spent her morning hauling hay bales as opposed to featherlight ornaments.
She returned with the batteries, then thankfully sank back onto the sofa cushions alongside her dog.
“All right.” After replacing the batteries, Rowdy flipped the engine’s switch. When it rhythmically chugged, he reattached it to the rest of the train. “Oh, yeah.” His broad smile eased her pain. “Santa’s gonna for sure visit your house. And when he does, you’ll have me to thank.” He winked before rising to join her and Mr. Bojangles. “This old house looks pretty damned good.”
“Hey—I helped.”
“Yes, you did. From the looks of your feet—too much.” He eyed her swollen ankles. “You should have stopped working four hours ago.”
“Probably, but then—” she lowered her voice, nodding to Pearl, who stood in the dining room, tears glistening in her eyes “—we wouldn’t have the pleasure of seeing my grandmother so happy.”
“But she’s crying,” he said.
“Trust me, those are the good kind of tears. Clearly, you haven’t been around enough women to know the difference.”
Their gazes caught and locked. For the longest time, she forgot to breathe. Was he on the verge of kissing her again? Did she want him to?
No.
Maybe?
Yes.
Their physical chemistry made their rocky emotional connection all the more confusing. Just because he’d given her a second fabulous night between the sheets didn’t mean squat. Not really. To marry him, to keep their son and make a family, they shouldn’t have had sex but made love.
“Need a glass of water?” Rowdy asked. “You’ve got that blotchy-and-red look again.”
“Thanks.” She grimaced. Just what every girl longed to hear.
“You two have made me so happy.” Pearl touched tree branches as if ensuring they were real. “The only thing that would make this Christmas brighter is if your father could be with us, but he’ll come home soon enough. In the meantime, we have your wedding and the baby to look forward to.”
“Grandma...” Tiffany forced a breath. “You know there’s not going to be a wedding. Jeb and Susie will be raising our baby. It’s for the best.” After her and Rowdy’s hot reunion, she’d thought the two of them as a couple—the three of them as a family—might actually make sense, but with the death of his friend, it seemed as if Rowdy’s mind was as set on the adoption plan as hers had once been.
Pearl waved off Tiffany’s comment. “Rowdy, I hate to trouble you after you’ve already put in such a long day, but could you please check the chickens’ heating lamp? I took them some scraps and it’s cold enough out there for my son’s lawyers to put their hands in their own pockets.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll get right on it.” To Tiffany he asked, “Need anything before I go? A cup of that herbal tea you like? A cookie or muffin?”
She shook her head.
Once he left, the lights on the tree seemed dimmer. The pine boughs didn’t smell nearly as fresh. What was wrong with her? He’d been gone literally one minute, yet she missed him. She wasn’t supposed to feel anything for him. But what if she did?
She pressed her hands to their baby. “Is it wrong for me to wish Rowdy had never come home?” Because if he hadn’t, she wouldn’t now be panic-stricken by the thought of him leaving again.
* * *
“I WAS BEGINNING to wonder when we’d next see the whites of your eyes.” James sat astride his favorite paint, Charlie.
“Sorry.” Rowdy rode Lucky on their way out to the southeast pasture, where a momma and her new calf needed checking. With a herd as big as theirs, it never failed that at least once during a winter storm, something would go wrong. “For the past few days, Tiffany’s been complaining of her back hurting, so I’ve been taking care of her while doing odd jobs for her kooky mom and grandma.”
“Those two are quite a pair,” his dad chuckled. “Good folks, though. At the last church charity auction, Gigi brought in some fancy brand of shoes. The womenfolk damn near gave themselves aneurysms trying to outbid each other. Boy, was I relieved your mom didn’t win.”
Rowdy laughed, tipping the brim of his cowboy hat lower to cut the wind’s icy licks at his cheeks.
For as far as he could see, the world was white.
The sky kissed the ground in an angry slash of gunmetal gray, promising more snow by morning. The very air smelled cold and forlorn. The horses exhaled deeply as they struggled through the snow.
“Your brother tells me you decided to go along with the adoption?”
“I s’pose.”
“You’re a grown man, so I guess it’s none of my business, but for the record, this news didn’t sit well.”
Rowdy clamped his lips tight.
“You’re breaking your momma’s heart.”
“What do you want me to say, Dad? I just had a close friend die while clenching my hand. Know what the last thing he said was? He asked me to tell his wife and kids how much he loved them. Carl accused me of being selfish for giving my kid up for adoption. But you know what I think is even more selfish? Willingly bringing not just one child into this world but multiples, knowing the whole while that at any given time, you could be shot down and leave not just them but their mom. To me, that’s unconscionable.”
“Are you honestly that dense?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you think you and your hotshot SEAL buddies own the patent on dying? Hell, son, I’ve had more than a few close calls in my day. For that matter, so has your mom—namely, while giving birth to you. In the end, all any of us are guaranteed is the here and now. Which means you need to embrace life by the cojones and live every day as if it may be your last. I’m sorry your friend died, but do you think his wife or children regret having had him in their lives?”
For the rest of the ride, Rowdy remained silent.
Cold air seared his lungs.
It crept into his bones until every inch of his body ached.
By the time they’d returned to the barn, cared for the horses and headed for the house, light snow was already falling.
“Weatherman says this one’s going to be a real dandy,” his father said.
Rowdy merely grunted.
“Izzy and Ingrid have their school Christmas show tonight. Hope the storm holds off till they get done singing.”
“I should probably go check on Tiffany.”
“Why don’t you bring her? You’ve been around the house so little your nieces aren’t going to recognize you.”
“I’m sure Carl and Justine wouldn’t want us ruining the girls’ big night.”
“Nonsense.” His dad patted his back. “Get washed up, then go grab your girl. Show starts at seven, but the gym gets awfully cr
owded, so you shouldn’t be late.”
* * *
“THIS ISN’T A good idea,” Tiffany said once they’d made it down Pearl’s front walk, which Rowdy had just shoveled.
Snow tumbled like clumps of white cotton candy.
The neighbors’ Christmas lights lent the street a magical glow.
He pretty much lifted her onto the passenger seat of his truck, and the close contact made her treacherous body hum. Even worse, the baby kicked her ribs. The pain ricocheted through her, making her back hurt all the more. But then his stupid-handsome face was within kissing range and she forgot everything except how good it had felt when the two of them had finally come together. Desperate to think of anything but being with him again, she asked, “What if your mom and sister-in-law hate me?”
“Why would you care? Once you have the baby, aside from running into them at the grocery store, odds are that you won’t see them again.”
“Nice...” She shivered as he climbed in beside her.
“The only reason I’m even bringing you is because my dad gave me a guilt trip.”
A wall formed at the back of her throat.
Was he deliberately trying to hurt her? Losing his friend had changed him. He’d lost his playful edge.
“I know that pouty look.” He started the engine. Let it idle until warm air spilled from the heater vents. “Apparently, Mom wants to meet you—not that it will make a difference in how either of us feels, right? I mean, we’re both still full speed ahead with the adoption?”
Darting her gaze away from him and out the fogging window, she nodded.
“Tonight is all about getting our point across. We need to make my family understand why we’ve decided on this mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“What are you afraid of, Rowdy? And don’t give me that line about you losing your friend. I understand that was rough on you, but what else changed?”
“Excuse me?” He pulled his truck into the already snow-packed street.
“Remember when you first blew back into town like a bull charging a rodeo clown? How you demanded to have custody of your son, and how you refused to even think about adoption?”
“Sure. But clearly, I was wrong.” He’d reached the stop sign at the end of the street. “Doesn’t that make you happy?”
No.
The house on the corner had a giant inflatable Santa all lit up and waving in the gusty wind. The cheery sight made Tiffany sadder. Hugging her baby—their baby—she wished she knew when all of this had gone so horribly wrong. Before Rowdy came back to town, she’d been sure about the adoption, too. Now?
Nothing made sense. Especially not how much she’d grown to depend upon Rowdy for everything, from getting her tea and cookies to helping her in and out of cars. Just like every other man in her life, he’d soon be leaving. She had to not only accept that fact but make peace with it.
Besides, what she felt for Rowdy was purely physical. She didn’t especially care for his stupid-handsome grin or the way his hair usually stuck out at crazy angles or how his Wranglers fit just right. She sure wasn’t attracted to his goofy jokes or the way he was always accommodating and kind with her mom, grandmother and even Mr. Bojangles.
Considering all of those points, why did she care if he’d soon be leaving?
Good question.
One for which her aching heart had no answer.
Chapter Fourteen
What are you afraid of?
Through the entire awful holiday show, which included dancing candy canes, an evil elf and a pint-size Santa stuffed with so much padding that the poor kid could hardly walk, Rowdy pondered Tiffany’s question.
He tried blaming his dour mood on the gymnasium’s sweltering heat. Or how the lady in the seat next to him had been far too generous with her sticky-sweet perfume. He even hated the way his mom and Justine instantly sat Tiffany between them, coddling her like she was a rare and precious jewel.
Why did he resent them treating her like she was something special?
Because she was.
Only he was too big of a coward to step up and admit it. Damn right he was afraid. Not just of being a screwup as a dad, or dying, but of being equally as bad at this whole relationship thing he and Tiffany kept dancing around.
Stepping up?
Doing the so-called right thing by her and his child?
That would mean giving up the only way of life he knew. Sure, he could marry and still be a SEAL. Guys did it all the time. And they didn’t die. But like his mom had long ago pointed out, a whole lot of them ended up divorced. Most had kids who lived full-time with their mothers. They saw them only on weekends or holidays—not nearly enough to make a real difference in their lives.
When the show finally ended and the entire family moved to the cafeteria for cake and punch and cookies, Rowdy stayed on the fringe, watching how naturally Tiffany interacted with his nieces. She wore one of the outfits he’d bought for her in Bismarck—a green sweater with the matching glitter shoes. The color made her eyes spark. He wanted her with a visceral pull. He wanted her away from all of these people to selfishly keep her to himself. But how did that desire fit in with his equally strong need to get out of Dodge?
Blaring Christmas carols combined with kids hyped up on sugar made his head scream for peace and quiet.
“She’s pretty special,” Justine said with a nudge to his arm. “Don’t you dare think of letting her and your baby go.”
“Mind your own business,” he said in a gruff tone.
“Unfortunately, once I married your brother, that made you family, which makes you—and now Tiffany—very much my business. Not only is she gorgeous, but she’s educated and funny and sweet. A real keeper.”
He growled.
Rowdy escaped his sister-in-law to help himself to the syrupy-sweet punch. He would have gotten some for Tiffany, but his dad had already beaten him to it.
His mom caught up with him just as he filled a red Solo cup. “Don’t think it hasn’t escaped my notice that you’re avoiding me.”
“Mom...” He sighed.
“Tiffany’s a lovely girl. She’ll make a wonderful addition to our family.”
Yeah, too bad it’s not gonna happen.
“At first, when Tiffany’s mother approached me about a holiday wedding, I thought we might be jumping the gun, but now I think—”
“Drop it.” The instant his gruff command sprang tears to his kindhearted mother’s eyes, he regretted it. He reached out to hug her, but after a look of disgust, she spun on her heels and was gone.
What are you afraid of?
Tiffany’s question raised its ugly head.
Hell, maybe he was afraid of everything? Not just of dying but of truly living.
Any time he’d taken a stab at even a brief relationship, it had ended in disaster. Why should this time be different?
Because Tiffany’s different. Better. She makes you better.
He felt her gravitational pull as if she were the sun and he a lowly planet. A glance up had their gazes locked. When she shyly smiled and waved, resting her free hand on their baby, his chest tightened.
Despite the hundreds of people milling about the room, he had eyes only for her. What did that mean?
He raked his fingers through his hair, forcing himself to look away first. Out of all the missions he’d been on, Tiffany Lawson was by far the most dangerous.
If he allowed himself to fall for her, he feared losing the only life he’d ever known.
* * *
“PROMISE YOU’LL COME Saturday to help Justine and me make cranberry bread? Bring your mom and Pearl, too.”
Tiffany nodded, then stepped into Rowdy’s mother’s latest hug. Had there ever been a sweeter, gentler woman? No. Which begged the quest
ion, how in the world had she created such a glowering son?
“It was great finally meeting you,” Justine said. “We were beginning to think you were Rowdy’s imaginary friend.”
Tiffany laughed.
Isobel and Ingrid, still wearing their matching icicle costumes, danced around their mom.
“Miss Tiffany?” asked Isobel, the oldest girl, who sported longer strawberry blond hair and a constellation of adorable freckles.
“Yes?” Tiffany said.
“When my mom had Ingrid inside her, she said it was because Daddy gave her too much watermelon and she swallowed a seed and it growed inside her. Did Uncle Rowdy give you too much watermelon?”
Tiffany’s cheeks superheated. “Something like that.”
Justine covered her inquisitive daughter’s ears. “Sorry. Seemed like the most reasonable explanation at the time.”
“I understand,” Tiffany said with a smile. What she didn’t understand was why she hadn’t met Rowdy’s awesome family sooner. Was he ashamed of her? Those first days when he’d roared into town, he’d practically forced her to see his mom and try one of her homemade cinnamon rolls. But then he’d dropped the whole matter the way he had the idea of keeping their baby.
After more laughter and hugs and plenty of opportunities for Tiffany to see firsthand what amazing people had raised her baby’s father, she grew all the more confused. Right now—through the baby she carried inside her—she shared a connection with these lovely people. They had to know about her plans for adoption, but there hadn’t been any pressure from James or Patsy to keep their grandchild in the family.
Did they not care whether she and Rowdy kept the baby? Or did they care so much that they trusted them to make the right decision—whatever that might be?
After paying a dollar to retrieve her coat, hat and gloves from the Scouts, who’d made a fund-raiser out of their coat-check services, Rowdy led her outside.
The snow had stopped looking pretty and was now wind-driven pellets that stung when they hit her exposed cheeks.
“Get back inside,” Rowdy said. “I’ll go get the truck.”
She usually would have argued, but in the past hour, the pain in her lower back had amped up to an alarming degree. Assuming it was from standing too long while chatting with Rowdy’s family, she’d put the pain from her mind to enjoy the evening, but now the sharp stabs were growing harder to ignore.
The Cowboy SEAL's Jingle Bell Baby Page 15
