A Baby in the Bunkhouse (3 page)

“It's not the same thing,” Rafferty protested grimly.

“Not even close,” Jacey agreed in the same humorless tone.

“Close enough,” the older man countered sagely, stepping in with that cool air of authority once again. “Emergency Medical Services said the docs over at the Summit Hospital E.R. will answer any questions you have and talk you through it until they can get here—just give 'em a call.” He pushed the phone into Rafferty's hand, then extended his palm to Jacey. “I'm Eli Evans by the way,” he said warmly, reassuring her with a glance that all would be well. “My son and I own this place.”

Eli seemed like a nice guy. Hospitable and ready to lend a hand, unlike his son, who seemed to be offering aid with as much reluctance as Jacey felt receiving it.

Another contraction wrapped around her middle. It was all Jacey could do not to whimper as the pain increased. Recalling her labor coach's advice to relax and distract herself from the discomfort as much as possible during the early stage of labor, Jacey puffed, “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Her know-it-all sister had been right—Jacey shouldn't have taken her sweet old time getting to El Paso for the birth.

Jacey forced a determined smile and kept her attention on Eli. “And thanks for the lodging last night.”

“You're welcome.” Eli squeezed her hand reassuringly, before releasing it. “Although, for the record,” he said mildly, “I would have put you up in the ranch house.”

“My room was fine.” She'd slept well. Which was good, considering what she had ahead of her.

“You ought to taste the breakfast she cooked us,” Stretch remarked.

Eli's craggy brow lifted in surprise. “You cooked?”

Jacey shrugged as perspiration beaded her entire body. “It seemed a fair trade. Besides, we were all hungry.”

Unable to help herself as the pain increased to defcon levels, she let out a low, keening moan.

Every cowboy in the room—except Rafferty—stepped away from the bed she was lying on. As if it would somehow help to give her space.

And maybe it would, Jacey thought as sweat dampened her hair and heat pushed up her neck into her face. Despite the fact she was now once again diligently doing her Lamaze breathing, she felt as if she would never be able to get enough air.

Father and son exchanged concerned glances she wished she hadn't seen. “Let us know if you need anything.” Eli directed the cowboys out, and the door shut behind them.

Jacey and Rafferty were alone, and Rafferty looked about as happy with the situation as she was.

He punched in a number, stated he was going to be the one delivering the baby, then listened intently. “This your first baby?” he asked Jacey.

“Yes.”

“Then we're probably going to have plenty of time.”

Rafferty went back to talking on the phone, absorbed what sounded like a slew of in-case-things-do-get-out-of-hand instructions. Promising to call back if he needed further instructions, he hung up and opened the bedroom door. “Get me a stack of clean towels and something to wrap the baby in!” he called.

The cowboys milling nervously about jumped to attention. Mere seconds later clean linens were shoved into Rafferty's arms.

“Boil a pair of scissors and some string. I want 'em sterile,” he barked before shutting the door and striding back to the narrow twin bed. Despite his lack of experience, he carried himself with a gunslinger's confidence, which, oddly enough, made her want to kick him in the shin. Perverse as it might be, she wanted him to feel as panicked and out of control as she did. She wanted them to be on a level playing field.

A glint of humor in his blue eyes, he surveyed her mussed hair and flushed cheeks. “Want a bullet to bite on?”

“Very funny,” she panted.

“Whiskey to kill the pain?”

“You're a laugh riot.” Tears streamed down her face. “All those wonderful delivery-room drugs would probably help just about now.”

“I'm sure they'll give you a shot of whatever as soon as the EMS gets here. Meanwhile—” he dragged the ladder-back chair over to the end of the bed “—we're going to have to get you better situated.” He patted the end of the mattress. “So you're going to have to scoot down to the end.”

With her whole body wrapped in a vise? Suddenly, she was trembling from head to toe. “I don't th-th-think I c-can.”

“I'll help you.” Gentle, reassuring now, he put his warm, strong hands beneath her, then shifted her bottom to the end of the mattress. He slipped onto the seat of the chair, positioning her legs so her knees were raised, her feet flat on the mattress. He lifted her again, held her there with one hand and spread two clean towels out beneath her.

Another wave of intense pressure rocked Jacey's frame. Was it her imagination or could she literally feel the baby bump moving lower…? “I know it doesn't seem possible…but I r-r-really think I f-f-f-eel the head.”

“Only one way to find out.” He was so calm and matter-of-fact they might have been talking about the weather. “We'll take a look, see how far your cervix is dilated.”

“Guess those veterinary classes are coming in handy.”

“Now who's the smart-ass?”

Grinning, she had a feeling he'd be a fun guy to spar with. Under other circumstances…She sucked in a breath as another contraction gripped her.

The look on his face as he checked out the situation confirmed her worst suspicions and the reason for her distress. “You need to call for help again?”

All business, Rafferty shook his head. “No time.”

No time?

“Hang in there, Jacey.” His voice was as warm as his touch. “We can do this.”

Suddenly, with him by her side…she felt as if they could.

He remained focused on the task ahead. “I'm going to have to touch you.” He applied a very gentle counterpressure to her perineum that made her feel as though things were getting back into control, however slightly. “And you're going to need to pant or blow through the contractions. Just don't push. Not yet. I'll tell you when.”

Marshaling every bit of self-control she had, she fought through the excruciating pain and did as instructed.

“I can see the head. It's coming out…nice and slow…which is good. We don't want to rush anything. Wait! I've got to unhook this loop of umbilical cord from around the baby's neck.”

Jacey sucked in a breath and went as still as possible, not even daring to breathe.

“Easy does it,” he murmured as he gently worked the cord over the baby's head. “Okay, we're good to go,” he said with a smile. She felt the backs of Rafferty's hands brush against her spread thighs as he took the baby's head in both his palms. “Now push! We've got a shoulder…an upper arm….! Another shoulder and…a baby!” he declared triumphantly.

Jacey felt a whoosh as the infant slipped completely free of her body. Another rush of fluid. Incredibly happy and at peace, she watched as Rafferty cleared the mouth of mucus and held the squirming, squalling baby aloft so she could see.

 

A
LUMP CLOGGED
Rafferty's throat as the baby let out one lusty cry after another. A cheer went up on the other side of the door that paired nicely with Jacey's exultant cry as she met her infant daughter for the first time. “Hello, Caitlin, my sweet baby girl,” she whispered, happy tears streaming down her face.

“Congratulations,” he said gruffly, pushing aside memories of another place, another time and life that had been cruelly taken away.

He wrapped the pink, squalling baby in a towel and handed Caitlin to her mother.

Too overwhelmed to do more than nod, tears of joy streaming down her face, Jacey cradled the newborn close to her chest. Forcing himself to rein in the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him, too, Rafferty returned to the end of the bed and concentrated on the task still at hand. Tears pricked the back of his eyes. Determinedly, he willed them away. “Anyone you want to call?” he asked in the most impersonal tone he could manage.

Abruptly, Jacey went very still. “If you're asking about a…husband…”

He was.

As reluctant as he was to imagine her with any other guy, he didn't want her to be alone, either.

“I don't have one.”

Rafferty should have figured that would be the case, given how independent she was. He checked, saw the afterbirth still attached to the umbilical cord, well on its way.

He went to the door. Got the sterilized scissors and string from the cowboys on the other side. Shut it again. “Baby daddy then,” he prompted.

Blissfully entranced with the quieting bundle in her arms, Jacey shook her head, replied softly, “Don't have one of those either.”

Rafferty checked out her left hand. Sure enough, it bore no wedding ring.

Which meant what? The baby's father had abandoned her? Died? Was around but chose not to be involved? Her expression gave no clue. And in fact, she seemed defiantly determined not to discuss it with him.

He figured that was her right. He didn't want to talk about his personal life, either. Still, there had to be somebody who cared, someone to notify.

“Family then,” he insisted matter-of-factly. With the placenta out, Rafferty was free to tie off and then cut the umbilical cord. Finished, he tucked the towel in around the baby once again, keeping the newborn warm.

“I've got a sister in El Paso who was supposed to be my labor-and-delivery coach. I'll call her after we get to the hospital.”

Without warning, there was a
thump thump thump
of an approaching chopper.

“Sounds like the Medevac team is here,” Rafferty said.

Given the heart-wrenching memories that this experience had conjured up, it wasn't a moment too soon.

“Heard you and the baby were about to be released.” Eli Evans stood in the doorway of Jacey's hospital room two days later. Hat held against his chest, he asked, “Mind if I come in?”

Jacey smiled. “Please do. I owe you and your son and everyone at the ranch so much.” For the food and lodging, getting her car out of the mud, and most especially, for delivering her baby.

Not that she'd seen or heard a word from the vet-school dropout who'd done the honors since the EMS had rushed into the bunkhouse and taken over.

The sexy rancher hadn't called. Hadn't come by. Or sent flowers.

And while technically she knew there was no reason Rafferty Evans should have, she'd privately hoped she would see him again. She thought they'd bonded during Caitlin's birth, the way strangers who lived through an unexpected trauma together did.

Obviously not.

Rafferty wasn't going to be around to see her through the transition into motherhood. He wasn't going to help her ward off her overbearing older sister, Mindy, or be there to lean on in the days ahead. Even though for one brief, fanciful moment, Jacey had wished that were the case….

Oblivious to her thoughts, Eli set a glass vase of flowers down on the table beside her hospital bed.

“As far as the men are concerned, it's the other way around,” Eli told her. “They haven't stopped talking about that breakfast you made them.”

Happy to be drawn back to reality, Jacey waved off the praise. “It was no big deal.”

“To a bunch of hired hands who haven't had a decent meal in months, it is. Which is why I'm here.” Eli paused to gently touch Caitlin's cheek in the same way a loving grandfather might, then dropped his weather-beaten hand and stepped back. “I promised 'em I'd at least ask if you wanted a job as ranch cook.”

Jacey blinked. Talk about providence! Loving the soft, sweet smell of baby, she held Caitlin closer to her chest. “You're kidding.”

Eli sobered. “No, Ms. Lambert, I surely am not. We've got fall roundup going on out there for the next five or six weeks. And seven men in need of three square meals a day. I understand you just had a baby and have got to have some time to recuperate. That you probably have a job elsewhere.”

So he'd heard she had no husband to support her. That meant Rafferty had told him. Did Rafferty and his father also guess her options at the moment were severely limited, thanks to the unexpected loss of her job in San Antonio the previous week?

No matter. Without warning, she'd found herself in need of new employment and a new apartment, since her previous place had come with the job. Unless she wanted to impose on her sister indefinitely. And Jacey really didn't, given the unending stream of advice the terminally overprotective Mindy would no doubt be handing out on a daily, hourly basis. She had no other options at the moment. But this.

“Actually,” Jacey cut in cheerfully, “I'm looking for employment as well as a place to live—temporarily anyway.” She couldn't say she'd want to live in such isolation indefinitely. But right now it wouldn't be a bad place to be while she figured out her options and looked for another position in her regular line of work.

Eli worked the brim of his Stetson hat in his age-spotted hands. “Any way you could do this for us? We'd make it worth your while.”

To Jacey's shock, Eli named a salary on par with what she had been earning with the management company.

Joy bubbled up inside her. “I could keep Caitlin with me at all times?”

“Absolutely. We'd see you had everything the two of you need.”

We.
Abruptly remembering the Lost Mountain Ranch was jointly owned and operated, Jacey bit her lower lip. “What about your son? How is Rafferty going to feel about this?” Initially, he hadn't wanted her on their property at all.

Eli regarded Jacey with a look that told the new mom that her instincts were right—her presence as ranch cook wasn't something Rafferty would desire.

“You leave that to me,” Eli said.

 

“I
DON'T CARE
how providential it seems. Taking the job as the Lost Mountain Ranch bunkhouse cook is a mistake,” Mindy told Jacey as she dressed her baby girl in her pink-and-white going-home-from-the hospital outfit. “Because you know exactly what's going to happen.”

Jacey wrapped Caitlin in a matching baby blanket. “I'll save money for a fresh start?”

Mindy swept a hand through her cropped brown hair and turned her laser-sharp brown eyes to Jacey. “You'll get too comfortable. Before you know it, you'll be settling for what's convenient and easy again, rather than holding out for what you really want.”

Jacey handed Caitlin over to her older sister. As always, Mindy was nicely dressed, in an elegantly tailored shirt and slacks. “Look, I know you love me…” she began.

Mindy cuddled her niece with familial love and tenderness. “And Caitlin, too.”

“And want only the best for me,” Jacey continued, wishing her big sis were a lot less protective, now that they were both grown-up and headed down different paths.

Mindy exhaled, exasperated. “I'm just telling you what Mom would have said if she were here.”

Their late mother, Jacey was fairly certain, would have understood. After all, Karol Lambert had made her own share of sacrifices as she struggled to support herself and two small daughters after her husband died.

But figuring it would do no good to say that to Mindy—]who had reacted to their beloved mother's death, when Mindy was nineteen and Jacey was eighteen, by focusing solely on setting goals and achieving them—Jacey kept quiet. Instead, she slipped into the adjoining bath to put on the gray and pink warm-ups she intended to wear.

“You need to call Cash, tell him you and the baby are in trouble,” Mindy said.

Eager for the time she'd actually be able to go out and run again, Jacey put on her socks and athletic shoes. Finished, she marched back out to confront her sister. “First of all, I'm thirty-one years old. I can make my own decisions. Second, I don't have a clue where Cash is. And third, you know very well that he doesn't want to be involved.”

Mindy frowned. “Caitlin is his baby!”

Jacey exhaled slowly and counted backward from ten. “Not in any way that counts,” she argued.

Mindy's jaw dropped.

Wondering why her sister was so flummoxed—certainly not from the same old disagreement they'd been over countless times in the last nine months—Jacey pivoted in the direction of Mindy's gaze. Suddenly, she understood. Rafferty Evans was standing in the doorway, bigger than life. Her eyes drifted over him as shock set in. She thought he had looked good rescuing her and delivering her baby. It was nothing compared to the way he looked this afternoon in a dark brown leather jacket, light blue shirt and jeans. His thick brown hair had been cut since she'd seen him last. The clean, rumpled strands were an inch and a half in length, slightly wavy.

“Well, this explains part of it anyway,” Mindy drawled.

Figuring it would do no good to tell her sister the situation wasn't what it seemed, Jacey turned her attention to Rafferty.

Reassuring herself she was immune to his studly presence, she demanded, “What are you doing here?”

His mesmerizing eyes kept more private than they revealed. “I heard you needed a ride back to the ranch.”

Her heart beat rapidly for no particular reason. “Your father said he was going to do it.”

He sauntered in, the fragrance of soap and man clinging to his clean-shaven jaw. “That was when your projected release time was this morning.” Steering well clear of Mindy and the baby, he lounged against the wall and shrugged his broad shoulders. “When it turned out to be later, I got tapped. He had an appointment with his rheumatologist in Fort Stockton this afternoon, although he'll probably be back at the ranch by the time we get there.”

“Oh.”

Mindy handed Caitlin back to Jacey. As soon as the transfer was accomplished, she made a beeline for Rafferty and shook his hand with the intimidating air Jacey loathed. “I'm Dr. Mindy Lambert, Jacey's sister.”

“She's currently finishing up her residency in El Paso,” Jacey put in.

“I'm studying psychiatry,” Mindy stated.

“Fortunately, I don't let her practice on me,” Jacey said.

Rafferty laughed.

It was, Jacey decided, a beautiful sound.

“I'd advise you to do the same,” she continued dryly.

Rafferty nodded, not the least bit intimidated. “So noted.” He looked around. “Listen. If you're not done with your visit…”

Mindy held up a hand. “Actually, I've got to get back to El Paso. I was trying to convince Jacey to come home with me, as originally planned. But since she's refused, I'll just have to keep tabs on her and Caitlin another way.”

Jacey rolled her eyes. “You really need to work on that overprotectiveness. You should probably see someone.”

“Ha-ha.” Mindy watched as Jacey settled Caitlin in the Plexiglas nursery bed.

“Seriously, thanks for coming over.” Jacey embraced her sister. Despite their differences, they loved each other dearly. “I know how hard it is for you to get away.”

Mindy returned the embrace warmly. “I'd do anything for you. You know that.” Mindy drew back to look into her eyes. “You call me as often as you can and let me know how you're doing. Promise?”

Jacey nodded, her throat thick with emotion. “Promise,” she said huskily.

Mindy bent and kissed her niece goodbye, then headed out. Jacey was so busy watching her sister go, she forgot for a moment they weren't alone.

“So, who's Cash?” a low male voice asked from behind her.

Jacey turned. Rafferty was standing next to the window, one shoulder braced against the glass, his arms folded in front of him. He looked sexy and indomitable. “You heard that?”

“Couldn't help it.” Undisguised interest lit his handsome face. “And you didn't answer my question.”

Jacey began gathering up the rest of her things. She folded them neatly and put them in her overnight bag. “He's a friend of mine, who donated the sperm for my baby.”

Rafferty narrowed his eyes. “You talking literally?”

“It was done in a doctor's office, if that's what you're asking.” She could tell by the way Rafferty was looking at her that he was thinking back to the conversation they'd had during her delivery, about the baby's daddy—or lack thereof. “Cash and I agreed from the outset that he would not be responsible for this child.” There were, in fact, legal documents verifying this.

Rafferty stepped closer. Arms still folded in front of him, he looked down at the sweetly sleeping Caitlin. “So he's never even going to see this baby?” He looked stunned.

Jacey inhaled. “I'm sure he will at some point.”

“But you've got no plans—”

“To call him? I don't even know where he is right now. Last I heard he was headed for the wilds of Alaska to do some dogsledding.”

Rafferty regarded her, an increasingly inscrutable expression on his face.

The unexpected intimacy of the conversation left her feeling off kilter. Heart pounding, Jacey picked up her baby and held her close to her chest. “Let me guess. You don't approve.” If so, he wasn't the first, and she was sure, he wouldn't be the last.

Ignoring the baby, Rafferty looked her square in the eye. “If you think it's going to be that simple,” he concluded gruffly, “you're fooling yourself.”

 

“W
HAT'D YOU SAY
to tick her off?” Eli asked an hour and a half later.

Rafferty noted his dad's arthritis had eased up, along with the rain. He was moving around a lot more comfortably. But then, that was the way the disease worked. One day his dad would be chipper and spry and ready to saddle up with the rest of them, the next Eli'd be so stiff and sore he'd barely be able to get around. There was just no predicting. Which was why he'd had to retire—and do physical ranch work only sporadically.

However, his dad's intellect, his ability to take in everything around him down to the smallest detail, remained intact.

Bracing himself for a possible lecture, Rafferty rocked back in his desk chair. “What do you mean?”

“I saw the look on Jacey's face when she came in the front door. This should be a very joyous day for her. She was happy when I spoke with her at the hospital yesterday. Now she looks like she wants to punch something. Namely you.”

Rafferty went through the day's mail, tossing the junk and stacking the rest. “She told me she had her baby via sperm donor.”

Eli sat down. “How in the world did that come up?”

Not easily, Rafferty thought. “I sort of asked her.”

“Sort of?”

“Okay, I asked her.”