Читать книгу A Baby Changes Everything - Marie Ferrarella, Marie Ferrarella - Страница 7

“H ey, I’d given up on you two.”

Vanessa Fortune Kincaid threw open the door on the first ring and immediately hugged her dearest friend in the world as the latter began to cross the threshold. Stepping back, Vanessa took a closer look at Savannah Perez and decided that she didn’t like what she saw. Savannah’s bright, sunny smile was conspicuously absent.

Ushering her five-year-old son, Luke, in front of her, Savannah sighed. Luke hadn’t stopped talking or moving since he’d opened his eyes this morning. The word lively, she had come to believe, had been created expressly to describe her son.

Savannah forced her lips into a weak smile. It was the best she could offer her friend. “You wouldn’t be the first one.”

Vanessa had dropped down to one knee to give her godson a huge embrace. The boy smelled faintly of raspberry jam and peanut butter, his sandwich of choice. “How’s the handsomest man in three states?”

Luke beamed. “Fine, Aunt ’Nessa.”

He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, just like his father, and cocked his head, his dark eyes huge as he asked, “Got something for me?”

“Luke!” Embarrassment brought the only visible color to Savannah’s pale cheeks. “You don’t ask someone to give you a present.”

“I’m not ‘someone,’” Vanessa said, winking at the boy. “I’m Aunt ’Nessa.” Rising to her feet, Vanessa waved her hand at Savannah’s protest. They’d been friends far too long to leave any room for embarrassment over imagined neglected niceties.

Vanessa walked to a credenza and opened one small door. “And, as a matter of fact, I do have something for Luke.”

Taking out an object, she tucked it behind her back as she turned to face the boy.

Luke was dancing from one foot to the other, his dark eyes shining.

With a pleasure-filled laugh, Vanessa handed her godson the very latest in action figures. The buffed character breaking out of his painted-on shirt was from a new movie that was yet to be released but was already a hit among the under-twelve set.

Luke gave a loud whoop of joy. “Wow, it’s Big Jake, the monster killer.”

“And he even comes with his own monster to kill.” Vanessa pointed to a lesser figure that was included, easily overshadowed by the hero.

“Wow,” Luke echoed. He tugged at the packaging, eager to get at his prize. Vanessa helped him. Freed of their plastic prison, the two figures popped up into the air.

Savannah shook her head. “You’re spoiling him, Vanessa.”

Luke sat down and was soon happily immersed in a fantasy reenactment of a battle royal between the hero and the monster, apparently oblivious to his mother and her friend.

Watching him, Vanessa smiled broadly. “Hey, I like roaming through toy stores. Shopping for Luke gives me an excuse to be there.” After her miscarriage, she wanted a baby more than ever. Now that her husband, Devin’s, desk job at the FBI only took him away occasionally, there was a better chance to make that happen.

She ruffled the boy’s jet-black hair, then walked over to Savannah, taking a seat beside her on the wide, cream-colored leather sofa. Savannah was huddled to one side, leaning against the upholstered arm as if she intended to use it to help keep her up.

Concern flitted through Vanessa as she sat down. Savannah hadn’t sounded quite like herself on the telephone when she’d asked to come over.

Seeing her didn’t alter that impression.

Vanessa grew serious. “What did you mean when you said I wouldn’t be the first?”

Savannah looked from her son to her friend. “What?”

Vanessa had a pitcher of iced tea standing at the ready on a tray on the coffee table. Without bothering to extend an invitation, she poured a tall glass for Savannah and one for herself. Two bottles of chilled soda waited on Luke’s pleasure.

“When you walked in,” she reminded Savannah, handing her a glass. “I said I’d given up on you two, and you said I wouldn’t be the first. What did you mean by that?”

Wrapping her hands around the glass, Savannah shrugged carelessly. It was a subject she’d just as soon dismiss. But she knew better. Vanessa had a way of hanging on to something once she’d gotten her teeth into it.

Savannah took a long sip of the cool liquid before offering a vague answer. “Just me, feeling sorry for myself, that’s all.”

Vanessa gave her a long, penetrating look. This wasn’t just a passing mood, she thought. This was something more. Was there trouble on Paradise Island? “Want to talk about it?”

Savannah stared at the amber liquid. In the background, Luke’s monster gave a bloodcurdling yell as Jake killed him. “No.”

Vanessa glanced in Luke’s direction to make sure everything was all right. The boy had started a new scenario. She looked back at Savannah.

“Yes, you do,” Vanessa said firmly. Savannah began to protest, but the words never left her mouth, halted by Vanessa’s knowing look. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. You know I won’t leave it alone until you tell me. When you walk in here—” she gestured around the house with her free hand “—or anywhere near me, you do not have the right to remain silent.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice even though she doubted that Luke could hear. He was too busy being Jake and the monster. “Now, what’s wrong?”

Feeling empty, weary beyond her years and lonelier than she could remember being in a very long time, Savannah murmured, “It’s nothing.” She stared again at her tall, frosted glass, noting the tiny rivulets of water had begun to run along the sides.

Like tears, Savannah thought. Just like my tears.

Vanessa frowned. “‘Nothing’ wouldn’t have you looking like a wilted flower.” Her eyes swept over her friend’s form. Five months pregnant and barely a discernible clue from her body. How did she do it? “You’re supposed to be glowing by now.”

Glowing, ha. Most mornings Savannah felt like ashes from a day-old campfire. With a shake of her head, she laughed dryly. “Whoever made that assessment of motherhood was obviously a man. On my best day, I don’t ‘glow.’ I manage.”

And just barely, she added silently. Between doing the bookkeeping for the ranch, handling Luke, morning sickness and the housekeeping, she was coming perilously close to losing it on all fronts. The faster she juggled, the more certain she was that she was going to drop something. Or everything.

But in her heart she knew that if she just had a little support, she could do it.

She might as well be wishing for the moon, she thought sadly.

Savannah could feel her friend studying her. Vanessa always seemed to know just what she was thinking. Now was no exception.

“But it’s not just the pregnancy getting you down, is it?” she asked.

“No, it’s not.” Taking another sip of her iced tea, Savannah put the glass back on the tray. “You know, the police force could use your clairvoyance. You’re going to waste here.”

Vanessa put her hand on top of Savannah’s, forcing her friend to look at her instead of avoiding her eyes. “Stop trying to change the subject. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Savannah knotted her fingers together in her lap, staring down at them.

“Everything,” she finally whispered, so quietly that, even sitting next to her, Vanessa had to strain to hear.

Tears suddenly filled Savannah’s eyes, spilling out. Annoyed, she wiped them away with the back of her hand. “Damn, I still haven’t gotten the hang of riding this emotional roller coaster. You’d think that the second time around would be easier, not harder.” She sighed, feeling as if everything was conspiring against her. But she knew that if only Cruz would love her the way he used to, everything else would fall into place. “There should be a way to put your hormones in cold storage for the duration, get them back after you push out the baby.”

Feeling for her, Vanessa put her arm around Savannah’s small shoulders. “Have you told Cruz what you’re going through?”

Savannah drew back and laughed. The sound had no pleasure in it.

“Cruz?” He was the whole problem, not a solution. Although if he’d only change again… “I’d have to make an appointment to talk to him. And even then he’d probably only break it or, worse, forget to show up altogether.”

Vanessa was very quiet for a moment. There was something in Savannah’s face that had her heart freezing. She tried to read between the lines and hoped fervently that she was wrong. “My God, there’s isn’t another woman, is there?”

Another woman, Savannah thought. If only…

“Well,” she said slowly, “yes, in a manner of speaking there is another woman.”

There might as well have been, for all the time Cruz spent away from the house, Savannah thought. A slight trace of bitterness entered her voice. Who would have thought that the promise of success would do this to them? Money had never meant anything to her. Only love and Cruz had.

“He spends almost all his time with her.” Savannah laughed shortly, recalling the last few months, so awful in their loneliness. “By the time I get him back, he can hardly make conversation, much less act like the man who made my head spin and my pulse race.”

Vanessa curled her fingers into her palms, trying to curb the desire to beat on Cruz even though she’d grown up liking him. Until he’d married Savannah, Cruz had worked on her father’s ranch, the Double Crown. She and her brothers and sister had grown up playing with Cruz and his sisters, calling him friend.

Now she was calling him something a whole lot less flattering in her mind.

“Well, who is she?” Vanessa demanded. “Have you tried confronting her?” She put herself in Savannah’s shoes. “I know if there was some woman who was trying to get her hooks into Devin, I’d knock her into next Tuesday.” She looked at Savannah, suddenly mindful of her condition. It was so hard to remember she was pregnant, given what Savannah looked like. “I could do that for you, you know. You’re pregnant, you don’t want to get yourself upset. But I could certainly handle this bitch for you. What’s her name?”

“La Esperanza.” Hope, that was what he’d named it. Hope, because that was what it represented to both of them. Hope for a new start, hope for the future. And now it had taken all hope away from her.

Vanessa stared at her. “The ranch?” she asked incredulously.

“The ranch,” Savannah confirmed. “Cruz refers to our ranch as ‘she.’” The more she thought about it, the more fitting it seemed. “And La Esperanza is a hell of a lot more competition than any flesh-and-blood woman I ever knew.”

At least, if it had been another woman, she’d like to think she’d know how to compete. But the ranch had been her husband’s dream ever since she could remember. How could she possibly compete against a dream?

“But he’s just doing that for his family. For you,” Vanessa argued.

No, not for her, Savannah thought. Because if it was for her, he would have stopped knocking himself out a long time ago. He would have tried to fit her into his day, into his night, instead of living and breathing work on the ranch.

“He’s doing that for himself,” Savannah said firmly. Ever loyal to the man she loved with all her heart, she softened slightly, as if she couldn’t help but take his side, at least to a minor degree. “Oh, he wants to be a good provider and all, but part of being a good provider is being there in more than just body. And he’s not.” She sighed, looking past her friend, focusing instead on the last few months. Maybe even years, she amended. This had been going on and steadily getting worse for a long, long time. “He hasn’t been for a long while now.”

Trying to lighten the moment and do away with the dark look in her friend’s eyes, Vanessa patted Savannah’s stomach. “Well, he must have been there in body and spirit at least once.”

Savannah shook her head. “I need more than just once. I need more than just a part-time husband, although at this point I’d settle for that. What I have is a husband who’s there ten percent of the time. And usually that ten percent is spent in bed.”

“Quality, not quantity, has always been my motto.”

“Sleeping,” Savannah emphasized. “And although he looks really cute that way…” She looked toward her son, who had once more dropped down onto the rug. Jake was smashing in the monster’s face. “A little like Luke, really. But it’s hard to maintain a two-way conversation with a man who’s doing a fairly good imitation of a corpse.”

Savannah took in a deep breath, knowing that she was coming very close to crying again. That wasn’t why she’d come here. She didn’t want to cry; she wanted to forget about everything for a little while.

“Cruz is up and out of the house before sunrise, back after sunset—sometimes long after sunset.” Sadness twisted her soul. “I have to show Luke pictures of the man just to remind him what his father looks like.”

Vanessa shook her head as she laughed. “C’mon now, you’re exaggerating.”

Savannah sighed. There was sadness in her eyes as she looked up at her best friend. “Not as much as I wish I was.”

Communication was the only way, Vanessa thought. It certainly worked for her and Devin. “Have you told him how you feel?”

Savannah looked at her. Hadn’t she been listening? “I just said—”

“I know what you just said,” Vanessa interrupted, squelching a minor bout of impatience. The solution, or at least a start, seemed pretty clear to her. “That you’d have to make an appointment to see him. Well, make one. Do whatever it takes. Grab him by the arm when he walks in tonight and say, ‘Cruz, we have to talk.’” She waved her hand, as if trying to bring about a magic spell. “And then talk.”

“He’ll probably fall asleep while I’m talking.”

Cruz had done that just the other night. Right after dinner. He hadn’t even got up from the table. He’d laid his head down for a second, just to “rest my eyes,” and boom, he was out like a light. It took everything she had not to put on the radio and blast him. But she hadn’t. She’d gently prodded him to his feet and then, with his arm slung across her shoulders, she’d somehow managed to get him up the stairs and into bed. During the one occasion when he’d been intoxicated and the same thing had happened, he’d pulled her down on top of him and they’d made love.

This time, though, he’d gone straight back to sleep.

Leaving her out in the cold.

“It won’t be the first time,” Savannah concluded, keeping her voice low for Luke’s sake. It throbbed with emotion.

Vanessa glanced at the iced tea container. “Then keep a pitcher of cold water handy and douse him if you have to.”

Despite the situation, Savannah heard herself laughing. “You’re a radical woman, Vanessa Kincaid, you know that?”

Vanessa winked in response. “Maybe, but I get results.”

He had begun to think that today was never going to be over. Since before sunup, the day had felt endless.

Which, he supposed, made it no different from all the others that had come before it in the last few months. His days were stretched to the maximum, filled from beginning to end with work. By the time he finally walked up to the house each evening, Cruz Perez felt as if he barely had enough energy to put one foot in front of the other.

Certainly not enough to sit and talk the way Savannah always wanted to do when he walked in through the front door.

He wished he had the energy she required of him.

He wished she could understand.

Getting the life he wanted for them required a great deal of sacrifice on his part. And part of that sacrifice meant not doing what he would rather be doing.

Which was being with Savannah.

He loved his wife. He really did, he thought as he drove up the winding lane to his house. Loved her with every fiber of his being.

But at the same time, the very sight of Savannah made him acutely aware of all his shortcomings. They came at him from all directions, illuminated with glaring headlights. They made him ashamed, because he couldn’t give her what he wanted to give her.

A woman like Savannah deserved to have things, things he couldn’t find a way to give her no matter how hard he tried. How hard he worked.

He always knew that running a ranch wouldn’t be easy, but he had lusted after it as far back as he could remember. Having a ranch made you your own man, gave you something to make you proud.

If it was successful.

Lately, though, there were more headaches, more bills than there was joy. A lot more.

And then there was the new baby coming—a baby that hadn’t been planned.

Lightning certainly did strike twice, he thought, driving his Jeep into the garage. Getting out, he began to walk toward the house. Luke had certainly not been planned. His firstborn had been the result of a night of passion, the kind that most men only dreamed about.

Cruz’s mouth curved as he remembered. He’d been working for the Fortunes then, with a chip on his shoulder and an army of women trailing after him. He’d had more than his share, but from the first moment he laid eyes on her, he’d seen something special about the quiet beauty who was Vanessa Fortune’s friend.

Savannah was genteel, refined, not like the other women he’d bedded. Women who wanted a wild ride with the rebel stallion, who hadn’t seen him for who he really was. Savannah had looked into his eyes, and he’d felt that she was seeing things inside of him that he had only been wishing were there.

She made him want to be a better man.

Still, when she’d left soon afterward, he’d locked her memory away and gone on with his work, being a horse whisperer. Gone on with his life, bedding every willing woman he came across. But even then, Savannah had haunted the perimeters of his mind, making him long for her even though she was an unattainable dream.

After she’d lost her teaching position in a prim and proper private school, she’d returned, to work for the Fortunes as the Double Crown’s bookkeeper. He’d been stunned to see her belly slightly rounded with child. His child, although pride had her denying it at first.

Pride was the one thing they had in common. Her pride wouldn’t let him marry her out of a sense of obligation, so she’d lied to him about the baby’s father. And his pride wouldn’t allow Savannah to be married to anyone but a success.

It still didn’t.

He was determined to be that success for her. And for his son. Honor demanded nothing less.

He’d expanded on the original ranch’s one hundred acres, buying more land to the east, planning on having more horses, planning to put the name of La Esperanza on the map. This ranch would never rival in size anything the Fortunes had, but in quality…well, that he could strive for. That would be something worthy he could give Savannah and Luke and whoever else was joining the family in six months. No, four, he mentally corrected himself after ticking off the months in his mind.

Damn, it was hard to keep that straight. Hard to keep anything in his life straight these days, what with one thing after another. Just the day-to-day chores were overwhelming now that Paco had left for reasons that had nothing to do with Cruz.

Didn’t matter what the reasons, he thought, walking up to the front door. He still felt the man’s loss. Paco had been with him since the beginning and had remained more out of loyalty than the pay. Cruz was down to three hands. The money he’d set aside to hire a new man had been eaten up by vet bills when one of his mares had been bitten by a rattlesnake. He’d come close to having to put her down, but now she was out of the woods. And he was very close to being out of money.

That left him a man short, with him having to take up the slack, since in clear conscience he couldn’t ask anyone else to do it. He wasn’t that kind of a boss, wanting his hands to do more than he did himself.

It was after nine. The last bit of July daylight had been siphoned off, and night had descended, sitting oppressively over the terrain along with its humidity.

He felt more dead than alive, but he remembered to stomp his boots on the doormat with its faded Welcome sign. He knew how Savannah hated having dirt tracked into the house.

Lately, there seemed to be a lot of things Savannah hated, he thought.

He followed the trail of lights, shutting them off as he went. Electric bills didn’t pay for themselves.

He found her sitting at the table in the small dining room. She turned her face toward him as he entered. The table was set for two.

A sad smile twisted his lips. Savannah had given up setting it for three. Luke had long since gone to bed.

Cruz missed his son. Missed his wife. Missed enjoying his life. But sitting back and enjoying things was for dreamers. Not for men with responsibilities.

Someday, he promised himself, he would be able to kick back a little and enjoy the fruit of his labors, like the Fortune men he’d grown up with. Right now was his time to prosper.

But only if he kept after it.

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Hi,” he said wearily.

Savannah forced a smile to her lips. He looked as tired as she felt, she thought. “You made it home,” she murmured.

His broad shoulders moved in a careless shrug beneath a faded denim work shirt that was damp with sweat. “I always do.”

He said that as if he resented coming home to her, she thought. She took a breath. “Hungry?”

Yes, he was hungry. Hungry for a lot of things. Hungry for more than food. But all his body begged for was some place to drop so that it could finally, finally rest. Cruz shook his head.

“No, I’ll just turn in.”

She looked at the food, which had long since cooled, waiting on his arrival. After leaving Vanessa’s, she’d returned home, determined to be more patient. To be the loving wife she wanted to be. That had entailed making an elaborate Mexican dish her mother-in-law had taught her how to prepare. “But I made your favorite.”

Cruz forced a smile to his lips only because he was too tired to do it naturally. He looked at the meal. Chewing took more effort than he could give it.

“Thanks. Save it for tomorrow.”

She struggled to hide her hurt. He was rejecting her. Again. “It won’t taste the same.”

“You made it. It’ll still taste good.” Cruz felt his temper threatening to spike. It took all the energy he could muster to keep it in check. “Look, I’m exhausted. If you don’t mind, I’m going to turn in.” He was already walking away from her toward the stairs.

“Yes, I do mind,” Savannah said under her breath, but Cruz was too far away to hear.

Angry tears stung her eyes as she began to clear the table.