Having the Cowboy's Baby

by Judy Duarte

  Still, as the seeds of suspicion had sprouted, she cut them off at the root. There was no reason to believe Ian was pulling a fast one and trying to rope her into a situation she didn’t want to be in. Her father might have pulled a stunt like that, but Ian wouldn’t.

  “I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Braden said. “Once you and Jason sign the listing agreement, the ranch will be on the market. And then we can see what kind of an offer Ian makes.”

  And what kind of man he really was, she supposed.

  “How soon do you think Jason will be able to sign the paperwork?” Braden asked.

  “Within the next couple of days, I would guess.”

  Braden stroked his chin. “Do you think he and Juliana would consider keeping the twins—at least for a while?”

  “That’s a lot of responsibility for newlyweds to take on,” Carly said.

  “Maybe you can take them until we find a permanent home.”

  “Me?” Carly raised her hand, palm out. “Oh, no. Don’t even go there. I wouldn’t be any good with kids.”

  “Who says?” Braden smiled, then added, “Besides, you’d better get some practice if you’ll be having one of your own.”

  That was true. She placed her hand on her tummy, which seemed to be growing bigger each day. She was just beginning to wrap her heart and mind around the changes taking place in her life. But she wasn’t ready to add non-English-speaking twins to the list.

  At the sound of an approaching vehicle, Braden said, “Speak of the devil. Here comes your baby daddy now.”

  Devil?

  Again, Carly shook off her suspicion. Ian had been nothing but sweet and supportive. How could she possibly think he had any ulterior motives?

  * * *

  Ian arrived at the Bar M early. As he pulled into the drive, he spotted Carly and Braden talking in the yard.

  He’d barely climbed from his truck when Braden’s mother walked outside with a well-dressed man in his mid to late forties and joined them.

  Ian was struck by how pretty Shannon Miller was. He’d never seen her fixed up before, with makeup on and with her brown hair soft and loose around her shoulders. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was Braden’s older sister.

  When Ian approached and offered his condolences, Shannon introduced her friend Dr. Erik Chandler. “He’s been incredibly supportive these past few weeks. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

  The doctor slipped his arm around her waist, making a show of solidarity.

  Ian liked seeing that. His grandparents leaned on each other through the good times and the bad. He’d noticed them talking in soft whispers, eyes glimmering and lips quirked in a smile. And he’d seen them cry together when their dog Buddy had died. To this day, they held hands when they took their afternoon walk.

  He hoped Carly would learn that she could lean on him as the months wore on—or even the years. With a baby on the way, their lives would be entwined forever.

  “Erik hired a caterer to fix the food, to set it out and to clean up afterward,” Shannon said. “So there isn’t much for us to do now except wait for people to arrive.”

  Dr. Chandler gave her a gentle squeeze. “You’ve been through enough already. And you’ve carried a heavy load for a long time. You don’t need to worry about making sure everyone else is taken care of on a day like this.”

  Their smiles and his gentle touch implied they were more than just friends. If so, Ian was happy for her. From what Granny had told him, she really hadn’t dated after Braden was born. And he’d found that to be sad.

  “When things settle down,” Shannon said, “Erik is going to take me to Hawaii for a vacation.”

  At that, Braden brightened. “I’m glad, Mom. You’ve spent your entire life looking out for me, Grandpa and the ranch. And that’s not to mention all the time you poured into the church. You’ve always focused on others, so it’s time you took a vacation and enjoyed yourself.”

  “Thanks for understanding, honey.” Shannon placed a loving hand on Braden’s sleeve. “For the time being, we’d better focus on getting through today.”

  A car sounded in the distance, and they turned to see who would be the first to arrive.

  Ian took the opportunity to steal a glance at Carly, but instead of looking at the approaching vehicle, she was studying the older couple as intently as he’d been. Their friendship—or whatever they might call their particular relationship—was warm and loving as well as enviable.

  In fact, their bond appeared to be the kind a couple made after supporting each other through life’s ups and downs. Could she see that some relationships could be loving and strong?

  As Carly continued to watch Shannon and Erik, Ian could have sworn he spotted a longing in her eyes. He wanted to assure her, to tell her to give him and her time and a chance to become a couple and a family.

  But now wasn’t the time, and this wasn’t the place.

  * * *

  On Monday morning, Carly told Ian she was going to shop for baby furniture so she could fix up a nursery in what had once been Granny’s sewing room.

  He was relieved to hear of her decision and as much as he wanted to go with her, he didn’t want to crowd her, especially since she planned to stick around for a while. So he was content to let her go alone.

  Besides, he had plenty lined up to do today. Todd and the boys were going to start on the new fence he wanted to build in the south forty, and he figured it was best if he rode out with them.

  By noon, they’d measured the field he planned to enclose, and he’d lined the teens up to start digging post holes. He probably should have waited until the property was officially his, but he wanted a place to keep the new calves he planned to buy.

  While the hands took a lunch break, he rode back to the house to order the lumber and material they would need. He’d no more than entered the yard when he spotted a sleek, black limousine parked near the house.

  He swore under his breath. There was only one person who could have arrived in a luxury car like that, and he braced himself for a strained reception as the chauffeur opened the door for Felicia Jamison.

  “Just look at you,” the red-haired country music star said as she exited the limo. “I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself. Mac McAllister—in all his dusty, cowboy glory.”

  Ian rested a hand on the pommel, but he remained in the saddle. “I might have shaken off the dirt from my boots and cleaned up if I’d known you were stopping by.”

  “I certainly would have given you fair warning—if you would have left me a phone number or a forwarding address.” She splayed her manicured hands on her hips. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had been trying to avoid me for the past three years.”

  Damn. Why couldn’t she have just let him be?

  He bit back his frustration as well as his disappointment at seeing her. “Why would I do that? You’re the prettiest stalker I’ve ever met. And the most famous.”

  “Actually,” Felicia said as she approached him and the bay gelding he rode, “I let you slip off my radar for a while. But I need another big hit, and you’re the only one who’s ever been able to write with my voice and style in mind.”

  That was a fact. It had been his music and lyrics that had sent her to the top of the charts time and again. And she hadn’t had an album go platinum since he ended their relationships—both personal and professional.

  “I didn’t think you were serious when you said you didn’t want to perform anymore. But I realize now that you meant it back then.”

  He still meant it.

  “But, Mac,” she implored, “you don’t have to go on tour with me anymore. You can write songs here. And just to make the offer more tempting, I’ll pay you twice the going rate if you’ll come up with
something special for me to sing in Los Angeles next month.”

  “I’m sorry, Felicia, but I’m not interested in furthering your career.”

  She stiffened. “You certainly hold a grudge.”

  “You’re wrong. I let the past go years ago, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t learn a lesson along the way.”

  She offered him that little pout that used to work its charm on him. “Performing with me wasn’t that bad, and you know it.”

  The hell it wasn’t. He’d had to down several shots of tequila just to get through each day—a bad habit that might have become much worse, if he’d let it. But he bit back his objection.

  “You can play rancher all you want,” she added. “All you need to do is write one or two songs a year for me. With your talent and my voice, we’ll go platinum again. I know it as sure as I’m standing here looking at you.”

  The anger and resentment he’d held toward her had disappeared a long time ago, but not his mistrust. And that alone had been enough for him to bow out of the public eye forever.

  Felicia eased closer and placed her hand on the gelding’s neck. “Come on, Mac. Climb down from there and let’s talk about this on even ground.”

  There’d never been a level playing field between them, and it had taken Ian a while to learn that the fun-loving country girl on stage wasn’t the real Felicia.

  He didn’t like being pressured, as had become Felicia’s habit. It had only worked on him at first—until he knew the real woman behind the glossy red hair and big blue eyes. He soon got sick and tired of the energy it took to deal with all her demands, so he’d dug in his boots, which had frustrated her to distraction.

  About the time he decided to cut bait and find a new band, she’d gotten pregnant. He hadn’t been able to leave then. And for a couple of weeks, he’d thought they’d have to see a counselor so they could work things out. At least, that had been the idea until she’d chosen to abort the baby.

  “Mac, honey.” Her Southern twang deepened. “I know you haven’t quit singing or playing. Or writing music, for that matter. It’s in your blood. And strumming your guitar is how you wind down at night. You probably have a slew of new songs all ready to go.”

  He merely stared at her, yet he didn’t swing down from his horse. He knew where this was going. She’d cozy up to him and make it sound as if they were long lost lovers who’d just stumbled upon each other. But this wasn’t a chance meeting. She’d sought him out—probably thanks to the performances Carly had insisted they take part in recently. But he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of dismounting and meeting her at her level.

  “You plannin’ to make that little blonde a star?” she asked.

  So he was right. She’d seen photos of him and Carly, probably on those damned posters the mayor had printed and stuck up all over the county.

  “Nope. I’m not making anyone a star—nor am I helping anyone remain on top of the charts.”

  “I see.” Felicia took a couple steps back. “You must be sleeping with her.”

  The assumption, which came out as an accusation, raked over him, but he wouldn’t give her the pleasure of a reaction. “That’s none of your business, Felicia. You moved on a long time ago.”

  “A girl can make a mistake, can’t she?”

  “Didn’t you hear me? I’m not interested. I’m not about to repeat the past or work you into my future.”

  She crossed her arms again and shifted her weight to one hip. “That’s a shame. You’re wasting your talent.”

  Ian remained in his saddle, looking down at her. He’d seen her snub other musicians and singers on occasion, and it served her right to be on the other side of a brush-off.

  “Don’t you miss it?” she asked, her twang nearly nonexistent now. “The excitement, the glamour, the bright lights, the roar of the fans?”

  “Nope. I don’t miss it a bit.” That wasn’t exactly true. He still felt the magic of creating a brand-new tune and finding just the right words to go with it. But it had been nice to watch a crowd’s reaction when his words and music struck something deep in their hearts.

  “That blonde girl,” Felicia almost spit out. “What’s her name? Carly something? She probably thinks she’s hit the big time now that she’s met you.”

  “She knows better.”

  But Carly didn’t really know who Ian was. The other day she’d asked him how he knew what it was like on the road. He could have revealed himself then, but he’d decided to wait until they came up with a satisfactory game plan for raising a child together.

  At the time, he’d been afraid that, if Carly knew his true identity, she’d really pressure him. And he hadn’t been about to let her force his hand. But it was time to tell her now.

  In the meantime, he had to get rid of Felicia.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta go. I’m meeting some hands out in the south forty. So you’ll have to forgive me for leaving. I’m sure your driver can get this vehicle turned around on his own.”

  Then he jabbed his heels into the gelding’s flanks and rode off, hoping Felicia would leave just as quickly.

  Chapter Eleven

  On her drive back to the ranch, Carly turned the radio up and sang a duet with Martina McBride. She hadn’t been in this good of a mood for a long time.

  She was pleased with her baby furniture purchase, which would be delivered to the ranch next week. Yet a single shopping spree hadn’t appeased her desire to nest. If anything, it only made her want to start turning the old sewing room into a nursery as soon as possible.

  If she’d had more time before her doctor’s appointment this afternoon, she would’ve swung by the hardware store to look at paint samples as well as the fabric shop so she could choose the perfect print for the new curtains she planned to sew herself.

  Imagine that. She was actually getting excited about having a baby. And in just an hour or so, she hoped to learn whether she would have a boy or a girl. The doctor hadn’t had time for the ultrasound at her last visit, but it was scheduled for today.

  She probably should have driven straight to the clinic, but she decided to stop by the ranch first so she could tell Ian what she’d done. She knew he’d be glad to hear that she was looking forward to getting a nursery ready for their child. And that she was even considering the possibility of making a home together.

  Of course, she wouldn’t agree to marriage unless he could convince her that he truly loved her. But who knew what time would bring?

  While at the house, she planned to freshen up and maybe change into one of her new tops and a pair of comfy, loose-fitting jeans before heading to her appointment. The slacks she had on today were too snug and so was the blouse, even though she’d left the last button undone.

  If Ian was around, she would invite him to go with her to the doctor’s office. He’d probably like to see the ultrasound of their baby.

  Since things had been up in the air before, she hadn’t mentioned the test or the appointment to him. But now that they were... Well, not that they’d made any major decisions about their future, but they seemed to be falling into their Mommy and Daddy roles. And learning the sex of their baby together seemed like the right thing to do.

  As she drove down the long, graveled drive to the Leaning R, she spotted a black limousine parked near the front porch, and her grip on the steering wheel tightened.

  Had her mother come to visit? Raelynn would be the type to drive up in a limo. But she was supposed to be in London, so it couldn’t be her.

  The limo was turning around, as if leaving the house, but as Carly arrived, the driver pulled over. So she parked her pickup next to it.

  Her dad used to own a limousine, which was a corporate vehicle now. Maybe Jason and Juliana had arrived in it. However, the Rayburn car had personalized license plates, so it couldn�
�t be them. Well, not unless Jason had rented a limo after he arrived at the airport.

  There was only one way to find out who it was. So she climbed from the pickup, leaving her shopping bag in the cab. She grabbed her purse and shut the door, just as the chauffeur exited the limo and proceeded to let his passenger out.

  Carly watched an attractive redhead step out wearing snazzy cowboy boots, designer jeans and a denim jacket with a load of fancy sparkles. Dressed like that and riding in style meant she had big bucks.

  As the redhead turned and faced the pickup, recognition dawned, and Carly’s breath caught. What in the world was Felicia Jamison doing here?

  Had Raelynn set up some kind of surprise for Carly? Had her mother actually used her connections to give her daughter’s career a boost?

  Carly had told Raelynn that she didn’t need her help, but she wouldn’t have objected if her mother had been insistent.

  “Hi there,” Carly said as she closed the pickup door and smiled. “What can I do for you?”

  Felicia crossed her arms and, wearing a slight grin, gave Carly a once-over. “So you’re the singer Mac hooked up with.”

  “Mac? I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  “Mac McAllister, my old guitarist and song writer.”

  Carly blinked, hoping to catch up quickly and to connect the dots. “Do you mean Ian McAllister?”

  “That’s his given name, but he goes by Mac in music circles.”

  Music circles? Carly’s head began to spin as if she were going to have another fainting spell, but it was just her thoughts swirling in her head.

  “I...uh...” Carly nodded toward the barn. “His truck is here, so I suspect he’s out in the south pasture. He said something about digging post holes and building a fence.”

  Felicia unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her denim-clad hips—her tight jeans a size two, no doubt. She wore gold bangles and a diamond bracelet on her wrist, and her fingernails sported a French manicure with square tips.