How to Be a Blissful Bride

by Stacy Connelly

  “Summer, this is Alexa Mayhew. She’s a friend of Rory McClaren’s.”

  Summer’s cornflower blue eyes widened. “Oh, my gosh! Do you know Chance McClaren? I am one of his biggest fans. I keep hoping I’ll run into him in town, but so far, no luck.”

  Alexa didn’t want to feel jealous that this beautiful, wide-eyed woman wanted the chance to meet her idol. Didn’t want to think of the adoring fans he had around the world.

  As Summer went on about the color and composition of his photos, Alexa realized the other woman hadn’t exaggerated about being a true fan—and not simply of Chance as a handsome, successful photojournalist, but of his photographs.

  Jarrett called his sister’s name from the doorway to the stables, and the bubbly blonde headed out to give a riding lesson, but not before asking if Alexa would introduce her to Chance.

  “Sorry about that,” Theresa said as she led the way into the small office in the corner of the stables. “Summer can be a bit exuberant at times, but that’s why we love her. And while I’ll admit I’m a little biased, she truly is a talented photographer. She’s taken all of the pictures for the rescue’s website and for our Home, Sweet Home wall.”

  Theresa waved a hand to the space behind the desk and the collage of horses posing with their adoptive families. But it was another picture that caught Alexa’s eye. One of a denim-and-flannel-dressed cowboy hovering midair above a ferocious black bull. “Is that Jarrett?”

  “That it is,” Theresa confirmed. “Back in his bull riding days.”

  After watching the cowboy in the corral for only a few moments, Alexa had seen his quiet confidence and skill with the horses, but this—this was something else. “Isn’t that...dangerous?”

  “That it is,” the brunette repeated. “Fortunately, that was back in the days before we met. Before a pretty serious injury put an end to his rodeo career.”

  “What would you do,” Alexa asked, her pulse suddenly pounding in her ears, “if that injury healed to the point where Jarrett wanted to ride again?”

  Theresa exhaled a breath. “Boy, I’ve never really thought about that before.” Leaning back against the edge of the desk, she said, “I didn’t know Jarrett when he was competing, but I have an idea of how important it was to him, how much he loved it. Giving it up was hard on him, and if he hadn’t turned his attention to rescuing horses, I hate to think of the darker paths he might have chosen. So, even though I know how dangerous bull riding can be, even though a part of me would always, well, hate it, to be perfectly honest, I’d have to do all I could to support him.

  “Maybe my own career as a trauma nurse gives me a different perspective. I know how quickly life can change. From illness, to injuries, to accidents, you never know what might happen, no matter how careful you are. For me, it was a car accident.”

  “Were you seriously injured?”

  “Seriously enough,” Theresa admitted. “When I first came here, I was still hurting. I honestly didn’t know if I would recover to the point where I could go back to the job I loved, and Jarrett was there for me. He had a faith in me that I didn’t have in myself.”

  “But that’s not the same thing, is it? Nursing doesn’t come with the dangers of being a photo...I mean, bull rider,” Alexa amended at the last second.

  Theresa’s knowing smile acknowledged the slip, but she merely said, “True. But at the time, going back to work meant going back to St. Louis. His life was here and mine, I thought, was there. So, as clichéd as it might sound, Jarrett loved me enough to let me go, which in the end is what gave me the strength to stay.”

  Letting go of someone she loved... Alexa felt she’d lived her whole life letting go. Could she find a way to hold on to the hope that she might be reason enough for Chance to stay?

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Are you ready for this?” Chance asked as he pulled into a parking space and cut the engine.

  Sucking in a deep breath, Alexa gazed at the three-story building in front of them. “I didn’t expect to be so nervous,” she admitted, her hands tightening on the seat belt without releasing the latch.

  After the tour of the Rockin’ R ranch, Theresa had invited Alexa to stay for lunch. Over sandwiches piled high with shaved roast beef, lettuce and tomato, the other woman had asked about Alexa’s pregnancy. Before she knew it, Alexa was sharing more personal details than she ever would have expected to with a perfect stranger. But Theresa’s compassion and calm demeanor made her easy to talk to.

  Maybe it was all part of the pretty nurse’s bedside manner even though they’d both been sitting at the kitchen table at the time.

  And when Alexa admitted she’d had to cancel her ultrasound appointment back home after her stay in Clearville had lasted longer than planned, Theresa had recommended an obstetrician at the medical clinic in nearby Redfield.

  “Will they be able to tell if it’s a boy or a girl?” Chance asked.

  “Possibly, if the baby cooperates and is in the right position. Do you want to know what we’re having?”

  “I’m not sure. I think...I’d rather be surprised. To find out in that moment when we first meet our child whether we have a son or a daughter.”

  In that moment...

  After pulling the key from the ignition, Chance climbed from the SUV, but Alexa couldn’t bring herself to move as he rounded the hood to open her door.

  His eyebrows rose when he realized she was still buckled into her seat. Concern filled his expression as he crouched by her side. “Hey, everything okay? You’re not that worried about the scan, are you?”

  “No, I’m fine.” Alexa shook her head, and she unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed her purse. Her hands trembled as she held tight to the leather strap. Not with fear, but with the faint stirrings of hope. She’d been steeling herself from the beginning to face going through labor alone.

  But now, with Chance making it sound as though he wanted to be in the delivery room with her, she pressed a hand to her trembling stomach. She wanted him there. She desperately wanted him to be there, but if she started to count on that, to count on him, and if he let her down...

  Whenever his cell phone rang and he stepped out of the room to take the call, her heart practically leaped from her chest. Each time, she waited for him to tell her he was taking another assignment, biting her lip to keep from begging him not to go. So far her fears had been unfounded as Chance would slip the phone back into his pocket without saying a word. But Alexa knew the day would come, and she wondered if he had any idea that when he left he’d be taking her heart with him.

  Chance was silent as they headed toward the clinic’s glass doors. When Alexa turned toward a large directory near the elevators, he guided her down a hall to the left.

  “The obstetrician’s office is this way.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “And you know that...how?”

  “Because,” he explained, “my physical therapist is a few doors down.”

  Which was true, but Chance had probably paid more attention to the comings and goings from the baby doctor’s office than any healthy, single man should. He’d been attending therapy down the hall long enough to have seen a few hugely pregnant women arrive for an appointment one week only to return soon afterward with a newborn infant in their arms.

  More than once, he’d lent a hand to a woman struggling to hold an infant in one arm while maneuvering an awkward baby carrier or enormous stroller with her free hand. And he’d wondered where their husbands, the fathers of their children were. Why were so many of the women trying to handle all this alone?

  The way Alexa will be alone when you go on assignment.

  Guilt tightened around his chest, making it almost impossible to breathe. The trapped, suffocating feeling was the same one he used to get on his visits home. When his mother’s not-so-subtle hints about settling down and his father’s more pointed comments abo
ut wanting Chance to take over the family business had sent him running.

  And he’d never stopped.

  For years, he’d been racing toward his goals—tracking down an elusive source, following the story wherever it led, grabbing hold of the acclaim, the awards, the highest achievements in his field.

  But when he thought of leaving Alexa, of leaving their baby, he didn’t feel like he was running toward his future. But more like he was running away from his past.

  Heading toward the reception area, Alexa smiled at the young woman behind the desk. “I’m here for an appointment with Dr. Fitzgerald. My doctor in LA was supposed to email my records.”

  “Yes, Ms. Mayhew. We have them here. In looking over them, the doctor noticed some...gaps in the father’s medical history?” The receptionist glanced at Chance but clearly didn’t want to make any assumptions.

  His jaw tightened, not as concerned about the gaps in his history as he was about the gaps in his child’s future.

  Embarrassment colored Alexa’s cheeks as she reached for the clipboard, but Chance beat her to it. “Let’s fill in some of those blanks.”

  The receptionist offered him a relieved smile before he and Alexa took two seats in the corner of the waiting room. Sitting ramrod straight in the chair beside him, her hands were locked around her purse strap in a death grip. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

  “Don’t, Alexa. I told you before, what’s done is done.”

  But as he filled out the forms, spelling out the details of his recent surgeries word for word, he couldn’t help wondering what might have happened if Alexa had gotten ahold of him in the days before the bombing.

  If he had dropped everything to go to be with her then, he might not have been injured. He would have known about her pregnancy from the start, but then what? Had he been perfectly healthy over the past three months, did he really think he would have turned down another assignment? He certainly wouldn’t have come to Clearville. He wouldn’t be sitting at Alexa’s side now.

  Without the months of recovery, time he’d spent with memories of Alexa filling his waking and sleeping hours, he might never had slowed down enough to consider a life beyond the one he’d always known.

  He’d never been a big believer in fate, but... Reaching over, he grabbed Alexa’s slender hand. “Some things are meant to be.”

  She returned his reassuring squeeze, and Chance didn’t want to let go. Not even when a nurse called her name a few minutes later. The woman explained that the doctor would perform an exam first, and they would bring Chance back to the room for the ultrasound.

  Finished with the forms, Chance had nothing to do but wait—and pace—while Alexa was with the doctor. He stopped abruptly when a turn by the reception desk had him nearly bumping into a very pregnant woman who had just signed in. “Sorry, I’m—”

  “A first-time dad?” she guessed with a sympathetic smile.

  Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. “That obvious?”

  “It’s been a while since we had our first, but I still recognize the signs.”

  Two months ago had anyone told him he would be talking babies and pregnancy with a total stranger, he would have laughed his head off. But as he helped lower the mom-to-be into one of the waiting-room chairs, he asked, “What number is this for you?”

  “Our third. Another boy.” She rolled her eyes. “Heaven help me.” But her dreamy smile as she rested her hands on her large belly told another story.

  “You look familiar.” Cocking her head to one side, she said, “I know! You’re Rory McClaren’s brother, aren’t you? I work at a florist shop in Clearville, and we’ve done the flowers for some of Hillcrest’s weddings.”

  “Oh, right.” Great, now he was talking babies, flowers and weddings with a perfect stranger. He may as well forfeit his man card for all eternity. “Chance McClaren.”

  “I’m Nina Kincaid. It’s nice to meet you.”

  The name rang a bell. Nina... Oh, yeah, this was Lindsay’s sister-in-law and the guest of honor for the surprise baby shower at the hotel next weekend.

  Did Alexa have friends in LA who would throw such a party for her? Friends who would look after her? Between her absentee and neglectful parents and a grandmother more interested in grooming a successor than raising a granddaughter, Chance could understand why Alexa didn’t want to raise their child the same way. He even agreed with her, but he hated the thought of her going back to LA to live alone.

  At least in Clearville Rory and Evie were around. His Aunt Evelyn had recently finished her cancer treatments and hoped to be back at work by the beginning of the New Year. Heck, even his parents were only a few hours away, too close for his comfort, but he had no doubt his mother especially was dying for a grandchild to love and—

  “Whoa, there, Dad!” Nina advised, though her voice sounded far away thanks to the crazy whirlwind of thoughts circling inside his brain. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

  Fighting the dizzying sensation, Chance sank back against the waiting-room chair. He wasn’t actually hoping Alexa might stay in Clearville... Was he?

  * * *

  Chance didn’t know how many photographs he’d taken over the years, how many pictures he’d studied. But nothing, nothing, compared to seeing the ultrasound of his baby. He—or she—was perfect. The sex didn’t matter any more than it mattered that the baby’s features were little more than an indistinct blur.

  This was his child.

  Seeing the pictures, hearing the baby’s heartbeat made it all...real in a way it hadn’t been before then. He could take a thousand photos, ten thousand photos, and none of them could compare to the one he held in his hand.

  “What do you think about Kylee?”

  “Hmm?”

  Seated together on the couch, Chance held Alexa’s feet in his lap. He idly pressed his thumb into her arch. After the past few days, he’d discovered the wonder of her body again and again. He’d made a study of where to touch to make her laugh, to make her gasp, to make her moan.

  But now his fingers stilled as the truth of his thoughts hit hard. Nothing would ever matter more than Alexa and their baby. And yet what was he supposed to do? Quit his job? Live off the Mayhew fortune? Everything inside him rebelled at the idea. Call him old-fashioned or chauvinistic, but he wanted to be a man who would support his family. And even if money wasn’t an issue, he still craved the challenge and excitement his career offered. So not just a chauvinist, but a selfish one, as well.

  “What do you think about Clearville?” he asked, still focused on the possibility that had followed him from the obstetrician’s office.

  Looking up from the book in her lap, an amused smile tipped her lips. Her face lit with laughter, the sound easing some of the pressure in his chest. “Well, I know parents who have named their children Paris or London, but I’m not sure I want to go with Clearville.”

  At his confused frown, she held up the book so he could see the title and be reminded that they were supposed to be talking about baby names. “Sorry.” He shook his head, realizing how far his mind had strayed, but he wasn’t ready to let go. Taking the book from her, he set it aside on the coffee table. “We can talk baby names for the next four months, but what do you think about moving to Clearville?”

  “Moving? Here?” Her eyes widened at the thought, but Chance was on a roll.

  “I know Clearville doesn’t have as much to offer as LA, but it’s a great small town.” She’d already told him that she didn’t want their child raised by nannies and private tutors the way she had been. “A great place to raise a family. You’d still be able to see your grandmother when you go back for foundation events, but think about how you’ve already become a part of the community here. And between my sister and Evie and my parents, you’d have family nearby.”

  Planting her palms against the cushions, Alexa sa
t up straight and pulled her feet from his lap. “Your family, Chance. Not mine.”

  They could be.

  The thought echoed in his mind. He’d blown that first proposal, but he’d been waiting for an opportunity to ask Alexa a second time to marry him. But now he wouldn’t have to. She’d already given her answer.

  * * *

  “Oh, this looks wonderful!” Lindsay Kincaid said as she, Rory and Alexa stepped into the parlor room decorated for her sister-in-law’s baby shower.

  A large circle of chairs, each tied with a cluster of blue balloons and matching bows, surrounded a small love seat—the place of honor for the mom-to-be. Two tables covered in blue-and-white-striped tablecloths had been set up against the dark walnut-paneled walls—one in anticipation of all the baby gifts, and another holding a gorgeous cake shaped like a cradle and an assortment of finger sandwiches, fresh cut fruits and vegetables, and a large bowl of punch. A sign overhead proclaimed It’s a Boy!, and large boxes, mimicking a child’s colorful toy blocks, spelled out Wyatt, the name Nina and her husband, Bryce, had picked out for their third son.

  “Not that I expected anything less.” Turning to Alexa, Lindsay said, “My husband, Ryder, and I were married at Hillcrest, and Rory did an amazing job!”

  “It was so romantic,” Rory agreed, “but I can’t take credit for that. You and Ryder are the ones who made the day special. Anyone just looking could see how completely crazy you are for each other.”

  Lindsay’s pretty face glowed with an almost secretive smile. The smile of a woman in love. A few months ago, Alexa might not have recognized it for what it was. She did now, seeing the expression every time she looked in the mirror. But unlike Lindsay, she also saw the doubt reflected in her own eyes. She loved Chance, and while she couldn’t deny he cared for her, caring wasn’t love.

  Pushing the troubling thought from her mind, Alexa waved a hand at the cluster of chairs. “It looks like you’re expecting quite a turnout. Did you invite half the town?”