Chapter 20
Chapter 20
M eanwhile, an hour away at Ridge Ranch, Calhoun Ridge saw a whole new side of his wife. For as long as he’d known her, which was admittedly not long in the scheme of things, she had been a rational sort of person, one who eschewed emotion and stuck to thinking and planning instead. She was cool, calculated, and fastidious in her reserve and good judgment. So it came as something of a surprise to him when, a few weeks into her pregnancy, she suddenly turned into a quivering mass of inconsolable weeping.
The first time it happened, he walked into the house, saw her prostrate on the kitchen floor, and thought something dreadful had happened to her or their unborn child. When he was finally able to get the story out of her, it turned out that the barn cat killed a mouse and left it on the doorstep. She felt sad for the mouse, this woman who, as a Marine Major, had personally killed eleven enemy combatants and beaten several more into unconsciousness. As he picked up a shovel and prepared to bury a dead mouse for the first time in his life, he had the thought that perhaps this pregnancy, while joyful and much wanted, might not be all rainbows and sunshine.
The second time she burst into tears was because she burned a pan of biscuits. “I can’t do anything right,” she wailed, and he stared at her, the most capable woman he had ever known, amazed and speechless. She caught his look and cried harder. “I know, I hear it, but it’s like something else has taken over my body and I can’t stop all these words and tears from pouring out of me.” She scrubbed her face with a wadded napkin. “If this is what it’s like to be a normal girl, I hate it.” Then she laid her head on the table and sobbed until Cal finally rallied, picked her up, and held her close. After that the tears dried fairly quickly and instead of feeling helpless, Cal had been left feeling a cocksure sort of power. When his wife wept for reasons that made no sense, he and he alone seemed to be the cure. It was a heady sensation, one he didn’t think he would grow tired of quickly.
But when she saw her sister in the maternity store and realized her good friend had been the one to get her pregnant on a whim, even Cal hadn’t been able to console her or bring her back from her surge of angry passion.
“How could they? Our wedding,” she had fumed.
“Honey, they’re human,” Cal had inserted, and the look she gave him was enough to make him stay silent for the long drive home.
He thought her anger would abate, and it did at her sister. But the simmering ire toward Sully never dimmed. She seemed to take it as a personal attack, as if Sully had purposely preyed on Poppy during a weak moment. She stopped mentioning it, but he knew she still held on to the resentment, might hold on to it forever, knowing her. Bailey was a woman who demanded perfection, both from herself and from those around her. When someone let her down, especially by breaking her unspoken code, she was both unwilling and unable to forgive. As someone who had struggled with that very thing, Cal felt he was able to help her, but he had to wait for the perfect moment.
It came a couple of weeks after they learned the news of Poppy’s pregnancy. “Bailey, come in here a minute,” he called from his office.
She smiled in anticipation as she stepped into the room. He had been teaching her the ropes of the ranch since her arrival, and she took to it eagerly, always ready and willing to learn and listen. For Cal, who never imagined having the sort of marriage that would give him an equal partner in everything, her interest and enthusiasm were like a gift. But today ranching wasn’t on his agenda. He reached for her, pulling her into his lap.
“Look at his,” he said, motioning toward the computer when she remained staring at him. “It’s an article in the paper about Poppy and her bakery.”
“Oh,” she said, turning to the screen with interest. Despite any lingering irritation with her sister, she was proud of her new venture. And, after their father’s visit and resulting lecture, she was ready to make amends and heal the rift, at least with Poppy. Cal had purposely scrolled down, hiding the picture at the top of the page while she read.
“What a great article,” she commented. “She’s doing so well. Honestly, Poppy’s always been so soft and fickle. It’s both amazing and a little shocking to see her putting so much focus and dedication into something.” She paused. “I’m going to call her.”
“Hold on,” Cal said, reaching for the mouse. “Look at this picture.” He scrolled up, revealing the picture of Poppy and Sully at the top of the page.
“Oh,” Bailey said, gasping a little as she leaned in for a better look.
“You see it, don’t you?” he asked.
“I don’t see anything,” she stubbornly insisted, turning her head to look at him instead of the faces on the screen. He took her head and turned it toward the picture.
“Look at his face and tell me he’s not in love with her.”
After a few seconds of stubborn silence, she sighed. “I can’t. I see it, he is. But he…”
“Yes, he did. He was wrong, and he is sorry. But he’s only a man, a mere mortal. He’s our friend, and he’s your niece or nephew’s father, and you need to forgive him and move on.”
Defeated, she rested her head on his shoulder. “I really hate it when people screw up and let me down, when they make me disappointed because they’re less than I thought they were.”
“I know,” he said, gently rubbing her back where he knew it ached. “But, honey, as much as we might try to be, none of us is perfect. Everyone has the potential to fail or mess up. With that in mind, which is worse, messing up to begin with or refusing to give grace and forgiveness to those who need it most?”
“I’ve been such an emotional basket case lately. Thank you for believing you can still appeal to my logic and I’ll hear you,” she said, sitting up to cup his face in her hands.
“Does that mean you’re ready to forgive Sully and move on?” he asked.
“Yes. Now kiss me quick before the pregnant crazy lady makes a return and starts weeping,” she said.
“I have a confession for you, darlin’. I like the crazy pregnant lady as much as her rational counterpart. It’s like sexy Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde,” he said.
She shifted, straddling him in the chair so her little belly was pushed against his. “You know what I’m going to do today?”
“Call your sister and Sully?” he guessed, his heart thundering as always from her nearness.
She shook her head and slid her arms around him. “I’m going to declare today Sunday. You’re going to take the day off and be with your wife. You know why?”
He shook his head, speech failing him.
“Because, buddy, we’re on the clock. A few more months of you and me, and then forever after we’ll be at least three.”
He swallowed hard as she eased forward and kissed his neck. “When you put it like that, let’s make every day Sunday.”
“Whatever you say, boss,” she agreed, and kissed him again.
T he next day Sully looked up from his computer and did a double take when Bailey stood in his doorway.
“Are you here to kill me? Because there are witnesses who saw you arrive,” he said.
“Witnesses can be erased,” she said, helping herself to the chair across from his desk.
His eyes took note of her belly, bigger than Poppy’s. Bailey’s stomach had been hard and flat to begin with; the baby had nowhere to go but out. Poppy was softer, fuller, her body readier to absorb the newcomer. He got caught up a moment thinking about Poppy’s softness so that Bailey had to tap his desk to get his attention.
“Anyone in there?” she asked.
“Sorry, didn’t sleep well,” he said, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Let me state once more and for the record that I’m sorry.”
“I know, and I’m sorry for my reaction,” she said.
He blinked at her. “Wow, Cal’s had quite the effect on you.”
“I’ll say,” she agreed, patting her belly.
He chuckled and leaned back, lacing his hands behind his head as he stretched. “So I guess we’re family now.”
“How about we make it official?” she suggested, She started to lean forward, realized it was too uncomfortable, and leaned back instead.
“There’s a slight hiccup with that plan,” he said.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Your sister has a date.”
She blinked, digesting the news. “With who?”
He shrugged. “She won’t tell me, doesn’t want me to interfere or ‘hover jealously.’”
“What are you going to do about it?” Bailey demanded.
“What can I do about it?” he asked.
“ Something ,” she said hotly. “Geez, Sully, get in the game here.”
“Uh…” he stammered, confused by her impassioned tone.
She took a breath. “Sorry, apparently I fly off the handle now. Has Poppy been emotional?”
“No, except maybe a bit euphoric now that she’s able to eat again,” he said. “I have no idea what to do or what you mean by ‘do something’.”
“What have you done so far?” she asked. “Something fun.”
He picked up a pen, twirling it. “I got her pregnant. That was fun.”
“How would you like me to give you a tracheotomy with that pen?” she offered.
“I don’t know what you want from me here. We talk, we hang out, I’m trying hard to be there, to be supportive.”
“Are things still, you know, physical between you?”
“No, we’ve taken that off the table.”
“Put it back on.”
“What?”
“I merely mean that Poppy is freakishly responsive to physical touch. She’s a cuddler. If she’s not getting it from you, she’s going to seek it somewhere else. Rub her back, it has to be killing her, if she’s anything like me. She stands all day—rub her feet. Hold her hand. Hug her. Kiss her. She’ll melt.”
“I’m not sure if this is incredibly awkward or incredibly helpful,” Sully said. He had come to view Bailey as one of his guy friends, one with whom he shared a lot of similar interests. But his guy friends never talked to him this way.
“Maybe it’s both. And take her somewhere.”
“We go out to eat,” he said, his tone turning defensive.
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “The diner?”
“Maybe,” he admitted.
“The diner where she works, where she spends her entire day from three in the morning on?”
“I always pay,” he said.
She shook her head. “Poppy doesn’t care about stuff like that. She’s not into money or material possessions. She’s experiential. Have you not learned that by now?”
He blew out a breath. “I don’t know. It’s all so messed up.”
“If you’re looking for disagreement, you’re looking in the wrong place. But it’s a done deal. So if you want the desired outcome, you have to do the work. What is the problem here, really? What is holding you back?” she asked.
“Fear of failure and, I don’t know, I always thought there would be some kind of mythic sign or something,” he said.
“You want a sign? You got a girl pregnant, there’s your sign,” she said.
“I don’t know, Bailey. When you met Cal, didn’t you know he was the one?”
“No. I was attracted to him right away, I fell in love with him eventually, but if you’ll remember, I was prepared to walk away when he didn’t step up. There’s no such thing as a magic, friction-free relationship. There’s merely a whole lot of hard work and, if you’re lucky, a whole lot of reward.”
“I don’t know,” he muttered.
She picked up the box of tissues from his desk and bounced it off his head. “You’re hopeless.”
He grinned at her. “Good to have you back. Now go away. Some of us still work for a living, Mrs. Ridge.”
“For some of us, growing a human is harder work than you could ever imagine. Something to remember as you relate to the woman in your life.”
“You’ve gone from not speaking to me to giving me unsolicited advice in a shockingly short amount of time,” Sully said.
“We’re family now,” Bailey replied. “The insufferability is only beginning.”