by Judy Duarte
Tyrone Williams, one of Clay’s pilots back at Wheeler, married a woman who’d claimed he’d gotten her pregnant. Six weeks later, after going to one of her doctor visits, he realized the baby’s conception didn’t match up with the time frame of their relationship, and it turned out the baby wasn’t his.
Was Rickie trying to do the same thing to Clay? Was she trying to pin paternity on him? It didn’t seem likely, but he couldn’t help his skepticism.
By the time morning rolled around, Clay gave up any hope of falling back to sleep. So he climbed out of bed, showered, shaved and dressed for the day. Then he headed to the kitchen, breathing in the familiar, mouthwatering aroma of a hearty breakfast. He even caught a tantalizing whiff of sugar and spice as he followed the sounds of coffee percolating into the pot and bacon sizzling in a cast-iron skillet.
His mom, who was standing in front of the stove, must have heard his approach, because she turned to the doorway and offered him a bright smile. “Good morning, honey. I thought I’d get up early and make breakfast for you. How would you like your eggs? Scrambled? Sunny side up? I can poach them, if you want.”
He’d never been comfortable with her efforts to mother him, which is why he usually fixed his own meals. “I’ll just have bacon and toast.”
“Are you sure? That’s not going to help you regain the weight you lost.”
Rather than comment, Clay glanced at the counter, where a dozen muffins rested on a cooling rack. They sure smelled good. Maybe he was hungrier than he thought.
He made his way to the kitchen table, which had been set for three. “Where’s Granddad?”
“He’s talking to the ranch hands and lining out their work for the day. He said he’d be back shortly.”
Granddad, who’d always been tough as cowhide, loved working cattle. But he was in his late-seventies now, and Clay didn’t want to see him push himself too hard. The old man should be thinking about retirement and not riding the range and supervising ranch hands. As soon as Clay was able to mount a horse and pull his own weight, he planned to take some of the load off his grandfather.
The mudroom door creaked open, and the silver-haired rancher strode into the house, his boot steps solid and steady in spite of his slight stoop.
“Well, look who’s awake.” Granddad winked at Clay, and his lips quirked into a smile. “It’s Sleeping Beauty.”
Clay wished that had been the case last night, but he wasn’t going to offer a rebuttal that might require an explanation. Instead, he tossed his grandfather a wry grin. “It takes time for a body to heal, I guess. So I got a slow start this morning.”
“I’m glad you’re finally up. I’ve got a surprise for you.” Granddad crossed the room to the small desk near the pantry, opened a drawer and pulled out a piece of paper. “Life gave you one hell of a kick in the butt, so you might not appreciate this now, but one day you will.”
“What’s that?”
“Something I hope will soften the blow.” Granddad handed over the paper, which appeared to be a legal document.
Clay scanned it, realizing he held the deed to the Bar M. And it no longer bore his grandfather’s name.
“The ranch is all yours now,” Granddad said.
Clay had never wanted to be tied to the land, but it was a generous gift, a loving one made from the heart. “I don’t know what to say. ‘Thank you’ doesn’t seem to be enough.”
“That’s good enough for me,” Granddad said. “I realize you can’t do much until you’re back to fightin’ weight, so I’ll just continue to run the place till you’re ready to take over.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Clay hoped to be able to take charge in a couple of weeks. He could probably do it now, but the last thing he needed to do was to screw up his leg before it was completely healed.
Call him crazy and a die-hard soldier, but he still hoped to be able to prove the military doctors wrong. He couldn’t do a damn thing about the vision in his left eye, so he’d never be able to fly again. But he might be able to join the Texas National Guard. That way, he could still run the family ranch and serve the country for one weekend each month. It wouldn’t be the same, ever, but it would still fulfill his dream. Sort of.
Granddad crossed the kitchen and snatched a crisp slice of bacon from the platter near the stove. Then he nodded toward the doorway. “I’m going to wash up.”
When he left the kitchen, Clay was still holding the deed and studying his name. He was grateful and appreciative, but...well, now he felt more grounded than ever.
“Have you given Rickie and her situation any thought?” his mom asked.
“She’s crossed my mind.” Actually, he’d given her and her news a lot more thought than his mom would ever know. That’s why he hadn’t slept worth a damn.
His mother lowered the flame under the skillet and turned away from the stove to face him. “So what are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure yet.” He had a good idea, though. A starting point. But he didn’t want to go into any real detail until he’d thought through all the possible repercussions. “There’s a lot to consider.”
She nodded, as if she understood. “Can I pour you a cup of coffee?”
“That sounds good. But I’ll take it to go.”
At that, her brow furrowed. “Where are you going? You had physical therapy yesterday.”
He might regret the revelation later, but for some reason, he decided to be more open with her than usual. “I’m going to Jeffersville. I need to talk to Rickie.”
Mom’s bright smile lit her blue eyes in a way he hadn’t seen in a long time. “That’s a good idea.”
He sure hoped so. Either way, he couldn’t ignore the situation. He preferred to address problems head-on, and this one would be no different, even though fatherhood would complicate his life in ways he couldn’t imagine.
While his mom poured coffee into an insulated disposable cup, he glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was too early to show up unexpectedly at Rickie’s house. But he wasn’t about to remain on the ranch, where his mom was sure to throw in her good-hearted two cents every chance she got.
He’d figure out a way to stall for time, even if that meant he had to drive around Jeffersville and check out the town where Rickie lived and would raise the twins.
Maybe by then, he would come up with a way to get on her good side, especially since he had a feeling she’d be offended if he insisted upon having a paternity test.
* * *
Rickie had driven away from the Bar M yesterday wishing she’d never made the trek to Wexler. Yet at the same time, she was glad she could finally put the much-needed conversation with Clay behind her.
She’d guessed the news of her pregnancy would surprise him, and she’d been right. It hadn’t pleased him, either. But what had she expected? There was no way he’d feel the same way about the babies that she did. Hopefully, after he had a chance to absorb it all, he’d be more accepting. But even if that didn’t turn out to be the case, she’d make out okay on her own.
When she’d told him she had to leave for a job interview, she hadn’t been blowing smoke. The temp agency she was working with had set up an appointment for her to meet with Dr. Glory Davidson at a family practice clinic in Brighton Valley.
The doctor had a two-month position for a receptionist. And by the time Rickie arrived, she’d rallied her emotions so she could put her best foot forward.
And it worked. Rickie and the fortysomething physician seemed to hit it off from the get-go. The doctor led Rickie back to her office and pointed to a chair in front of her desk, indicating that Rickie should sit down. Then she took her seat. “Call me Glory,” she said. “We’re pretty casual around here.”
That might be true, but there’d been no sign that they were lax. The clinic was clean and orderly. And Glory, who wore a white lab coat over a light blue blouse and black slacks, was dressed professionally.
“My receptionist has family living in Mexico,” Glory s
aid, “and her father recently had a crippling stroke. So she’s taking some time off to care for him and help him get settled in a rehab facility. We can get by without her for a few days to a week, but it looks like she’ll be gone two months or more.”
“The timing works for me,” Rickie said. “My babies aren’t due until late February.”
Glory leaned forward and rested her forearms on her desk. “I like the fact that you were a medic. And, by the way, thank you for your service.”
Rickie merely nodded. She never quite knew what to say to people who thanked her for doing the work she’d loved.
“Lorena does a great job answering the phone and scheduling appointments,” Glory said, “but she doesn’t have any medical training. So you’ll be a nice addition to the office, especially since you can take vitals and draw blood.”
“I’m a certified EMT,” Rickie said. “And I’m a fast learner.”
“That’s good to know.” Glory leaned back in her desk chair, the springs creaking. “Are you available to start work on Monday morning?”
“Yes, I can.”
Glory studied her a moment, then asked, “Have you ever thought about going to nursing school?”
“Actually, that’s been a dream of mine. I’m not sure how I’ll pull that off once the twins get here. They’ll keep me busy. Plus I’ll also need a full-time job in order to support us. So school will have to wait. In the meantime, I’d love to work in the medical field, even if it’s as a paramedic.”
“Lorena mentioned something about retiring next fall,” Glory said. “So a permanent position here at the clinic might open up at the right time for you.”
“That would be perfect,” Rickie said. “And just so you know, I plan to start interviewing nannies before the twins are born. I’ll find someone dependable.”
“I have four kids of my own, so I know what it’s like to work around the physical limitations of pregnancy. I’ve also had to deal with an occasional child-care issue. I’m pretty flexible, so I don’t foresee any problems.”
Rickie came away from the interview feeling good about the temporary job she’d landed. Glory Davidson was personable, and since she seemed to be understanding of a single mother’s plight, it looked like it might be a good fit.
The only downside was the forty-five-minute commute, which would get tiring after a while. And if it turned into a permanent position, she’d be away from the babies an extra hour and a half each day.
It was too bad she couldn’t find something closer. But she wasn’t too worried. She’d found this position easily, so if things didn’t work out, she might not have any trouble finding something else closer to the house.
The drive home from the clinic would have gone quickly, but Rickie had spotted a children’s shop located near the interstate and had decided to stop. After nearly an hour spent checking out cribs, bedding and baby clothes, she finally drove back to her house. All the while, she made a mental note of everything she wanted to accomplish prior to her due date. Then before going to bed, she wrote out a long to-do list scheduling her priorities.
Over the years, she’d learned that organization and having a solid game plan were key, so she woke up the next morning energized and ready to get started. Her biggest job was to convert her father’s home office into a nursery, which would take a while since she had to empty it first.
While getting dressed, she studied her image in the full-length mirror that hung on her bedroom door. She caressed her baby bump, which seemed to grow bigger every day. She wondered what it would look like four months from now.
A slow grin stole across her lips. As long as the little ones were healthy and she carried them to term, she didn’t mind if she got as big as a barn.
She chose to wear a pair of stretchy workout pants and an oversize shirt for comfort and mobility. Then she pulled her hair into a messy topknot so the long, curly strands wouldn’t get in her way while she worked.
She’d no more than left her bedroom and stepped into the hall when the doorbell rang. She couldn’t imagine who it might be, but she wouldn’t know until she answered. So she padded to the door.
The moment she spotted Clay on the stoop, wearing a sheepish grin that dimpled his cheeks, her breath caught. Talk about surprise visits.
His hair was stylishly mussed. Gone was the Army captain, she thought. His appearance alone darn near screamed cowboy—and much more than it had yesterday when he’d been at the ranch.
She took in his chambray shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his muscular forearms, the worn denim jeans and scuffed boots, then scanned back up to his handsome face. The only sign of his injury was a scar over his left brow.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I had some time to mull over what you told me yesterday, and I thought I’d better come here and talk to you in person.”
She continued to stand there, unable to move, while gawking at him and wishing she’d been better prepared for his arrival.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asked.
At that, she finally came to her senses. “Yes, sure. Of course. Come on in.” She stepped aside, letting him enter the small living room, then closing the door.
“Nice house,” he said, checking out the interior. “Did you grow up here?”
“I... No, not exactly. We moved here when I was in high school.” It’s not as if she had any real attachment to the house, but she was glad to have a place to raise her babies.
“I hope I didn’t come too early,” Clay said. “I was afraid I might wake you up.”
“No, I’ve been up for a while.”
Should she offer him something to eat or drink? That might make it easier for him to say whatever he had on his mind.
“I can make a pot of coffee,” she said, “but I only have decaf. I also have orange juice.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine. I had breakfast at a diner near the interstate.” He shoved his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. “How’d your interview go yesterday?”
“Much better than I’d hoped. I start work at a clinic in Brighton Valley on Monday. It’s only a temporary position, and the pay isn’t much, but there’s a chance I could land a permanent job there in the future.”
“You don’t mind the long drive to work?”
She shrugged. “I’m not happy about it. But there are other options.”
“Like what?”
“I could find a rental house in Brighton Valley and rent this one out. Or I could sell this house and buy another.”
He arched a brow, then nodded as if her plan made perfect sense. Did he realize a move to Brighton Valley would put her closer to his ranch?
He glanced at her expanding belly. “What about the babies?”
“I’ll take it one day at a time. I’ve never been a single mother before.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“About what?” That she’d ended up pregnant after their lovemaking? That he’d practically shunned her when she visited him at Tripler when she’d been worried about him and had only wanted to offer her sympathy?
“About yesterday. It’s just that... Well, let’s just say that your pregnancy announcement knocked me off balance.”
“I knew it would. I didn’t expect you to be happy about it, either. In fact, I considered not telling you at all, but that wouldn’t have been right.”
“I’m glad you told me. To be completely honest, I wasn’t happy. But after sleeping on it, I feel a little better about things now.”
“I don’t blame you for needing some time to think things over. I showed up unexpectedly and hit you with some pretty surprising news. Not only am I pregnant, but I’m having two babies.”
“I guess twins run in your family.”
“Apparently so.” That was another reason she was happy about the pregnancy. The whole idea of having twins reminded her of the sister she’d lost, the closeness they’d shared in spite of Lainie’s frail health.
> Neither of them spoke for a moment. Then she added, “I’m going to call the girl Elena, after my sister.”
“What about the boy?”
“I haven’t decided.” There really wasn’t anyone in her family that she’d want to honor. She’d never really liked her adoptive father’s name and wouldn’t want to call her son Edwin, which sounded too old. And her biological dad hadn’t been the kind of man she’d want her son to emulate.
Would Clay offer up a suggestion? Did he have a friend or family member he wanted to honor?
Then again, he’d come here to apologize for his attitude yesterday. And he wasn’t exactly offering to take on a paternal role, which was fine with her.
They continued to stand in the middle of the living room, both pensive and silent.
Finally, Clay said, “Just for the record, I plan to pay you child support. I’d just... Well, I don’t want this to sound mean or anything, but I’d like to have a DNA test first.”
The comment hurt, and she flinched ever so slightly. She understood why he’d want paternity proven, but it also questioned her honesty and integrity. But then again, he really didn’t know her.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “It’s not that I don’t trust or believe you. It’s just...a formality. And I think it will protect everyone involved.”
“I understand.” She had to admit that she really couldn’t blame him.
“And that’s another reason I’m here. Under the circumstances, I think we should get to know each other better.”
Now that surprised her. And oddly enough, it pleased her, too. “What did you have in mind?”
* * *
In all honesty, Clay hadn’t thought it out that far. Rickie flinched when he’d mentioned that he wanted a paternity test, which the family lawyer was going to insist upon. He had no reason to doubt her words or her determination to go it alone, but he caught something hiding in her expressive brown eyes, a secret she harbored beneath the surface.
For a brief moment, sadness and vulnerability stole across her face, mocking everything she’d just told him. And even if she could handle it on her own, she shouldn’t have to.
