The Cowboy's Sweetheart (11 page)

“Move it, quick.” Her stomach roiled and she dived as he reached for the trash can and stuck it under her face. If she breathed in, she'd lose it. If she closed her eyes and didn't breathe, that wouldn't be good, either.

“You okay?” He leaned down, a little green.

“Get rid of the pancakes.”

“Got it.” He grabbed the tray and as he headed out the door, she sat up. He peeked back inside the room. “Sorry about that.”

“Not a problem,” she groaned and leaned back on the pillows.

“I wanted to do something.” He stepped back into the room, without the tray, and leaned against her dresser. He picked up a framed picture of the two of them on a
pony she'd had years ago. His gaze came up, connecting with hers. “I feel like I need to take care of you.”

“I don't want you to feel that way.” She pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged on her bed. “This isn't us. We aren't uncomfortable, trying to figure out where we fit in each other's lives. I don't want you bringing me pancakes and holding the trash can for me. I don't want you to feel like you have to do this.”

“But I do. You didn't get this way alone.”

She stuck her fingers in her ears and shook her head, juvenile, but effective. “Don't.”

He picked up the picture again. “It would have been easier to stay ten, wouldn't it?”

“Yeah, that'd be perfect. But it doesn't work that way.”

“No, it doesn't.”

“You don't have to stay here and take care of me. I know you have things to do, places to go.”

“People to see?” He straightened and moved away from the dresser, a lanky cowboy with faded jeans and a hat that had been stepped on a few times. “I'm here, Andie. I'm in this for the long haul. This is the place where I'm supposed to be.”

Etta popped into the room. “You're up. And you don't have to worry about a thing. Ryder fed the horses for you, and he even helped me pick the last of my green beans.”

Andie swept her gaze from her aunt to Ryder. “You don't have to feed for me. You don't have to take care of me.”

She didn't want to get used to him being there for her this way.

“Before you have this conversation, I wanted you to know that Caroline called. She asked about you and I
told her what happened.” Etta stood inside the door, not looking as apologetic as Andie would have liked.

“I wish you wouldn't have.” The last thing she needed was for Caroline, her mother, to come rushing back to Dawson.

“She asked and I couldn't lie. And she said to tell you she loves you.”

This couldn't be her life. Andie rubbed her hands over her face, trying hard to think about the mother who left, and the mother who had finally returned. Caroline had claimed she couldn't do it, couldn't be a mother to both of her daughters. At that moment it was harder than ever to understand how Caroline could walk away.

“It's okay, Gran.” Andie smiled up at her grandmother. “Life changes, right?”

“It does change.”

Etta slipped back out of the room. Andie could hear her careful steps going down the stairs. Ryder moved to the chair next to Andie's bed and sat down, taking off his hat and tossing it on the table next to him.

“You don't have to be here every day.”

“You need to get over this.” He raked his hand through his hair and let out a sigh. “I'm here because I want to be.”

“You're here because you feel guilty, or obligated.”

“No, I'm here because I'd be here no matter what the situation. When have I not been there for you?”

She could have told him that he hadn't been there for her two months ago, when he hadn't answered her phone calls. But then she remembered last night and how he'd held her while she cried, how he'd been there for her when it really counted.

He had always been there for her.

“I know,” she whispered. “But this isn't easy, not being able to get up.”

“I have a feeling it'll only get worse.”

“Thanks.” She wiped at her eyes and ignored how he shifted in the chair and fiddled with his hat, not making eye contact.

“How do you feel today?” he finally asked.

“Cagey, kind of angry, and definitely tired of this bed.”

He laughed. “You've only been there for about ten hours. Multiply a few times over and maybe you'll have an idea what the next couple of weeks are going to be like.”

“Thanks for the optimism.”

She leaned back in the bed and tried to push the days and hours from her mind. She could do this for her baby.

 

Ryder stood up, because he had a lot to get done, but first, he had to try one more time. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring that had been his grandmother's. He'd loved her, his grandmother. She had died when he was barely ten, but he remembered her smile, the way she'd listened when he told stories.

Andie focused on the pancakes that he'd set on the dresser. “I'll take those now.”

“Okay.” He reached for the foam container but he didn't hand it to her yet. She stared up at him, blue eyes rimmed with the dark remnants of mascara from the day before.

“Stop.”

“What?” He stopped in the center of her bedroom, the room that hadn't ever changed. It still had framed
photos of horses, a quilt made by her great grandmother and an antique rocking chair near the window.

Some things didn't change. And some did. No use looking in the rearview mirror when you're driving forward. An old rodeo friend had told him more than once. Greg was a rodeo clown and he raised race horses in Oklahoma City. He had a wife and kids, a real family.

People did manage to have families. He knew that. Men managed to stay married and stay faithful. Kids grew up with two parents in a home where they felt loved.

“Stop looking like that.” Andie hugged her knees close to her body.

Ryder pulled the ring out of his pocket. He held it in one hand, the box of pancakes in the other and Andie's eyes widened as she watched him. She shook her head a little.

“Andie, please marry me. I haven't done the right thing very often in my life, but I really feel like this is the one time that I'm doing what needs to be done.”

She actually laughed. “Seriously? That's your proposal.”

He shoved the ring back into his pocket and handed her the pancakes. “What else am I supposed to say?”

“Love, Ryder. Marriage is about love and forever. Not ‘doing what needs to be done.' Seriously, that's lame.”

Well, thanks for that piece of information. He bristled because she was still smiling and he felt like a stinking fool.

“You'll have to forgive me if proposals aren't my strong suit. This isn't what I expected. I'm pretty sure it isn't what you expected. But we can sure do the right thing.”

“I know we can, but this isn't it. I haven't put a lot
of thought into marriage, either, but I can tell you one thing for certain, I'm not going to marry someone who doesn't love me.”

“Love doesn't have too many guarantees, Andie. I know a lot of divorced couples who claimed to love one another. We've been through a lot together. We could make this work.”

“And you'd end up resenting me. You might end up resenting the baby.” She glanced up, her eyes were vivid blue and seeking something from him. He didn't have a clue what she wanted him to say.

She'd already pointed out that the proposal had been wrong. If that was the case, then he was pretty close to clueless.

“Fine, if the answer is no, then I'll live with it. But I'm this baby's father and I'm going to be here. I'm going to be a good dad.”

“I know you will, Ryder.”

Her eyes were soft and she already looked like someone's mom. And he still felt like the guy he'd been a month ago. Maybe she was right, he wasn't ready for this, for fatherhood.

Did other men just come equipped for this role?

“I have to go.”

“Where…” She smiled. “I'm sorry, it isn't any of my business.”

“I've got some bull calves that need to be taken care of. The vet's coming out this afternoon. Johnny Morgan is coming out to look at that mare I've been trying to sell.”

“I wanted that mare.”

“I thought you changed your mind.”

She looked down and they were both thinking the
same thing; he knew they were. She wouldn't be riding for a while.

Finally she smiled, “Yeah, I guess I've changed my mind. Johnny wants her for his daughter. I'm not sure that's a good match.”

“I'll try to switch him to another horse then.” He started to turn away, and he should have. Instead he leaned to kiss her cheek, just her cheek. “I'll be back later to check on you. Eat your breakfast.”

She nodded and he walked to the door. His hand went to his pocket, to the ring that she'd rejected twice. She wanted to marry someone who loved her. He shook his head, not sure what to think about that.

If she didn't marry him, she'd marry someone else. Someday some other guy would know the right words. The thought turned around inside him. He didn't like to think of her married to another man. He tried not to picture it, her with another man's ring on her finger. His kid being raised by some other guy. What if that guy wasn't good to them? He thought if that happened, he'd have to hurt someone.

Or convince her to marry him before it happened. But the way things were going, he was far from convincing her that marriage was the right thing to do.

A
ndie woke up to the sound of footsteps coming down the hall toward her room. Lighter steps, not Ryder's. She blinked a few times and glanced at the clock. It was one o'clock. He'd left hours ago. A light rap on the door and then Alyson peeked in. Andie brushed her hair back from her face and sat up, already smiling.

“What are you doing here?” Andie hadn't seen her sister in weeks because of schedules and because she'd needed time to adjust to having this sister back in her life. Alyson had moved back to the area, but she'd had obligations, concerts she couldn't cancel.

Alyson shrugged, “I heard from a little birdie that you might need to be cheered up.”

“You have a concert in L.A.”

“Not until next week. And then I'm flying home to finish up the wedding plans. And you'd better get yourself together before the end of October so you can be my maid of honor.” Alyson pushed the blankets aside and sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you?”

“Great.”

“You're not great. If you were great you'd have some
thing catty to say, or you might pick a fight with me. But you wouldn't have mascara smeared to your chin…”

“Seriously?” Andie rubbed at her cheeks.

“Seriously.” Alyson walked to the dresser and picked up a small mirror. She pulled a few tissues out of the box. “You might want to get out of bed and wash your face, maybe brush your hair.”

“I'm on bed rest.”

“Yeah, but really, you can't go a month without brushing your hair.”

Yes, she thought she could. If staying in bed was a way to hide from reality, she could do it. She took the mirror that Alyson held out to her.

Andie held the mirror up and ran her fingers through her hair, untangling it and then wiping away the mascara by method of the age old spit bath. “I look worse than something that cat of yours would drag in.”

“Not even close.” Alyson sat back down on the edge of the bed. “Do you want to talk?”

“About what? About making a huge mistake? About being pregnant? Or about the possibility that I could lose the baby?” Andie closed her eyes. “Do you know how guilty I feel? I told myself this baby is a mistake. I was upset about being pregnant. I resented what this would do to my life.” She sighed. “If you notice, all three problems were about me, about how I would be affected. And now this is happening and the only thing I can think of now is how can I keep my baby safe.”

“I think every single emotion you've had is probably realistic in your situation.” Alyson pushed her over a little and scooted up next to her so that they were side by side on the bed, backs against the headboard.

Etta had told them they shared a crib when they were
babies and when they moved to toddler beds they had refused to sleep alone.

And then they'd been ripped apart.

“I'm worried that I have too much of Caroline Anderson's DNA,” Andie whispered. “What if I have a baby and then realize that I can't do this? What if I'm the type of mom who can't handle it?”

“You aren't our mother.”

“I don't know that.”

Alyson leaned close and their heads touched. “I do.”

Andie nodded because she couldn't get the words out, couldn't tell her sister about Ryder's proposal, about him wanting to marry her, but not loving her.

“Let me help you with the wedding.”

Alyson laughed. “You want to plan a wedding?”

“I can do something. I can at least keep you from making a frilly, lacy mistake.”

“Okay, I'll get the books and you can help me. I need to pick out flowers. Oh, and your dress. I'm thinking pink.”

“You're not.”

Alyson laughed again. “No, I'm not. The wedding is going to be fall colors.”

Andie sank back into her pillow as her sister left the room, her feet light on the stairs as she went down, calling for Etta. One sister happy, and one trying to be happy.

What if she said yes to Ryder? What would their wedding be like? Would it be a quick trip to a judge? Or something quiet on a weekday afternoon, just them, Etta and Pastor Jeffries.

As much as she'd never planned her wedding, Andie couldn't imagine either scenario. She groaned and
covered her face with her hands. She suddenly wanted white lace and a man looking at her like she meant everything to him.

The way Jason looked at Alyson, not the cornered way Ryder looked at her. He hadn't ever looked at her this way, as if she was a stranger, or a problem he had to fix.

A cramp tightened around her stomach and she rested her hand there, praying the baby would stay safe, stay inside her where it could grow and be hers someday. Changes, life was definitely about changes.

She closed her eyes and thought about bargaining with God. But it wasn't about a bargain, it was about faith, about God's plan. She knew that and yet… She rested her hand on her stomach and fought against fear.

“You okay?”

Andie opened her eyes and smiled for her sister. “Yeah, I'm good.”

“You don't look good.”

“Pain. It isn't the same as yesterday. I think resting has helped. And the doctor prescribed some cream that is supposed to do something with my hormones.”

“I'm glad.” Alyson put down the pile of magazines. “You know I'll be here for you.”

“I know you will.” A year ago that wouldn't have been the case. But now, Alyson would be just down the road. Nothing ever stayed the same, Etta's song said. It was a bittersweet message of loss and gain.

“Ryder was down at the barn when I got here earlier.”

“That's good.” Andie wanted her sister to forget stories about Ryder. She pointed to the magazines as a direct hint.

“He's pretty sweet about all of this. When Etta mentions the baby, his eyes get damp. Cute.”

“Right. Cute is what you want when coupled with, ‘Hey, sweetie, let's get married. It's the right thing to do.' Isn't that cute?”

“What do you want him to say?”

Andie fiddled with the soft, worn edges of the quilt. Etta had threatened to get rid of it, but Andie loved it because it was familiar and comfortable.

“You want him to say that he loves you?” Alyson set books on the table next to Andie's bed. “Because you love him?”

“I don't really want to talk about it.”

Alyson giggled and it wasn't like her, to giggle. Or to push. “So that's the way this is working out. You, the person who gave me advice to be careful with my heart, has lost yours.”

“I haven't lost my heart.”

But hadn't she? Wasn't it splintering off into tiny pieces, breaking apart each time he proposed with silly words about friendship and doing the right thing?

And as much as she didn't want her thoughts to turn that direction, she thought about what would happen to them if they lost the baby. What would happen if she said yes and then there wasn't a baby to hold them together?

 

The sight that met Ryder when he walked into his living room nearly undid him. He didn't need this after dealing with Andie and then working thirty head of rangy bull calves that weren't too partial to what the vet had to do with them. He stood in the doorway of his living room and stared. He counted to ten, reminding himself that they were little girls. But the little girls
in question were sitting on his living room floor with sidewalk chalk, drawing pictures on his floor and his coffee table. He loved that table.

“What are you guys doing?” His voice roared a little, but he couldn't help it.

“We aren't boys.” Molly stopped drawing long enough to inform him. “We're girls and we're drawing.”

“That's sidewalk chalk.” He scooped up the box and the chalk they weren't holding. “Sidewalk, as in outside, on concrete. Not inside on floors.”

“We can wash it off.” Molly kept doodling something that looked like a cat.

“Where's your dad?” Ryder held out his hand and they handed over the chalk they were still using.

Be a dad, he told himself. Be a dad. He knew what his dad would have done if he'd caught Ryder and Wyatt doing something like this. It would have started with a belt and ended with the two of them not being able to sit down for a week.

That parenting example wasn't going to work so he had to think of something on his own. He looked down at the girls. They were staring up at him, two brown-eyed little angels with smudges of pink, green and yellow on their cheeks. Kat rubbed at her nose and left a dot of orange behind.

“I need for the two of you to come with me. We're going to clean this mess up and you're not going to do this again.” Ryder motioned for the two girls to head for the door.

“What happened?” Wyatt asked, looking a little frazzled. His hair was too long and he hadn't shaved since he rolled into town with that moving truck.

How did a guy go from dating, rodeoing, living his own life, to this? He wasn't Mr. Family Guy. He didn't
do
baby wipes, diapers and cleaning up kid messes. At least that didn't used to be his life.

He sure wasn't going to raise his older brother on top of everything else.

Get used to it, big shot.
His good self smirked at his bad self; as if there had been a major victory of some sort. Rip the good life right out from under a guy and then be happy about it.

“We're cleaning up a mess.” Ryder answered and he glanced back over his shoulder, at what was obviously a zoo of chalk-drawn characters on his floor and table. “Where were you?”

Wyatt shrugged. “I had to figure out what to feed them for supper. I was in the basement going through the freezer.”

“Yeah, well, feel free to go to the store.”

“I'll do that.” Wyatt took the chalk.

Ryder walked down the hall to the kitchen, his brother and nieces following. He dug through the cabinet under the sink and pulled out wipes that promised to clean kitchen cabinets, woodwork and bathrooms. All purpose, of course. He handed it to the girls.

“What do we do?” Molly stared at the container.

He smiled, because she was little and trying to act so big. And not once had she backed down when faced with his anger. He stayed on the floor, at eye level with her.

He wanted to hug her, not punish her.

“We're going to clean up the chalk. And I'll help you.”

Molly's eyes lit up a little. “Okay.”

He wasn't such a bad uncle. He stood up and Molly took his hand. Kat grabbed his leg so he picked her up.

“How's Andie?” Wyatt followed him into the living room.

“I thought you were looking for something to cook?”

Wyatt took Kat from his arms. She had a wipe in her hands and she struggled to get down. Wyatt set her free to start cleaning. He stepped back, watching. Ryder lifted his gaze to meet his brother's.

“We'll just have Mad Cow again.” Wyatt sat down next to Molly and showed her how to rub the chalk off the floor. “What about Andie?”

That was fine, Ryder didn't do family meals. He could slap some microwaved something on a plate, but the whole nutrition pyramid wasn't in his diet. He glanced back at the girls because they probably needed some of the stuff on that pyramid. At least Vera had vegetables at the Mad Cow.

Wyat cleared his throat, reminding Ryder of the question about Andie.

“She's doing good. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I proposed again. She turned me down again.”

Wyatt moved from the floor to the sofa. “Well, how did you propose?”

“Are you the proposal expert?”

“No, but I've had more experience than you. At least with a real relationship.”

“Yeah, well…”

“If you want her to say yes, you have to show her how special she is to you. You have to do more than pull out a ring and say, ‘Hey baby, how 'bout we get hitched.'”

“Andie isn't about romance.”

Wyatt laughed. “Have you been under a rock? She's
a woman. She's having a baby, your baby. She wants romance.”

“Chocolates and flowers?” Ryder hadn't ever bought a woman flowers.

“Do what you've always done. But maybe this time, mean it.”

“She knows she's my best friend.” Ryder showed Molly a spot on the floor that still had the smudged outline of a snake. She wiped it up with dimpled, pudgy hands. He looked at her hands and suddenly those hands meant everything. His baby would have hands like that, soft and pudgy. His kid.

But maybe his kid would have blond hair like Andie. Maybe she'd have his eyes, or his curls. He blinked and looked away from his niece, to the brother that was trying to give him advice.

“Ryder, I don't know how long you're going to tell yourself that Andie is just a friend, but there's something you ought to think about.”

“What's that?” He was still thinking about Molly's hands and he wondered how Wyatt felt the first time he held his daughter. But he didn't want to ask.

“You might ought to think about the fact that she's the longest relationship you've ever had.”

His longest relationship. He brushed his hands down the legs of his jeans and smiled at Molly, whose wide eyes clued him in to the possibility that wiping dirt on clothes was bad.

“Yeah, I guess you're right, she is.” He leaned and kissed Molly on the top of the head. She smiled up at him and then she went back to scrubbing.

“You think I might be right?” Wyatt got down on the floor to help his girls. “That's a huge change.”

Ryder stood up, still holding the container of wipes.
Yeah, huge change. But he'd had a lot of changes in his life. Not all bad. He watched the girls as they finished scrubbing his table. Change wasn't the worst thing in the world.

“I don't want to be like our dad. I don't want to mess up a kid the way we were messed up. Did you ever feel that way? Were you afraid to have kids?”