The mover angled a dolly under the last of the boxes in the hall, then headed out. Devin followed behind him. “I’ll see if they’ve loaded all five hundred pounds of your clothing into the van yet.”
“Smart aleck.” Vanessa tossed her head. “There are only fifty.”
Devin’s look shifted to Savannah. “She has a gift for understatement.”
“Only when I tell you how much I love you,” Vanessa pointed out. “Now get out of here.” She waited until Devin walked out the door before turning back to Savannah. The amused expression on Savannah’s face caught her off guard. “What?”
“You two are perfect for each other, you know that?” Savannah said. It was true: there was affection in every word that passed between the couple.
“You think?” Vanessa poked her tongue in her cheek and her eyes shone. “And so are you and Cruz.”
Savannah sighed. She’d gotten very little rest last night and even less sleep. She didn’t feel up to a discussion on this again. “Don’t start.”
“Oh, but I have to,” Vanessa teased. “I won’t have another chance for a few days.” Suddenly, Vanessa grew serious. “Listen to me, Savannah. He needs a good woman in his life. I grew up with him. I know Cruz, and I’m one of the very few women in this world who can look at him objectively. He’s drop-dead gorgeous, but he’s lonely.”
Lonely? Right. The man couldn’t make a move without stepping on a woman who was throwing herself at him. “The two don’t go together.”
“Yes, they do,” Vanessa insisted. “Sure, he’s been with a lot of women and they all flock to him, but he’s right in what he thinks.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s the cowboy they want to be with. The handsome wrangler who gives them something to fantasize about when they go back to their pricey worlds and their polished crystal stemware and their socially acceptable suitors with spreading waistlines. Cruz knows this, and he hasn’t let anyone close to him.” Vanessa smiled affectionately at her. “Until you.”
Afraid she would begin to believe her, Savannah started to turn away.
Vanessa caught her by the shoulders, holding her fast. “I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you,” she insisted. “You don’t want him for a fantasy, and he has no idea what to make of you or what to do with you.”
Savannah thought of the night she had just spent. “Oh, I think he has some idea what to do with me.”
Vanessa laughed just as Devin peered in through the front door. Vanessa help up her forefinger. “In a second,” she called out. Looking at Savannah, she hurriedly continued. “I think that the best thing that could happen to him is if you married him.”
Savannah knew Vanessa meant well, but this wasn’t helping the situation. There were only three words she needed to be convinced to marry him, and they wouldn’t be coming from Vanessa. “You’re my best friend. You have to say that.”
“No, I don’t,” Vanessa said firmly. “And I never say anything I don’t mean. My point is that Cruz needs someone like you in his life. I’ll go one step further. He needs you. And I think you need him.”
Vanessa was right. She did need him, but that too was something she wasn’t about to share. Not until she was convinced that he wanted her—and not just a clear conscience.
“What I need right now,” Savannah announced, “is a shower. And you need to go to Devin before he takes root over there, waiting for you.” She gestured toward the entrance.
Vanessa glanced toward her husband. “All right, all right, I’ll go. But that doesn’t mean I’m giving up on this.” And then she hugged Savannah tightly. “Stop thinking of everyone else for a change, and just think of you.”
Savannah only smiled in response as Vanessa released her. She was thinking of herself. She was remembering herself as a little girl. A little girl with an enormous burden on her shoulders. She didn’t want that happening twice in her life. More than anything, she didn’t want to ruin two more people’s lives the way she had ruined her mother and father’s.
Though they spoke on the telephone almost daily, the house seemed incredibly empty to Savannah without Vanessa there. Ryan had assured Savannah that she was welcome to remain at the house for as long as she wanted to. He urged her to think of the Double Crown as her home now. With the furniture from her former apartment now housed within the two spacious rooms that comprised her private living quarters, the Double Crown could very well have become her home.
But a feeling of restlessness wouldn’t leave her. Savannah felt as if she was in transition, as if she hadn’t found her real place yet. She figured it was probably due to the pregnancy. She hadn’t gained any weight yet, but because her stomach had finally settled down, she was no longer losing it either.
Without Vanessa to share her thoughts with, Savannah found herself spending more time with Cruz’s sister Maggie and her five-year-old son, Travis. She adored all children, and Travis was no exception. Sensing a kindred spirit, the boy gravitated to her, and she enjoyed playing with him and reading to him when Maggie was through housekeeping for the day.
“You’re really great with kids, you know? All he can talk about is you.”
Savannah grinned as Travis ran to her, crying out, “Sa-hanna!” She figured it was close enough. In her arms, Travis snuggled against her. He smelled of the outdoors and cookies. “He’s learning to be a real ladies’ man, like his uncle.”
“His uncle could take a few pointers from him,” Maggie said, sitting down on the front steps of her parents’ house. Maggie looked at her. “You know, you could have a real gentling effect on him.”
“Travis is great just as he is.”
“I was talking about Cruz.”
Savannah laughed as the boy made himself at home on her lap, presenting her with a picture book.
“I really doubt any woman could have a gentling effect on Cruz. Besides, I wouldn’t want to change him. He’s perfect just the way he is.”
“Perfect?” Maggie hooted. “Please, if you have an ounce of compassion in you, don’t ever let Cruz hear you say that. His head is big enough as it is.” She rolled her eyes. “Perfect, ha!”
“But he is.” Knowing it was what Travis wanted, she began to slowly bounce him on her knee. The little boy started giggling and clapping his hands. “He’s sensitive and exciting, and after you get used to how good looking he is, he’s easy to talk to.”
“See, that’s what I mean.” She gestured to underscore her point. “You talk to him. Most women aren’t interested in what he has between his ears—not that there’s much,” Maggie tacked on with a mischievous smile. “They’re more interest in what he has between the pockets of his tight jeans.” She bit back a laugh at the surprised look on Savannah’s face. “What they don’t think of him as is a person. But you do.”
Above Travis’s protest, Maggie shifted him from Savannah’s lap to the floor. “Play with your toy now, honey. Savannah and I have to talk.”
“Sounds ominous,” Savannah commented.
Maggie moved closer to Savannah, lowering her voice so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Why did you turn Cruz down when he asked you to marry him?”
“Because he asked me out of a sense of duty and honor.”
Maggie looked puzzled. “From what I hear, those are very good traits.”
They would be, if they were in addition to the all-important one: Love. “For a boy scout, maybe. I’m not a merit badge.”
Savannah debated saying anything further. But Maggie had befriended her, and she seemed genuinely interested in her happiness. So Savannah tried to make her understand her position. “If a man asks to marry me, I want to know it’s because he loves me. Because he can’t face a day without me. Not because his sister or his conscience tell him it’s the right thing.” She saw Maggie begin to protest, and cut her off. “I want his heart to tell him it’s the right thing.”
“And if his heart did all this talking,” Maggie hypothesized, “then you’d say yes?”
It was on the tip of Savannah’s tongue to say yes, but she couldn’t. There was more in the way than just that. “Maybe.”
Maggie’s brows drew together. “Only maybe?”
Savannah rose and began to pace. “There’s another problem. Cruz wants a horse ranch of his own.” She knew she wasn’t saying anything that Maggie didn’t know. He’d probably shared this with his family long before he had done so with her. “He wants it more than he can breathe.” She turned and looked pointedly at Maggie. “If he has to think about supporting the baby and me, he can’t put every dime he makes into his dream, now can he?”
“And once this baby is born, you’re planning on becoming a hermit?”
Travis took the opportunity to grab hold of Savannah’s arm and tug urgently. Without missing a beat, she stooped down and scooped him up into her arms. “What?”
“Staying close to home, doing nothing except care for the baby,” Maggie elaborated. “Not working for the Fortunes anymore.”
The idea of not working was absurd. She loved pulling her own weight. She always had. “No, of course not. I’ll take off a few weeks, then keep the baby with me as I work.”
Maggie spoke slowly, as if she was trying to digest every syllable. “You’re talking about your immediate plans, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” That was exactly what she was planning to do: have the baby, then return to work as soon as she was physically able. Rosita had already come to her and insisted that she be the one to watch the baby while Savannah worked.
“So why can’t you do that if you’re married? Why can’t you go on working as if you were a single mom, even if you’re married? You can provide for yourself and the baby, and Cruz can continue saving for his dream ranch.”
It sounded perfect, but nothing ever was. Savannah shook her head. “You’re oversimplifying it.”
“No, I’m not,” Maggie insisted. “Think about it.”
There was no need to think about it. “It’s a moot point. Your brother asked me once, and I turned him down. He used up his supply of male pride. He’s not about to ask me again.” Suddenly, she could see exactly what Maggie was thinking. “And don’t you make him.”
Maggie only laughed at the idea. “Maybe you don’t know him as well as I thought. Otherwise, you’d know that no one can make Cruz do anything he doesn’t want to do.” She rose to her feet and took Travis from Savannah. “Bedtime, little man.”
Travis began to whimper in protest. He turned soulful eyes toward his protector, but Maggie turned him away so that Savannah wasn’t subjected to the pitiful ploy.
She shushed her son’s protest. “Men, they’re all alike. Always trying to resist what’s best for them.” She looked at Savannah just before she crossed to the threshold. “All I ask is that you promise to think about what I said.”
Savannah knew she could spend from now until doomsday thinking about it. It wouldn’t change anything. The moves, the words, all belonged to Cruz.
But to placate Maggie, she murmured, “I promise,” and hoped that would be the end of it.
Twelve
Savannah frowned as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Putting aside the dress she’d been holding up against her, she stood sideways and looked again.
There was no doubt about it. She was starting to show.
After all these months, her waist was beginning to thicken just a little. It wasn’t really enough to make anyone notice, unless they were looking closely for telltale signs.
But she had been. Every day for the last five months—ever since she’d discovered that she was pregnant— Savannah had examined herself in the mirror each time she dressed. Waiting to see the signs that her body was nurturing another life within it.
Now the signs, long overdue, were here, and she wasn’t sure just how she felt about it. About anyone else seeing her body widening with life. Mixed emotions churned through her. Savannah pressed her clasped hands to her lips.
It was finally happening.
There should be no mixed emotions, she thought sadly. It should be a happy time. It was a happy time—but only when she thought of the baby, not the circumstances.
But her circumstances refused to hang back in the recesses of her mind for very long. She was a single mother. She could give the baby love, but not a father. At least, not beyond the biological sense of the word.
Damn, Savannah thought, reaching for her dress, when were these hormones of hers finally going to settle down and stop creating all these tears? Ever since she’d become pregnant, it was as if her emotions had gotten thrown onto a train repeatedly running up hills, only to plummet down the other sides.
This couldn’t go on. She had to get hold of herself. She had a baby to think about. And a future to create for both of them.
Giving herself a pep talk, Savannah slipped the deep-green velvet dress on and let the wide, soft skirt glide over her body. With a high neck and long, straight sleeves, the dress was festive and flattering. No one looking at her could guess that she was pregnant, much less six months along.
Slipping on her heels, she took a deep breath and went out to join the others.
Downstairs, the house was subtly decorated to reflect the Thanksgiving holiday. Floral arrangements of rust, deep gold and orange were tastefully set out in the foyer and adjacent areas.
People were already filling the house, and the sound of voices blending in simultaneous conversations rose to greet her before she reached the bottom step. Ryan was having his traditional Thanksgiving dinner, attended only by family and those who worked on the ranch. There’d be another larger dinner tomorrow night, where friends would be invited.
Trying not to be too obvious, Savannah looked around to see if Cruz was here. Maggie had warned her that Cruz might not come. It usually depended on his mood as to whether he would make an appearance.
Savannah didn’t see him—
She blocked out the pang that followed on the heels of the realization that he wasn’t here. It really wasn’t a surprise. Of late, she’d only seen him in passing. It was as if that night in his cabin hadn’t even taken place. Days would go by, and she wouldn’t catch so much as a glimpse of him at all. Someone told her that Cruz had taken to working with the horse in the meadow. She wondered if he was purposely avoiding her, shutting her out.
She could easily have ridden out to where he was, using some pretext or another. But that’s what it would have been—a pretext. And he would have seen through it. A woman had to draw the line somewhere, and she had already drawn hers when she’d turned him down.
But her common sense had turned him down, not her heart.
It was better this way, she told herself firmly as she smiled and returned greetings that came her way. She’d given Cruz her answer—now it was up to her to stick by it. The time for regrets was long gone.
“Hey, look at you,” Dallas enthused, coming up behind her. He enveloped Savannah in a warm hug. Gone this last month, he had arrived home in time for Thanksgiving. “Motherhood agrees with you, Savannah. You’re positively glowing.”
She pretended to fan herself as he released her. “I think it’s just the heat.”
Dallas laughed.
He’d had no intention of attending the dinner. For one thing, though he bore no ill will to Ryan personally, to Cruz the whole idea seemed patronizing: “Senor” Fortune throwing his doors and his table open to “the help” and having them mingle with his own family.
But that wasn’t his only reason for skipping the meal. For days he’d been avoiding seeing Savannah. She’d turned his proposal down, even after they’d made love again. Not verbally this time, but the message was still unmistakable. A man’s pride could only tolerate so much, and seeing her would be like rubbing salt into the wound created by her rejection. So he kept his distance, figuring that eventually this would all be a memory.
Cruz had no idea how many days made up an “eventually,” but he had a feeling the number was a lot higher than he an
ticipated.
But his decision to forgo Thanksgiving was not without repercussions. His father’s displeasure, though never dark, never censuring, was still not something he relished facing. The fact that he was a grown man and on his own made little difference.
Ruben Perez had sent his wife, daughter and grandson along to the main house while he stopped at his son’s cabin. He knew that Cruz, without being prodded, would not be attending the party. He intended to prod.
“You’re not ready.”
The shrug that met his father’s statement was purposely casual. “I’m not going.”
“Yes, you are.”
Cruz met his father’s eyes unflinchingly. “I’m too old to bully, Dad. I can do as I please. And I don’t want to attend Ryan Fortune’s Thanksgiving dinner.”
Ruben shook his head as he frowned. Instead of anger, there was disappointment in his eyes. Cruz would have preferred anger. “I never thought I’d live to see the day my son was a coward.”
Cruz’s eyes darkened at the affront. “I’m not a coward.”
Ruben looked mystified that there could be any doubt. “You’re running from a small, blond woman. What would you call it?”
Cruz blew out a breath, curbing his temper. He couldn’t allow himself to shout at his father. “I’m not running. I proposed, she turned me down.” And that was the end of it. “I can’t drag her off by her hair and make her marry me.”
“No,” Ruben readily agreed. “But you can face her.” He knew his son, understood his heart even when it remained such a mystery to Cruz. Life had taught him things. “No matter what you try to tell yourself to the contrary, that’s why you’re not going—because you’ll have to see her there. If your conscience was clear, you could face her.”
Cruz was losing his hold on his temper. Struggling to maintain control, he waved a hand at his father. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Fine.” Ruben inclined his head amiably. “I don’t know what I’m talking about.” He moved in front of Cruz as his son tried to turn away. “Prove me wrong. Attend the dinner.”
Expecting...in Texas Page 12
