Cinderella and the Playboy / The Texan's Happily-Ever-After (27 page)

“I'm sure that would be fine with them, but are you sure you want to do it?”

She knew what he meant. When she'd left his ranch, she'd had no intention of seeing him again. Or he her. But now everything had changed. “We do need to talk. Besides, I've missed the boys.”

“They asked me about you, when you'd be coming to the ranch again.”

“What did you tell them?”

“The truth. That I didn't know.”

She could just blurt out the fact that she was pregnant. But that wasn't the way to handle this. She didn't
know exactly what was—she just knew that wasn't the way. “I'm at Ryder's now. I'll have to go back home to pick up a couple of things. But then I'll be there. It will probably take about a half hour.”

“You're a godsend, Raina. Thanks for offering to do this. If you have second thoughts on your way, though, and you can think of the name of someone else to call, let me know.”

“I'll be there, Shep.”

“A promise?”

“A promise.” She could almost see his crooked smile as she closed the phone.

“You're driving out there tonight?” Ryder asked with a bit of disapproval in his tone.

“Shep has a sick horse and needs help with the boys. He can't leave them alone.”

“I thought he had a nanny.”

“She's away.”

“How much older is she than he is?”

“Ryder!”

“How much?” he grumbled.

“About fifteen years. There's nothing going on between them except respect and affection.”

“I'm still going to do a background check.”

“I don't want you to. You're not going to find anything. He's a good man.”

“Men who have been away for years and then return have a past. In that past, sometimes there are secrets.”

Did Shep have secrets? Didn't everybody?

Standing, she went over to her brother and hugged him. “Please, Ryder. Just let me live my life. Okay?”

He didn't answer her.

Straightening, she picked up her purse and shoved the strap over her shoulder. “Remember, don't tell Mom anything.”

“You
are
going to tell her you're pregnant.”

She sighed. “In good time. I have to figure out what I'm going to do first.”

“Keep in mind one thing, will you?” he asked soberly.

“What's that?” She thought he might insist she didn't have to be involved with Shep McGraw simply because she was carrying his child.

He told her something else. “I want you to think of yourself this time, Raina.”

She wasn't sure what he meant. “Do you want to explain that?”

“When you married Clark, you supported his lifestyle as a fireman. You fit yours around it. After Clark died, you thought about his family, about his friends, about grants you could give to fire companies in his name, instead of using that money to make your life easier and secure.”

“I used some to finish med school. That was all I needed.”

“I know what you used. You needed a lot more than you gave away. The fact is, I don't think you really thought about yourself until you moved back here. Don't stop now. You consider what's best for you and your baby.”

“I will,” she promised him, already focused on the life growing inside of her. She would always do what was best for her baby.

Parking next to the veterinarian's van, Raina closed her car door. As she began walking toward the house, Shep strode across the lane from the barn, holding Manuel.

Roy and Joey were tight on his heels. Roy asked in excitement, “Are you going to put us to bed tonight?”

“I think I am.”

Her gaze met Shep's and the world shook a little, a leftover seismic tremor from what had happened between them that day under the cottonwoods.

“Thanks for coming.”

She felt herself blushing, something she couldn't remember happening before she'd met him. “Have you been trying to take care of the kids, the ranch and a sick horse all by yourself?”

“I'm definitely not super-rancher,” he said with a crooked grin. “The man who tends to the horses most days stayed late. He just left when the vet arrived. I do know my limits.”

In a way, she guessed that Shep thought he didn't have many limits. She wasn't sure what had given her that idea. He seemed to be able to tackle anything, and do a good job of it, whether it was adopting the boys or seeing to the ranch and handling the lumberyard business. She considered what Ryder had said about doing a background check and she liked the idea even less now than she had earlier. She'd have to tell him again to let it go.

As they started toward the house, Roy tucked his little hand in hers and a warm feeling enveloped her. She hadn't thought much about being a mother over the past few years—not since losing Clark. Now, with Roy's hand in hers, and the knowledge that she had a little life growing inside of her, she realized a forgotten dream could come true.

Once they were on the porch, she held out her hands to Manuel. He pursed his lips, made a sound like an
engine and then lunged toward her. She caught him with a laugh, holding him close.

When Shep touched her elbow, she felt a shaft of heat rush through her. “I might have to spend most of the night in the barn. In the morning, we can talk.”

Raina nodded, her throat suddenly tight. All she wanted to do was blurt out the words and see Shep's reaction. Yet, on the other hand, she wanted to keep the secret to herself, just in case telling Shep would change her life in a way she didn't want. She wasn't sure what to expect from him. Just how well
did
she know him?

Ryder's point exactly.

“We can talk when the crisis is over.”

“Sometimes there seems to be one after another.”

Releasing her arm, he ran his hand over Manuel's hair. She wondered what kind of dad Shep would be with a daughter. Protective, that was for sure. Probably doting, too. But he already had three children. Would he want another? And if he did, then what? How would she handle having him in her child's life? In
her
life? Attraction was one thing. Parenting was another.

“The boys had showers before supper. You can skip Manuel's bath tonight, if you'd like.”

“I don't mind. We'll make a playtime of it.”

“I've been putting cotton in his ears in case he splashes. I have those little earplugs, too. They're on top of the chest in his room.”

“I won't forget,” she said, amused that he'd think she would.

“No, I guess not,” he responded with some chagrin. “I'm just trying to think of anything that could crop up.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I'm thirty-seven, Shep, and my coping skills are pretty good. Even if your boys throw me a curve, I'll try not to strike out.”

He laughed at her sports imagery. “Okay, I get the picture.” His gaze lingered on hers for a few more seconds, and that made her tummy shimmy—and not from evening sickness.

“I can show you to the guest bedroom upstairs—”

“We'll show her,” Roy piped up. “It's next to ours,” he explained to Raina.

Shep gave Roy a pat on the back. “Thanks. I know you and Joey will make Dr. Gibson feel right at home.”

Showing Raina just how prepared he was, Shep pulled a card from his pocket. “That has my cell phone number on it. I'll have it with me. If you need anything, just call.”

Again she nodded.

After a last, long look at her and Manuel, he said, “I'll see you in the morning, boys,” turned and jogged down the steps, not stopping his fast pace until he reached the barn. There he tossed another look over his shoulder at her and disappeared inside.

During the rest of the evening, Raina played mom. She had to admit, giving Manuel a bath while Joey and Roy brushed their teeth and put on their pj's felt natural. After settling Manuel in his crib, she sat on the boys' twin bed, Joey and Roy on either side of her, and read them their favorite story. The words rolled off her tongue as if she'd read it before, but she hadn't. They laughed and asked her to read their favorite pages over.

As Joey leaned forward to point to a picture, a medal
on a chain swung from around his neck. Raina asked, “That's St. Christopher, isn't it?”

Joey's fingers closed around the medal. “Yeah, it is. My dad who died gave it to me. He said it would always keep me safe.”

“I have one, too,” Roy remarked, as if he didn't want to be left out. “Mine's in a box in my drawer. I was afraid I'd lose it. So my dad…” He hesitated. “My dad in the barn said that's best for now.”

“I think your medals are wonderful remembrances,” she said softly.

Obviously wanting to change the subject, Joey asked, “Can we get a drink of water?”

The brothers tried to stall their bedtimes, but finally they settled in, tired from a weekend full of activities with Shep. Joey had seemed quieter than Roy, but then he always was. She wondered about the stomachaches, if he was still having them, but didn't bring them up.

Before she'd given Manuel his bath, she'd deposited her backpack in the guest bedroom and hung her outfit for office hours the next day in the empty guest-room closet. Apparently Shep didn't have overnight visitors often.

After taking her own shower, slipping into feminine pink plaid boxers and a T-shirt, she lay on top of the covers with a magazine she'd brought along, thinking she'd read for a little while, just in case the boys didn't go right to sleep. However, she must have been as tired as they were, because she drifted off.

The next thing she knew, she felt a hand on her shoulder—a large, warm hand. Thinking she was dreaming,
she leaned her cheek against the fingers, remembering Shep's sensual touches by the stream. “Raina?”

His voice was husky, deep, louder than a dream. Instantly, she came awake and found Shep leaning over her.

T
he light from the hall cut a swath into the guest bedroom, putting Shep in silhouette as he gazed down at Raina.

The same look had been in his eyes before they'd made love. No, not made love. They didn't know each other well enough for that. Still, she couldn't have had sex with him if she hadn't felt a deep connection. Did he feel that connection, too? Or had it only been pleasure he'd been after—a relief from his life with his boys.

He dragged a wooden chair from alongside the bed and sat facing her. “It's around midnight. I wanted to make sure everything was okay up here.”

“How's the horse?”

“Buttermilk is coming along. Ed came back to help out. He's walking him while I make us some coffee.”

Shep was looking at her pink T-shirt, appraising her plaid boxer shorts. She'd left the window open and hadn't bothered to cover with the sheet. Now she felt a little uncomfortable, especially without a bra. “The boys are fine. I read them a story while Manuel fell asleep.”

“How many glasses of water did they ask for?”

“Three, but they only got two.”

He chuckled. “If I don't set a boundary, they'll test me until I draw one.”

“Manuel's the sweetest baby, and since I was here last, he's picked up more words and syllables. The surgery worked—I don't think he'll be far behind at all.”

Okay, they'd covered the subject of the boys, and now they both knew what was coming. The pulse in her ears was pounding hard.

She hiked herself up to a sitting position and laid the magazine to the side of the bed.

“How did you really cope with September eleventh?” Shep asked, real concern in his voice.

She shrugged. “I spent most of the day with my friend Lily. She lost her husband recently and she's pregnant. We definitely understand each other right now.”

“Lily Wescott? I knew her husband. Troy was a great guy.”

Raina thought about how life was one big circle…just like life in Sagebrush. “I called Clark's family. Angie and Gina came over, too, late that evening. We went through photo albums. I do that every year and allow myself to relive the pain and cry. I found if I don't, if I try to ignore the day, if I think everything's going to be okay, then it isn't. Grief has a way of
bleeding upward from your heart through your whole body, so it's better just to take it on.”

“You're a brave woman, Raina.”

She shifted on the sheet, uncomfortable with his assessment. “No, I'm not brave. I've just learned what works for me. Lily will have to find her own way. In the meantime, we can support each other. That's what friends are for. She's thinking of moving into the Victorian, and that would be terrific. We'll all help her raise her baby.” Raina suddenly felt the color drain from her face.

Apparently Shep noticed. “What is it?” He took her hand, and the gesture made her confession so much harder.

She slipped her hand from his, needing her wits about her. “I'm pregnant, Shep. Two pregnancy tests were positive.”

He looked stunned for a moment, took off his Stetson, twirled it in his hands, then set it back on the top of his head. “I know this pregnancy is my responsibility as much as yours, but I need a little time to take this in.”

That really wasn't the reaction she'd expected, but Shep often did the unexpected. “Okay. I'll go back to sleep up here, and you can think about it while you're walking Buttermilk.”

He took her hand again and this time held on. “I don't want you to feel alone in this, but right now I can't stay. I have to get back to the barn.”

“I understand.” And she did. But they couldn't resolve anything if they didn't talk. Obviously, Shep wasn't a big talker until he knew what he wanted to say.

Pushing back the chair, he stood, leaned down and kissed her forehead. It was a tender, light kiss, almost like a whisper. She might have imagined it.

After he put the chair back where it belonged, he went to the doorway. “Light off or on?” he asked.