A ragged sigh left his lungs. “Did you know Jordan’s never, not once, even bothered to check up on him, ask how he’s doing?”
“Never?”
“Nope.”
“And you had no idea this was coming? Her walking out, I mean.”
“I knew she wasn’t exactly happy, that she felt like we were in limbo. Or she was, anyway. Not really together,” he said, cupping the back of his neck as he sat forward again, “but forced to deal with each other because of the kid.”
The dog, clearly annoyed at Josh’s constant shifting, abandoned him for Deanna, wagging his tail as he laid his chin on her knee and gave her the most pitiful brown eyes in the history of dogdom.
Josh watched the beast for a moment, then said, “Still. I thought the arrangement was working as well as it could. And sure as hell I would’ve thought her own son might’ve been worth more to her than a mumbled Sorry, I can’t do this anymore, when she dropped him off that last time.” His gaze met Deanna’s as she stroked Thor’s head. “So when you told me about your baby’s daddy...swear to God, if he’d been standing there? I would’ve punched his lights out.” At her laugh, a smile tugged at his mouth. “Okay, maybe not. But I sure as hell would’ve told him off.”
“I would’ve paid good money to see that,” she said, and he snorted. From down the hall, they heard Austin laughing at something. Josh frowned.
“Is it weird, how much he likes to play by himself? I swear he’ll go in there and I won’t hear from him for hours. Seems like it, anyway.”
“It’s an only child thing,” Deanna said quietly, rubbing her tummy. “We’re good at entertaining ourselves. We also need alone time, to recharge.”
“I guess.” He didn’t sound convinced. Deanna smiled.
“You didn’t lock him in there, for goodness’ sake. When he wants you, he’ll come out, right?”
“True.”
“So...the thing between you and Austin’s mother...it wasn’t serious, then?” Josh’s puzzled gaze swung to hers, and she shrugged. “Just wondered.”
He pushed a sigh through his nose. “What it was, was a mistake. Plain and simple.” A half smile played around his mouth. “But I expect you know how that goes.”
“Lord, yes,” she sighed out, and the smile stretched a little...followed by one of those no-big-deal guy shrugs that means anything but.
“Not exactly how I’d planned on becoming a father, though. Especially at twenty-four. And my folks...” He sagged back into the couch’s cushions, his hands linked behind his head. “Oh, they rallied, of course they did. For Austin’s sake. But I know they weren’t happy. Dad, especially.”
“And maybe you’re being too hard on yourself. Or them—”
“Dad literally didn’t speak to me for a week after I told them.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Although at least I did tell them,” he said, nodding toward her belly.
Guess he had her there. The dog jumped onto her lap, even though there was no room—
“Thor!” Josh snapped his fingers, pointing to the floor. “Down.”
“No, it’s okay,” Deanna said, laughing, as the dog shoved his hindquarters in her face, clumsily trying to find purchase until they figured it out: dog butt wedged between her hip and the chair’s arm, dog front draped across her knees, baby belly shoved against dog head. Whatever worked.
“I’m not sure which of you is crazier,” Josh said, shaking his head. But at least he was smiling. Sort of. “What about you? Was it serious between you and what’s-his-name?”
“Phillippe. And it was on my end. Obviously. Although obviously not on his.”
“And let me guess—you’re beating yourself up over not being able to spot his douchebaggery.”
“Pretty much, yep. I assume you’ve dated since then?” she said, desperate to shove the conversation back into his court.
His eyes narrowed—nice to see his BS meter was still in good working order—before his mouth turned down at the corners. “I’m a single dad who works twelve hours a day most days. When would I do that?”
“Oh, and like you couldn’t find a babysitter. Please. That’s an excuse, Josh. And you know it.”
That got several seconds of hard staring before he said, “Maybe. But if nothing else, the whole thing—with Austin, with his mother—woke me up. Because life sure as hell got real, didn’t it? What I was doing before—and believe me, I’m not proud of it—wasn’t going to work anymore. It wasn’t right. Especially now that there’s this little person who one day is gonna be a big person who’s gonna need to look up to his dad. Only thing is, I’m still not sure what is right. Or at least, how to go about making right happen.”
“I know what you mean,” she said with a tight smile. “Oh, boy, do I know what you mean.”
“Is this the beginning of a whole ‘men are scum’ tirade?”
Scratching the space between the dog’s shoulders, she smiled. “No. Not really. Although I guess Phillippe was. Is. God, I feel so bad for his wife. Since I doubt I was his first...dalliance. And I seriously doubt I’ll be his last. Although who knows?” She frowned down at the now softly snoring dog. “Maybe they have an ‘understanding’—”
“Daddy! Look what I made!”
Austin thundered into the room—the dog didn’t even twitch—holding out a plastic block masterpiece that was rather...impressionistic. Josh hauled the child onto his lap, suitably—and seriously—admiring the creation. “That is so cool, dude. Can you tell me about it?”
With that, the child launched into a rapid-fire description of what was apparently a robot-weapon-vehicle hybrid, then snatched it from his father’s hands to demonstrate its many amazing features. A second later Austin turned, holding it out to Deanna with that adorable baby-toothed grin.
“It’s for you.”
Deanna’s heart stuttered. “Me?”
The child shook his head so hard his waves wobbled. “Uh-huh. ’Cause you brought me food.”
“Jeez, the woman’ll think I never feed you,” Josh muttered, and a laugh bubbled up inside Deanna’s chest. Especially as Austin’s face turned into one big frown as he tried to process this information. Then he brightened.
“Good food.”
The laugh exploded, startling the poor dog awake and off her lap. Still chuckling, Deanna held out her arms so the boy could take the dog’s place. She shifted him on what was left of her lap, admiring her gift. And thinking how this would be her with her own child soon. So soon. “Thank you, sweetie,” she pushed past what felt like a rock in her chest. “I love it.”
“Really?”
“Really truly cross-my-heart.”
“Okay, good. Hey—maybe the baby c’n play with it, after she’s borned.”
“Well, maybe not right after—she’ll be too little. But later, absolutely.” Deanna tugged Austin to her and planted a kiss in his curls. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”
“Excellent,” he said, then wriggled off her lap and scampered back to his room. Deanna watched him zoom down the hall, then shoved one hand into the chair’s arm to push herself to her feet, carefully holding the Duplo creation with her other. Josh rose as well.
“You don’t have to keep that if you don’t want—”
“Are you kidding?” she said, clutching the blocks to her bosom. “When a four-year-old gives you a present, you treasure it forever. Jeez...what rock were you born under?”
And the grin that slowly, steadily, spread across Josh’s cheeks nearly did her in.
“You need me to walk you back?”
“I think I know the way. Besides which that would mean either leaving Austin here alone or dragging him with you, neither of which I’m about to let happen. But thanks. Good to know chivalry isn’t completely dead.”
There went that darkening thing in his eyes again. “I’ve always known how to treat a lady. It’s how to have an actual relationship with one I seem to be a little sketchy on.”
“And maybe that would depend on the lady?”
“You might have a point at that.” He slid his fingers into his front pockets. “I know the reason you’re home really sucks. But it’s good to have you back, Dee. Even if only for a little while.”
“Thanks,” she said, then hauled her double-wide butt out of there before he could see the ambivalence in her eyes. Because while he was right, the reason she was back sucked, being back didn’t. At least not nearly as much as she might’ve figured it would. Except...that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
Since what would suck, would be getting sucked into something neither she nor Josh wanted or needed or could even remotely deal with right now.
Or ever, actually.
Chapter Six
“So how do you want to do this?” Billie said, re-draping her stethoscope around her neck before hoisting Deanna back up to a sitting position on the exam table. “Home, hospital—which means a trek into Taos—or here at the center?”
Tugging down her getting-tighter-by-the-second top over her enormous middle, Deanna screwed up her face. “You’re not going to yell at me about my blood pressure?”
“Since yelling at you, as you put it, would hardly reduce your stress...no. And in any case, being as it’s not insanely high, I’m not worried. So. Decision time, sweetie. What’s it gonna be?”
Dee smiled. She’d toured the facility, which easily rivaled the one in DC she’d planned on using. “I guess...here.”
“Good,” the midwife said, then helped Deanna down before sitting at her desk to add notes to Deanna’s chart. Lowering her prodigious form onto the molded plastic chair beside Billie’s desk, she caught the poster on the opposite wall, illustrating—in great detail—the birth process. At least the baby looked happy enough.
“Aside from that slightly elevated BP,” Billie was saying, “everything else looks fine, no obvious risk factors, baby’s in perfect position. And you’ll be at thirty-seven weeks right before Thanksgiving.” She looked up, her brown eyes twinkling behind her glasses, the lenses reflecting a dozen colors from her brightly patterned cardigan. “So you’re good to go.”
At Deanna’s nervous laugh, Billie smiled.
“You scared?”
“Of giving birth? Not really.” A flat-out lie, but whatever. “Of knowing what to do after? I’ve never even held a newborn before, let alone taken care of one. What if I screw up?”
“Oh, you can count on it. The good news is, the baby won’t notice. Or care.”
“Greaaat.”
The midwife’s eyes softened. “You having second thoughts? About keeping her?”
“Billie! Ohmigod, no! Of course I’m keeping her! Okay, so maybe doing this on my own hadn’t been part of my game plan. And I have no illusions about how hard it’s going to be. But...” Her eyes filled. “But I already love her.”
“Then wait until you meet her,” Billie said gently. “And once you do? That intuition will kick in harder than you have any idea. Of course you’ll make mistakes. Sometimes even insanely stupid ones. Like the time I was so sleep deprived with the twins I forgot to strap Josh into his baby seat and he squirmed right out of it onto the floor. I bawled for a solid hour, convinced the Baby Police were going to come take my children away. He survived, I survived, and so will you. And as long as you’re here, you’ll have all the support you need. I promise.”
Words that arrowed Deanna right between the eyes. Because who would’ve helped her in DC? Heaven knew not her aunt. And Emily was even more clueless than Deanna—
“Josh said at least the house is all done?”
“Um...yes,” Deanna said on a released breath. “As of a couple of days ago.” And Josh had been as good as his word, patching and painting walls and whatnot while Deanna kept Austin amused, mostly watching the baby’s in utero interpretive dance routine. Man, what she wouldn’t give to bottle those little boy belly laughs.
Not to mention the image of a paint-speckled, soft-eyed Josh, chuckling at his laughing son.
“And how’s the nursery coming along?”
Nursery. A way too permanent-sounding word for a room she didn’t dare let herself think of as her baby’s. Then again, how permanent was anything in her life, really?
“Josh set up Austin’s old crib the other day. So at least I have some place to put Katie after she’s...out.”
“Katie?”
“Or Kate, maybe. Whichever seems to fit.”
“Your mama’s name. That’s lovely. Your dad would be so touched.”
Deanna’s thoughts, exactly. Except wasn’t it ridiculous that she was still trying to please him, even though he wasn’t around to appreciate it?
Josh’s mom handed her the chart, then clasped her hands together on the corner of the desk. “So the shower is coming up...”
“Listen, about that...” Because there was support, and there was suffocating. A thin line Deanna worried was about to be crossed. Even though she’d been speechless for several seconds after Billie told her. “Seems like a lot of trouble to go to for someone who’s not sticking around.”
“And clearly you’ve forgotten what it means to live in a small town,” Billie said, complete with the sharp look of a woman who’s raised sons. “And the baby’s going to need at least a few things while you are here. So unwad your panties, girl and feel the looove.”
Deanna chuckled, then sighed. “Except my cousin’s going to throw me one when I get back. Two showers just seems...excessive.”
“Your cousin...” Billie adjusted her glasses to peer at Deanna’s chart again. “That’s who you put down as next of kin, right? Emily Taylor?”
“Yes.”
“She came out here to visit a couple of times, didn’t she? When you were still kids?”
“She did. She’s...” Deanna cleared her throat. “She and I are very different, but she’s been my rock through this. I’ve been very blessed.”
A gentle smile brought Billie’s high cheekbones into full relief. “So why limit those blessings? Don’t see any reason why this munchkin can’t be showered twice, do you? And by the way,” she said, standing. “You’re coming over for Thanksgiving—no, no arguments. Because no way are you gonna be in that big house all by yourself on the holiday.” She gave a little laugh. “Although it’ll be crowded this year, what with all these new people coming into the family.” The midwife frowned. “And why are you giving me that look?”
“Because...”
Because she was clearly insane. Although that was a given, wasn’t it?
“Why not have Thanksgiving at the Vista?” Deanna said, struggling to her feet. “It’s all fixed up, for one thing. And the dining table could seat half the town, for crying out loud.”
Even though it’d never been more than her parents and her for holiday meals. Except for that single Christmas when Emily and her parents had come out, when she was ten. The Holiday from Hell, as she recalled.
Billie’s head tilted. “You sure?”
“Absolutely.” And the longer she thought about it, the more the thought of experiencing a huge, Norman Rockwell–style holiday dinner made her giddy.
Especially since this might be her only shot at such a thing.
“Seriously—why cram everyone into your little house when there’s this great big one just begging to be properly used, for once? Besides, it’s Josh’s house, too.” At least, for a while. “And please,” she said as her face heated, “let me help with the cooking. Unless you get off on doing the whole thing?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been threatening for years to buy one of those ready-made meals from the grocery store. I
f for no other reason than to see everybody’s appalled expressions. But you’re very pregnant, in case you hadn’t noticed—”
“What’s the worst that can happen? I go into labor with a dozen people around who can get me to the birthing center. One of whom could actually deliver the baby.”
Billie gave Deanna a speculative look before saying, “Okay. You’re on. Now, I’m sure Val will bring pies—”
“Ohmigosh, I had a piece of her peach pie the other day. I’m still on a high from it.”
“Then wait until you taste her pumpkin. And apple. And coconut cream. We can talk in a day or two about who does what with the rest. Although I call dibs on the sweet potatoes.”
Deanna laughed. “They’re all yours.”
Then Billie’s eyes softened. “After you moved to DC, Sam and I tried I don’t know how many times to get your daddy to join us for the holidays. He never would.”
“Even though he threw that big Christmas party for the town?”
“Even though. Just never wanted anything for himself.” Her brows dipped. “Pardon me for saying this, but your daddy was a strange man. A good man, all told. But strange.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”
“Even so, it was obvious how badly he wanted to make everything perfect for you.” Another smile touched the midwife’s lips. “Same as he did for your mother.”
Deanna hiked her purse higher up on her shoulder. “Only it didn’t work, did it?”
“Not that I could tell, no,” the older woman sighed out. “Then again, Katherine and I weren’t exactly besties. No one’s fault,” she added quickly. “And she was never less than kind to me. But we really were from different worlds, we simply didn’t have much in common. And she seemed to prefer keeping to herself. Well,” she said, seeming to shake off the thought. “I guess I’ll see you Saturday at the shower. In the meantime, stay off your feet!”
As if, Deanna thought, letting Billie hug her again before trudging back to the reception desk to make her next appointment, then out to the small parking lot to heave herself up into the truck’s cab.
The Rancher's Expectant Christmas Page 9
