Baby in the Bargain

by Tessa Berkley

  “Sure we are, just like oil and water.”

  “Now who’s being bad?” She gave a shake of her head.

  Lee glanced at his sister. “It’s not that easy, you know.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we have issues.”

  “Issues?” She crossed her arms and gave him a loaded glare.

  He felt his shoulders sag.

  “What is it now?”

  “Today was hard. I said something, then acted stupid.”

  “Don’t you always?”

  He shook his head. “You don’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  Lee studied her for a moment before he moved to the bed. Pushing his bag out of the way, he sat down, and she followed, sitting next to him.

  “Go on,” Ariella urged.

  “I demanded to know what happened with the rodeo.”

  “And she said?”

  “She grew out of it.”

  His sister’s forehead furrowed with confusion. “Okay, that doesn’t sound like Willamenia.”

  “No, I thought so too. I sort of…” Lee paused. “I sort of stepped in front of her, demanding she tell me if she wanted to get past.”

  “Oh, Lee, you didn’t.”

  His mouth took on the expression of biting a lemon. “When that wasn’t enough, I pulled her close and attempted to kiss her.”

  Ariella closed her eyes. “What did she do?”

  His hand reached up to touch his cheek.

  “Oh, boy,” she murmured.

  “I knew it was the wrong move,” he admitted.

  “But you couldn’t help yourself,” she finished. “It’s been like this since you guys were in high school. Big Bro, it’s time to put up or shut up. You’ve got to win her heart.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  “Look, all I can tell you to do is be brave, be honest, be the man she knows. Just don’t push. The moment you push, all her defenses rise.”

  Ariella gave her brother a big hug.

  “Think about it. You can do this.”

  He nodded.

  “Okay, I’m going to hit the hay. I’m bushed. You thought your day was bad? I had to go to a call where a pair of twins put their heads through a wrought iron fence.”

  “How did you get them out?”

  Her smile grew. “Petroleum jelly. See you in the morning.”

  “Yeah, in the morning.”

  ****

  Jeremiah Cogsdale stood waiting as Lee pulled the trailer into the yard.

  “Take it around to the back paddock.” His voice rose over the hum of the idle engine. “Follow the dirt road back around, take the left turn just past the corral where Silverheels stays.”

  “Will do.”

  Lee gave a curt nod as Willamenia’s father stepped back. He pressed the gas, and the truck bucked forward, tugging the trailer behind it. Maggie and Doodlebug shifted on their feet. He heard their hooves ring as they passed the corral. A whinny followed. Lee glanced out the window as the stallion raised his head in curiosity. He trotted toward them, sniffing the wind, hoping to catch the scent of the horses inside. A toss of his head, and he loped over to the rail, then followed the trailer with his eyes as they reached their new digs.

  Lee put the truck in park and cut the motor. Slipping from behind the wheel, he made his way to the rear, where he and Jeremiah worked together to lower the gate. Taking the lead, he slid up to the front of the trailer and unhooked the lead shank. One by one, they backed the mares out. Doodlebug lifted her head and took an admiring glance at the stallion. Her neigh was answered by his deep bellow. As Lee led her to the pen, her feet bounced on the ground as if she were trying to impress him. Shutting the gate, he joined Willamenia’s father at the rail.

  “I see why my daughter was so excited to have you bring him out and breed them. They’ve got excellent conformation.”

  “They come from good stock,” Lee admitted.

  “I did some checking.” Jeremiah shrugged. “Must have cost you a pretty penny.”

  Lee lifted his shoulders with a wry grin. “Worth every bologna sandwich I had to endure.”

  Jeremiah gave a gruff chuckle, and then, to Lee’s surprise, he placed a fatherly hand upon his back.

  “I’ve been in those shoes once or twice. Let’s get Big Jim’s mare bred before Silverheels gets any other ideas.”

  Following Willamenia’s father to the barn, they picked up the mare.

  “Take her to the barn. I’ll get Silverheels.”

  Lee led Big Jim’s mare over, and once Jeremiah came in with Silverheels, they got right to work. After a few tense greetings, the stallion finally decided to get down to business. Then, separating the two, Lee and Jeremiah took the horses back to their separate spaces before meeting in the doorway to the main barn.

  “Not a bad morning’s work.”

  “It seemed to be a good take,” Jeremiah agreed.

  “So what now?”

  “We wait.” Jeremiah sighed. “About six weeks, to see if it worked.” He let out a slow deep breath and glanced toward the house. “Did you eat?”

  Lee looked down at his feet. “Just coffee.”

  There was a pause before Jeremiah spoke again.

  “Willamenia should have something for us. Let’s go into the house.”

  “Are you sure?” Lee questioned. “I’m not so sure she’d want to see me, after yesterday.”

  “Oh, yesterday is forgotten. Come on, son, you have to eat if you’re going to give me a solid day’s work.”

  Lee folded the gloves he’d worn and stuffed them into the rear pocket of his jeans. “If you think it’s wise.”

  “Trust me.” Jeremiah grinned.

  Lee fell in behind him, and they walked toward the main house. As they crossed the main yard, a shrill sound of an alarm split the air, shattering the morning calm.

  Jeremiah slammed to a halt so fast Lee nearly ran into him.

  “What the—” he hissed.

  The sound continued as a dark cloud of smoke rolled from between the kitchen curtains.

  “Come on!” he cried and rushed around Jeremiah, barreling toward the door.

  Shoving the door open, Lee could see flames licking their way up from a pan on the stove, aiming toward the fan and the wooden cabinet on the side. Willamenia’s hand was thrown over her mouth in an attempt to keep the smoke from entering her lungs. From the fit of coughing going on, it had failed miserably.

  “Get back!” Lee yelled.

  From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the figure of Grandpa Cogsdale standing with a shocked and bewildered look upon his face.

  “Willamenia, what’s going on?” he cried.

  “Go out the door, Grandpa. I’ve got to smother the flames.”

  She took a tentative step forward as the flames gained strength. Lee looked around for something to use. Behind him, he heard Jeremiah rush into the room. He turned and pointed toward Willamenia.

  “Get them out of here!”

  As they rushed forward, Lee grabbed a pot lid from the counter and shoved in front of Willamenia.

  “Get out!”

  The smoke was dark and rolling across the ceiling, nearly blinding them all.

  “No, I-I can’t…” She stepped back.

  “Come on, Pop,” Jeremiah pleaded with his father.

  The old man was slow to move. Bewildered, he kept turning back toward the den. “I’ve got to get something.” A cough racked his body. He turned his glassy eyes toward his son. “What’s happening? How did this start?” he repeated.

  “Don’t worry about that now. Willamenia, help me get him out.” Her father shouted over the roar of the flames and the smoke alarm.

  “Alli. I have to get Alli!”

  She backed away and disappeared toward the upstairs.

  Lee’s mouth twisted with grim frustration. He had to get this fire out so he could rescue Willamenia. He focused on the rise and fall of the flames. Getting a feel of their rhythm
, he raised the domed lid. Jeremiah pushed his father out the door.

  For a brief moment, the gust of wind blew against the flames, knocking them down a bit. That was all the time Lee needed. He pounced. Mindless of the heat, he pressed the domed lid down as the flames bubbled in protest. Over the alarm, he could have sworn he heard the sound of a child crying. Wrenching open a counter drawer, he pulled out a kitchen towel and ran water over it before wrapping it around the hot handle. A figure rushed past him. He glanced over to see Willamenia, with something bundled in a blanket, rushing in the direction of the kitchen door.

  “Hold it open!”

  Grasping the pan’s handle with one hand and holding the other end of the towel on the lid, Lee rushed from the kitchen to the outside. Once past the porch, he tossed the pan and its contents onto the gravel in the yard. The pan bounced, the lid flew off, and for a moment, the flames leaped in delight. The hot oil rushed along the ground and soaked in, and with a flicker the fire died.

  Lee sat with his knees on the ground and watched. His hands shaking, he wiped them down the tops of his pant legs while drinking in the fresh air that surrounded them. Once strong enough, he rose to his feet and looked around. Twice in one week ya’ll have tried to kill me. With a shake of his head, he let his gaze search for Willamenia.

  She stood across the way, her face streaked with soot, clutching the bundle to her chest. Their gazes met, and he saw the bundle move. A head slipped into the sunshine. Lee felt as if a hand had been driven into his midsection. No matter how badly he wanted to breathe, the reality found him gasping once again for air. A pair of brown eyes stared unwavering, questioning his presence. The golden curls jostled for position. He moved toward Willamenia. Unconsciously, her arms encircled the child, pulling it close. His focus never strayed. Toe to toe they stood. His glance drifted to Willamenia’s pale features.

  “Who is this?”

  Chapter Five

  Willamenia’s heart stopped beating. Her lungs refused to function. Her hands tightened around her daughter, and she pulled her against her chest.

  “Willamenia?” he asked again.

  I can’t let him know.

  His dark eyes bore into hers. His lips formed a thin line. She held her ground, meeting his gaze with a staunch one of her own. Lifting her chin in defense, she said, “She’s not your concern.”

  Her heart skipped a beat as she watched the muscle along his jaw work in anger. The thud of dread filled her ears as her heartbeats increased. Retreat seemed to be the better part of valor. She took a step to the side.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to see to my grandfather.”

  Lee took two steps and blocked her path. Her eyes flared in alarm as their gazes locked. She could read the fury in his eyes, and she countered by narrowing her gaze, defying him to stop her. As she made a wide turn to walk away, their elbows brushed. An electrical current shot up her arm, and she jerked her child just out of his reach. Flashing a guarded look over her shoulder, her footsteps gained momentum until five fingers wrapped around her arm and pulled her to a stop.

  As if in slow motion, Willamenia turned her head. Her gaze slid down to her right arm and with laser precision focused on Lee’s fingers. She heard the sharp intake of his breath as he pulled his hand away as if it were burnt.

  “Don’t,” she snapped, “ever do that again.”

  Lee took a step back. Head held high, Willamenia marched toward her father.

  Her dad knelt before her grandfather, seated in the lawn chair and staring woefully back at the house. As she took the seat beside him, with the child on her lap, she heard her father ask, “Are you all right, Pop?”

  He held a folded handkerchief out to him. Her grandfather took it and wiped one side of his face.

  “Course I’m all right.” He huffed and pulled the cloth against the grime on the other side of his face. “I just don’t understand.”

  “Grandpa,” she said gently, “what happened?”

  For a beat, the old man looked every bit of his eighty-five years. “I-I don’t know.” His words were dull. “I was fixing some bacon.” His brow furrowed. “Then, I swear I heard your momma’s voice.” He looked at Jeremiah, then shook his head. “She was singing.”

  Willamenia watched as he placed a hand to his temple, and she couldn’t mistake the tremor in his fingers.

  “But it can’t be.”

  He gazed at them. A lost look overtook his eyes, and it broke her heart.

  “My girl is gone, isn’t she? She’s been gone for a long while.”

  Willamenia sensed her father looking away. She studied the ground for a moment, searching for the right thing to say. Then, reaching out, she placed a gentle hand upon her grandfather’s arm.

  “Yes, Grandpa,” she whispered. “Grandma’s gone.” She offered a smile of encouragement. “But you’ve got Alli, here.”

  He turned toward his great-granddaughter.

  “She’s got your hair. Always loved those curls.” He ran his hand over her daughter’s head and was rewarded with a grin. “Golden curls like your momma and my Mary.” He chuckled.

  Willamenia leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of her grandfather’s hand as it rested against Alli’s head.

  “But those eyes. Those are not Cogsdale eyes.” Her grandfather frowned. “If I didn’t know better….” His words faded as he glanced across the way.

  Her heart tumbled toward her toes as he looked past her. Willamenia turned her head and followed the line of his gaze until she encountered the figure with his hands shoved in his pockets, glowering beneath the brim of his hat.

  “No, Grandpa,” she whispered.

  Lee Hawks seemed to hear. He looked up with a sinister glare.

  “I’m going to open windows,” he announced. “And see how bad it is.”

  ****

  Lee shoved back the curtains over the kitchen window so he’d have room to maneuver the window. Palms beneath the window frame, he shoved it up with far more force than necessary, sending it as high as it would go. The wood howled in protest. Bracing his arms on the sink, he sucked in the air from the outside, hoping that would steady his nerves.

  The words Willamenia’s grandfather had spoken echoed in his ears: those eyes. He closed his own and bowed his head, only to relive the image of those questioning brown orbs from that cherubic face.

  Brown. But Willamenia’s were blue. The same color as sapphires or the small band of light in the winter sky just before twilight claims the heavens. His stomach churned. Opening his eyes, Lee stared into the side of one of the chrome pans laid by the sink to dry. The same brown eyes stared back at him.

  The slamming of the screen door woke him from his stupor. He cast a glance over his shoulder and watched as Willamenia moved inside. Her steps reminded him of a cat that had been beaten on one too many occasions—soft, hesitant, ready to run at the slightest provocation. She stared at the floor, unwilling to meet his gaze. The child she’d so fiercely sheltered against her body was missing. She paused. He waited.

  Training ponies had taught him how to bide his time and wait for the moment. Willamenia’s independent nature made it tough. However, the last thing he wanted to do was to frighten her away. No, she had too many answers, answers only she knew, to his unspoken questions.

  He watched as she rested her hand on the back of the kitchen chair. She dampened her lips and raised her eyes a fraction of an inch to stare at him. His heart pounded, but he met her glance with a steady one of his own. Heat crawled up her neck and came to a final rest in her cheeks, turning the skin a candy-apple red.

  “My…my father sent me in,” she began. “He wants to know if you could keep an eye on the horses for him.”

  He raised a brow.

  “It will only be for a bit,” she assured him.

  He didn’t speak. Her eyes shied away from his intense glance.

  Lee took a deep breath, and she flinched.

  “I can.”

  She see
med to sag in relief at his words.

  “But I’d like to know why.”

  He watched her swallow. She drew her hands together as if in prayer.

  “He feels that Grandpa and the baby need to be checked over.” She lifted one shoulder as if to shrug off the concern. “I think the baby is fine—”

  “But,” he added, “your father would rather be safe than sorry.”

  Willamenia blinked and stared, as if taking in his words one at a time.

  “Yes.”

  Lee folded his arms over his chest. “I agree.”

  She seemed surprised.

  “Y-you do?”

  “I can air out the kitchen and clean some of this mess up while you are gone.”

  He watched as she looked over at the charred and blackened wood.

  “It’s going to be a big job to get this kitchen cleaned.”

  Lee swiveled and added up the elbow grease the job required.

  “There will be plenty for you to do when you return,” he assured her. “Your grandfather needs some attention.”

  She gave a solemn nod. “Right. We’ll be back as soon as possible.”

  Lee said nothing. He watched as she turned and moved toward the door. Her right foot crossed the threshold, but his next question stopped her cold.

  “How old is the baby, Willamenia? Year and a half? Two years?”

  She turned, her skin pale as she looked back over her shoulder. “She’s fifteen months.”

  “Her name?”

  “Allison. We…I mean, I call her Alli.”

  Lee digested the information. “You better go.”

  She gave a quick nod and hurried out the door.

  He stood in the silence, thinking. It takes nine months to have a baby. Add that to the fifteen, that would put it about two years ago. A knot in his stomach turned to stone.

  “Two years. Yep, that would make it just about right.”

  ****

  Cactus Gulch Medical Clinic was a four-story modern facility in the heart of town. Its sleek steel and glass façade seemed a bit out of place among the turn-of-the-century storefronts that dotted the downtown street. However, on a day like today, neither Willamenia nor her father would complain. Pulling to a stop at the emergency room entrance, Jeremiah Cogsdale turned to his daughter.