“Hi, Mom. Dad.” Violet breezed into the living room, where her parents waited with Cole, a lead weight residing in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t needed her father to unsettle her. Cole had accomplished that easily enough.
What were the chances of him walking in on her at the same moment her parents arrived on her doorstep? She’d dressed as fast as possible, choosing capri pants and a blouse instead of jeans solely because it would make her parents happy. Seeing approval in their expressions, she was glad she’d taken the time.
Cole’s expression did more than gladden her. A sliver of pleasure wound through her at his appreciative stare, more intense than when he’d discovered her wearing only a towel. Come to think of it, he hadn’t ever seen her in anything but jeans, either.
Wrong as it might be, she enjoyed his reaction. Violet didn’t always feel like a girl. Cole succeeded that in spades.
“I take it everyone has met,” she said with as much cheer as she could muster, giving first her father and then her mother a kiss and hug.
“Yes, we have.” Her mom held her tighter and longer than usual. Violet smelled the faint minty odor from her flavored electronic cigarette.
“Good,” she said. The momentary rush of affection and sentimentality was unexpected. Could their divorce be affecting her more than Violet thought?
“Let me have a look at you.” Her mother studied her for several seconds. “You’re positively radiant,” she gushed.
“Pretty as ever,” her father interjected, his eyes shining as they roamed her face. “I’m surprised this young man hasn’t run off with you. If he doesn’t wise up soon, some other guy is going to steal you away.”
“Dad!” Did he have to say that?
She’d attempted to explain her relationship with Cole to her mother when they’d spoken yesterday, along with their reasons for postponing certain decisions. Some of those reasons were becoming less important as her pregnancy advanced, but Cole still hadn’t said anything, and Violet refused to bring up the subject. Her patience was beginning to wear thin.
Cole smiled, not appearing the least affected by her father’s remark. So much for him disarming Cole.
“Vi’s definitely a catch,” Cole remarked.
A catch? Dated and chauvinistic remark aside, if she was such a catch, why hadn’t he asked her out so that they might get to know each other better?
Annoyed at both men and determined not to let it show, she asked, “Mom, Dad, can I get you something to drink? I have diet soda in the fridge or iced tea.”
“Your father thought we might drive into Scottsdale for dinner at that seafood restaurant he likes.”
“Why don’t we have dinner at the café? It’s closer, and the food is good.”
“Come on, Vi.” Her father put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “This is a celebration. Your mother and I are going to be grandparents.”
She rolled her eyes at his use of her childhood nickname. Now Cole would think it was perfectly acceptable.
In the end, Violet agreed to the seafood restaurant, if only to keep the peace. Her father insisted on driving and taking the rental car, a luxury sedan. She slid into the backseat, assuming Cole would join her. Instead, her mother climbed in.
Violet wasn’t at all comfortable watching the backs of her father’s and Cole’s heads, and strained to hear their conversation over her mother’s chatter. Finding it impossible, she scolded herself for worrying too much and concentrated on her mom.
“Did the doctor have good news for you at your follow-up visit?”
“All is well. She gave me another ultrasound. I made copies of the image if you want one.”
“Of course I do.” Her mother reached across the seat and patted Violet’s knee. “How’s your morning sickness?”
“Easing up a bit.”
Violet relaxed. Her mother’s enthusiasm, and her father’s, too, such as it was, pleased her. They might not approve of all the decisions she’d made in her life, but they truly did want a grandchild and would love the baby with all their hearts.
She heard the tail end of something Cole said to her father. It sounded as if they were discussing the weather, except that made no sense. Her dad couldn’t care less about anything to do with cattle ranching. She supposed he was simply trying to get along with Cole. He’d made an effort with Denny, too.
“I spoke to your grandmothers,” her mother said. “Both of them. And your aunt Sylvia. They’re thrilled and insist on invitations to the shower.
“Mom, I wish you’d wait awhile longer before telling people.”
“Oh, darling. You’re having a baby. You can’t expect me to keep quiet.” Her mother went on, not hearing a thing Violet said. “Naturally, you’ll have to fly to Seattle for the shower. I was thinking—”
“I’m not going to Seattle.”
“You can’t expect your grandmothers to fly here. At their ages?”
Cole glanced at Violet over his shoulder, his expression questioning.
“We’ll talk about this later, Mom.” She gnawed on her lower lip in an effort to remain calm.
This passive-aggressive push-pull was as typical for her mother as unnerving people was for her father. Both of them went after what they wanted with little regard for others.
Violet distracted herself by concentrating on her father and Cole, who, of all things, were talking about the weather. Her gut screamed that her father was up to something, and she hoped Cole didn’t walk into any traps.
When they arrived at the restaurant—finally—it was to learn they already had a reservation, thanks to a call her father had made earlier. She should have known he’d get his way. He always did. The hostess escorted them to a table facing a huge picture window, through which could be seen a dazzling view of the desert at sunset.
Cole requested a beer. Her mother’s frown was fleeting but unmistakable. In her opinion, beer was a blue-collar beverage. She’d selected an expensive red wine for herself, while Violet’s father ordered a single malt scotch. Naturally.
“Do you have sparkling water?” Violet asked the waitress when it was her turn.
Small talk continued while they enjoyed the view and perused the menus. Violet couldn’t shake the feeling that all was not well despite appearances to the contrary. Her parents smiled a bit too brightly and talked a little too loud.
“I understand you’re a rodeo champion.” Violet’s mother addressed Cole. “How exciting.”
“Champion is a stretch, ma’am.”
“Call me Julia. Please.”
“Thank you.”
“But you have won rodeos?” She tilted her head inquisitively.
Violet cringed. Why did her mother always have to push?
Cole, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind the line of questioning. “I can claim a few of the gold buckles on display at my grandparents’ home.”
“Gold buckles? For belts?”
“It’s a coveted award in rodeo, Mom,” Violet interrupted.
“Ah. How nice.”
“You attend college, young man?” her father asked.
“Mostly the school of hard knocks, of which I’ve had my share.”
Her father cleared his throat.
By some miracle, Violet managed to keep her mouth shut for the most part during the remainder of the dinner, though it wasn’t easy. Not soon enough for her, their server swooped in to clear the plates. Violet was eyeing the door when her mother insisted on dessert.
“You must try the cheesecake. It’s their signature dish.”
While they waited for dessert, the moment Violet had been dreading most arrived. Her father cornered Cole.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what are your plans regarding my daughter?”
“Dad!” Violet’
s hands flew to her face.
“I’m not sure what you mean by plans, sir,” Cole said evenly.
“Are you getting married?”
This was going from bad to worse. “Dad, it’s none of your business.”
To his credit, Cole remained unfazed. “We haven’t decided yet.”
Lines of displeasure creased her father’s brow. “Why not? Don’t you think it’s the right thing to do?”
Violet beat Cole to the punch. “I’m not ready. For marriage.”
“Need I remind you that you’re having a baby?”
“No, Dad, you don’t. I’m pretty aware of it every morning when I toss my cookies.”
“No reason to be crass,” her mother admonished, then changed tactics. “You must understand that we’re concerned.”
“A man takes responsibility for his child,” her father said.
“That’s enough.” Violet placed her hands on the table as if to rise. What Cole said next stopped her.
“I agree, sir, and, I assure you, I will take responsibility. However, I would think at this time you’d be more concerned about Vi’s health than her marital status. She did just have a recent scare. Stress isn’t good for her or the baby.”
Violet swallowed a gasp. Not many people stood up to her father.
“You’re right.” Her mother patted her hand. “Violet’s health is what matters the most.”
Their server returned, carrying dessert. Violet couldn’t have been more grateful for the interruption. When the check came, Cole tried to pay. Her father wouldn’t hear of it and practically snatched the black tablet holding the bill out of Cole’s hands.
“My treat,” he insisted.
Cole’s jaw moved very little when he spoke. “Thank you, sir.”
Another tactic of her father’s. Engage the other person in a power struggle and win. He practically gloated.
She’d never admired Cole more than tonight. “Thank you for not losing your temper,” she murmered, as he pulled her chair out.
“No reason to.”
Further talking was impossible as Violet’s mother came over and linked arms with her. Violet suspected the move was intentional.
“You don’t mind if I steal her from you? We haven’t seen her in almost a year, and I miss her terribly.”
Cole graciously stepped aside.
Once again, they drove with the men in front, the women in back.
“Cole seems like a nice young man,” her mother said.
“He is. Very nice. You and Dad, not so nice.”
“Don’t be angry. We just want to be sure.”
“Of what?”
“Well, you know.”
Violet gritted her teeth. “No, Mom, I don’t know.”
“That he’s right for you.”
“And if you’re not sure? What then? Are you going to forbid me from seeing him?”
“We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
“He’s my child’s father, whether you like it or not.”
Her mother removed her electronic cigarette from her purse, probably in preparation for the moment they arrived at Violet’s house, where she could stand outside and enjoy it. “Let’s not ruin the evening.”
Ruin the evening? As if it wasn’t ruined already. Violet considered arguing. Only she wouldn’t. Not in front of Cole.
Ten years away from home, and nothing had changed. Was it any wonder she refused to move back to Seattle?
Chapter Eight
Cole refused to abandon Vi and leave her to fend for herself in this pool of sharks.
Okay, sharks was a gross exaggeration. Despite her parents’ inexcusable behavior, they genuinely loved their daughter. But they were so intent on taking a piece out of each other, they failed to notice how much their actions affected the people around them. Especially Vi.
When the four of them arrived at her house, Cole made sure to accompany her inside. Julia turned to him, a sweet-as-pie smile on her face, her hand extended for a shake.
“It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope to see you again before we leave.”
Somehow, he doubted it. On both counts.
Before he could answer, Vi cut in. “Cole’s not leaving.”
Julia blinked in surprise. “He’s not?”
Damn straight.
“Not yet,” Vi said. “It’s still early.”
“Oh.” Julia’s hand fell limply to her side, but she recovered quickly and stepped in front of Cole. “I was hoping your father and I could visit with you for a while. It’s been so long.”
“You can,” Vi said. “We’ll all visit.”
On a different day, Cole might have let himself enjoy this small victory. Tonight, however, Vi’s motives probably had more to do with using him as a buffer between her and her parents than desiring his company.
Not that he blamed her. He hadn’t endured such an awkward and uncomfortable dinner since last Thanksgiving, when both fractions of the Dempseys were joined together for the first time. To compare Vi’s family to the days following his father’s death was saying a lot.
In the living room, everyone located a place to sit. Vi’s Siamese greeted them with a loud meow. She reached down to pet it, and when the cat persisted meowing, headed to the kitchen, presumably to refill the food dish.
Cole stayed behind with her parents. Squaring his shoulders, he readied himself for whatever came next.
Edgar leaned back in Vi’s recliner. “With beef prices on the rise these days, cattle ranching must be quite profitable.”
“Prices are going up, but trust me, it’s not because ranchers are raking in the money.”
“Someone is.”
Cole ventured a guess at what Vi’s father was implying. “If you’re questioning my ability to support my child—”
“Now, now. No need to get defensive.”
“I’m not. Just being honest.”
“In that case,” Julia interjected, “let me ask this. Can you afford the kind of upbringing he or she deserves?”
“What kind of upbringing is that?” Cole asked. He might not be rich, but he wasn’t on the brink of poverty, either. Rodeoing had provided him with a decent living. And if his brothers bought out his share of the ranch, he’d have more than enough money to support his child for years.
“Violet’s child shouldn’t lack for anything.”
He faced Julia. “Excuse me, ma’am, but no child should.”
Edgar cleared his throat yet again. “Vi tells me your grandparents own a large horse ranch in California and that you plan on running it when you retire from rodeo.”
“I may. I’m not sure.”
Cole and Josh weren’t the only ones in line to inherit a share of their grandparents’ ranch. They had grown up with four cousins, as well.
Plus for all Cole knew, his grandparents could decide to sell their ranch after they retired and spend the money traveling the world. They’d certainly earned it.
“What aren’t you sure of?” Vi asked, entering the room.
Edgar squirmed.
Cole couldn’t explain why, but he came to the older man’s rescue. “Your father and I were discussing cattle prices.”
“I can’t believe you still have those cats,” Julia said, when Vi sat on the couch beside her. “Tell me you’ll find homes for them before the baby’s born.”
“I love my cats.”
“They’re dangerous to newborn babies.”
“Mom, that’s an old wives’ tale.”
“I think you should ask your doctor.”
Cole wasn’t fooled. Julia had purposely steered the conversation away from Edgar’s questioning. He found that very interesting. For two people whose marriage was supposedly over
, they appeared to look out for each other.
Vi managed some of her own conversation steering. “Anyone in the mood for coffee?”
“I’d rather have a scotch,” her father said.
“No, Edgar.” Julia might have been scolding a recalcitrant child. “You have to drive us home.”
Home being the resort in Scottsdale.
“Don’t harp on me.”
She exhaled sharply and turned her back on him.
“Doesn’t matter, Dad,” Vi said. “I don’t have any scotch.”
“What about whiskey?” he grumped.
“You aren’t going to make me drive,” Vi’s mother scolded. “I can’t see well at night.”
“I’d be happy to take you to the resort, Mrs. Hathaway,” Cole said.
“I told you to call me Julia.”
Edgar narrowed his gaze at Cole. “Are you implying I’ve had too much to drink, young man?”
“Not at all, sir. I’m merely offering to drive Julia.”
“I’ll take care of my wife.”
“Mom, Dad.” Vi visibly struggled to control her temper. “Please don’t argue.”
Cole stood, went over to her and held out his hand. “Let me help you with that coffee.”
She gave him an appreciative smile, as if he had, in fact, rescued her from a school of sharks. In the kitchen, he stayed close to her side and would have liked to kiss her if the timing wasn’t off.
“Hang in there,” he said.
“They’re impossible.”
“They mean well.”
She laughed. “You can’t seriously be defending them. Wasn’t my father asking you about your ability to support the baby when I walked in?”
“I might want to know the same thing if I was in his shoes.”
“You wouldn’t be that rude.”
“Who’s to say what I’d do?” Cole reached into the cupboard for mugs while Vi readied the coffeemaker.
“I just wish they were more supportive. Isn’t it enough that I’m happy with where I live and what I do?”
Having the Rancher's Baby Page 10
