Читать книгу The Maverick's Ready-Made Family - Brenda Harlen, Brenda Harlen - Страница 10

Antonia usually waited until most of the boarders had left before she started clearing the tables, and when she returned to the dining room today, she saw that aside from Clay and his son the room was completely empty. As she began to stack plates, she could tell that Clay was on the phone, and though she wasn’t trying to listen in, she couldn’t help overhearing bits and pieces of his conversation.

And then she heard him say, “I love you, too.”

The words, spoken with easy affection, made her pause with a handful of cutlery in her fist. But before she could even begin to speculate about who might be on the other end of the line, he added, “Mom,” and she let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding.

It wasn’t any of her business, of course. And she really hadn’t intended to eavesdrop. But when she glanced over as he disconnected the call, his gaze met hers and she knew that she’d been busted. Her cheeks filled with color.

He pushed his chair back as she picked up the stack of plates. “Let me get those for you.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

“They’ve got to be heavy.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “I’ve been working on this ranch since I was a kid. Before I got pregnant, I was mucking out stalls and training horses. I think I can handle a stack of plates.”

“You’ve been carting plates and platters from the kitchen since 6:00 a.m.,” he pointed out. “Why don’t you sit down for a minute?”

“Because these dishes won’t put themselves in the dishwasher.”

Bennett banged his cup on his tray, then held it out to her.

“I think somebody wants more juice.” Just a couple of weeks earlier, Clay had told her that he’d introduced the little boy to apple juice diluted with sterile water. Since then, Antonia had ensured she always had some on hand. “Can I get him a refill?”

“Sure,” Clay agreed.

The baby smiled at her as she took his cup, and her heart melted.

“Coming right up,” she promised.

While she was in the kitchen refilling Bennett’s drink, Clay gathered up the rest of the dishes still on the table.

“Are you trying to get me fired?” she asked, when she returned with the juice.

“I don’t think you’ll lose your job because you let someone else carry a few plates into the kitchen,” he chided.

He was right, of course, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that she was used to doing things for herself—she preferred doing things for herself. And she’d learned a long time ago that if she didn’t depend on anyone else, she didn’t have to worry about being disappointed.

Bennett took the cup and yawned.

“Are you ready for a nap already?” she asked.

His only response was to lift his arms up to her.

She hesitated, because every time she picked him up, she never wanted to let him go again. But Bennett was clearly tired of being strapped in his chair and, based on the sounds emanating from the kitchen, Clay was thoroughly occupied with the dishes and not planning to return to the dining room anytime soon.

With a sigh that was more resignation than reluctance, Antonia removed the tray from Bennett’s chair, unfastened his belt and lifted him into her arms. He curled into her easily, his head dropping against her shoulder, his eyes already drifting shut.

She’d never thought it was possible to fall in love so quickly and completely, but since the doctor had confirmed the news of her pregnancy, Antonia had realized that none of the usual rules applied to babies. She didn’t know if it was their innocence and vulnerability or her own maternal instincts, but she’d always had a weakness for children. From the moment she first suspected that she was pregnant, she’d been overwhelmed by emotion. And the first time Bennett had looked at her with his big blue eyes, she’d been hooked.

Now, with the slight weight of his body in her arms and the subtle scents of baby powder and shampoo teasing her nostrils, that hook snared her heart even more deeply.

She ventured into the kitchen and confirmed that Clay was loading up the dishwasher. Not with the skill or efficiency of someone who had a lot of experience, but he was getting the job done.

“Why don’t you take Bennett back to your room for a nap and let me do that?” she suggested.

“He doesn’t sleep for more than fifteen or twenty minutes after breakfast,” Clay told her. “So if you could sit with him for a little bit while I finish up here, that would be great.”

“Why don’t you sit with him while I finish cleaning up?” Antonia countered.

“Because I’m almost done here,” he pointed out.

His logic was indisputable and, with a sense of relief she refused to let him see, Antonia settled into one of the wooden ladder-back chairs beside the old kitchen table.

Bennett snuggled in, rubbing his cheek against her shirt, and Antonia’s heart gave another squeeze.

She didn’t know anything about the little boy’s mother—who she was or where she was. She only knew that in the five weeks that had passed since Clayton Traub had showed up at Wright’s Way with his son, she hadn’t heard a single word about the woman who’d given birth to the darling little boy. And she had to admit, the lack of information made her curious.

Not any of your business, she mentally admonished herself.

Just like information about her baby’s father was no one’s business but her own.

“He’s never taken to strangers,” Clay noted. “But there’s no doubt that he likes you.”

And because it was too good an opening to resist, she ignored her own admonition to herself and said, “Maybe I remind him of his mother.”

“Not likely,” Clay said. “Considering that he hasn’t seen her since he was two weeks old.”

She looked up, startled by this revelation. “Why not?”

“She decided a baby was too much to handle and she left him with me and moved to California.”

Antonia was stunned.

She couldn’t imagine any mother choosing to walk away from her child. Her baby wasn’t even born yet and she knew there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him or her. But of course she didn’t say any of that to Clay, she said only, “Why California?”

“To be a movie star.”

“She was an actress?”

“A much better one than I ever suspected,” he noted wryly.

She didn’t have any trouble picking up on the undercurrents in that response. “It must have been difficult—to be on your own with a newborn.”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” he admitted. “I hadn’t planned on becoming a father at this point in my life and I knew absolutely nothing about babies. In fact, I’m not sure either Bennett or I would have made it through the first few weeks without my mom.”

In many ways, Clay’s story was similar to her own. She hadn’t planned on becoming a mother at this point in her life, either, and while she wouldn’t say she knew “absolutely nothing” about babies, her experience was limited. But unlike Bennett, her baby wouldn’t have a grandmother to help them through the rough patches.

She shifted her gaze away, so Clay wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “You’re lucky to have her,” she murmured.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I forgot that your mother passed away.”

She nodded. “Two years ago.”

“I bet you miss her.”

“Now more than ever,” Antonia admitted.

Lucinda Wright had been more than a parent. In a lot of ways, she’d been her best friend, and Antonia missed her gentle guidance and sage advice. Mostly she missed the way her mother always knew when she was worried about something, she missed the comforting weight of the arm she would put across her daughter’s shoulders and the confidence in her voice when she promised that everything would work out for the best.

As her baby shifted in her belly, Antonia wanted desperately to believe her mother’s promise, but right now she didn’t have a clue what would be best for her baby.

Clay didn’t see his brother again until later that night. Aside from the twice weekly group therapy sessions at the hospital, he wasn’t sure what Forrest did to occupy all the hours in his day. Then again, some people probably wondered what Clay did to fill his days, but anyone who had ever been responsible for the full-time care of a baby wouldn’t need to wonder. Bennett kept his daddy hopping 24/7.

He was in the common room on the main floor of the boarding house, watching a National League playoff game, when Forrest came in with a bowl of popcorn and a couple bottles of beer. Sometimes the room was so crowded it was impossible to find a chair, but most of the boarders started work early in the morning and, consequently, retired to their rooms early at night—particularly at the beginning of the week. So tonight, Clay had been alone with the ball game until his brother joined him.

He accepted the bottle Forrest handed to him and took a long swallow before setting it on the coffee table beside the baby monitor.

“Ben’s asleep already?”

“It’s almost ten o’clock,” Clay pointed out.

Forrest looked disappointed.

Clay hadn’t been thrilled when his brother enlisted, but he understood that Forrest wanted to serve his country and that it was his decision to make. But when he came home, it was apparent to everyone that the injury to his leg wasn’t the deepest of his wounds.

And yet there had been rare moments when Clay caught glimpses of the easygoing brother he remembered. There had been a few more of those moments since they’d come to Thunder Canyon, illustrated by good-natured teasing and dry humor. But the clearest evidence was in his brother’s interactions with Bennett. The little boy was the only one—at least so far—who had proven capable of breaching all of Forrest’s defenses.

“There was a time when he didn’t settle down until midnight,” Forrest recalled.

“Then I wised up and stopped letting him nap after dinner.”

“If you kept him up later at night, he wouldn’t be awake so early in the morning.”

Clay shrugged. “I’m used to starting the day early.”

“Do you miss it?”

Forrest was asking about the work he’d done on the family ranch back in Rust Creek Falls, and Clay nodded. “I miss the physical labor, the satisfaction that comes from getting a job done, and I feel guilty as hell for leaving Dad, Dallas, Braden, Sutter and Collin with all the work.”

“You didn’t have to come to Thunder Canyon to babysit me,” Forrest told him.

“I didn’t come to babysit you,” Clay told him. “I came because I couldn’t stand being the center of attention every time I took Bennett into town. It was as if no one had ever known anyone who was a single father before.”

“Try being the wounded war hero,” Forrest told him. “People tiptoed around me as if my gimp leg was contagious—or maybe it’s the rumors of my PTSD that freaked them out.”

“Not everyone was freaked out,” Clay reminded him. “In fact, Marla James only wanted to show her appreciation for the sacrifice you made for our country.”

Forrest tipped his bottle to his lips, but Clay saw the color rise in his brother’s cheeks.

“I still haven’t decided whether I should thank you or kick your ass for deflecting her attention,” he finally said.

Clay just grinned.

Marla James’s crush on Forrest had been something of a legend in Rust Creek Falls. Her family had moved into town the summer before she started fifth grade, and on the first day of school, she’d set her sights on Forrest Traub and had never looked back. It didn’t matter how many times he brushed her off or how many other girls he dated, she remained adamant that they would one day be together. When Forrest returned from Iraq, she decided that day had finally come.

She stopped by the Traub Ranch at least once a day to check on her injured hero. Forrest—wounded more deeply than the scars on his leg—wasn’t even kind in his dismissal of her efforts, but Marla refused to be dissuaded. Not until Clay, with feigned embarrassment and reluctance, implied that his brother’s injury had affected more than his leg and that he wasn’t able to appreciate what she was offering.

Marla had cried genuine tears over that, but her lifelong love for Forrest clearly was not as strong as her sexual desires.

“You could always call Marla up and tell her you’re all better now,” Clay teased.

“If only that were true,” Forrest said.

And Clay knew his brother’s comment had nothing to do with the fabricated injury. Which was why Ellie was so worried about her son, and why Clay had to do everything he could to keep his promise to his mother.

“Bennett and I are going to take a drive to Billings for a farm auction in the morning to check out a tractor that’s on the block. Did you want to come with us?”

Forrest just shook his head and munched on a handful of popcorn.

“Okay,” Clay said easily. “How about dinner at D.J.’s Friday night?”

His brother looked up at that, his gaze narrowing. “Friday is three days from now,” he noted. “Since when do you plan that far ahead?”

So much for thinking that he could slip anything past Forrest. But instead of answering the question directly, he only shrugged, as if his brother’s response was of no concern to him. “If you’ve got a hot date and don’t want to go, just say so.”

Forrest lifted a brow. “Well, I’ve had so many hot dates recently I’d have to check my calendar to know for sure.”

“You do that,” Clay advised.

His brother mimed thumbing through a little black book. “I have Skinny Ginny penciled in, but I can reschedule. At least at D.J.’s, I’ll get some meat on my ribs.”

“I’m glad to see your sense of humor is still intact,” Clay noted. “Even if it’s deeply buried most days.”

Forrest looked away. “Just ‘cause I said I’d go out with you Friday night doesn’t give you the right to turn this into some touchy-feely moment.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Clay assured him.

“Good.” Forrest tipped the bottle to his lips and shifted his gaze back to the television.

D.J.’s Rib Shack in the Thunder Canyon Resort was usually busy, especially on a Friday night. While Antonia waited for her friend Catherine to arrive, she glanced around the restaurant with its sepia-toned pictures of cowboys and an extensive mural that depicted a visual history of the town. But more than the décor, it was the scent of D.J.’s famous sauce thick in the air that assured the customers packed into the benches and booths that they would enjoy genuine Western barbecue.

Antonia breathed in deeply, inhaling the rich aroma, and the baby kicked in approval—or maybe it was demand. If Antonia was hungry, it was a good bet that her baby was, too.

“I feel like Pavlov’s dog,” a familiar voice said from behind her. “I just walk through the door of this place, and my mouth starts to water.”

Antonia laughed and hugged her friend. “I know what you mean.”

The hostess led them to a booth against the back wall.

When the waitress came, they ordered right away, both familiar enough with the menu to know what they wanted. Fifteen minutes later, they were digging into plates laden with saucy ribs, fresh-cut fries and tart coleslaw. Antonia had considered ordering the daily vegetable option rather than fries, but the baby wanted fries and she’d learned not to ignore the baby’s demands. If she indulged now, she wouldn’t find herself raiding the fridge at three o’clock in the morning.

“I can’t remember the last time I was here,” Antonia admitted, popping a fry into her mouth. “Which proves that it’s been way too long.”

“I’m glad you finally hired someone else to serve dinner at the ranch,” Catherine said. “We haven’t had a girls’ night out in far too long.”

“You’ve been even busier than I have. As if getting Real Vintage Cowboy up and running wasn’t enough, you had to go and fall in love with Cody Overton and get married.”

Catherine grinned. “I guess I have been busy.”

Antonia sat back, licking rib sauce off of her fingers, and assessed her friend. Tonight she was wearing a lacy white blouse over a long, flowing skirt with well-worn cowboy boots on her feet. Her long, dark hair hung loose over her shoulders and her chocolate-colored eyes glowed with a happiness that seemed to radiate from deep within her.

“But you look happy, Mrs. Overton. As if married life agrees with you.”

“I am happy,” Catherine agreed.

“And I’m glad that Cody turned out to be the real deal,” Antonia said, and meant it.

She was genuinely thrilled that her friend had everything she’d always wanted—both professional success and personal happiness. But seeing the vibrant glow on Catherine’s face, Antonia couldn’t deny that she felt a twinge of something that might have been envy.

She had no cause for complaint. She was content with her life, grateful that things had started to turn around at the ranch so that their finances weren’t stretched quite as tight as they’d been a few months earlier. But she was also conscious of the fact that, despite living with her father and her brothers and with a baby of her own on the way, she was alone.

“I just wish you could find someone like him,” her friend said. “Someone genuinely wonderful and kind and smart and sexy.”

“I don’t think there is anyone else like Cody.” But even as Antonia said the words, she realized that there was another man who at least came close. A man who doted on his son, who wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty in the kitchen, and who had an easy sense of humor and a quick smile. A man whose mere presence made every nerve-ending in her body stand up and take notice.

And then Clayton Traub walked into the restaurant with Bennett in his arms.

Not just Clay, she realized, but his brother, Forrest, too. But Antonia knew there could have been a parade of men, all of them tall and handsome, and it still would have been Clay who drew her attention.

“There’s someone out there for you,” Catherine insisted. And then, aware that her friend’s attention had wandered, she turned her head to see the two men making their way to the private dining room in the back.

“Oh, my,” she said in a reverent whisper. “Or maybe there’s someone in here for you.”

Antonia couldn’t blame Catherine for her reaction. The first time she’d set eyes on Clayton Traub, she’d felt the exact same way. And neither time nor familiarity had done much to dim her reaction. But she had learned to ignore the physiological response—most of the time, anyway.

“I swear, the testosterone level in here just shot through the roof.” Catherine turned back to her friend. “So tell me—which one of those very sexy cowboys caught your eye?”

Antonia felt her cheeks flush. “Neither of them.”

“Liar.”

“I do know them,” she finally admitted. “Clay and Forrest Traub. They’ve been staying at Wright’s Way.”

“Now I know why you haven’t been coming into town very often. The scenery is obviously much better at the ranch than I remembered.”

“They are nice to look at,” Antonia acknowledged.

“Nice?” her friend scoffed. “Those are real vintage cowboys.”

“How do you know?”

“You can tell by the way they carry themselves—the strength, the confidence, the swagger.” She fanned her cheeks. “Those men have it in spades. And there’s just something about a man with a baby in his arms that somehow enhances his masculinity.”

“Newlywed,” Antonia reminded her friend.

“Newly and blissfully wed,” Catherine agreed. “But the ring on my finger hasn’t rendered me blind.”

“Proven by the fact that you did notice the baby he was carrying.”

Catherine winced. “His?”

Antonia nodded.

“Married?”

She shook her head.

“Then what’s the problem?” her friend demanded. “He’s a single dad, you’re a soon-to-be single mom—”

“Yeah, and I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t be attracted to me.” Antonia’s dry tone was accompanied by a pointed glance at her round belly.

“Are you kidding? Do you ever look in the mirror? You’re gorgeous, Antonia.”

“And that’s why you’re my best friend,” she told Catherine. “Because you can actually say things like that with a straight face.”

Catherine sighed. “Okay, tell me about him.”

“I don’t know a lot,” she admitted. “Just that he’s from Rust Creek Falls, he came to Thunder Canyon in September and he has an adorable six-month-old son named Bennett.”

“His brother’s the one who started that dog therapy group for veterans, isn’t he?”

“Along with Annabel Cates, soon-to-be Annabel North,” Antonia clarified.

“Love has definitely been in the air in Thunder Canyon,” Catherine mused. “And maybe, if you just took the time to breathe …”

“I’ve got a baby on the way that I already love more than I ever could have imagined,” Antonia told her friend. “I don’t want or need anything more than that.”

“Don’t you think it’s important for a child to have a daddy?” Catherine asked.

“In a perfect world, of course,” she agreed. “But right now, I’m more concerned about being the best mother that I can be than finding a father for my baby.”

“You’re going to be a wonderful mother,” her friend assured her.

Antonia hoped she was right, but she had so many questions and doubts—and no one she could talk to the way she’d always been able to talk to her mother. Catherine was great, of course, but her friend didn’t have any experience when it came to pregnancy or childbirth, so she couldn’t know anything about the worries and insecurities that plagued Antonia.

A mother’s worries never went away.

Ellie Traub could attest to that. Even when her boys were grown—as all of hers were—she never stopped worrying about them. She’d had moments with respect to each of her boys, although Clayton had always given her more cause for concern—at least until Forrest had shipped out to Iraq, but that was something she wouldn’t let herself think about right now.

Right now, she was focused on Clayton and her plan to get him back to Rust Creek Falls. The fourth youngest of her six sons and just as handsome as his brothers, Clay had done well in school, excelled at sports and had been popular with the girls. Maybe too popular.

He was a hard worker, she’d give him that, and he’d happily toiled on the family ranch alongside his father and brothers. He’d also boasted a very active social life, dating a lot of women over the years, although not any one woman extensively or exclusively. Certainly he’d never brought anyone home to meet the family, and when he hit his twenty-ninth birthday, Ellie had begun to despair that he never would settle down.

She’d only voiced her concerns to him once, at which time he’d confirmed that he was enjoying life too much to think about getting married or starting a family. And then an ex-girlfriend had shown up with a baby in tow.

There were worse things, Ellie knew very well, than having a son who’d fathered a child out of wedlock. But she worried that Clay’s refusal to marry the mother of his child was further proof that he wasn’t ever going to grow up and take responsibility. On that point, he’d quickly and definitively proven her wrong.

She couldn’t fault him for making his son his number one priority, but now that he’d proven to be so intently focused on his child, she did worry that he was ignoring other aspects of his life. A man needed a wife—and Bennett needed a mother—and she doubted that Clayton was going to find any prospects to fulfill either role while he was living as a recluse at some boarding house on the outskirts of town.

She had Bennett in her arms and was returning to the back room that D.J. had reserved for their family gathering when she saw the little boy’s eyes light up and his arms stretch out as if reaching for something. Curious, she turned to see what had caught his attention, and found the answer wasn’t a “what” but a “who”—a very attractive female who.

“You’ve got an eye for the pretty ladies, just like your daddy, don’t you?” she murmured.

But Ellie noticed that the pretty lady was looking right back at the baby and smiling. She gave a little wave. “Hi, Bennett.”

Ellie moved closer to her table. “I guess you know my grandson.”

The young woman nodded. “I’m Antonia Wright. Your sons and grandson are staying at my family’s ranch. And this is my friend Catherine.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you,” Ellie said, instinctively noting that while Catherine’s left hand displayed an exquisite diamond solitaire and matching wedding band, Antonia’s hand was bare.

She found herself wondering why neither Clay nor Forrest had mentioned that there was a gorgeous, unattached woman living at the ranch where they were staying. A woman who had obviously bonded with Clay’s infant son.

Actually, she was sure that Forrest was oblivious to both Antonia’s beauty and her gender. She was equally sure that Clay was oblivious to neither. And she started to think that it might not be such a bad idea for Clay and Bennett to stay in Thunder Canyon a little while longer.

“Do you know what? I think I forgot my lipstick in the ladies’ room,” she said to Antonia. “Would you mind if I left Bennett with you for a sec while I go back to get it?”

“Of course not,” the young woman agreed, rising from her seat to take Bennett into her arms.

It was then that Ellie realized the situation might be a little more complicated than she’d thought.

Because while Antonia Wright might not have a ring on her finger, she definitely had a baby in her belly.