Chapter Twenty
T ed was standing in the kitchen when Bayleigh got up from her nap.
He held out her cell phone. “Your doctor’s office called,” he said. His face was filled with questions.
She rubbed her eyes and reached for it. “Thanks.” Her voice was hoarse and gravelly.
He lifted it out of her reach. “They’ve booked your ultrasound.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“What’s the ultrasound for, Mom? Are you sick?”
His voice took her back to those days when he first regained consciousness to learn that his world was changed forever, when she had to break the news of his father’s death, when they weren’t certain what his recovery would look like.
“No.” She rubbed her face then reached out to pull him into her arms. “I’m fine, honey.”
He stepped back. “But you’re always so tired.”
When she’d broken her arm five years ago it had taken him two days to notice the cast but now, naturally, he was eagle-eyed about her health.
“I’m just working too hard.”
“Stop lying.” Ted’s face crumpled.
Sometimes it was hard to remember he was almost grown. Other times, like now, he seemed so young. The single worst fear for the child with only one parent is losing that parent.
“Oh, Ted,” she said, reaching for him again.
“Wait.” He closed his eyes for a moment. Then they flew open, and he looked at the screen more closely. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
She froze, her brain suddenly icy clear. Not such a child after all, then. “What?”
“Are. You. Pregnant. Mom?” Ted said, waving the device at her. “Because I don’t know why else you’d be scheduled for a prenatal ultrasound.”
Right. That’s what she got for leaving her phone lying around.
She grabbed it away from him and tucked it into her back pocket. “You’re not supposed to answer my phone.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “That’s your answer? Mom! You’re having a baby with Lucas?”
“No.”
He blinked. “But . . . it’s his, right?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to marry him?”
She gave a small laugh, then took a deep breath. “Honey. Lucas and I had a brief and very nice relationship. We both knew it wasn’t permanent. He was already gone when I realized I was pregnant.”
“You mean,” Ted said, his voice rising, “he doesn’t know?”
“That’s between me and him.”
“Which means he doesn’t. That’s not fair, Mom!”
“It’s too early, Ted.” She cleared her throat. “The baby... once I’m past the three-month mark...”
“Then what? You’ll decide whether or not to tell him?”
“I’m going to tell him, Ted. When the time is right.”
“The time is now!” Ted flapped his arms. “Mom, how would you feel if I got some girl pregnant and she didn’t tell me? You’d be furious. Two parents. Both have rights. I can’t believe I have to tell you this.”
Ah, the double-edged sword of raising smart, independent children. One day, they wield it against you.
“I told you I’d tell him, and I will. Once I’m certain that the pregnancy is viable. Don’t lecture me, Ted.” She blew out a breath. “I’m still adjusting to this myself, okay? But how and when I address it with Lucas is my business, not yours. Understand? This is private information and I need to know I can trust you with it.”
“He’s a good guy. Don’t you think he’ll want to be part of his kid’s life?”
“I don’t . . . know.”
“If you don’t tell him—” Ted warned.
“What?” A calm fury came over her. No one was going to tell her what to do with her life. Been there, done that, moved into her truth. And the truth was, she may have loosened the reins a bit too much with Ted, been a champion and a friend, perhaps even leaned on him, when he needed a parent. A strong mother. “Watch yourself, son. This is not a democracy. I love you. Full stop. Nothing will ever change that. And I will live my own life as I see fit. Once you’re an adult, I’ll afford you the same courtesy. But right now, on this issue, you don’t get a say. I told you I’ll tell Lucas and I will. When I’m ready. Got that?”
Then she grabbed her keys and shoved past him.
“Where are you going?” he yelped.
“Out. The dishes better be washed when I get back.”
“I always wanted a little brother or sister when I was growing up, you know,” he called after her. “Your timing really sucks, Mom.”
“Yeah, well, things happen. That’s life.”
She let the screen door slam behind her.
She drove into Grand with no clear idea of where she’d go but when she saw Lou’s Pub, she pulled in and parked. She sat, resting her head on the steering wheel. Should she go in? What if she saw someone she knew? She couldn’t tell anyone, not before she told Lucas. But she couldn’t stand being alone with this secret anymore.
The pub was quiet when she went inside. A group of women, headed by Sue Anne Nylund, looked up from their table in the corner. Sue Anne gave her a chilly smile and turned away.
It was time the queen bee of Grand got taken down a notch.
Bayleigh straightened her shoulders and walked up to them, taking pleasure at the woman’s surprise.
“Hi, Sue Anne, ladies. I’m Bayleigh Sutherland.”
Sue Anne recovered her composure and introduced her friends: a nurse, a high school teacher, a woman who ran a children’s clothing store and two “happily retired” elementary school teachers.
“Bayleigh is starting a... what would you call it? A place for disabled children to ride horses? Isn’t that wonderful?”
Sue Anne’s expression said it was anything but.
“Belle Vista Recovery Ranch is focusing initially on equine therapy,” Bayleigh said, “but we’re planning to offer other modalities, as well.”
“We?” Sue Anne’s eyebrows lifted. “I thought you were on your own.”
“Heavens.” Bayleigh laughed. “You’ve seen my place. I couldn’t possibly do this on my own. Sawyer Lafferty manages the stables. My son Ted mucks stalls after school. I have several physical therapists contracted to join us shortly, all with specialty training, of course. My head wrangler arrives next month, a registered nurse also experienced in equine therapy. We also offer other forms of animal-assisted therapy, and I’m hoping Leila Lafferty will help us develop an art therapy program eventually. Plus, I have volunteers.”
“But you don’t have a... partner?” Sue Anne persisted.
“If the business grows as I expect it will, I may take on a partner.” Bayleigh deliberately misunderstood. “For now, I prefer to have full control.”
She patted Sue Anne’s shoulder and left them to their prosecco.
Lou met her at the bar. “Well-done, lass,” he said, tipping his head at the ladies. “Not everyone can get the better of our Sue Anne.”
“She caught me in the wrong mood.” Bayleigh gave him a wry smile and ordered a soda and lime. “School night. I just needed to get out of the house.”
“You’re welcome anytime,” Lou said.
At the end of the bar sat a man with a book, nursing a beer. He looked to be about sixty and wore a clerical collar. He tipped his head in her direction.
“Have you met Father Patrick?” Lou asked as he set her drink down. “He makes a good antidote to Sue Anne Nylund.”
Before she could object, he’d waved the priest over and introduced them.
“I’m not Catholic,” Bayleigh said.
Father Patrick leaned forward, his eyes twinkling. “I’m not particularly Catholic myself these days. No apologies necessary.”
“Really?” She liked him instantly. “Isn’t that bad for job security?”
He laughed. “Priests aren’t exactly lining up to come to small western towns.”
“I’m a therapist,” she said. “A counselor. I suspect our jobs are not dissimilar.”
“I know who you are, and I agree. But who counsels the counselor, hm?”
“And who pardons the priest?”
“We understand each other, then.”
They sat in companionable silence for a bit, nursing their drinks. Lou was busy at the other end of the bar. The low sounds of conversation and background music were punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter from the ladies’ table and the clink of ice on glass. It was deeply soothing, exactly what she needed.
“Father,” she said suddenly. “Could I bounce some thoughts off you?”
“Of course,” he said. “Fire away.”
“It’s about a friend.”
He nodded. “How can I help?”
“My friend is... pregnant. And she’s not sure what to do.”
“Ah. I take it this is a surprise.”
“Definitely. She’s not married to the father, and she hasn’t told him yet.” She took a breath. “Before I go further, I should tell you that she’s... undecided. It’s complicated. I know what you’ll say—”
“I doubt that.”
“But the church—”
“May I tell you a quick story, Bayleigh?” His lined eyes were so kind. “I have a nephew, a wonderful lad, living his own life now. I didn’t see him grow up. I couldn’t.”
“Why’s that?”
Father Patrick blew out a breath and shook his head. “My sister was sixteen when she found herself in your... friend’s... situation. The child, my nephew, was not conceived in love. The opposite, in fact. I wanted to kill the man. Tried, actually. What you’re asking about.” He shook his head again. “I love my nephew. But my sister’s life was... I don’t know how she did it. She was damned either way, and none of it her fault.”
“I’m so sorry,” Bayleigh said.
“Does your friend want this child? Can she care for it?”
“I think so.”
“Are she and the father in love? Is it a good relationship?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? Whatever it was that created the spark that brought people together, love or lust, didn’t matter unless the more prosaic stuff of life worked. Were they compatible? Did their values align? Could they compromise when necessary? Did they laugh at the same things? Would they sacrifice for the other if it was required?
Did they at least live in the same town?
“I . . . I think so.”
“Why hasn’t she told the father?”
“I’m not sure. I think she’s afraid.”
“Will he be angry?”
Is that what she was worried about? No, she could imagine Lucas being shocked, concerned, but not angry.
“I think she’s worried he won’t want it.” Tears sprang to her eyes as she said it.
“Now, lass,” Father Patrick said, patting her shoulder. “You’re a kind soul.”
“She wants the baby, but she’s afraid he won’t. She doesn’t want to trap him. She’s afraid he’ll do the right thing out of obligation.”
The priest nodded thoughtfully. “Not a good start.”
“But if she doesn’t go through with it, the relationship is dead anyway. It couldn’t survive with something like that between them.”
“A difficult spot, indeed.”
She inhaled shakily. “I expected something different from you.”
“Oh?” He grinned cheekily. “Every sperm is precious and all that codswallop? No, not me. There are too many people wanting to control the lives of others, when they should be more concerned with managing themselves.”
“I’m surprised you still have a job.”
He winked. “I don’t share these views widely. I see my parishioners as individuals and I counsel them as such. No one can make the right choice for someone else. All we can do is support each other in making the right choices for ourselves. We can empower those who’ve never had a voice to rise into their own strength.”
Once again, her throat tightened. “Thank you, Father Patrick.”
He squeezed her arm and got up from his stool. “I’ll pray for your friend. She’s lucky to have you. Oh, and one final thing. Tell her to go easy on her young man. He’ll be afraid because he’s not in control. Love means letting someone else have at least some control over your happiness, your future—and there’s nothing so terrifying.”
*
The first time Lucas arrived in Grand, he’d been full of suspicion and resentment. The second time, he’d been laced with the exquisite frustration of knowing Bayleigh was sleeping alone only a few miles away, and he couldn’t see her. This time, his hands on the steering wheel were damp with nerves because he was going to see Bayleigh again. So much had happened over the past few weeks and he wanted to tell her about it all: Tanya, Heather Malone, his fear of losing everything... and how he couldn’t stop thinking about her. How he wanted her in his life. Whatever that meant.
Fuck their agreement. He missed her. If she didn’t want to see him, she’d have to tell him, flat out.
He’d sent her a quick text, then booked the same cabin as before, using the online booking system. She said they could meet again if he came back to town. If he wanted. Well, he was coming, and he wanted. Why not allow things to develop? See where it went? Nothing had to be decided now. If he came into town from time to time to visit his new family, why couldn’t he stay at Belle Vista and enjoy another installment of Bayleigh’s sweetness?
She wanted her independence; he could respect that. But there had to be a way to have both.
He wanted to know how things were going at the ranch. He’d been sorry to see his own team disband, but he couldn’t blame them. No one could afford to be out of work indefinitely and he was glad they’d all landed on their feet. But when Chandra messaged him to say that she was taking a position at Belle Vista, he couldn’t help but see it as a sign. Another thing linking him and Bayleigh Sutherland.
He wanted to go out riding with her again. Temporarily free of the responsibility of leading others, he’d indulged his craving for the Colorado backcountry a couple of times while he’d been back, just him and Stella. But instead of the serenity he usually found in nature and solitude, he’d found himself oddly restless. He’d made it four out of five days on the first trip, but the second trip, he’d ended after two nights. He had too much on his mind. So much had changed in the past few months. He wasn’t the same guy anymore.
Was that a good thing or a bad thing?
Or was it just a thing?
Lucas thumped his fist lightly on the Tacoma’s leather steering wheel. Bayleigh would understand what he was going through. It was probably some kind of normal life stage. She probably counseled people through existential crises like this all the time. Not that he wanted counseling services from her; that was a sure way to ruin a relationship.
Not that they had a relationship.
Did they?
This is what he really wanted to ask her: Did that week-long interlude mean anything to her? Did he mean anything to her?
Discovering that he hadn’t, in fact, been rejected by his birth mother had released something he didn’t know he’d been holding inside himself. Heather had wanted him, had wanted all of them, with all of her heart. Losing them had nearly killed her and he understood now why she’d had to cut herself off from that part of her past entirely, in order to live the rest of her life.
The knowledge loosened a band around his heart and with the loosening came an awareness of emptiness, something missing. What was missing was someone of his own to crave that way.
The face that came to mind was Bayleigh’s.
He ached for her.
Maybe he’d built her up into a fantasy in his mind. Maybe theirs had been nothing more than a fling, and all the warmth and passion and sweetness he remembered was what he wanted, rather than what she was.
He shifted on the seat. His hip was about at its limit, which was good because he was five minutes away from Belle Vista. He couldn’t wait to see her. Would she invite him into the hot tub again? He could sure use that, after the drive.
Would she offer him a glass of wine on her little patio? Would she bring him back to her bedroom, and let him stretch out next to her on her pretty bed, touch her silky skin and listen to her gasps of pleasure as he explored her amazing body?
The minutes crawled and then, suddenly, the sign.
Welcome to Belle Vista.
It felt like a homecoming, though he knew he had no right to feel that way.
He scanned the yard and the front corrals but saw no one but horses. The sun was nearly down and the yard light would soon flicker on, inviting moths to fluttering flight.
He parked in the usual space and turned off the vehicle.
Just arrived , he texted.
For a moment, he listened to the quiet, broken only by the tick , tick , tick of the cooling engine. Then, low padding footsteps of a horse in the corral nearest him, followed by a gentle nicker. Bayleigh could see the driveway from her office. Surely she’d be out momentarily.
But she didn’t reply. Lucas eased himself out of the truck, wincing as his leg worked itself straight. He’d have to stretch diligently tonight.
“Hey, Turtle.” He reached out to stroke the old gelding’s velvet nose. He wished he could have his own horse out here. He’d love the company and they had many excellent trails to explore.
Turtle nudged his hand hopefully.
“Sorry, old boy. I’ve got nothing for you today. Where’s your people?”
Still no sign of Bayleigh or Ted. Lucas gave the horse a final pat and then walked around the truck to pull out his bag. The lights were off in the barn, which made sense, as Sawyer would have finished work hours ago. But aside from the twinkle lights on the front porch, the main house was mostly dark, with no movement visible, not even the blue flicker of a television or computer monitor.
Was Bayleigh out?
He glanced at his watch. He’d told her when he expected to arrive and he was right on time.
Disappointment he had no right to feel stung him for a moment. He tamped it down. There was no reason to think she’d adjust her schedule to welcome him again. He was a repeat guest; he knew the drill.
He walked to the cabin, where he found the key under the mat. Inside was the same setup as before. Bedding, fresh flowers, coffee, and snacks. He looked around for something, anything, to indicate that he wasn’t just another stranger renting a room.
There, on the table by the window, a small white envelope.
He grabbed it and tore it open.
“Welcome to Belle Vista,” it read. It was the usual printed welcome sheet, plus his booking receipt.
At the very bottom, a small addition in her own elegant handwriting.
Welcome back, Lucas. Looking forward to seeing you again. Bayleigh.
That was it.
No explanation for not meeting him.
He set his bag in the corner and went out to walk some blood back into his bad leg. The still evening air was scented with lavender and alfalfa and the clean, earthy aroma of well-cared-for animals.
He leaned his forearm heavily into his crutch, angling first to one side, then the other, but his range of motion was shit right now. He limped toward the pool house. If it hadn’t been locked up for the night yet, he’d have a soak by himself.
As he approached, he met Ted.
“Hey,” he said, glad to see the young man’s familiar face.
But instead of the sunny smile, Ted gave him a guarded once-over.
“Lucas,” he said. “You’re back.”
“I am. Sure hoping I can take a quick soak before bed.”
“I was just locking up.”
“Oh.” He glanced at his watch. “I thought it was open for another half hour.”
“Yeah.” Ted glanced over his shoulder. “I didn’t know when you’d get here and I’m meeting some friends. I guess I could let you lock up when you’re done.”
Lucas observed the boy for a moment. “Ted, is everything okay? If you’re worried about me and your mother, would it help to know that I... care about her?”
Ted jammed his hands into his pockets and shoved past Lucas. “Whatever. You’re grown-ups.”
“Where is she, by the way?”
Ted turned back and gave Lucas a slow, careful look. “She’s in bed.”
“Already?”
As far as he knew, Bayleigh was up before dawn and worked late into the night.
Ted tossed the pool house keys to Lucas. “Here. Got everything else you need?”
Everything but Bayleigh, he wanted to say.
“I’m set. Thanks, Ted.”
The boy left without further conversation, leaving Lucas perplexed and vaguely worried.