The Baby Race (21 page)

Standing unseen in the shadows, Claire
watched as Race snatched up the wet, limp foal. Tears blurred her
vision for the valiant little mare who'd endured so much and
struggled so hard to survive. A mother-to-be Claire understood
Melody's determination and sacrifice. But mostly she cried for the
pain she saw on Race's face as he fought to save the foal.

Vicki and War stood by silently.

Race rubbed the foal's limp body vigorously
with a clean towel, clearing the blood and mucus from its mouth and
nostrils. Still the foal didn't stir. Then Race cupped his hands
around the foal's muzzle, covered its mouth and nostrils with his
own mouth and blew. The foal's chest expanded then deflated. Again
Race blew. Three more times he blew until the foal gave a sudden
kick and snorted into Race's face. The foal gave a plaintive cry
and instinctively tried to stand.

His face streaked with blood and saliva, Race
helped the wobbly baby to its feet.

Gravel crunched as a truck roared into the
yard. A door slammed and a few minutes later Annie, the vet rushed
into the stall.

Her gaze took in the too still mare and the
wobbly foal. "Sorry it took me so long." She didn't say anything
else as she went to work on the foal.

Race sat back on his heels as Annie took
over. His gaze shifted to Melody and some of the joy faded from his
face. "There wasn't much you could have done. The mare was too old
to be pregnant. She hemorrhaged."

Annie looked up from working on the wiggling
foal. "Did you want me to do an autopsy?"

Race shook his head. "No. We both know what
killed her. Age and abuse."

"I'll send a truck for her in the morning."
Annie picked up the foal. "Now, where did you want this little
filly?"

Vicki stepped forward and took the foal.
"Race you go on in and get cleaned up. War and I will take care of
her tonight."

Race looked over at War who nodded his
agreement. "Thanks. Come get me if there's any problem." After
Vicki and War left, Race turned to Annie. "And Annie, thanks for
coming out."

Annie smiled. "No problem. That's what I do.
You did a great job here. Based on Melody's condition when she
first came to you, I wouldn't have bet on either mother or foal
surviving. It would have been easy to lose both of them. Instead
you've got a strong, healthy little filly. She's going to be a
beauty. I'll stop back tomorrow to check on her. You know what to
do." It was a statement, not a question. "Get some rest. You look
like shit."

Race gave a wisp of a grin. "Glad to hear it.
Hate to feel this bad and not have it show."

Annie's truck rumbled out of the yard and
Race knelt alone next to Melody's corpse. None of them had noticed
Claire standing in the shadows.

Dressed in her nightgown and robe, her bare
feet slipped into a pair of Race's oversized boots, despite the
warmth of the barn, she shivered. The shadow of death lingered
here.

Head bent, his long hair fell forward to hide
his face. His shoulders shook as he gently stroked the dead mare's
neck. Claire's heart ached for him. Without thinking she stepped
forward and knelt next to him.

"Race, I'm so sorry."

He turned his face to her. Tears streamed
unchecked and unashamed down his cheeks.

She opened her arms and he moved into her
embrace. Silent sobs wracked his body. She held him close and tight
as he cried. No words passed between them. None were needed. Soon
her tears mingled with his while they wept for lives wasted and
lost.

How long they knelt on the soiled straw next
to the lifeless mare, Claire didn't know. Minutes or hours later
she didn't object when Race swung her into his arms and carried her
into the house.

Nor did she argue when he stripped them both
bare and pulled her into the shower. Warm water washed away blood
and straw, but couldn't touch the grief that lingered in their
hearts.

"Don't leave. Stay with me tonight," Race
whispered against her lips.

He didn't offer her love or forever, but
Claire sensed the deep need inside him, the need that gave him the
courage to ask for this night. Was it enough?

"Yes."

~~~~~

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Claire made her way carefully across the town
square and sank gratefully down on an empty bench. Laughing
children dashed everywhere searching for colorful plastic eggs. On
the bandstand a giant white Easter bunny held court.

A triumphant smile on her face, Vicki served
as assistant, guiding children to the bunny's lap, taking their
pictures and giving them chocolate eggs. If Claire hadn't seen him
don the outfit, she would never have believed the bunny suit hid
the taciturn War. Despite the ten-year age difference between them,
Vicki had set her sights on War. And knowing how strong willed and
determined Vicki was, Claire wouldn't bet against her.

With a half groan, half grunt, Lizzie plopped
down next to her. They grinned at each other and turned to watch
the excited children collect their treasure.

"I can't believe we still have nearly two
months left to go." Lizzie patted her belly. "Look at us, two
beached walruses. Or is that walri?"

Claire giggled. "We are a pair, aren't
we?"

Lizzie glanced away and stirred the gravel
with her foot. "Ah, Claire, Colin's been pressuring me to ask Doc
Burton for the results of the ultrasound. He says he wants to know
if the baby's a boy or a girl so we can decorate the nursery
appropriately. But I think he wants to end this baby race nonsense.
If the baby's a girl we can relax and enjoy these last few weeks
without that stupid race hanging over our heads."

"And if it's a boy?"

"Colin doesn't give a damn about the money,
never has, and I don't care anymore either. We've put the past
behind us where it belongs.

"I know it was my idea to keep them
guessing," Lizzie continued. "They deserved to suffer, but do you
think it really matters anymore if we know ahead of time?"

The wistful note in Lizzie's usually strong,
determined voice told Claire just how much the other woman was
hurting. She covered Lizzie's hand with her own. "Go ahead. Find
out and tell him. I think he's - you've both suffered enough."

Lizzie hugged her. "Thanks, Claire. What
about you? Do you want to know? Will you tell Race?"

"Don't worry about me. You do what's right
for you and Colin."

"Thanks." Lizzie lumbered to her feet and
waddled off, leaving Claire alone with her thoughts.

Did she want to know whether Whosit was a boy
or a girl? There was something to be said for being surprised.

If she knew, would she tell Race? Once Claire
had casually brought up the subject of how they might spend the
baby bonus money if Whosit was the first-born boy. Race had turned
white and stalked out of the room.

She knew he was hiding something from her,
but couldn't figure out what. She should just ask, but feared that
even if she did, he wouldn't answer. And worse, he would retreat
back into the shell that she'd just succeeded in cracking open.

What secret could be so bad? If their
marriage was going to work, especially without love, they had to
trust each other.

"Mommy, look!" Before she ran off to collect
more, Bobbie Sue dumped an armful of plastic eggs in Claire's lap.
Or rather tried to. Claire hadn't had a lap for a couple of months
now. The eggs rolled off her thighs to the ground. Several broke
open revealing the small wrapped treats enclosed.

With a groan, Claire bent over to pick up the
eggs and candy. Overbalanced by her pregnancy, she started to
tumble forward. She gasped in fear and wrapped her arms
protectively across her belly. The gravel rushed toward her face.
She squeezed her eyes shut against the coming pain.

Strong arms stopped her fall. "Whoa
there."

"Race." Claire's heart thudded madly in her
chest. She clung to his neck as he sat on the bench and settled her
on his lap.

"What are you trying to do? Fall on your
face?" he scolded, but there was no heat in his voice, just a
gentle concern. "Are you hurt?"

"No, just a little shaken. Guess I forgot
about Whosit here." She touched the mound of her belly. "It's
really a problem not being able to bend and always being off
balance. I'm fine. You can let me up now."

"Nope. I kinda like having you here."

"You've got to be kidding. I weigh a ton.
I'll break your legs."

"I thought you liked having a powerful animal
under you?"

Claire groaned. Had she really said that in
the heat of passion?

No. She'd been talking about a horse at the
time. She pulled away and glared at him. "You're hardly a
horse."

"But I'm a real stud." He grinned and looked
pointedly at her swollen belly.

This playful, teasing side of Race left
Claire breathless with excitement. An excitement they couldn't do a
thing about given the advanced state of her pregnancy.

Damn, she wanted him. But even if he wanted
her in this condition, there was no way around her belly or the
doctor's strong suggestion they refrain from sex. She understood
the reason for caution, she'd been spotting. The doctor said it
wasn't cause for alarm, just to take it easy and no sex. The taking
it easy part was no problem, but oh, how she missed the intimacy
she'd barely discovered.

Race wiggled his eyebrows suggestively then
bent his head and blew a raspberry against her throat. Her laugh
vibrated through his lips.

Damn, he wanted her. And damn the doctor for
putting an abrupt end to their lovemaking. They'd barely found each
other before that sadistic doctor had suggested they not have sex
until after the baby came. Understanding the reason didn't make the
celibacy any easier. When he'd asked her to stay with him in his
bed, what he'd really wanted was to plead with her to promise to
stay with him forever. But he lacked the courage.

When Claire learned the truth would there be
any "after" for them?

Even if he made her promise, he doubted she'd
stay with him. Promises meant little in Race's life. He didn't
trust them. Time after time, his mother had promised to stop
drinking, to stop dragging home strange men, to stop hitting him,
to be a better mother. She'd broken every one. He didn't expect
more from anyone.

Dark clouds scuttled across the sky, blocking
the sun and chilling the air. Claire shivered. Beneath his arm the
baby shifted and kicked. A sense of impending doom made him tighten
his hold. Claire snuggled closer.

In less than two months Whosit would be born.
Boy or girl, Claire would learn the truth. If he lost the ranch,
he'd have little to offer her, Bobbie Sue or the baby. He couldn't
even provide the money promised in the pre-nuptial agreement.
Banner had taken it all. And if she thought he deliberately got her
pregnant to win the Baby Race, she'd hate him.

"What's wrong?" Claire leaned back in his
arms. Her gentle gaze searched his face.

The urge to tell her everything nearly
overwhelmed him. He shook it off. He couldn't burden her with the
truth while she was pregnant.

Coward! She deserved the truth, but he was
too afraid of her reaction to tell her. He wanted - needed each day
that remained. Soon enough she'd be gone and he'd be alone
again.

"Are you going to ask the doc about the
ultrasound?" The question slipped out.

She shook her head slowly. Her soft hair
brushed his cheek. "No. You can if you want. But I don't want to
know. I want little Whosit to be born without expectations of
winning some stupid contest. Every child deserves to be valued for
his or herself. Do you understand?"

"Yes." He understood. It was what every child
deserved, but not every child received what it deserved. "We'd
better head home. It's getting cold out and it's going to rain.
Looks like Bobbie Sue's reached the load limit on eggs." He nodded
at the little girl staggering toward them with an armload of
colorful eggs.

Thunder rumbled.

"I think you're right. Let me up." She pushed
out of his hold and stood. "Here." She handed Bobbie Sue a plastic
bag. "Put all your eggs in this."

Bobbie Sue bent quickly to the task.

The skies opened. A torrent of cold spring
rain sent everyone scrambling for cover.

Race picked up Bobbie Sue. He held his jacket
over their heads as they hurried for his truck, but the downpour
drenched them in seconds.

Two days later Claire woke up with a scratchy
throat. By the end of the day she was running a fever and her head
was congested. With Bobbie Sue already in bed and Race out in his
workshop working on a rush order, Claire cleaned the kitchen and
headed toward the living room. Head pounding and back aching, she
collapsed on the couch and dozed off.

Long after midnight, Race left his boots by
the back door, and padded softly through the dark house in his
stocking feet. In response to the savory smells of fresh rolls and
stew lingering in the air from supper his stomach rumbled, but
fatigue won out over hunger.

Upstairs, he peeked in on Bobbie Sue. Curled
beneath a mound of stuffed animals, she slept the sleep of the
innocent. At her side Cassandra hissed and eyed him warily as he
tucked a comforter around the little girl.

"Easy there, your majesty." Race stroked the
cat's ruffled fur. "I love her as much as you." How easy it was to
say the words when no one but a cat could hear.

Satisfied that her beloved mistress was safe
from this intruder the cat settled down and began to purr.

"I love you too, Daddy."

Bobbie Sue's sleepy murmur sent a shaft of
pain through his chest. Without her in his life, his heart would be
empty. As always, life teased him with a glimpse of happiness that
he knew couldn't last. What he wanted couldn't count against what
Bobbie Sue needed – a stable home with two loving parents.