“I—I got the j-j-job.”
Teddy kept patting her back, rocking her back and forth. “Oh. Well, then. You don’t want it?”
She shook her head. “I do. I do want it.”
“You don’t have to take it, Annabeth. You’re a Boone now.” He kept on rocking. “You can do anything you want. Hell, you could help me out here, at the Lodge. That’d be a real treat.”
Her sobs kept coming.
“Aw, honey, you’re breaking my heart.” Teddy’s voice was rough. “Been a long time since I comforted a woman. I’m afraid I’m not much good at it.”
She shook her head as she pulled out of his arms. “You’re the sweetest man, Teddy. I’m just an...emotional mess right now.” She sniffed. “I’ll take a shower.”
“Ryder and I will get Cody to bed,” Teddy offered.
“You don’t have to—”
“Wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.” Teddy’s voice was firm. “You go on, take a shower, read a book, whatever you need, you hear?”
Annabeth nodded, carrying the manila envelope into the bedroom with her. She closed the door, opened the envelope and scanned the information. They were giving her a raise—a big raise. No wonder Cutter was worked up. A big bump in medical benefits and retirement matching, as well. There was no way she could turn this down. She tossed the papers onto the bed, stripped and turned on the shower.
She rested her head against the tiles, willing the throb of her headache aside. She shampooed her hair, shaved her legs and stood under the jet until her skin was wrinkled. By the time she stepped out she was overheated and shaking. She didn’t bother with her pajamas, or brushing her hair. She slipped into bed and stared up at the ceiling, her mind racing.
Her phone rang. It was Josie. “Hi.”
“Annabeth? Do you have a cold?” Josie paused. “I’m so sorry I missed the meeting tonight. Eli had his Agriculture Club meeting and Hunter got called into the vet hospital for an emergency, so I was trying to be a good stepmom.”
“Eli’s meeting was probably more fun.”
“Well?” Josie asked. “Are you still the principal of Stonewall Crossing?”
“I am.” Annabeth tried for enthusiasm and ended up bursting into tears all over again.
“Annabeth?”
“I’m fine,” she blubbered. “Just...so...emotional.”
“I’m on my way.”
“No, no,” Annabeth pleaded. “I’m already in bed.”
“It’s seven forty-five.” Josie sighed. “Please let me come over. I’ll bring Eli. We can watch a chick flick and cry on your bed?”
She couldn’t stop crying. “I’m already crying.”
“Good.” Josie laughed. “I’m on my way.” She hung up before Annabeth could answer.
Annabeth tossed back the blankets, staring at her rounded stomach. Soon there would be no way to hide it. She wrapped her arms around the bump. “We’re going to be okay,” she whispered. “Your mom’s got this single-mom thing down.” Her own words set her off again. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.”
“Annabeth—” The anguish in Ryder’s voice startled her.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Why was he looking at her like that? Like he was hurting? She sniffed and wiped the tears from her face. “I’m tired.” She bent to pull a nightie from the bedside drawer when her stomach clenched tightly. She covered her mouth and ran for the toilet, fighting her way into the nightie as she went.
Her stomach rejected the three licks of ice cream, half a sandwich and handful of crackers she’d eaten that day—as well as the extra-large protein smoothie she’d had for breakfast. She had nothing left, but her stomach kept heaving.
“This can’t be normal.” Ryder placed a cool washcloth against her forehead.
She shook her head, horrified that he was there. It was bad enough that she was an emotional wreck, but he was here, in the room, at her side, while she dry-heaved into the toilet. She held her hand up, croaking, “You don’t have to be in here...”
He squatted beside her, rubbing the cool washcloth across her forehead again. “I need to be here,” he argued. “I need to take care of you.” His hand cradled her cheek, but she refused to meet his gaze. She was mortified. “Think you’re done?” he asked.
She nodded slowly.
His strong hands clasped hers, pulling her up. Dizziness had her swaying where she stood, so Ryder swung her up into his arms. She didn’t argue. She liked being in his arms, his big, warm, strong arms. She felt better there.
“You’re skin and bones,” he murmured.
“And babies,” she added.
She could feel him smiling at her even though she refused to look at him as he placed her on the bed.
“Josie’s coming over,” Annabeth blurted out. “She heard me crying—”
“Why were you crying?” The anguish was back, forcing her to look at him.
He was so beautiful it hurt. “I... I’m pregnant.”
He sat beside her on the bed, gently towel-drying her hair. His fingers brushed the nape of her neck. He set the towel down, sliding his fingers through the long locks of her hair. “Why are you so determined to keep me out?” His fingers kept moving, working gently through a snarl.
“I’m... I just...” Her mind raced. She’d made him a promise. She couldn’t exactly say, I love you and I want you to want to stay married to me even though I promised to divorce you once we knew about the job. Could she?
She took a deep breath and forced herself to look at him. His brow was creased, his frown tense. As soon as he saw her gaze on him, he cocked an eyebrow at her. She touched the spot between his eyebrows, rubbing out the furrow there. He smiled, a lop-sided grin that had her heart pounding. His hand caught hers.
Maybe she should just spit it out there?
“Hey, guys.” Josie arrived, carrying a bag. “I brought three tearjerkers, and two romantic comedies so we wouldn’t get too maudlin.”
Annabeth jumped up, then groaned.
“Come on, Princess.” Ryder stood, leading her to the overstuffed chair in the corner. “You sit. I think Josie and I can get things set up.”
“I don’t think I ever want to get pregnant.” Josie grimaced as she helped Ryder spread up the bed. “But I definitely want kids.”
Ryder’s expression was so comical, Annabeth had no choice but to laugh.
Ryder’s pale blue eyes settled on her face and she was wrapped in the comfort of his smile. It would have been better if she’d never known how good it could be. If nothing else, her time with Ryder had reminded her that love was more than responsibilities and work—it was about joy and having fun. If he left tomorrow, she’d hold on to the memories they’d made together.
Chapter Fifteen
Ryder nudged his horse forward with a light squeeze of his knees. His father rode along the other side, clicking occasionally at the massive draft horse he preferred riding. Ryder smiled, enjoying the quiet companionability that had settled over them as they worked. He knew his father and knew he was up to something. He rarely rode fence lines anymore, but he’d volunteered to take Hunter’s place that evening.
“Go ahead, Dad,” Ryder prompted him.
Teddy tipped his beige hat back on his head and rested his hands on the horn of his saddle. “With what?”
Ryder sighed. “Speak your mind.”
Teddy nodded. “Time was you’d have avoided riding out with me when you knew I had something to say.”
Ryder couldn’t argue. “Times change.”
His words startled his father, but he nodded before saying, “You’re working hard. And I appreciate it. Around here, with the ranch. At Annabeth’s house—your house.” His father turned all of his attention on him. “Is she expecting?”
“Yes, sir,” Ryder said.
“Is that why you married her?”
Ryder nodded once.
“A lot of marriages start that way. Seen a few end because of it, too. I don’t want that for you, son. I don’t want that for any of you.” Teddy shook his head. “She’s a mighty stubborn little thing.”
Which was an understatement. In the two weeks since the school board meeting, she’d spent every waking minute acting like he was a parent at her school. She was all professional charm, but she avoided any time alone with him—or eye contact. That didn’t mean there was no hope. It just meant he had to try harder. Ryder laughed. “Yes, sir.”
“But you love her. I can see it.” Teddy clicked his tongue, keeping the horses moving along the barbed-wire fence as they talked. “Always have, if Renata’s pictures are right.” He looked at his son again. “She acts like you’re leaving.”
Ryder nodded.
“Is that the plan?” Ryder heard the tightness in his father’s voice. “Are you leaving?”
“No, sir,” he answered quickly. “But she seems to think so.”
His father laughed. “Women are hard to work out. But your wife, well, I think I see where she’s coming from. She was expecting when Greg passed on. She’s expecting now and—with your history—I imagine she’s waiting for you to go, too. Not die, but leave her alone.” His father grinned. “It’s what she knows, relying on herself.”
Ryder stared at his father.
“Flo might have helped me figure some of this out,” his father admitted. “I went to see her a few nights past and found her in her right mind. Not many women like Florence Chenault.”
Ryder nodded, reeling from his father’s newest revelation.
“Back in the day, we were close.” His father laughed. “I figured she’d tell me what was going on, since you wouldn’t.”
His father’s words stung.
“Not that you and I have ever been good at talking.” His father held up a hand, adding, “That’s my fault, not yours. But there comes a time when there’s no way to avoid talking, so...”
Ryder cocked an eyebrow at his father. “So?”
“Start talkin’.” His father glared at him. “How are you gonna keep Annabeth and Cody in the family?”
Ryder sat back in his saddle, looking up as the thin white clouds moved steadily across the sky. He wished he knew. “Guess I need to try harder.” He’d sent flowers to her office, made ice cream runs, helped with the school field trip to the veterinary hospital and passed up two plum riding opportunities in case she needed anything. But all that seemed to do was irritate her even more.
“Have you tried talking?” his father asked.
Ryder grimaced. “We just said I’m no good at it.”
“Who said that? I said we—” he pointed back and forth between the two of them “—weren’t good at it. With other people? I’m not so sure.”
“She’s more likely to argue than listen,” Ryder grumbled.
This time his father laughed. “Well, son, that’s good news.”
Ryder shot him a look. “How’s that?”
“Arguing. Looks like that baby isn’t the only thing you have in common.”
Ryder shook his head. “Babies.”
His father slapped his hand against his thigh. “I’ll be.” His father was all smiles for the rest of the ride.
But Ryder thought, maybe, his dad had a point. And, at this point, talking was the only thing he hadn’t tried. He could only hope he’d find the right words.
* * *
ANNABETH STARED AT the flowers on her desk. Ryder had sent her yellow roses. Why? Because she loved yellow. He’d also sent her lemon soda. Why? Because she liked lemons. It was like he was trying to lessen the blow that was coming. And it was coming, she knew it was. He’d been home late for the past few weeks, sneaking in when she was supposed to be sleeping. Even though all she’d done was lie there and worry. She had a hard time believing there were that many fences to mend or that there was a rodeo every night... Not that it mattered. It was good he was putting distance between them.
So all the little gifts were to ease his guilt. Did he think he could buy her off? That sneaking off to do whatever he was doing was okay? She’d hoped he’d behave until after they were divorced. And they hadn’t even begun to talk about divorce proceedings.
Her attention wandered to the beautiful framed picture of her, Cody and Ryder at their wedding party. And another one, just the two of them. He was looking at her the way she was looking at him—as if there was love there.
She sighed, filing away the papers from this afternoon’s parent-teacher conference and scrolling through her emails. She had a few parent complaints and a meeting request from the school board, but nothing too pressing. It could wait until tomorrow.
Right now, there was nothing she wanted more than to cook dinner with Cody and to try to hunt down her husband for a long-overdue talk. She loved him and she wanted him to know that. She didn’t know if they could make it work, if he could find a way to love her forever, instead of for the time being.
She stopped by the gym for Cody, thanked Bryan for letting him hang out and drove Lady Blue to the Lodge.
“When’s the h-house going to be fixed?” Cody asked.
“Ryder said there was so much work to be done that it was going to be a while. Tired of the Lodge?”
Cody laughed. “No way.”
Annabeth shook her head. “Oh really?”
Cody nodded. She knew how close Teddy and Cody were getting, their love of model cars acting as a sturdy glue. But that’s what worried her. Cody was getting too comfortable in the Boone family—they both were. Maybe the babies would ensure they were always family no matter what happened between her and Ryder. But how would she cope with that? Seeing what she wanted, what she had and what she lost.
She drew in a deep breath. No more speculating until she’d worked things out with Ryder.
“How about spaghetti and meatballs tonight?” she asked, turning at the impressive wrought-iron-and-stone gate that announced they’d reached Boone Ranch.
She saw Cody press his nose to the glass, hoping for a sighting of Uncle Hunter’s whitetail or axis deer. Or maybe even some of the exotic game he’d started working with. Cody thought the animals were fascinating. Not as fascinating as cars, but a solid second. It probably helped that Eli was really into animals. He was older, the kind of kid someone Cody’s age would look up to. The fact that he was a good kid, kind to Cody, respectful to his family, and funny, was a huge relief for Annabeth.
Teddy looked up from the check-in counter at the Lodge. “You’re home early.”
“I thought I’d make dinner for you tonight,” she offered. “Spaghetti and meatballs? I know that’s Ryder’s favorite.”
Teddy frowned. “He said something about working late tonight.”
She nodded, trying not to be disappointed. “It’ll keep.”
Teddy’s smile was strained. “I’m sure he’ll be starved when he gets home.”
“How was y-your day?” Cody asked Teddy, climbing up onto the stool beside the older man.
“Well, let’s see. We have a couple here all the way from Minnesota. And a few businessmen thinking about renting the place out for a retreat or something. Other than that, it’s been pretty quiet.”
Cody nodded. “Had a s-spelling test.”
Teddy nodded. “How’d it go?”
Cody shrugged. “D-dunno yet.”
Annabeth smiled at the exchange. “Cody, why don’t you go spend some time with Tom while I get started on dinner.”
Cody nodded, hopping down and scurrying to his bedroom.
“You don’t have to cook, Annabeth.” Teddy was watching her. “There’s stew and corn
bread or chicken-fried steak in the dining room.”
“For guests,” she countered. “I appreciate it, Teddy, I do. But I have to do something to feel like I’m pulling my weight around here.”
Teddy scratched his chin, then nodded. “I’m pretty partial to spaghetti and meatballs myself.”
Annabeth smiled. “Good.” In her room, she changed into some black leggings, one of the few things that didn’t feel tight on her stomach. She tried on several T-shirts, but all of them hugged her bump in a way that left no doubt as to her condition. She gave up, pulling on one of Ryder’s long flannel button-up shirts. She put her hair into a ponytail, slid on some slipper socks and headed back into the kitchen.
She was humming to the radio, rolling up meatballs, when she heard Ryder say hello to his father. She spun around as he entered the kitchen—looking dirty and tired and so handsome—it took everything she had not to welcome him home properly.
“You’re not barefoot.” His voice was low and gruff, a broad grin on his way-too-handsome face.
“It’s a little too cold to be barefoot. And unsanitary—” Then she got it. Barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen. She scowled at him. “Oh. I thought you were working late.”
His smile faded. “Dad told me you were here.”
She stopped, an uncooked meatball in her hand. “So you came home?”
“Nice shirt.” He sat his tool belt on the bench and crossed the room. “We need to talk, Princess.”
Her heart sank. “We do.”
“I know what you’re going to say.” Ryder shoved his hands into his pockets. “So I want you to let me go first. Please.”
“Okay.” She forced the word out.
His frown deepened as his gaze traveled over every inch of her face. “I’m sorry I waited so long to do this.” He sighed, opening then closing his mouth. His attention wandered to the meatball in her hand. “But I don’t want to do this while I’m covered in dirt and sweat. Let me clean up first?”
She nodded, unable to speak. He was sorry. He was sorry he’d waited so long to end it? What was he sorry about? She turned back to her cooking, slapping the meatballs onto the tray and ignoring his exit from the room.
Twins for the Rebel Cowboy Page 17
