*
She stumbled out of the bedroom, willing him to stop her and beg her to stay but he didn’t. Playing tough to protect her already fragile heart was hard but Layla figured it was going to be easier in the long run. Having him profess a love he didn’t feel for her now, and watching as that emotion drained day after day as they tried to make a go of the situation they’d found themselves in wasn’t a path she wanted to take.
Not again. One relationship that didn’t work for almost the same reasons was enough for her in this lifetime. She’d considered Samar to be the love of her life. Their final year of law school had thrown them together. Their different cultures didn’t matter to the two young lovers, nor did the fact his family were of importance in their hometown. Her family was wealthy if not as important as Samar’s. Besides Layla and Samar were very much in love and they brushed off the negatives of their relationship. Until he’d wanted to marry her and told his family of his plans to propose.
Layla had been gutted when he left, citing their differences in ways that he’d professed hadn’t mattered before. Now they had broken her heart. She made a solemn promise to herself to be the person making the decisions for her future.
Until she’d met Tyson. He triggered something in her that she couldn’t explain. A gentleness that reminded her of who she used to be before she hardened her heart to the world. But the old nagging of her earlier decision overrode the desire he sparked in her once she’d flown home.
Far better to do this now than down the track when she’d become used to having Tyson around. Before she became used to loving him and his touch on her skin, the sensations he caused to ripple over her body and make her feel alive.
She paused, her hand on the door of the truck and took a final look around. She had almost convinced herself she could have been happy here, if there was love between them, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Together they could have worked to make the ranch profitable. She’d lain against his chest and listened to his voice as he’d described what he wanted to do when he had the money. Horses were his love and the wilderness in which he looked so much the part it made her heart ache. This cowboy would never fit into her way of life, not here nor in the city. He was too rugged and in touch with the land he lived on to want to be with her.
The only Watson boy not to leave town when he was old enough, Tyson had stayed close to his father and learned the hard way how to look after himself. He could take off into the mountains for a week and come out the other side happy and refreshed, whereas, if she took him to the city, he would wilt and fade. She couldn’t do that to him, change him to suit her lifestyle. And she didn’t know if she had it in her to change as much as he would need her to so she fitted in.
Layla had chosen her future well, or so she told herself. This child would want for nothing. Surrounded by an extended family, it would grow up with the best of both worlds, its father’s outdoor life and her more genteel, privileged upbringing.
She opened the truck door and slid behind the wheel, glancing at the house to see if she could get one more glimpse of the man she loved but couldn’t have. The drive up the hill to Chance and Callie’s almost broke her heart all over again. It felt as though she was saying goodbye to what might have been. A silly notion Layla put down to pregnancy hormones.
Callie stood on the porch with a mug of coffee in her hand when Layla drove up. Her cattle dog, Sherbet, hurried over and sniffed around Layla’s feet.
“Sherbet, that’s enough.” Callie watched her. Layla would have to talk about what happened.
It was part of the deal being friends with the Watson women, something Layla didn’t really mind. It was comforting to have the shoulder to cry on and the advice that followed.
“You’re not looking too good. Need a coffee or a good cry? I have a spare shoulder right now.”
“I think I’m going to need both.” Her eyes misted with tears as she stepped up onto the porch.
Callie put down her mug and opened her arms, wrapping them around Layla, hugging tight as she leaned on her friend and let the tears flow. It was all she could do to hold onto Callie and not rush down the hill to Tyson and tell him she was sorry, she’d made a mistake, and they needed to bring up this child together.
The hand rubbing her back slowed and Callie shifted. “You okay now?” She peered into Layla’s eyes and the concern on her face was the thing that made Layla hold her ground.
She had all the support here if she needed it and she was sure whatever decisions she made in the future, Callie would have her back.
“Yeah, thanks.” She took a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes before giving her nose a good blow. It felt better to get the tears out of her system so she could focus on the future and the things she had to do right now. “I really needed that.”
“Are you sure you’re doing the right thing here? I mean, what if Tyson wants to be with you and raise this baby, don’t you think he deserves that chance?”
Layla picked up her now cold coffee and tasted it, grimacing before tossing the distasteful liquid onto the grass. Once her favorite drink, an aversion to the taste was growing.
“I’ve thought it through. It’s all I did when I found out. We’re too different to make this work, Callie. It sounds like I’m being a snob but I don’t mean to be. I’ve been burned before. We want different things and have different goals. Tyson’s are firmly set and I get that.” She looked down in the direction of his ranch. “It might have worked for a while and that would be great but I don’t think I could go through the heartache down the road when the passion fades. Not with a child between us, that’s so unfair.”
“Didn’t he even try to stop you?”
Pain shot through her heart and she winced. “No.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I know how much you’re hurting.”
“I’m not the first woman to find herself pregnant and alone. Certainly won’t be the last.” She took a deep breath of the cool mountain air, taking the time to settle her wildly beating heart. She could still do this. Layla was nothing if not dedicated and once she made up her mind, she followed through. “Guess I’d better find out what’s happening with the offer I made on the business. I have a life to get sorted out before this little one makes an appearance.”
Chapter Seven
It took two months for Layla to settle on the business and sell her apartment in Denver, pack up her life and make the move to Marietta. In that time, she had several responses to Tyson’s advert. Only two she deemed feasible and passed them on to Tyson via Chance and heard no more about them.
Callie, Chance, and Gina kept in touch with her regularly and she felt as though she was moving home when she drove up the main street one sunny afternoon. She headed straight to her new office and parked out front. The name had been changed on the glass window and the overhead hanger and it made her smile to see ‘Cox Family Law Firm’ there. Gave her a sense of place she badly needed.
She climbed out of her car and stood rubbing her back. The drive had been long and she’d broken it up by staying in a motel along the way. Now five and a half months pregnant, she got tired easily and it was uncomfortable with such a long time spent in the car. Chance had suggested she ship her vehicle and fly but Layla had wanted the time to get her head together. The drive was her way of doing that.
She pushed the door open and walked in. Her secretary, Emily Forsythe was on the telephone, busily writing notes as she spoke.
“Yes, that’s right. Ms. Cox is taking appointments starting tomorrow. Yep, she sure is sharp, you mark my works. Just moved here from Denver.” She paused for breath. “Ten o’clock? Righto then, Rupert. We’ll see you then. Bye now.” She hung up the phone and made a note in her calendar before looking up.
“Well, well. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” She bustled around the desk and took a bemused Layla by the arm. “Look worn out, you do. Come and have a seat and I’ll get you a cup of tea.” Once Layla was sitting down, Emily patted L
ayla’s arm and smiled. “You need to take care of yourself little lady. I’m not going to let you overdo things around here either. Promised Chance I’d keep an eye on you and I will. Now relax while I put the kettle on.” She hurried off to the little kitchenette and Layla could hear her fussing around with cups and a tray. A few moments passed before she came back out, carrying a tray with cups and a plate of homemade biscuits.
“It’s good to see you, Ms. Cox. Been keeping an eye out all day for you. Bet you’re glad you finally made it. You must be exhausted with that big drive.”
“Call me Layla, please. It was a long drive and I’m rather tired but very pleased to be here finally. Feels as though this has taken forever to sort out.” She took the china cup and sipped the hot tea, letting it slide pleasantly down her throat. “Oh, that is perfect. I needed this.”
“My cure-all for just about everything.” Emily pushed her glasses up her nose and smiled. “Got you a few appointments already. As you heard when you came in, one of our locals, Rupert Hanson is coming in tomorrow to sort out his will. Those grandsons of his are causing him no end of trouble. Nothing a good whipping and some hard work wouldn’t sort out, if you ask me.” She shook her head. “You’ll probably get to know them sooner or later. They’re always in trouble, and you’ll probably get called upon to haul them out of jail more often than you’d like. Seems they end up in there regular as clockwork much to Rory’s annoyance.”
“Sounds like fun times.” She leaned her head back against the wall and looked around the waiting room. It was peaceful, sitting in here amongst the pale green decor and the potted plants. A box of children’s toys sat in a corner beside a tiny table and chairs with scrap paper for drawing to keep them entertained. Comfy chairs and a coffee table were positioned on the other side of the waiting room which was where she sat now, recovering from her long drive.
“The movers finished yesterday and Gina and Callie brought the keys back this afternoon after they finished fussing around, ‘sorting out the basics’ they said so you could at least sleep in your own bed tonight. They said to call if you needed anything.”
“They’re very kind.” All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and close her eyes.
“And Gina made you a meal or two from what I can gather. She said look in the fridge when you get there.” Emily smiled over her glasses. “Your telephone is on as well and I’ve arranged for a man to mow your lawns. Jock put his hand up and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“Jock Watson?” That felt weird. The grandfather of her unborn child mowing her lawns.
“Yes. I wasn’t sure how you would feel about that and since I don’t really know you that well, figured it wasn’t my place to get uppity over it.”
“That’s fine. I’ll speak to him. Thank you.” Layla finished her tea and placed the cup on the tray, helping herself to a biscuit. She crunched it hungrily, wondering how long ago it was she ate. “These are good, Mrs. Forsythe.” She took another one and sat back eating contentedly.
“That’s enough of the Mrs. Name’s Emily and, since you and I are going to be working together, it’s only right you call me that. Now let me get you another cup of tea, looks like you need to replenish the batteries.” Emily hurried to the kitchen and came back with a fresh cup, placing it in front of Layla.
“I can’t believe how hungry and thirsty I am.” Layla rubbed her hand over the growing baby bump.
“From what I remember, pregnancy does that to you. Now don’t go overdoing things around here or you’ll get me shot. I made a promise I’d take care of you in the office and I will unless you say otherwise.”
“I appreciate the concern, really I do. And these cookies, if you keep feeding me these, I’m going to have problems later on losing the weight.”
“I hardly think so. You’re as thin as anything apart from the baby bump.”
Layla spent a relaxing half hour drinking tea and nibbling on biscuits before she decided it was time to head for her new home. The small cottage close-by had been leased for twelve months and she was keen to see how it looked with her own furniture inside. She stood up and gathered her car keys.
“Tomorrow I’ll be in around eight. Thanks for looking after things for me, Emily, very much appreciated.”
“It’s what I’m here for. Sleep well and I’ll see you bright and early in the morning.”
As Layla drove toward her cottage, she wondered if Tyson was dealing with this any better than she was. Many a night since she’d made her decision, she’d rolled over, imagining he was there, his face taunting her in her dream state. Not once since he’d found out about the baby had he tried to contact her to convince her to change her mind. That hurt more than anything. He was probably busy wooing his new bride to be.
Callie hadn’t said much about him either no doubt being careful not to mention his name and business so as not to upset the expectant mother. He was keeping to himself, working hard with his broncos and setting up trail rides was all she’d heard. Sounded like he’d moved on.
*
Jock drove up and parked near the barn and Tyson sighed. If this was another lecture, he didn’t need it. His father got out of his station wagon and walked to the back, lifting up the back door. He reached in and pulled out a western saddle, old but sturdy.
“What’s that for?” Tyson met him across the driveway and took it from his father’s arms. He walked over to the barn and threw it over the post and rail fence.
“What do you think it’s for? There’s another two in in the car for you.” Jock turned and walked back dragging out another one. He handed it to his son and reached for the last one. A bag of bridles lay on the front seat of the car and he reached in for them as well. Once he offloaded the saddle, he pulled out bridles, laying them over the fence so Tyson could see what he’d brought.
“Thought you could use them since you want to get your trail riding up and going. Can’t go far with what you’ve got.”
Tyson picked up a bridle and ran his hands over it. Old but in good condition. “Where did these come from?”
“Don’t really matter. He was selling them cheap and you needed them.” His father nodded his head as if it was that simple.
“How much did you pay?” He was going to have to find the money somewhere to pay him back.
“Not telling. Don’t go looking a gift horse in the mouth, son. My contribution to you.”
“Pa, you don’t have to do this. I’ll manage somehow.” His plans for the ranch would all come together eventually.
Raising his bucking broncos had started to pay off. They were selling well to the rodeo circuit and he had kept the best mares for breeding. After selling on the already broken in horses to Rory earlier in the year, Tyson had stopped to think. If he branched out and kept the calmest of the horses, he could hire them out as trail riders.
Every auction he went to pick up broncos seemed to have sturdy horses ready for the glue factory that nobody wanted, going for a song. It was a crying shame because there was nothing wrong with them, they’d just lost their usefulness to their current owner or had a bit of age on them. With a little love and feed, they would turn out to be reliable horses and it wasn’t as though he didn’t have the room to set up trails.
The idea to have a trail ranch had come slowly but surely into being. His love of horses was well known and his animals were always looked after. He had the space and the time to make sure the trails were clear and his ranch had the scenery that pulled in riders like bees to honey.
There was nobody who knew the mountains like Tyson did. During the years of family breakdown and discord, his go to place had always been the mountains. Trekking and hiking with his school group, his friends, and anyone he could latch on to, had been what kept him sane. It hadn’t taken long for it to be what drove him, pushed him to know more. His love of the outdoors had given him a sense of purpose, a goal to learn as much as he could with the dream that one day he would own his own piece of Copper Mountain.
It made sense to broaden that side of the business. The only thing holding him back had been the lack of money. But slowly it was all coming together and having his family pick up the odd bargains like Pa today made it all so much easier.
“Thanks, Pa. You did good.” He patted his father on the back.
“Layla arrived in town the other day. Moved into the little cottage around the road from me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So, aren’t you going to go over and see how she is? Getting quite a decent belly on her from all accounts.”
“She made it perfectly clear what she thinks of me. You know that so stop pushing it.” He picked up a saddle and walked into the tack room with it, dumping it on one of the empty racks. When was his father going to give up? Layla didn’t want him.
“Seems to be making a name for herself in town already. Rupert reckons she has a mind like a steel trap. Went in and changed his will so those no good grandsons of his don’t squander the ranch when he dies.”
“Good for him.”
“Don’t think the boys took it too well either. But you know them, hotheads the lot of them. Not like my boys.” He shook his head. “No sir, never had no reason to worry about you boys turning out right. Not even with me being the worst father out there.”
Tyson shook his head and gazed at the man who’d raised him. “Pa, you weren’t the worst father. You had issues but I knew you still loved us.” It had been hard growing up but they’d all survived and now his father was on the wagon, things had gotten better for all of them.
“Thing is, Tyson, I don’t want you to go down the same path. Regardless of how you two feel about each other, you need to get on for this baby. Don’t be hiding out here on the ranch like having a family don’t mean nothing to you.”
Her Favorite Cowboy (The Watson Brothers #4) Page 5
