Memories: A Husband to Remember\New Year's Daddy (Hqn) (43 page)

“And Bryan said he wanted to learn how to ride a horse, snowboard and play an electric guitar.”

Travis winced. “
Electric?
Why not acoustic?”

“And he’s agreed to visit his mother at least once a year. Maybe twice.”

“That’s progress.”

“I think so. Vic and Shelly plan to have another baby,” Ronni said.

“And you?”

“I thought I might go along with my sister. It sounds good, you know.”

“What? To have another baby?”

“
Our
baby, half sibling to each of our kids. Kind of a knot to hold us together.”

“Do we need one?”

She laughed and sipped the champagne. “Suppose not, but it would be nice.”

“I guess so.” He nuzzled her neck and caught a glimpse of Bryan and Amy staring down at them through the rails of the landing.

“I’m not talking about right away,” she said. “We need time to grow as a family, just the four of us.”

A muffled bark from the area of the kitchen made her laugh. “Okay, just the six of us,” she amended. “But, by the end of the year...”

“It could be a possibility.” Travis’s eyes sparkled.

“So right now I resolve that I’ll be the best mother in the world to our two kids and the best wife on this earth to you.”

“Hear, hear.” He started to take a sip, but she caught his wrist.

“Not so fast, mister. What’s your resolution?”

“Mine?” His grin stretched wide. “That’s easy.” He set his glass on the mantel and circled her waist with his strong arms. Intense eyes stared down at her. “I’m going to love you forever, Ronni,” he vowed, saying the words that she’d longed to hear ever since first meeting him. “My resolution isn’t for a year, it’s for the rest of our lives.”

Epilogue

T
HE
CLOCK
STRUCK
twelve.

“Happy New Year!” Amy sang out, proudly displaying a front tooth that wobbled precariously on her bottom gums.

“Same to you,” Ronni said with a yawn. She hugged her daughter as Bryan clomped down the stairs. The first signs of stubble covered his upper lip and his voice cracked whenever he talked. “Where’s your father?” she asked. “I didn’t think he wanted to miss this.”

“In the bedroom,” Bryan and Amy said in unison, then exchanged knowing glances.

“I should have guessed.” Ronni pushed herself from the couch and walked past the embers of the fire in the grate to the master bedroom where Travis was reaching into the bassinet.

“You wake her and I’ll strangle you,” Ronni warned, but it was too late. Travis, fascinated with his two-month-old daughter, picked up the infant and held her close.

“Happy New Year,” he whispered to Andrea and she made little sucking motions with her lips. With a proud smile, he looked up at his wife and winked. “You know she’s the most beautiful baby in the world, don’t you?”

Ronni grinned. “Don’t tell Shelly. She thinks Kevin’s got that award all sewed up.”

“Well, she’s wrong. Besides, he’s bald.”

“He’s only two weeks old,” Ronni said, but laughed when she thought of her sister and small family all tucked into the caretaker’s house on the lake. Victor was working for Travis full-time and had added two bedrooms and a bath to the house where Ronni and Shelly had grown up. Now, all their lives had settled into a comfortable, contented routine. Ronni had moved from her little cabin and rented it to a young couple. She’d transferred her business to an old storage building near the lodge and the horses had moved, as well, to new stables Travis had insisted upon building. Bryan had learned to snowboard this season and had reconciled himself to having a stepmother and a few new siblings. He even called his mother in France every once in a while and planned to visit her again this summer, as he did last.

Amy, growing by leaps and bounds, was in seventh heaven with her new sister, two dogs and Lucy’s half-grown colt, and Ronni was happier than she’d ever been in her life.

“I guess you’re right,” she admitted, gazing down at her infant daughter’s precious face. “She’s probably the prettiest baby ever born.”

A thunder of footsteps announced Amy’s arrival.

Andrea blinked and stretched a little fist, as her father, reached forward, grabbed the belt surrounding Ronni’s waist and pulled her close.

“Aren’t we gonna have champagne?” Amy demanded.

“Your mother and I are. You’ll have to settle for sparkling cider. You, too,” he added when Bryan poked his head into the room.

“I know, Dad,” he said and Ronni smiled inwardly at the familiarity and love that had grown between father and son. Bryan was starting to talk about cars and getting his driving permit and some girl name Julie and Travis, bless him, was handling being a father of a teenager.

“We’ll be there in a minute,” Travis promised. “You guys find the corkscrew.”

Amy was off on her new mission with Bryan in tow. “Now,” Travis said, shifting the baby so that she wouldn’t get squeezed, “I just wanted to make our private New Year’s resolution.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

“That we have a baby every year.”

She laughed. “Only if
you
go through pregnancy, gain thirty pounds and then suffer with labor.”

“Spoilsport.”

“How about we have one this year and then decide?”

“As long as we can have at least one more.”

“Mmm, I might be able to be convinced.”

“I was hoping...” He loosened the belt of her robe and touched her breasts.

“Watch out,” she warned, kissing him. “You might be getting yourself into big trouble.”

“That’s what I’m aiming for,” he whispered, brushing his lips across her ear.

At that moment Andrea decided to wake up and let out a squawk loud enough to rouse the dead in three counties. Amy and her dogs thundered back toward the room. Ronni quickly adjusted her clothing.

“Later,” she said, taking the baby from her husband’s arms.

“I’m counting on it.”

She grinned and winked. “Good. I think we’ll both have to learn a little patience.”

“No problem,” he drawled. “The way I figure it, we’ve got the rest of our lives.”

* * * * *

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ISBN-13: 9781460323823

MEMORIES

Copyright © 2014 by Harlequin Books S.A.

The publisher acknowledges the copyright holder
of the individual works as follows:

A HUSBAND TO REMEMBER
Copyright © 1993 by Susan Crose

NEW YEAR’S DADDY
Copyright © 1995 by Susan Crose

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