Chapter 6
6
“ S upper?” AnnaLeigh blinked.
She hadn’t expected the cowboy to feed her, and the very idea of trying to eat in front of him made her sick to her stomach. Literally. “We haven’t discussed the…Vegas trip.”
She’d almost said wedding trip, but that scared her too.
“We can talk while we rustle up some food. You do eat occasionally, don’t you?”
The way he asked the question seemed as if he really wanted an answer. She’d lost weight, but did she look that bad?
She didn’t want to know the answer.
AnnaLeigh emitted a short laugh. “I do. And no, I haven’t eaten.” For reasons she’d keep to herself. Now, if only her stomach would remain calmer than her pounding heart, she might get through this evening without scaring him away.
She’d laid out her absolutes and was fool enough to believe he wouldn’t cross any of her boundaries. If he did, she’d be gone so fast he’d forget she was ever here.
“Come on.” He rose with an athletic-cowboy agility she couldn’t help noticing, but she did her best not to. “You can check out the kitchen while we rustle up some grub. Not that there’s much to see.”
He wasn’t wrong about that. Although the kitchen was spacious with plenty of cabinets, it was devoid of décor, and the only small appliances he owned were a coffee pot and a microwave. The refrigerator was stocked, however, and there were plenty of pots and pans.
“My ranch isn’t fancy. Are you sure you’re okay with that?” He clapped a black skillet on the gas burner and turned a knob, which produced a click, click and a flame.
“I like it.” She’d lived in lots of places. What was one more? “It’s homey.”
She actually found the tree stump and the saddle endearingly masculine, if a little strange. The Christmas tree reminded her so much of the rough and tumble Jacey, she’d loved it on sight.
“Your Christmas tree is cute. Did Jacey choose it?”
Holt closed a cabinet door and glanced beyond the bar to the small evergreen. His mouth curved. He had a nice mouth that smiled often and easily. That was a good sign. So was his clear affection for his daughter.
“It’s awful, but Jacey insisted. We were out riding, looking for a calf when she spotted the pitiful thing growing in a fence line.” He huffed a short laugh. “I offered to buy one from the lot in town, but she wanted this one. She said it was sad and needed love.” He shrugged. “I think she must have read a story at school about sad Christmas trees.”
“Jacey has a kind heart.”
“Yeah.” His expression was proud. “What could I do except get the ax and whack it down.”
He was a good dad, maybe indulgent, but what did she know? She’d never had one to compare. “It’s perfect.”
“If my daughter’s happy, I’m happy.”
Which fully explained why he’d decided to marry a stranger.
He went to the refrigerator, a modern stainless steel with ice in the door and a French freezer. “Do you like BLTs?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
He grinned, a long, slow, easy glide that dented his cheeks and squinted his dark eyes.
Yes, he smiled a lot.
AnnaLeigh fought off the thoughts that he was an attractive man. All she wanted from him was kindness and security. He’d been very clear that romance was not part of the deal.
Not that she wanted anything to do with romance.
“A woman after my own heart.” He opened an overhead cabinet and pointed to a stack of dishes. “Mind setting the”—he looked a little uncertain—“bar? We eat there.”
Bar or table, made her no difference. She knew how to make do, knew how to make herself at home in strange places. She’d been doing it all her life.
After setting out two mismatched plates, she ripped off a couple of paper towels for napkins and placed the flatware on top.
“What’s to drink?” she asked, opening cabinet doors until she discovered a small assortment of mugs and glasses. The plastic Hello Kitty cup next to the cowboy prayer mug did funny things to her composure. Must be the pregnancy hormones.
Holt turned to look at her over one shoulder. Bacon sizzled in the frying pan, and the smell was, surprisingly, delicious. So far, no nausea.
“Milk? I could make coffee or tea if you’d rather.”
“Milk’s perfect.” She got out the glasses and went to the fridge for the veggies and mayo.
By the time the sandwiches were ready and Holt had added a handful of potato chips to each plate, they’d broached the topic of Vegas.
Spending this time with him in the simple, mundane activity of creating a sandwich made her slightly less anxious. Not relaxed by any means, but not run-for-your-life terrified either.
“Will you have any problem taking a few days off work to make the trip?” Holt slung a leg over the bar stool next to AnnaLeigh. Beneath the bacon smell, a very light men’s aftershave drifted her way. Clean and outdoorsy, like him.
They’d bumped a few times in the kitchen, but now they were elbow to elbow, and she became uncomfortably aware of him. He exuded strength and manliness, with the muscled arms and torso that would make some women swoon.
So much for relaxing.
Fiddling with her sandwich, she put the pickles under the toast and tried to think of anything except the man beside her. “It’s the holiday season, and the shop is super busy.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” He frowned at his sandwich. “We’ll need a couple days’ drive time and at least three days at the rodeo for the meetings I’ve arranged.”
“I’ll talk to Rachel and see what we can work out. When do we leave?” Her stomach jumped at the question.
“Day after tomorrow. Bright and early.” He chomped into the BLT, a man-sized bite.
AnnaLeigh stared at her food and licked dry lips. A whirlwind trip for a whirlwind marriage. “Couldn’t we get married here?”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “You don’t want to go to Vegas? The National Finals Rodeo is the best of the best. I thought you’d want to go somewhere, a honeymoon trip of sorts.”
Except it wouldn’t be. She’d never have a real honeymoon, never have a real marriage. Vegas was the best offer she’d ever get.
A toast crumb fell, and AnnaLeigh looked down to swipe it away. The tiny piece of bread landed on her still-flat belly, as if pointing to the tiny human being she was desperate to protect.
“Okay,” she said. “Vegas, it is. I’ll talk to Rachel tomorrow.”
Business at Rachel’s Cards and Gifts was steady, but AnnaLeigh found a lull after the lunch rush.
She followed her boss into the office area. The room was tiny—a desk, chair and file cabinet, plus a small window for added light, but the space served the purpose. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
Rachel, who’d been on the phone ordering more merchandise, raised her gaze to AnnaLeigh’s. “Please don’t tell me you’re quitting.”
“I’m not. But I do need a few days off.”
Rachel sat back in the rolling desk chair and exhaled. “When?”
“Tomorrow until next Tuesday.”
A worry crease pulled at Rachel’s eyebrows. “The timing is really bad, AnnaLeigh. With Christmas less than two weeks away, the shop will be busier than ever this coming weekend.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
“Is something wrong? You’ve been sick a lot, and you’re pale as a ghost?—“
“I’m getting married,” AnnaLeigh blurted. There. The words were out. From the look on Rachel’s face, the revelation was a stunner.
Finally, after a few efforts to close her mouth, Rachel rose and came around the desk to envelope AnnaLeigh in a fragrant hug. “That’s wonderful news. Congratulations! I didn’t even realize you were dating anyone. Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Holt McNeil.”
Rachel cocked her head, puzzled. “Jacey’s dad?”
She’d have to talk fast to make this believable. “I know, isn’t it amazing? One day when Jacey left her lunch bag, I chased them down in the parking area.” That much was true. She put her arms out to each side. “And the rest is history.”
Rachel crossed her hands over her blue blouse. “Love at first sight.”
AnnaLeigh tried for a casual shrug and smile. “What can I say? Holt’s an irresistible guy. We figured there’s no reason to wait.”
And plenty of reasons not to.
Rachel held her at arm’s length. “Think no more about it. Take the days off and have a wonderful honeymoon. When things settle down and you have time, we’ll have a sweet little wedding shower right here in the shop.”
AnnaLeigh wanted to argue, but, if she did, Rachel might get suspicious. What bride would refuse a shower? As much as she hated the deception, AnnaLeigh nodded. “You’re such a great boss. Thank you.”
She kept the smile glued to her face and headed toward the front of the store.
The die was thoroughly cast. She’d let the cat out of the bag, and word would get around in a town this size.
She was marrying rancher Holt McNeil.
Time to get her game on and pretend to be a starry-eyed bride-to-be.
Holt put off telling Jacey the news until the last minute. She was already amped up about her first trip to Daddy’s big rodeo, as she called the NFR. He figured she’d sprout wings and fly when she heard that AnnaLeigh was the answer to her prayers.
He was almost right.
Holt was helping her pack the night before the trip. A backpack was already stuffed with her schoolwork from a very accommodating teacher. Now, as they filled her small suitcase, the same one he’d numbly packed the day he’d brought her home from Pamela’s funeral, Holt tried to find the right words to give her this very special Christmas surprise.
He folded a long-sleeve T-shirt with a sparkly blue cat on the front. All her clothes still seemed so little in his grown-up hands. “Got something to talk to you about.”
Jacey tossed an armload of toys on top of the jeans and T-shirts and went back to digging in her closet. “I know, Daddy. I have to do my homework every day and practice my flash cards. Miss Jameson told me already.”
“That’s not what I want to talk about.”
The pony-tailed whirlwind brought three stuffed animals to the suitcase. “What?”
Abandoning any hope of organizing the mishmash of toys and clothes, Holt sat on the side of the bed and patted the spot next to him. She obediently hopped up, bringing along Rosey, her “very favoritist in the whole world” unicorn.
“Let’s talk about Christmas.” Holt cleared his throat. “Remind me again of what you want most of all.” He thought he’d better check, in case she’d changed her mind in the last twenty-four hours. Wouldn’t that be a kicker if she had?
A man could always hope.
“Silly daddy, you know. A mommy. I asked Jesus to tell Santa to bring me a mommy. He will, ‘cause He can do anything like you said.” She hugged the unicorn to her chest. “I can’t wait!”
“You do realize that I have to find a wife if you’re going to get a mommy. Right?”
“Well, yes, Dad. That’s how it works. You can’t have a mommy without a daddy having a wife.”
Holt figured now was not the time to address that particular bit of misinformation.
“And you do realize that when a man looks for a wife, it might take some time. A wife and mom doesn’t automatically appear under the tree on Christmas morning. There is work to be done, a connection to be made between the daddy and the mommy.”
“Oh.” Jacey pooched out her lips, forehead caught in thought. “I never did think of that.”
“So, what if Christmas came a little bit early? What if Jesus sent your present now instead of on Christmas morning, so that the mom and dad could get married in time for Christmas? Would you like that?”
Jacey’s green eyes widened to the size of flying saucers. “Daddy! Tell me. Tell me right now. Am I getting a mommy today?”
He laughed. “Not today, but soon.”
“Is she pretty? Does she smell good?” Jacey threw herself backwards on the bed and bicycled her legs. “Can she fix hair? Will she like me?”
The last part was asked anxiously enough that Holt’s heart clutched.
“She already does. You know her. She’s going to Las Vegas with us tomorrow.”
“Who is it? Ellie’s mama?”
“No, not Ellie’s mom. AnnaLeigh“—Oh, man, he’d forgotten her last name—“from your Cards by Kids class.”
Her pumping legs stopped in mid-cycle and flopped onto the comforter. Mouth hanging open and eyes as sparkly as the stars on a winter night, Jacey gaped at him in total silence.
“So,” he asked hesitantly. “What do you think? Do you like her?”
A shriek of pure joy ripped the air. His baby girl flung herself at him with the wild exuberance only a six-year-old can generate. “I love Miss AnnaLeigh. Oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy.” She pounded her fists against his shoulder. “This is the best Christmas present ever! You and me and Miss AnnaLeigh forever and ever and ever, a family together.”
Yeah. Forever and ever and ever. He tried not to think about that too much.
“You happy?”
“I’m the happiest kid in the world,” she said with enough drama to start a BBC television series. Tilting back to look him, her palms bracketed his cheeks. “You were right, Daddy, Jesus can do anything !”
Something inside Holt eased. He’d made the right decision. This was good. Jacey’s answered prayer and the affirmation of her faith were his reward for doing this crazy thing. Her joy made the discomfort worthwhile.
The way everything had easily fallen into place, God must have orchestrated the whole thing. He needed to believe that.
Holt hugged his daughter close and hoped he was right.
AnnaLeigh’s first road trip to Vegas began at the evil hour of four a.m. The morning sickness kicked in a little after six.
By the fourth time she had been forced by nature to ask Holt to stop the pickup truck, he’d looked at her with more than a little worry. To assuage his concerns, she assured him the problem was only car sickness. She’d suffered from the malady for years.
She could be sick from riding in his enormous King Ranch Ford. And she had suffered car sickness once a long time ago. Unless that time had been a stomach virus. She’d never been quite sure.
For at least the dozenth time, Jacey popped her seat belt and leaned through the console space, stuffed animal extended. “Miss AnnaLeigh, are you better yet? Want to hold Rosey? She makes me feel better when I’m pukey.”
Holt shot AnnaLeigh a sympathetic look. At the moment, she lay against the passenger door, her face touching the cool window glass. She’d give a hundred dollars to roll down the window and let the cold air blow in her face, but she didn’t mention that to Holt. He’d let her. Then he and Jacey would be cold.
“Jacey, sit back and buckle up,” Holt said. “I’m tired of telling you.”
“But, Daddy, I’m too excited. I’ve never been to a wedding before, and I’m getting a mommy, and you’re getting a wife, and it’s going to be the funnest thing ever!”
“Jacey. Seat belt.” Holt’s voice held a warning.
With a groan, the six-year-old flopped backwards, leaving behind the unicorn. AnnaLeigh listened for the snap of seat belt.
“She doesn’t share Rosey easily.” Holt dipped his chin toward the toy.
AnnaLeigh offered a wan smile and pulled the stuffed animal onto her lap. The less she moved the better.
“Thank you, Jacey,” she whispered.
“There’s a town up ahead a few miles off the interstate. We’ll stop for a while and let your stomach settle.”
“Don’t stop on my account. This will pass.” He might change his mind about her if she was too much trouble. People had before.
Regardless of her protest, he took the next exit and drove a winding road across a bridge into a small town. Pulling into curb parking, he pointed at the business in front of them.
A pharmacy.
“No, Holt, really, I’m okay.” She sat up straight to prove the point.
He gave her a quiet look. “Sit tight.”
He let Jacey out of the backseat, and the duo went inside the building. The truck windows wouldn’t roll down without the key, so she opened her door and let the cold air wash over her.
In a short time, Holt and Jacey came out of the pharmacy toting a large white paper bag. They walked around to her side of the truck.
“We got you some medicine, Miss AnnaLeigh. It’ll make you feel all better. That’s what the doctor said.”
Holt placed a wide hand on his daughter’s head. “Pharmacist.”
He handed AnnaLeigh the bag. “Wasn’t sure what would be best, so you can pick and choose. There’s some Gatorade in there too. Sip on that. You need fluids.”
She took the bag and placed it on the floor in front of her. “This is very thoughtful.”
He leaned in and touched her hair, eyes sincere. “You’re my fiancée. I’m taking care of you.”
The gesture was pretense for Jacey’s sake, she knew, but oh, it felt good. She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Thank you.”
“The pharmacist says there’s a good diner down the street. Jacey and I are going to grab a bite of breakfast. If you think you’re up to it?—“
“I’m not,” she hurried to say. The very thought of food sent her stomach into spasms. “Go ahead. I’ll take some medicine and rest.”
He got that worried look again. “Sure you’ll be okay.”
“Got my cell phone if I need you.” If she needed him. What would that feel like, having a man to care enough to be there if she needed him?
After they left, she rummaged in the bag, hoping he’d purchased something safe enough for a pregnant woman to take. An assortment of bottles filled the bag. Seemed he’d bought every nausea medication in the store.
There was Dramamine. She didn’t know if that was safe. A bottle of Emetrol. She didn’t even know what that was. Finally, she spotted a bottle of liquid antacid. Though not confident it would help the nausea, she was convinced it wouldn’t hurt her little one.
Finding a plastic spoon in the bottom of the sack, another courtesy she appreciated, AnnaLeigh cautiously sipped a dose and waited.
So far, so good.
Around her, the little town moved at a slow pace. Cars drifted past, slowing for the four-way stop at the corner. Two women walked by holding the hands of a small child between then. People went inside the pharmacy and came out carrying white bags of varying sizes. Car doors slammed. Engines cranked up. Voice drifted down the streets.
The peaceful scenes calmed the craziness going on in her head and belly.
She opened the Gatorade and took a sip. Knowing she needed the fluids, she tried a bigger sip. And then another.
The liquid hit bottom…and her stomach revolted.
With a sideways lurch, she held the open door with one hand and the back of the seat with the other as she leaned her head out.
Humiliation flooded her. To be sick right here on a main street, even in a town she’d likely never visit again, was too much.
Tears slid from her eyes. Sweat bathed her forehead. Though her stomach quickly emptied, she heaved again and again.
In her line of vision, however blurry, she saw cowboy boots. A rough hand gently brushed her hair away from her face and held it back. Holt didn’t say a word, but his presence both soothed and dismayed her. The tears kept coming, as if she had no control, because she didn’t.
When the sickness eased, Holt handed her a bottle of water. “Rinse and spit.”
Could this get any grosser? Any more embarrassing?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Hush.”
Was that a caring hush or an angry one?
Two strong hands guided her back against the seat. AnnaLeigh let her head fall against the headrest, exhausted, shaking, sweaty and disgusting. Holt pressed a wad of wet wipes into her hand.
The man was kind, endearing even, and genuinely concerned.
She tried to hide her face with the wet wipe, ashamed of the tears and the sickness, but most of all, she was ashamed of her awful deception. If today was any indicator, Holt McNeil deserved better.
He shifted, his boots scraping pavement. “Maybe we should head back to Refuge. Put the marriage off until you’re feeling better.”
“No.” She sat up, let the wet wipes tumble to her lap. Any makeup that had covered her dark circles was gone now. She must look like Dracula’s bride.
Certain she’d broken several of Holt’s rules already, especially the one about not making demands on his time or his money, she wasn’t giving him any more reasons to back out of this deal.
“Absolutely not.” She sucked in a long breath. “I’m better now. I think that was the end of it. Once the medicine kicks in…”
“You threw it all up.”
“Did you have to mention that?” She gave him a wan smile. “I have some crackers in my tote. Once I get something on my stomach, I should be good to go.”
Please, please, please, let the sickness be over for today.
Holt shut the door with a careful click and went around to the driver’s side, letting Jacey in first.
Turning in his seat to face her, he said, “You sure you’re up for this?”
“Positive.” She reached in the tote at her feet and took out the crackers, holding them aloft. “Crackers and Gatorade, a winning combination.”
He sat there, watching her for another long moment, worrying his bottom lip, one forearm draped over the steering wheel. Clearly, he thought he’d picked a doozy, a sickly doozy.
She nibbled the cracker, swallowed, then took another nibble.
Jacey’s head appeared between the seats. She reached through and patted AnnaLeigh’s arm. “I prayed for you, Miss AnnaLeigh. You’ll be all better now.”
The sweetness of those words touched a tender place inside AnnaLeigh that she didn’t even know existed. If God bothered to listen to anyone, He’d surely hear the prayers of a child as caring as this one.
A few miles later, the nausea disappeared, and she wondered if maybe He had.