Stone Cold Cowboy (26 page)

S
adie walked out of the bathroom after throwing up, with a cold, wet washcloth pressed to her cheek. Rory stared at her from the bed, his chest bare, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and surprise. She wished for some happiness mixed in, but didn't see it.

“Uh, so that just happened.”

His gaze dipped to her belly and back to her face. She waited for him to ask if she was sure she was pregnant or if she just had the flu. Of course he didn't ask. The silent conversations they had every time he looked at her too long, every time they made love and fell asleep with his hand over her stomach, every time she showed even the smallest sign that she was tired or not feeling well in even the slightest way turned into this festering thing between them. He blamed himself for something he couldn't have prevented. Accidents happen. This one resulted in a baby.

She'd known a week ago when she was late—she was never late—but didn't say anything to Rory. She couldn't stand to see what she saw in him right now. The inevitability of what happened next. He'd do the right thing. Marry her. They'd continue on as they had
these last weeks, ignoring the fact that this happened way too fast.

She didn't say anything these last days because she'd needed time to sort out her own mind and heart. Funny, where Rory worried, she felt at peace. Happy. Even elated by the news. Her father's death had renewed her sense of living life to the fullest. Watching him deteriorate had made her want to hold on to everything she had and strive for more. She'd opened herself to Rory and love. That love turned into something wonderful they shared each and every day. Everything would be perfect if not for this black cloud hanging over them. Not the baby, but Rory's strange and confusing feelings about it. He'd be such a great father. He wanted to be a father, but the way this happened bothered him on a deep level. She wished she knew what to say to make him believe her that she didn't blame him. She wanted him and their baby and the happiness they'd share for the rest of their lives.

“Uh, do you have anything to say?”

He continued to stare at her, his face a blank mask, except for the shifting emotions in his eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better than you look.”

Rory sat on the edge of the bed, planted his forearms on his thighs, and hung his head.

“Right, well, I've got some things to do at my place before I head into work.” She'd been working her way through the house, sorting through years of accumulated family stuff that needed to be tossed, sold, or donated to the local thrift shop. While she prepared for the future she wanted with Rory, he brooded about it.

She shrugged off her short robe and pulled out one
of the two drawers Rory gave her when she essentially moved in. Soon, she'd need more space for her things. She wanted to put her mark on their room. She didn't want to keep going back and forth between here and her place, living in this limbo.

“Sadie.”

She turned and stood before Rory in nothing but her panties, her hair tied up in a messy knot she'd hastily done before she yacked in the toilet.

“What?” She let her exasperation show in the heavy sigh she let out.

Rory's gaze finally met hers. “We need to make some plans for you moving in here permanently. We'll get married.”

Sadie held up her hand. “Wait. What?” Married? Just like that. She didn't want to be an obligation, she wanted . . . more . . . everything. She wanted him to love her the way she loved him.

“You're mad.”

“A little bit.” And a lot disappointed he didn't show an ounce of excitement or joy for their baby, or about planning a life with her.

“I'm sorry.”

“That, right there.” She pointed a finger at him. “You think I'm mad about the baby. Well, you're wrong. I'm happy. I'm excited. I've already started thinking of names and buying a crib and seeing
our
child in your arms.

“I don't care how it happened. I am so thrilled to be pregnant with your child. Do you get that? You're going to be an amazing father. I can't wait to be a mother. But you are taking something that is an amazing gift in our lives and are turning it into something unwelcome.”

“No, sweetheart, I want this child more than I can say.”

She held her hands out and let them fall back to her thighs. “Then act like it. You finally have confirmation this morning, but you don't smile or hug me or . . . anything to back that up. You look like your world just ended.”

“That's not it at all.”

“What am I supposed to think with the way you've been acting lately? When I come home at the end of the day, you look at me like it's been forever since you laid eyes on me and you can't wait another second to be with me. You make love to me and everything feels so right. But then there are those times when you look at me and think about the baby and the look on your face is like I did something wrong.”

The phone beside the bed rang. Rory ignored it. “No, Sadie, I swear to you I . . .”

“Rory, Agent Cooke is on the phone,” Ford said, standing outside their closed door.

“I'll call him back.”

“He needs to talk to you now.”

Sadie shook her head. “Take it. I need to get dressed and get out of here.”

“Sweetheart, please listen to me.”

“Agent Cooke is waiting. Why is he calling anyway?”

“Your brother stole a dozen more cattle. At this rate, I'll run out of them before he's caught.”

Sadie flinched, gasped, and pressed her fingertips to her lips. “Oh my God. Again. I'm so sorry.” Lightheaded, she swayed and reached out to the wall to steady herself.

Rory launched himself off the bed and grabbed hold
of her shoulders to steady her. “Are you okay? You're so pale.”

“I'm fine. A touch of morning sickness. That's all. I need something to eat.”

Rory pulled her to the bed, turned her, and made her sit down. “I'll get something for you. Stay here.”

She clasped her hand over his forearm and stopped him from leaving. “I'll get something after I get dressed. Hurry up, take your call.”

“Sadie . . .”

She squeezed his hand and kissed the back of it. “It's fine. I'm fine. Go.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Please let me take care of you.”

“You do. You are. I'm a little off after waking up the way I did. I'm sorry I'm all over the place. It's my fault.”

“Nothing is your fault. Sweetheart, I . . .”

“Rory, man, are you taking this call or what?” Ford asked, tired of waiting outside their door.

Rory huffed out a frustrated breath. “We're not done talking about this.” He snagged his jeans off the chair by the window, dragged them on, along with a T-shirt he took from the dresser, opened the door, and took the phone Ford handed him. “Hello.” He looked back at her one last time, his eyes filled with regret they'd left too much unsaid, then closed the door and left.

She followed him down twenty minutes later, dressed and ready to get through this day so they could talk again tonight. His muffled voice came from the office to her right at the bottom of the stairs. She went left and headed for the kitchen and something to settle her queasy stomach. She found a sleeve of crackers and
made herself a mug of herbal tea. She sipped at the tea and walked into the office just as Rory hung up the phone. He stood behind the desk, staring down at the huge aerial photographs he'd taken when Agent Cooke took him up in the DEA helicopter to scout the property, looking for her brother and where he was cooking up the drugs. They'd found nothing specific and had spent the last weeks checking out one lead after another, always ending up empty-handed. One part of her was grateful they hadn't found her brother. The other part wished they would find Connor and his friends, put them out of business, and end this thing once and for all before Connor got killed. For Rory's sake, and that of his family's business, she hoped they found Connor soon.

“Hey,” she said from the doorway, popping another cracker into her mouth, trying not to think about the fact he'd announced they'd get married, but had never actually asked her.

Rory's head shot up and he stared at her for a long moment. “You look better.”

“Thanks. You're gorgeous as always.” That earned her a kind of smile. She missed the ones he used to give her so easily when things were simple between them and all they had to worry about was the asshole who liked to watch her bleed who was still out there.

Oh, the good ol' days.

She took another sip of tea, pulled another cracker from the sleeve tucked under her arm, and popped it into her mouth.

“Can I do something for you?” The concern in his voice touched her.

She walked forward and set her tea and crackers on
the desk. She looked him in the eye and said simply, “I could use a hug.”

This time the smile was genuine and filled with relief that she'd asked for something he could give her and they both needed. She didn't want to fight with him. She wanted to revel in what they'd found together. They'd find their way there.

His arms banded around her back and he rested his cheek on her head. Her hands slid up his arms to his broad shoulders. She inhaled his scent, this morning more Rory than horses, hay, and spring breezes. She rose up on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Not enough. Hold on to me, Rory.”

“Always.” His arms contracted around her into a tight bear hug, just the way she liked it.

She held him tighter, turned her head, and kissed his neck. She buried her face in his warm skin and savored this moment, both of them with their barriers down, completely connected.

His big hands rubbed up and down her back, settling on her hips. He gently set her away. “I've got work to do, but I hate to leave things between us so . . .”

“We're fine, Rory.” She put her hand over his heart and smiled softly up at him. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“As long as I have you, I have everything.”

Surprised by his sweet words, she stood stunned, staring up at him. “Rory, I . . .”

He kissed her softly, cutting off the words she'd held inside her far too long. She loved him. She wanted to tell him dozens of times, but it never seemed right. Until now, when in his quiet way he told her he loved her without actually saying it. Maybe that's all this was
between them. He needed to hear the words from her. He needed some kind of reassurance that she cared as much as him.

Rory ended the soft kiss far too soon for her liking. He traced one finger over her forehead and down her cheek. “You take it easy today. When you get home, how about we take a walk down by the creek and talk.”

She held the words of love lodged in her throat, thinking that tonight, when they were alone at sunset by the water, would be a perfect time to tell him. “I'd like that.”

“Do you mind if we keep this”—he cocked his head toward her belly—“to ourselves for a little while?”

“It's best to keep it to ourselves for the first trimester. The chances of losing the baby are greatest in the first couple months.”

“How do you know that?”

“I got a book last week. I've been reading it in my truck on my lunch break.”

“You've known for a week and didn't say anything.”

“I wasn't hiding it from you. I wanted to be sure.”

He took two steps away, then turned back to her. “If you're not feeling well and need me to come get you, call me. I've always got my cell with me. If you can't reach me, call the ranch. Granddad can reach me on one of the radios.”

“I'm fine, honey. Really.”

“I need you to know if you need me . . .”

“I already know, Rory. I'll see you tonight when I get home. Pack us a sunset picnic to take on our walk.”

She almost hesitated to suggest another picnic after the way the last one turned out, but Rory gave her a soft, indulgent smile and nodded, making her glad
she'd said it, giving them a chance to put the past to rest and start new tonight. He turned and left to catch up with his brothers and start his work day, especially since he'd slept in with her again.

Sadie turned back to the desk for her tea. She took a sip and stared down at the huge photo of the ranch from above. Quite a spread. The creek ran down one side. A river snaked through the top portion. Grassland, clumps of trees, dirt roads, and cows spread over thousands of acres. Something caught her attention, but she wasn't quite sure what she saw. It looked like a misty cloud over a rocky hill, but the helicopter couldn't have been up that high to hover over a cloud. It hit her all at once. Not a cloud. Smoke from a stove or fire venting out of the hill through a natural or manmade hole. A cave. The perfect place to hide an illegal meth lab and a bunch of wanted criminals.

Rory's words came back to her.
I'm trying to keep you safe.
As much as she'd like to save her brother from jail, she had to face the truth. She couldn't save him from anything anymore. He'd crossed the line. Rory wanted to protect her. She wanted to protect their child and their life together. She wanted to move forward. Tell Rory she loved him. Marry him. Raise this child and more with him.

She turned the pad of paper on the desk around, found a pen under the stack of photos and wrote Rory a note.

Rory, you smoked Connor out. I've given him until sunset to turn himself in. If he doesn't, I'll call Agent Cooke myself. I can't wait to see you tonight. Love, Sadie.

Sadie set the note on the picture and went into the kitchen to drop her mug in the dishwasher and pull her phone out of her purse. She found the last number Connor used to contact her and texted him.

SADIE: Connor, this is your last chance. Turn yourself in by sunset and I will pay for a lawyer to represent you against the MANY charges against you. If not, you're on your own.