Having the Cowboy's Baby

by Judy Duarte

  Could Carly be content only to be known as Ian’s wife or her child’s mother?

  She supposed she could if Ian didn’t smother the dream of the little girl inside her.

  Yet the longer she lay in bed with him, the harder it was to breathe. She couldn’t foresee a future for them unless Ian was willing to compromise and give her the freedom she needed to be someone.

  “Do you ever see yourself as a wife and mother?” he asked.

  His words struck a chilling blow, and she realized she’d given him the wrong idea.

  “Not the way you probably do.”

  Silence stretched across the mattress, creating a distance between them in spite of their embrace.

  Making love, as good as it had been, as much as she’d needed to be in Ian’s arms tonight, had been a mistake.

  One she didn’t dare make again.

  Chapter Nine

  Not wanting to lose the afterglow of their lovemaking, Ian suggested they discuss the future in the morning, and Carly agreed. They spent the night together, as had been their routine before, but sometime during the wee hours of the morning, she’d rolled to the far side of the bed, hugging her pillow instead of him.

  He’d told himself not to give it much thought, but he’d slept like hell. Before dawn, he got up, dressed quietly and slipped out of the room, taking care not to wake her. But this time he wasn’t heading out to do his morning chores, although he’d need to tend to those, too. He was going to check on Cheyenne.

  The puppy had plenty of food and water, but she’d undoubtedly missed his company. So there was no telling what she’d chewed up or how many puddles or piles she’d left on the floor.

  But as he tiptoed through the quiet ranch house, snuck out the back door in the darkness and headed for his cabin, he realized there was actually another reason for his stealthy departure. He wanted to avoid Carly.

  Sure, they needed to talk. And maybe he should even level with her and tell her that he’d fallen in love with her. But he doubted she felt the same way about him. And he wasn’t about to settle for a relationship in which one partner wasn’t fully committed to the other. On his grandparents’ ranch, he’d grown up in a loving household and seen firsthand how a good marriage worked. His grandparents had honored their wedding vows for nearly fifty years, and Ian didn’t want anything less.

  But Carly hadn’t had the same loving example when she’d been a child, and he was afraid that when they finally broached the future, she’d decide to end their relationship again. He couldn’t do anything about it if she chose to leave, but he wasn’t going to let the baby go as easily.

  When he opened the front door to the cabin that had been his home for the past three years, Cheyenne charged him, jumping up on her hind legs, whining and wagging her little stump of a tail in greeting.

  What Ian wouldn’t give to have Carly and their child greet his arrival like this, but that wasn’t likely.

  He loved Carly—and he would adore their son or daughter—but she didn’t appear to want to create a family with him. At least, not the kind he’d always envisioned for himself. He tried to understand that it wasn’t her so much as the childhood she’d had that influenced her thinking, but it was getting more and more difficult to make excuses for her.

  Still, it was going to kill him to see her go on tour—which she seemed hell-bent on doing. But what other option did he have?

  None that he could see, because he was every bit as determined to chart his own future as Carly was. And the paths they’d chosen weren’t likely to cross.

  * * *

  A telephone rang, waking Carly from a sound sleep. The morning sun peeked through the slats in the blinds, but other than that, she had no idea what time it was. Or where she was.

  She opened one eye and scanned the surroundings, suddenly recognizing the guest room and realizing that she was tangled up in the sheets alone. Apparently Ian had slipped out of bed earlier, which had usually been his habit. But this time... Well, things weren’t the same anymore.

  The phone rang again. Not her cell, but the old-style house telephone.

  She rolled out of bed, still naked from the night of lovemaking, then hurried to the living room and snatched the receiver off the cradle. She managed to answer before the fourth ring.

  It was Shannon Miller, Braden’s mother.

  “How’s it going?” Carly asked, wondering why she’d called so early.

  “My...uh...dad passed away a few hours ago.”

  Carly’s heart dropped to her stomach. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?”

  “Not that I can think of. Erik is here and has been handling everything.”

  Carly combed her fingers through her tousled hair. “All right, but please let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, honey. I appreciate that. Could you please tell your brother?”

  “Of course.” At least, she’d try to get a hold of Jason. His cell reception in Mexico was sometimes sketchy.

  After she said goodbye to Shannon, she dialed Jason’s number. While it rang, she bit back a yawn and wondered what time it actually was.

  She glanced at the fireplace mantel, looking for the antique clock, but it had already been packed away in one of the sealed boxes that lined the far wall. The house, she realized, had never looked so empty. As a rush of grief and loneliness swept through her, she wished she’d gotten dressed before placing the call.

  “Hey, Carly,” her older brother said. “What’s up?”

  Rather than blurt out her news, she decided to ease into it. “Are you and Juliana still in Mexico?”

  “Yes, we’re staying in a motel in a small town that’s about a hundred miles south of Guadalajara. I’m glad you called. We found the twins.”

  “That’s good news.” Now maybe her brother and his new bride could come back to the States and start their lives together.

  “Juliana and I were relieved to find them with the nanny, but we’ll have to brush up on our high school Spanish. They don’t speak English.”

  Carly could see where communicating would be tricky and smiled. “Then they’re lucky I wasn’t the one to find them. I took French in school.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, we’ve come up with our own kind of sign language, so we’re getting by.”

  “Then they weren’t living in an orphanage?”

  “No, they’ve been staying with the nanny, an older woman dad had hired. But she isn’t happy with the setup. Her English isn’t very good, either, but she made herself clear. She doesn’t want to keep them any longer.”

  “Oh, no. Those poor kids.”

  “Apparently Dad’s private investigator paid her for two months in advance and told her Dad would either send for her and the kids or pick them up as soon as he could. But he never called or showed up.”

  “Did she know that he was killed in a car accident, probably on his way to get them?”

  “She does now. Apparently she’s upset about not being paid for her services, so I gave her five hundred in cash. But I’ll need to find a bank to get the rest of the money she says he owes her, although I suspect she’s not being completely honest about the amount.”

  Carly ran a hand through her hair again, her finger catching on a tangle. “What are you going to do with the kids?”

  “I’ll bring them back with us. Fortunately, their paperwork seems to be in order. At least Dad managed to get that squared away.”

  “Does that mean you won’t have any problem crossing the border with them?”

  “We shouldn’t. And apparently we found the nanny just in time. She’d already had the kids packed and ready to return to the orphanage.”

  “That’s so sad. And pretty cold. What kind of woman is she?”

  “A busi
nesswoman, it seems.”

  Carly slowly shook her head. If the children didn’t have anyone to love and care for them, no wonder her father had felt sorry for them and wanted to bring them to the States. “I hope the nanny didn’t abuse or neglect them.”

  “They seem to be well fed and healthy. And we haven’t seen any cuts or bruises. So my guess is that she did all right by them.”

  That was a relief. Her father wasn’t the only one who’d had a soft spot for disadvantaged children. Of course, he’d always put his wallet where his heart was, making large donations to charities that funded various programs for kids.

  He hadn’t actually gotten personally involved, though. And that had been true with his own children. She wondered what made Camilla’s twins different.

  Had he known that Camilla was a single mother and that there wouldn’t be anyone to look after her kids? That seemed likely.

  “Will you tell Braden that I found them?” Jason asked.

  “Yes, of course. But just so you know, his mother called me a few minutes ago. His grandfather passed away during the night, so I told her I’d let you know.”

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “It was expected.”

  “I know it was, but Mr. Miller was a good man—and more of a father to Braden than our dad ever was.”

  Jason had that right. And while she and her brothers had been as different from each other as the three mothers who’d borne them, they’d been raised by the same dad who’d provided for every financial need they’d ever wanted, often neglecting the emotional ones.

  The line went silent for a moment. Then Carly asked, “When are you coming home?”

  “In a day or two. But I have a couple of business issues to take care of in Houston, so I’ll have to stop by the corporate office first.”

  “At Rayburn Enterprises?”

  “No, at Rayburn Energy Transport. There’s talk of a strike, and I’d like to settle things before they get out of hand. But I may have to be there for a while. I just hope Braden was able to find someone to adopt the twins. I can’t keep them forever. Besides, I have plans to take Juliana on a real honeymoon.”

  Carly doubted that Braden had found anyone yet, and with his grandfather’s passing, he probably wouldn’t be searching for a while.

  Gosh, she hoped Jason didn’t ask her to take on the twins, especially when she had a baby of her own on the way.

  For the briefest moment, she considered sharing her baby news with her older brother, but she opted to hold off a little while longer. They hadn’t been especially close in the past, although that seemed to be changing now that their dad was gone. But Jason might not like the idea that she and Ian weren’t married, or that they hadn’t decided where a baby would leave the two of them.

  “I’ll let you know when we get back to the States,” Jason said.

  “Okay. Take care.”

  When the call ended, Carly returned to the bedroom, her hand resting on her bare tummy. As long as she didn’t announce she was expecting, she didn’t have to think about the future and how the baby would fit into her plans.

  And the longer she could put off discussing her future plans with Ian.

  * * *

  As the day wore on, Ian knew he couldn’t avoid Carly indefinitely. He’d already checked all of the pastures as well as the pump he and the boys had fixed earlier, so there wasn’t any other reason for him to stay away from the house.

  When he finally rode into the yard, Carly stepped out onto the front porch as if she’d been waiting for him. She was dressed in a loose-fitting white sundress, the skirt billowing. Her pretty legs were bare—and so were her feet.

  The breeze kicked up a strand of her hair, whisking it across her face, and she brushed it aside. She looked as pretty as a picture. Whether she knew it or not, she was a living, breathing part of the Leaning R. And he couldn’t help thinking how nice it would be to return home to her each day.

  As he dismounted, she approached him and his bay gelding, as though eager to talk. Had he misread her last night? Had she not been drawing away from him?

  “Shannon called,” she said. “Gerald Miller passed away last night.”

  “That’s too bad.” Ian swung down from his horse. “But he was pretty sick and in pain.”

  “They said he passed peacefully.” The wind picked up another strand of her hair, and this time, when she swiped it aside, she tucked it behind her ear. “I just got back from the Miller ranch. I fixed Braden and his mom a casserole and baked a cake. I also offered to help in any way I can.”

  “That was nice. I’m sure they won’t feel like cooking for a while.”

  “That’s what I thought.” She placed her hands on her hips and blew out a sigh. “While I was there, Braden told me that he’s going to sign the listing agreement. So it looks like the Leaning R will go on the market within the next week.”

  “You’re still going to sign, right?” Ian asked.

  She nodded. “I can’t run this place on my own. Besides, I’m not planning to stay in Brighton Valley forever.” She studied him as though she was waiting for him to object or to bring up the baby, but he didn’t do either.

  “I’m sorry your family isn’t going to keep the place,” he said, lifting his hat and readjusting it over his mussed, sweat-dampened hair. “But I’m glad you all agreed to sell.”

  “Why? I’d think you’d be worried about losing your job or having to work for someone new.”

  Ian proceeded to remove the saddle from his bay gelding. “Did Jason tell you that Ralph Nettles had a buyer interested in purchasing the ranch?”

  “Yes, he mentioned it. If that’s true, then it should sell quickly, which I suppose is good.”

  Ian placed the saddle and blankets over the top rung of the corral. “Well, I’m the buyer Ralph Nettles was talking about.”

  Her brow furrowed, the news clearly taking her by surprise. “You?”

  Apparently she still saw him as a simple cowboy, which ought to bother him, but how could it? He’d never revealed his life in Nashville. “Believe it or not, I’ve already got the offer ready to go.”

  Disbelief—or maybe distrust—twisted her expression. “Can you pull it off? I mean, my brothers are going to want top dollar, and I don’t think they’ll be willing to carry paper.”

  He didn’t need them to extend him any kind of credit. He’d made some sound investments and still had plenty of royalties rolling in. “It just so happens that I have a little nest egg put aside.”

  Her brow furrowed deeper still, as she no doubt pondered what “little” meant to him.

  What she didn’t realize was that he could probably pay cash for the place—unless they were actually asking a lot more than it was worth. But he’d already gone over the figures with Mr. Nettles, and he figured it would work out okay.

  “Well, then,” she said, giving a little shrug, “I guess that’s good news. I’d rather see the ranch go to you than to a stranger.”

  “You’re still welcome to come home anytime you want. I’ll keep the guest room ready for you.” He offered her a smile, an olive branch of sorts.

  “Thanks. I might take you up on that.” Then she slowly turned and made her way back to the porch. As she placed her hand on the railing and her foot on the first step, she paused and turned around. “I forgot to mention that I talked to Jason and got an update from him.”

  That wasn’t what he’d expected her to say, but apparently she had some news to share. “How’s the search going?”

  Carly told him about the twins, the money-minded nanny and the plan to return with the twins soon. After bringing him up to speed, she turned and continued into the house.

  The fact that she hadn’t mentioned eating dinner together didn’t go unnoticed. But he wasn’t
going to make any speculations when it came to Carly. She had to do what she thought was right.

  And so did he.

  * * *

  Carly felt a little dumbfounded as she returned to the house. Ian planned to buy the ranch?

  The idea had blindsided her because she hadn’t expected him to have saved up enough money for a sizable down payment. He seemed to think he had it all figured out, though.

  She hoped he was right. Because even though his game plan seemed to come out of the blue, she actually preferred to have him take ownership rather than someone she didn’t know.

  But now he would be even more tied to Brighton Valley and the Leaning R than ever. So where did that leave her and the baby?

  She’d hardly given her thoughts room to breathe when she heard her cell phone ring. The customized ringtone told her it was her mother.

  After reaching her cell, which had been charging on the maple bureau in the bedroom, she answered the call. “Hi...” Raelynn nearly rolled off her mouth, but she opted for a belated “Mom.”

  Raelynn’s voice came out in a rush. “Are you doing all right, honey? I had the weirdest dream last night. You know I never give that stuff much thought, but on the outside chance that something was wrong, I thought I’d better call.”

  “I’m fine. So whatever dream you had wasn’t a premonition.”

  “That’s good. I’d dreamt that you went for a ride on a pretty little pinto pony. But when it reared up, it turned out to be one of those rodeo horses your brother Braden raises on the Bar M. The crazy, snorting, red-eyed beast bucked you off, and you broke your neck. It was so real that I woke up in a cold sweat.”

  “Everything is okay here, but oddly enough, Braden’s grandfather passed away last night.”

  Raelynn’s breath caught. “Oh, that’s too bad. What happened? Don’t tell me he was thrown from a bronco and killed.”

  “No, he had cancer. He’d been fighting it for a while.”

  “What a shame. He seemed like such a nice man. I’d like to send flowers or something. When are the services?”