Expecting...in Texas

Ryan Fortune did care, of course, she thought as she helped herself to a small canapé, but he was only a man, and men were inept when it came to showing their feelings for their children. And then, of course, he’d made the mistake of marrying that woman, Sophia. His second wife had gotten her hooks into him, and the children had become more Rosita’s than ever.

Rosita delicately wiped her mouth with a napkin. Even her husband Ruben could have shown his feelings more, although he was better than most. No, in her generation it was the women who felt, the women who cried and encouraged and guided. It had always been second nature to her.

Rosita only hoped that she’d infused some of her values into the current generation of Fortunes, so they would be freer to show their feelings, freer to love those who deserved loving…. Like this small baby whom God had directed into their home, Rosita mused as she looked toward the ornate bassinet that was butted up against the side of one of the banquet tables.

When Claudia and Matthew had discovered that the baby whom Devin and Vanessa had rescued wasn’t their own precious kidnapped Bryan, they had taken it upon themselves to care for the little mystery baby. Taylor, as they were calling him, had the hereditary crown-shaped birthmark, thus proving he was indeed a Fortune. The only trouble was that none of the Fortune men had claimed responsibility for fathering the little angel. Regardless, the family had come to love the boy in the short time he’d been with them.

The bassinet could be seen from anywhere in the room. Afraid of a repetition of the awful kidnapping at the christening, Matthew and Claudia had made certain that the baby remained well in sight during the whole reception. They didn’t want to lose him, and perhaps lose the only real connection they still had to their own lost son. Though the FBI and Sheriff Grayhawk were still working on finding the kidnappers and baby Bryan, all leads were cold. At least the media weren’t hounding the Fortunes; the story was being kept quiet out of fear of tabloid exploitation.

Still, Rosita knew the kidnapping was placing a serious strain on Matthew and Claudia’s marriage. They’d moved back into Ryan’s home, and Rosita saw them daily. She could cut the tension between them with a knife.

Poor lamb, Rosita thought looking down at the baby. Who is it you really belong to?

Filled with sympathy for the child, for his real mother, who could be desperately searching for him even now, and for Matthew and Claudia and their continuous anguish, Rosita made her way over to the bassinet.

She noted that Lily Cassidy, Ryan Fortune’s long-lost love, and Lily’s daughter, Maria, were already there. Lily and Ryan had been lovers once. Lily had recently reentered Ryan’s life and the difference in the man could be seen instantly. About time the man was happy again, Rosita thought. She noticed that the baby began to fret as she approached. Rosita saw Maria lift the baby and take him into her arms with a practiced ease. Usually rebellious and embittered, Maria seemed oddly self-confident as she held the child. The baby quieted instantly.

Rosita paused, studying the younger woman.

Seeing her, Lily smiled a greeting to Rosita. “You must be very proud.” Her eyes indicated Vanessa.

Rosita nodded. Lily was a fine lady, and genteel in the traditional sense of the word. Lily understood that Vanessa was like a daughter to her. Ryan would do well to make her his wife, Rosita mused. Lily would undoubtedly bring honor and style to the family.

Not like Sophia. She’d never been a Fortune—not truly.

“She does make a beautiful bride,” Rosita agreed with genuine pride. “And more than that, she is a beautiful person.” She looked at Maria and the baby. “Would you like me to take him for a little while? That way you and Ms. Lily can feel free to have a good time.”

Maria merely scowled in response.

“That’s very sweet of you, Rosita,” Lily responded, covering for her daughter’s rudeness. Lily rose from her chair. “I guess it doesn’t take all of us to guard one small baby.” She passed her hand lightly over the infant’s downy head. There was affection in her eyes when she looked at Taylor.

Rosita saw a strange expression pass over Maria’s face as Lily spoke. It looked suspiciously like fear. Was she worried about the baby, too? Everyone at the ranch had fallen in love with this little waif, who laughed and already seemed to have a zest for life. But it was out of character for Maria to care about anyone, even a small baby.

“Perhaps a little of both.” Rosita reached for the baby, but Maria stepped back, unwilling to relinquish her hold. Rosita looked at her quizzically.

“That’s all right, I don’t mind,” Maria said quickly. “I like holding him, and he seems to be happy right now. Why don’t you just go and enjoy yourselves?” It was more of a dismissal than a suggestion.

Lily pressed her lips together. “Maria, you really should get out and mingle a little. I was hoping that—”

Maria’s face clouded over. “Yes, Mother, I know exactly what you were hoping.” Her eyes strayed toward Matthew before she turned her back on her mother. Her attention became centered on the baby. “But I’m happy here, just holding the baby. Why can’t you just accept that?”

Rosita looked away, embarrassed for Lily and not wanting to cause her any further discomfort. Her own daughters would never speak to her this way, especially not in front of someone else. It seemed a shame that such a fine lady like Lily had to put up with such rude behavior.

“I had better see if they have enough wine.” Rosita nodded toward some of the trays scattered about on the surrounding tables. “It looks as if we are gathering too many empty glasses.”

“Oh, there you are.” Coming up behind Lily, Ryan slipped his arms around her, hugging her to him. “I haven’t had a chance to claim a dance with you in the last hour. Baxter Cordell is talking my ear off about some infernal idea. Something about a dude ranch, of all things. Come save me,” he urged the woman who shared his heart and his bed, and would someday soon, God willing, share his name as well.

Turning around in his arms so that she faced him, Lily pretended to sigh. “All right, if I must.” Some of the tension began to leave her brow as she let Ryan lead her away.

“I saw you hovering by Taylor.” Ryan curled her hand in his.

“Just being wistful,” Lily admitted. She looked back toward her daughter holding the baby. It made for a pretty picture. “I can’t wait until one of the children makes me a grandmother.”

Ryan laughed and shook his head. “You’re far too young looking, Lily, for anyone to think of you as a grandmother.”

Her laughter, light and airy, mingled with his. “That’s part of the joy of it.”

Rosita looked thoughtfully over at Maria. Perhaps you already are one.

It was 3:30 a.m. All the guests had gone. Darkness and quiet enveloped the Fortune family home. Bolting upright, Rosita cried out in surprised anguish before her eyes opened to admit the darkness within her bedroom.

Lying beside her, Ruben roused himself. Though he was not a stranger to these kinds of outbursts from his wife in the middle of the night, it took him a moment to orient himself and pull himself together.

Half asleep, still lying in bed, he managed to thread his arms around her waist. “Shh, Rosita, it was just a bad dream.”

“Yes,” she agreed breathlessly, her pulse still beating erratically. “No,” she declared suddenly, as things began to focus in her brain. “Not a bad dream, an omen. A sign.” Excited, breathless, she shifted, looking at her husband. His eyes were half closed. Rosita shook him by the shoulder. “It was a sign.”

Ruben opened his eyes reluctantly. “What are you talking about?”

It was all still jumbled in her head, but bits and pieces were becoming clearer. A feeling of urgency filled her, although she didn’t know why. “I dreamed that Lily was nursing a baby.”

“What baby?”

“I’m not sure.”

Ruben turned on his side. His arm under his pillow, he snuggled against it. He was anxious to get a little more sleep before dawn and hard work met him. “That’s nice.”

Upset by his reaction, Rosita leaned over her husband, talking directly into his ear. “Don’t you want to hear the rest of the dream?”

Ruben struggled against irritation and tried to maintain his hold on sleep. “Why would I want to hear what indigestion has made you dream of?”

He was always blaming her visions on indigestion. But he was a man and knew little about things like visions. “Not indigestion.” She shook his shoulder again. “Listen to me, old man.”

He sighed, knowing that he was waging a losing battle. But he was bound to try anyway.

“The middle of the night is the time for sleeping, not listening.” His eyes shut, he willed her into silence—as if that ever worked. “I will listen in the morning.” When he fervently hoped all this nonsense of hers would be forgotten. He supposed that made him a bit of a dreamer, too.

But Rosita was determined to talk about her dream now, while the pieces were all still fresh in her mind. “I was watching Maria with the baby at the wedding today.”

More awake than asleep now, Ruben sighed again. “You had nothing better to occupy yourself with?” he mumbled into his pillow.

She ignored the question. “The baby seemed to recognize Maria.”

Ruben turned toward her. This had to stop. He couldn’t sleep if she insisted on talking. “How could he recognize anyone? He is only, what? Three months old perhaps? And besides, he has been here for only a few weeks.”

Vindicated, Rosita held up a finger for emphasis. “That is my point.”

She had lost him. It was nothing new. Ruben had learned a long time ago not to try to keep up with the way his wife’s mind worked. It only led to frustration in the end.

“Your point is dull, my love. Now, please, for the love of our children, let me get some sleep before I fall off my horse tomorrow.”

He was turning away from her. In a moment, she knew he would be asleep. The man was infuriating. “But you haven’t heard my dream yet.”

Ruben sighed again, louder this time. It was a sigh of resignation, if not surrender. There was no talking her out of it.

“All right.” Turning, he faced her squarely, his eyes wide open—the way they probably would remain for the rest of what was left of the night, he thought mournfully. “Tell me your dream and then maybe we’ll both get some sleep.” Although he sincerely doubted it.

Victorious, Rosita proceeded slowly now, for effect and drama. “I dreamed that Lily was nursing a baby.” She paused significantly. “Suddenly, the baby transformed into a scorpion and stung her!”

“Definitely indigestion,” Ruben pronounced. Having done his duty, he turned away from her again. “All right, you have told me. Now let’s get some sleep.”

Disappointed, Rosita glared at him. What did she expect? He was a man and didn’t understand these things. “You are impossible.”

“No, only tired.”

The sentence came out in a soft sigh. Ruben was asleep before the last word was out of his mouth, leaving Rosita to lie beside him, upset and fuming.

And convinced that her vision contained more than an ounce of truth….

“Are you sure?” Cruz looked at his sister, surprised and maybe just a little more pleased than he wanted to let on, even to himself. Maggie had come knocking on his door this morning with the news just as he was about to head toward the stable.

It had stopped him in his tracks.

Maggie grinned at her older brother. So, she’d been right. There was something going on between Cruz and Vanessa’s friend. Watching him last night, she’d sensed that something was up, but she hadn’t been sure until just this moment.

“Of course I’m sure.” She fell into step with him as he went to get his horse.

“Do you know how long she’ll be staying?”

Cruz’s curiosity tickled her. He’d always been so very fickle before, going through women like a man leafing slowly through the pages of a magazine. This time, it looked as if he’d stopped to read the story that went along with the pictures.

About time, Maggie thought.

Cruz had spent the better part of the reception in Savannah Clark’s company. That had to mean something since he normally divided his time with no less than five women during the course of one of these parties.

But to say so, Maggie knew, would be to annoy him. She decided to save that little observation as ammunition for some future time. She never knew when she might need it.

“Indefinitely.” Maggie watched Cruz saddle his horse, his face impassive. She knew him better than that. He wouldn’t be asking questions if he wasn’t interested. He wasn’t one for idle gossip. “It seems the school where she was teaching had to let some of their staff go. She needed a job and Vanessa offered her one. She’d going to be the ranch’s new bookkeeper.”

So, she’d be working for the Fortunes. That put her on the same level as he was. Cruz wondered if Savannah thought of that as a step down. He knew from experience that the Fortune family and their hired help did not readily mix, no matter what magnanimous words might be said to the contrary or what invitations were extended. The bottom line was that the Fortunes were above them and would always continue that way.

Tightening the saddle cinch, he looked at his sister. “So she’ll be staying on.”

Maggie nodded. “Looks that way.” Maggie made no attempt to hide the fact that she was taken with his reaction. “Are you interested?”

Yes, he thought, he was interested. For all her shyness, Savannah had been a very satisfying lover and he wanted to lure her back to his bed. Just to assure himself that he’d over-glorified the night in his mind.

But he’d missed his chance to find out last night. After Dallas had cut in on them, other members of the Fortune family had followed and gone on to monopolize Savannah’s time. So he had distracted himself with the woman he’d been with.

Or tried to. But his heart hadn’t been in it and he’d gone back to his cabin alone, to fall into a restless sleep that had left him more tired than refreshed when he woke up this morning.

The tangle of dreams he’d had had faded the moment he’d woken up, but they had left him weary. And more restless.

“Are you interested?” Maggie repeated, peering at his face.

Cruz shrugged, absently looking over toward the house. “No more than usual,” he finally said.

But Maggie had her doubts about that.

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