by Marin Thomas
He rubbed his ear, thinking he’d heard her wrong. “You’re staying all summer?”
“I changed my plans.”
Gunner didn’t care what her reasons were for not leaving; he was just relieved he had more time to prove himself to her.
“I’ve got things under control the next couple of days while Karl’s gone. Why don’t you try to find a new client or two right here in Stampede?”
“I doubt anyone in town is looking for a room makeover.” She opened the door. “Are you rodeoing this weekend?”
She still didn’t believe him after he’d told her he was taking a break from the sport until the motel was finished. “Didn’t plan on it.”
“You’d rather work on bathrooms than ride a wild horse and have pretty women fawn over you?”
“I admit breaking broncs is more fun than breaking tile, but as far as pretty women go...” His gaze bore into her eyes. “The only woman I want drooling over me is standing on the other side of this room.”
“You don’t have to pretend, Gunner.” She jutted her chin. “We’re too different, and if we let this become something more between us for the sake of the baby, we’ll have an even bigger mess on our hands.”
If he protested too much, Lydia would dig her heels in or, worse, change her mind and return to Wisconsin before the end of the summer. “Since I’m the father, don’t you think we should get to know each other better?”
“I think we know each other pretty well already.”
He pointed to her tank top. “I didn’t know you were a fan of flamingos.”
She smiled.
He set down his tools and closed the distance between them. “You better go back to your aunt’s and change clothes unless you want to stay in your pj’s all day.” He escorted her out to the car and then opened the driver-side door for her. “Have you made an appointment with a doctor?”
“Not yet.”
“You need to have blood work done to check for chlamydia, gonorrhea, hepatitis B, syphilis, cystic fibrosis, Rh factor and HIV. They might even do a urine culture and a Pap smear.”
At her wide-eyed gape he winked. “Chapter two in the baby book.” Then he added, “There’s strawberry-lime-infused water in the mini fridge for you when you stop by next.” He’d found the recipe online when he’d searched healthy drinks for pregnant women.
“What about room 1?” Lydia pointed out the windshield. “When do you plan to move out?”
He wasn’t giving up his bachelor pad.
“Having six rooms to rent instead of five could be the difference between making your bills at the end of the month or not.”
“I know your aunt believes the motel will be full every night once it’s spruced up, but unless people have a reason to pass through Stampede, it ain’t gonna happen. Besides—” he grinned “—I like room 1 the way it is.”
Aside from being a bachelor pad, the room had special memories of him and Lydia making love on the bed and he wasn’t about to allow strangers to tarnish those memories.
“If you’ve got nothing better to do tonight, you want to come watch me umpire a Little League game?” he asked.
“I guess I could tag along.”
She didn’t have to sound so enthusiastic. “Meet me here around five thirty. We’ll grab a bite to eat before the game.”
She nodded. “Call me if you run into any trouble today.”
“I’ve got everything under control.” He watched the Civic drive away, thinking he had a long way to go to win her over.
* * *
“I’LL BE UP in the attic if you need anything, Aunt Amelia.” Lydia climbed the staircase to the second floor.
“I’m off to meet a friend for lunch. The Cattle Drive Café has half-price burgers on Fridays.” Her aunt paused by the foot of the staircase and looked up. “Why don’t you come along?”
And subject herself to strangers’ stares? Everyone in town knew she was expecting Gunner’s baby. “No, thanks. Since you suggested converting the attic into a playroom, I’m going to work on ideas for the space.”
“You can’t hide in this house forever, dear.”
“I’m not hiding. Tonight I’m going to watch Gunner umpire a Little League game.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear you two are spending time together.”
There was little use in trying to convince her aunt that she had no intention of marrying Gunner, so Lydia saved her breath.
“I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating. Don’t worry about money when you work on your designs.”
No one knew exactly how wealthy her aunt was, but Lydia’s parents surmised the older woman had a few million in investments and savings accounts.
“Make it a fun space so Sadie will want to visit with the boys.”
“Us girls had just as much fun playing in the attic when it was nothing but dust and junk.”
“Girls know how to use their imaginations. Boys need more direction.” Amelia waved. “Have a good time tonight.”
Lydia opened the door at the end of the hallway and climbed the narrow staircase to the third floor, then pulled the string hanging from the naked lightbulb in the middle of the room. She’d need to hire Karl to put in proper outlets and lighting.
As her eyes took in all the nooks and crannies, a warm tingle spread through her limbs. She fixated on the stained-glass window at the opposite end of the room and recalled how she and her cousins had pretended they were princesses trapped in a castle tower with a magic window.
She zigzagged between pieces of furniture draped with sheets—recognizing the school desks her aunt had purchased at an estate sale years ago. She tugged off the covering, then squeezed herself onto a miniature seat and imagined her little girl or boy drawing pictures.
Then her smile wilted—she couldn’t think about the baby without thinking of Gunner. Last night she’d suffered an attack of insomnia—it was really a panic attack, but she preferred to call it otherwise.
She’d woken in a cold sweat but couldn’t recall a thing about the nightmare except that she and Gunner had been arguing—probably about his wanting to help raise their baby. When a trip to the bathroom and a glass of warm milk hadn’t helped her fall back asleep, she’d grabbed her car keys and had driven to the motel, thinking Gunner would be there. But his pickup hadn’t been in the lot.
Instead of returning to her aunt’s house, she’d remembered the diffuser and essential oils that Gunner had purchased and decided to see if they’d help her relax. She must have fallen asleep a few minutes after settling into the rocking chair, because the next time she’d woken, Gunner had been standing over her.
She pressed a hand against her heart, recalling the way the muscle jumped inside her chest when he had come into view. She blamed her reaction on the lavender oil, because she wasn’t ready to face the truth—that she was falling in love with her baby’s father.
It didn’t matter how many promises Gunner made to her and the baby; he couldn’t change who he was and he shouldn’t have to. Her plan to protect her heart by avoiding him would never work, because the simple fact that she carried his baby entitled him to be involved in their lives. Attending the baseball game with him tonight would be an opportunity to practice shoring up her defenses around the cowboy, because it wouldn’t take much effort on his part to make her fall under his spell and imagine the three of them as a forever family.
Lydia got up from the desk and stretched out on the antique fainting couch. With her eyes closed, thoughts of Gunner drifted away, replaced by images for a playroom. Her cell phone rang, interrupting her creative process.
Sadie.
Lydia wasn’t ready to reveal her pregnancy to her cousin. “Hey, chica, what’s up?”
“Nice to know you’re still alive.”
“I’ve been texting yo
u since I arrived at Aunt Amelia’s.”
“It seems like you’ve been gone forever. I’ve missed you.”
“I miss you and the boys, too. But things are busy with the motel and—”
“Lydia, I called because I need to vent.”
More than happy to steer the conversation away from her, Lydia said, “I’m all ears.” A loud exhale drifted into her ear. “Is it work?” The dental office where Sadie was the manager employed young hygienists who loved to gossip and the dentist had appointed her cousin the peacekeeper among his crew.
“No, this time it’s my screwed-up life that’s the subject of gossip.”
“What happened?”
“It’s Pete.”
“What’s going on with him?”
“He came into the dentist office yesterday and announced in front of everyone that he’s moving to Baltimore.”
“Why?”
“The woman he’s been dating got a job offer there and he’s decided to go with her and her kids at the end of July.”
“What about his own job at the insurance company?”
“He said he’ll look for something new once he’s settled.”
Poor Sadie. Pete had never held down a job for more than a year.
“He asked if I’d give him a few months’ grace period on child-support payments.”
“I hope you said no.”
“I did, and he called me a selfish bitch in front of Dr. Michaels.”
“Then the dummy should have found a job first before deciding to move with his girlfriend.”
Another deep sigh came through the connection. “What’s really the matter?” she asked.
“I don’t know how to tell the boys.”
Lydia’s first thought was that the twins wouldn’t care, because Pete rarely came to their soccer games and never kept his sons for a weekend at his apartment. “I doubt Tommy and Tyler will miss him.”
“Maybe not, but their feelings will get hurt when they realize their father chose to be a dad to someone else’s kids and not them.”
“Maybe you should tell the twins that their father got a job someplace else and leave it at that.”
“I would, but Pete wants the boys to visit him on Thanksgiving this year.”
Uh-oh.
“I don’t want to share my sons with another woman. Is that selfish of me?”
“Of course not. You’ve practically raised the boys by yourself. Pete never helped, even when you were married.”
“Too bad the courts don’t agree. They believe it’s better for kids to have contact with both parents even if one is a jerk.”
Lydia smiled. “I wish I could give you a hug.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t worry about Thanksgiving. Pete could move in with this woman and then get sick of her kids or leave her for someone else.” Sadie had given her ex another chance when she’d discovered he’d cheated on her, but after the second time she’d thrown him out.
“Tell him you’ll consider his request for the boys to visit as long as he doesn’t bring the subject up with them until you say it’s okay.”
“Good suggestion.” Sadie sniffed. “You’ll make a great mother someday, Lydia. You always keep your cool in tough situations, and believe me, raising kids is challenging, and then when you add an ex-husband into the mix, every decision becomes an argument.”
Lydia wished she could tell her cousin she was one month pregnant as of yesterday. But it wasn’t the right time.
“And why is it that Pete can date all he wants, but when I go on a date, I feel like I’m betraying the boys.”
“Maybe it’s better that he’s moving away. Out of sight out of mind, you know?”
“If Pete had taken an active interest in his kids and had spent time with them, I’d support his move to Baltimore.”
Sadie droned on about her ex’s shortcomings, but Lydia wasn’t listening anymore. Her thoughts had shifted to Gunner. As much as she worried he might break her heart, she was more concerned about the well-being of their baby’s heart. She didn’t want her child to wake up one day and hate her for having interfered in their relationship with their father. She’d pay a heavy price if she kept Gunner on the sidelines of their child’s life.
“Lydia?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry. I know you’ve heard all this before, but if I don’t complain about Pete to someone—”
“Don’t apologize. I just wish he wasn’t causing trouble.”
“I need a vacation. Is there room for me and the boys at Aunt Amelia’s house?”
Oh, no. “I’m sure she’d love to have you three visit.”
“Maybe someday. When are you coming home? Not to put any pressure on you, but the boys miss seeing you at their soccer games.”
“I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be here,” Lydia hedged.
“Shoot.”
“What is it?”
“Pete pulled up to the house. Wish me luck.”
“Everything will be okay. The boys have you no matter what happens.”
“Thanks. I needed to hear that. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
After Lydia disconnected the call, she left the attic and returned to the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of cold water. She sat outside in the shade on the porch and stared at the oleander bushes. Was she coming down too hard on Gunner?
The phone call with Sadie was a reminder of how much children needed both parents—not just a mother. Sadie did her best to be both mother and father to the boys, but playing sports and catching frogs weren’t her forte and the little tykes were missing out on the kinds of adventures only fathers could think up.
Gunner wasn’t the most talented rodeo cowboy or most reliable motel manager, but in the last month he’d shown more interest in raising a child who’d yet to enter the world than Pete had shown his sons the past four years.
Chapter Eleven
“You’re out!” Gunner called the third strike on the eleven-year-old who was famous in the league for swinging at every pitch no matter where it crossed the plate. While he waited for the next batter to put on his helmet, he glanced at the stands behind the chain-link fence.
Lydia sat in the middle of the bleachers next to two women who looked as if they were talking her ear off. When Lydia’s head tipped back and she laughed, he forced himself to relax. He’d been worried she’d grow bored sitting on the metal seats for two and a half hours. When they’d arrived at the ballpark, they’d both eaten a hot dog. Then Lydia had taken her bottle of water and gone off to join the other parents. He’d called her back and asked for a good-luck kiss, but she’d rolled her eyes and walked away. Had he known Bobby Yonkers was eavesdropping, he wouldn’t have asked Lydia for a kiss, because the adolescent mimicked Gunner’s voice every time he came up to bat.
The redheaded freckled-faced teen took a practice swing in the batting circle, then grinned at Gunner when he stepped up to the plate. “Don’t even think about it,” Gunner said, trying to keep a straight face.
While they waited for the catcher to strap on his gear, Bobby mumbled, “Can I have a good-luck kiss?”
“Watch it, kid—the strike zone just got smaller.”
The boy’s chest shook with laughter. Gunner hollered at the catcher to hurry up, and when the boy crouched behind the plate, Gunner signaled the pitcher. The first ball crossed the plate high and inside, forcing Bobby to jump back to avoid being struck in the shoulder.
“Be careful, Bobby,” Gunner said. “Mason’s having trouble controlling his arm tonight.”
Bobby backed away, took a practice swing, then choked up on the bat. The second pitch came straight down the gut, and in an attempt to bunt the ball, Bobby stepped too
far forward and got hit. He dropped to his knee, clutching his arm.
Mason glared at Bobby, then threw down his glove and ran toward home plate. “He stepped in front of my pitch on purpose!”
Bobby got to his feet and threw his helmet to the ground. “Did not!”
“Did, too!”
“You suck at pitching!”
“You suck at hitting!”
Neither team’s coach stepped forward to control his player, so Gunner handled the situation. “My time-out,” he said. He grabbed both kids by their shirtsleeves and pulled them aside.
“Okay, guys, here’s the deal. You two are the best players in this league, but every time your teams compete, you stir things up. What gives?” He glanced between the players. “Bobby?”
“He thinks he’s hot shit—I mean crap.”
“No more than you think you’re hot crap,” Mason said.
“The problem is you’re both hot crap and you know it. Your parents know it. The other parents know it. And the high school coaches across the field who came to watch you know it.”
“The high school coaches are here?” Mason glanced behind him. “Where?”
“See the two men wearing red T-shirts by the concession stand? The short man is the varsity coach and the taller man the JV coach. You’re both good enough to make varsity when you get to high school, but if the coaches don’t think you two can get along, then one of you is gonna be stuck on JV.”
“Won’t be me,” Mason said.
“Won’t be me,” Bobby said.
Gunner stared at the boys. “You have a chance to be on the same team all four years of high school. You two alone could carry a team to a championship. Instead of trying to best one another, why don’t you try to make each other better?”
When neither kid spoke, Gunner said, “Here’s the deal. You shake and let bygones be bygones or I throw you both out of the game.” He nodded to the stands. “Your parents make sacrifices twice a week so you can come out to the ballpark and have fun. You think they’ll keep supporting you if all you do is fight on the field?”
“No,” both boys said.
“What’s your call?” Mason asked Gunner.
