A Baby for the Texas Cowboy

by Sinclair Jayne

  “Why bother coming, Mother?” Tinsley tried to keep her face and tone pleasant.

  Tinsley reached for anger to smother the hurt she should no longer feel.

  Anders had been more supportive and loving—yes, loving—than either her father or her mother, and his family had welcomed her. Even when he was on the road with the tour, they’d invited her to dinner and to swim and to ride horses.

  Her mother couldn’t even hug her after five years. Her mother hadn’t even held her when she’d run home shocked and crying and bruised. Instead her mother had forced her back into the town car to go apologize to John and beg him to return the six-figure engagement ring she’d thrown at him.

  But Tinsley had run, leaving everything behind except her purse.

  “What are you doing here? Why waste your advantages and education to serve swill to hick tourists?”

  “I am happy,” Tinsley said, keeping her voice low and grateful that her mother, although cold, calculating and cutting, was not one to make a public scene.

  That brought her mother’s astonished attention back to her.

  “Dear Lord. You look like you got a boob job.”

  Tinsley cringed. The last thing she wanted to do was tell her mom she was pregnant. Even though she was only in her second trimester, she didn’t want to subject her baby to her mother’s derision.

  “Please tell me why you are here, mom.”

  “John asked me to come.”

  “Why?”

  Please let him, if not be happily married, at least not be thinking of divorce. John and her parents had many investments together and served on the same boards. And both her father and John had political aspirations.

  “John saw a video of you.”

  “And?”

  Her mother looked like she’d just had a lime shoved in her mouth. Amazing she could make an expression after all the facials, Botox, and nips and tucks.

  “Did you really let some cowboy slurp whiskey off your breasts in public?”

  “Oh, that video. It was a whiskey promotion. I was modeling,” Tinsley improvised.

  Her mother was stunned into blessed silence.

  “I am not quite sure what to say,” her mother finally said. “Are you really that broke?”

  “No. I earn a great salary and I enjoyed marketing spirits and now I’ve added wine events and tasting room manager to my portfolio. The whiskey shot was just for fun.”

  “Fun?”

  “You can Google it.”

  “Don’t be snide.”

  “You’re right. Now that you’re here would you like to try Verflucht’s reserve flight?”

  “Certainly not.”

  But no, her mother continued to study the room as if it both dissatisfied and bewildered.

  “Mom,” Tinsley reached out a hand to touch her mother’s smooth, small-boned hand, but her mom pulled away.

  “John doesn’t want a problem,” she finally said. “He has moved on. He’s married and has a son Jackson and a daughter Madison. His wife was back on her Peloton two days after the birth.”

  That sounded way too soon. Pushing out a baby looked painful in TV shows, and Tinsley still couldn’t bring herself to think about the actual birth part of this unplanned pregnancy, but she was pretty confident there would be no sitting on an exercise bike her first morning home—definitely later though as Tinsley loved feeling healthy and fit.

  “Why would there be a problem?”

  “More videos.”

  “I’m not a porn star.”

  “We did our best long ago, to scrub your presence from our lives, as has John, but he is running for governor and will likely win. Your father may be nominated to be an ambassador, and we don’t want any kiss and tell stories or more videos of our former daughter to surface online. You made a terrible accusation about John to me, and of course I never repeated it, but I don’t want to hear another word about him except that you wish him and his family well. And I’d prefer you to stay out of the public eye.”

  “I work in the hospitality industry.”

  “Nowhere, Texas, doesn’t count.”

  So much was hitting her right now that Tinsley couldn’t begin to process it.

  And then the door to the tasting room opened, and her past and present and future imploded as the most beautiful cowboy in all of Texas sauntered in the with a smile like the sun rising, and sparkling eyes bluer than a Texas spring sky.

  *

  Anders was on top of the world.

  He was heading to Vegas for the finals. He and his best friend were being pitted against each other as rivals. Kane’s retirement announcement had kicked everything to a higher level, which just made Anders that much hungrier for the win.

  Personally, his life was even better. He and Tinsley had had their third doctor’s appointment, and the baby and Tinsley were doing well. She was no longer avoiding talking about the baby or trying to hide her changing figure, and he figured that meant she was happier, becoming more comfortable with their future.

  He’d stopped pushing marriage and having her move out to the ranch, but he hadn’t given up. He was biding his time, wooing her, and the woman he was getting to know was even sexier, smarter and more entrancing than he had a right to aim for.

  He swung open the tasting room door, feeling like a cowboy of old—he wore his new custom chaps he’d picked up this morning. They were comically flashy and looked ridiculous out of the arena, but bull riders were cowboy rock stars and he wanted to show off.

  Tinsley had a thing for him in chaps, and he wanted her to remember what she was missing over the next few days.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said, swaggering in to the tasting room like he owned it. He hopped up on the bar, bracing himself on his hip, kissed her and then pushed himself back to standing. “Ma’am.” He tipped his hat to the beautifully coiffed woman in pink who looked like an ice cream cone.

  He smiled.

  And then he realized there was more tension between the two women than he’d ever experienced on top of a chute when a rider was about to drop down on a restless, rank one hundred percent bull.

  “You.” The woman took a step back and then another. She pointed at him, and her pale skinny finger shook like she’d seen a ghost. Was that diamond even real? It was dang near the size of a cow’s eyeball. “You’re that…that…cowboy in the whiskey ad taking a…what do you call it?” Her face twisted like he’d jammed half a lemon in her mouth and squeezed it. “A shot off my daughter’s breasts like she’s a human table.”

  “Your daughter?” Anders repeated, feeling like he’d just been spun around and bucked off into the dirt before he’d even got his seat.

  “She was, but her father and I are no longer claiming her as such, so there’s no money in it for you, if that was your plan.”

  What was she talking about? He didn’t need anyone else’s money. And then it hit him. Tinsley had lied to him about her parents being dead, although if this was her mom disowning her for working in a tasting room, he could understand why she hadn’t wanted to trot out her mother. And then something else made sense—why she hadn’t wanted his money or anyone else’s. She wanted to make it on her own. Tinsley and he were so similar. If this woman had made her do a song and dance for every crumb growing up, he now understood Tinsley’s fierce protectiveness of her independence.

  Tinsley had lied—or at least not corrected his mistaken assumption, and he’d given her every opportunity. That hurt. But he’d deal with those negative emotions later.

  Anders held out his hand. “Ma’am, I’m Anders Wolf.”

  “So?” She looked from his extended hand and around the tasting room. “Do you work here when you’re not—” she waved her hand “—playing cowboy? Dear Lord, is there a lunch show where you ride around looking like that?” Her eyes goggled at his custom and very snazzy chaps.

  “Mom, he’s one of the top bull riders in the world,” Tinsley said in a low, tense voice.

  “That’s a
job?” Tinsley’s mom sounded astonished.

  Tinsley was pale, with two slashes of color across her cheeks. She also had reddish-pink splotches on her neck and collarbone that she got when she was angry or embarrassed. Tension was not good for Tinsley or the baby, and all his protective instincts flared.

  “Ma’am, welcome to Last Stand and my brother’s tasting room. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said in his most charming Texas drawl that he knew wouldn’t work on her. He doubted anything could; however, this woman was Tinsley’s mom, his child’s only hope for a grandmother. He wanted to try his best to mend any bridges if that were possible.

  “I am a bull rider with the AEBR, but I also own a third share of Ghost Hill Ranch, one of the largest spreads in Texas.” Money and ownership would be the one thing she might understand. “I also own a half of Cowboy Wolf Whiskey and a quarter share in Four Wolfs Distillery with my brother.”

  “You do?” Tinsley stared at him. “You never told me that.”

  No. He hadn’t. He hadn’t wanted her to feel pressured when he’d made his move on her after debating for months about asking her out.

  “He’s your boss? You let your boss drink whiskey off your…” The woman waved her skinny, bejeweled hand with the diamond encrusted watch that screeched money clasped on her fragile-looking wrist. “That sounds like sexual harassment, but in the video you were smiling. How dare you accuse John of…” She snapped her mouth shut.

  This was going to escalate, and while the tasting room was in a lull, Anders didn’t want Tinsley to have to face any town gossip if a local happened to stop in to chat. “Let’s have a seat over there.” He indicated a quiet area where this morning Tinsley had hung art from a local artist. “We can get to know each other. Would you like a class of…?” What would someone so clearly snobby like to drink? “Bubbles or a glass of sparkling water?”

  He couldn’t imagine her drinking water from a tap.

  “No thank you,” she said, not following him.

  “Did Tinsley tell you our good news?”

  Tinsley’s eyes widened.

  Damn.

  But what else would a daughter talk about with a mother she hadn’t seen in a while? And why hadn’t she told him her mom was still alive and criticizing her from what he could see. Or maybe she was ill. Or another family member was ailing.

  “I can’t imagine any good news you two would have,” Tinsley’s mother said, then her attention pivoted back to Tinsley. “You’re pregnant,” she hissed. “By a cowboy.”

  She swayed, and Anders fearing the woman might faint, helped her to a chair.

  “I think I’ll have that mineral water now. And chardonnay. Please.”

  Tinsley pulled a bottle of sparkly from the fridge, added two round designer ice cubes to a glass along with a slice of lemon and lime. She brought it to her mother, who took a drink. The ice rattled in the glass.

  “I’m sorry if the news is a shock, Mrs. Underhill.”

  “Mrs. Underhill-Whittaker.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Anders said.

  She sipped at the water, without looking at him. Tinsley brought her a glass of pinot blanc. “You’ll like the crispness and subtle fruit of this wine,” Tinsley said, sounding a little robotic and Anders winced.

  He felt torn in two. He wanted to support Tinsley, but he was angry and hurt that she’d lied to him. Sure not all families got along. But to deny their existence after he’d felt like they were finally making progress as a couple was a blow. It was hard to sit there and say nothing.

  What else would he learn today about the mother of his child? About the woman he’d held in his arms every night he’d been back home in Last Stand for the past month?

  “I can’t believe it,” Tinsley’s mom said. “Rejecting the son of a governor for this…this…” she waved wildly at Anders and the tasting room “…this half-life.” She’d finished the water and she grabbed almost desperately for the wine. She drank it down like she had the water and put her glass down with a sharp thunk.

  “You’re not getting any money, not a penny.” Her mother stood.

  “I don’t want your money or Daddy’s,” Tinsley said. “I don’t need it, and I’m pleased John is married to a woman who suits, and that they have two healthy children. I’m happy he’s following the path he wants. I’d never interfere with that. I’m happy here,” Tinsley said. “I’m happy.” Her voice changed, almost sounded surprised.

  “How that could be true I’ll never understand.”

  “You never understood me. Never. And I tried, Mom. I did try.”

  “Not hard enough.”

  “Ma’am,” Anders said, taking Mrs. Underhill-Whittaker’s hand in his as gently as he could when he didn’t feel gentle at all. Too many questions crawled around his brain.

  “Stop ma’aming me,” she snapped and tugged her hand free.

  “Can I drive you somewhere, Mrs. Underhill-Whittaker?”

  “No. I have a driver.” She glared at Tinsley, and Anders. “And I don’t expect to hear from either of you about—” her eyes dipped briefly to Tinsley’s abdomen “—anything again.”

  Anders, who could barely remember his mother but had heard nothing but beautiful and sweet memories and stories about her, could hardly wrap his head around a mother behaving like this toward her only daughter. Rejecting her and rejecting her grandchild.

  It made his head hurt and pulverized his beliefs about women, mothers, his “perfect wife list,” and the life he’d hoped to build with Tinsley to dust beneath his boots.

  Tinsley’s mother stood up, brushed imaginary dirt from her coat and headed out the door just as several couples walked in, laughing. She walked through them as if they were invisible; one of the men hurried to hold the door open for her.

  Tinsley looked like she was going to be sick.

  “Why don’t you sit, and I’ll see your mother out.”

  Tinsley winced at the words.

  Anders hurried outside, but Tinsley’s mom was already being helped into a dark town car. She didn’t look at him as the chauffeur shut the door.

  He watched the car drive away down Main Street. Now what? He turned to return to the tasting room, his earlier good mood totally evaporated. Tinsley had followed him outside.

  “Any other surprises for me?”

  “No. Yes. Anders, I don’t even know anymore.”

  He strode up to her. “You lied to me about your parents being dead.”

  She nodded, swallowed. Her arms crossed over her chest, and then with an effort, she unfolded them and held them to her sides.

  “I didn’t exactly lie, but I didn’t tell you the truth. I have no excuse, Anders. I have spent five years running from my past, trying to rebuild myself and my confidence and figure out who I am and who I want to be.”

  “I can’t have lies between us, Tinsley.”

  “I know. I don’t want any lies either. I grew up with lies. I was engaged to lies.”

  “We are having a child. I want to raise that child with love and acceptance, and to believe in themselves.”

  “Me too,” she said quickly. “I never had that.”

  That much was true. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to let it go. But he should, shouldn’t he? Tinsley deserved his loyalty, but he deserved hers.

  “Your family is so warm—your brothers, Cruz and Catalina, they have welcomed me. They are excited about the baby. Even Diego.” Her voice rose and then was choked off by a sob. She sucked in a shaky breath. “All I’ve heard about your mother is how loving she was, how wonderful, how gentle and kind, and I never had any of that. None of it. I’m afraid I don’t know how to be like that.”

  The sense of betrayal cut deep, but even through that he felt her pain.

  “You already are, Tinsley.”

  She gnawed on her lip and watched as the town car disappeared down the road.

  “But I have to have honesty from you,” he said. “If you’re scared, you come to me. If you’re unhap
py, you take it up with me. If I upset you, you tell me. If I piss you off, you kick my ass and let me know what’s wrong. No more silence. No more secrets. And until you can promise me that, we have nothing to say.”

  “Anders,” she whispered.

  “Think on it. Take your time. I want to be upfront with you. I want us to marry. I want us to live on the ranch in the house with my brothers or a house we build for ourselves if that’s what you want. I want us to communicate our feelings, our thoughts and our goals. I want honesty and fidelity. But if you don’t want that, if you can’t come to me and promise me that and mean it, then we have nothing. We can go your route and figure out a custody arrangement.”

  She stared at him like he was a stranger. He felt like he was—to her and her to him.

  “I have to get to the airport. I have to be lasered-focused this week. I don’t want to talk about what happened today. I don’t want to talk until after the finals and you know what you want.”

  She nodded and wrapped her arms around herself again. He hated leaving her like this. Hated it. But he had a final to win, and Tinsley had a decision to make.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tinsley bounced on the balls of her feet backstage at the AEBR finals. It was nearly time to take their seats for the final round. The long weekend had been a fun-filled celebration that had her on the edge of her seat—not just because of Anders’ rides on his way to victory but also because she was on the brink of the best decision of her life.

  She was choosing hope.

  She was choosing love.

  She was choosing Anders.

  Anders and Kane Wilder had arrived at the finals tied for first place, but as Axel explained it, it could be any bull rider’s win. She’d seen Anders ride before when she’d been working in the sponsor tent and had slipped in to watch. It had been as thrilling as it was terrifying. Anything could happen. “Eight seconds of adrenaline-fueled crazy” Cruz had called it.