The Texan's Baby

Chris pulled into the hospital parking lot. “Sorry. It wasn’t crude.” He slid the car into a vacant space and looked over at her. “It was awesome.”

And just like that the air in the car seemed to get heavier. Full of promise and caution all at the same time.

His gaze held hers for far too long as the engine idled. In the space of those moments, Lizzie recalled so many things about that night. The way he smiled, the warmth in his eyes, replaced by a heat so scorching she thought she might be singed by it as his hands touched her body. The sound of his voice in the dark, the low, rich chuckle in the shadows. How he’d opened his arms and let her curl up against him rather than looking for an escape route.

Chris Miller was no more the bad guy here than she was. And because of it she was compelled to agree with him. “You’re right,” she answered shyly. “It was awesome.”

Silence filled the car once more.

“Look,” she said quietly. “I’m not ready to come right out and tell everyone the news, especially now. I want to wait for the dust to settle. But I don’t want to treat you like some dirty little secret, either. I went to find you today to start us talking. To give us a chance to make some decisions before having to deal with my family. The Barons aren’t exactly...subtle.”

She undid her seat belt and turned in the seat until she was facing him completely. “Chris, when I go in there they’re going to ask questions anyway, about what I was doing over three hours away from Dallas on a workday. If I say I was taking care of some personal business they won’t let it drop. I was willing to face that before, but now I’m thinking...if we went in there together, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for them to come to their own conclusions. It could buy us some time to figure this all out. Plus...”

Her voice faltered and she looked down at her hands. Her nails were precisely painted and beautifully manicured. Where had the outdoor-loving, ranch-riding girl gone? She was lost behind a power suit and a pair of heels.

“Plus what, Lizzie?”

She looked up again. “Plus it might be nice to not have to walk in there alone. I know Dad’s going to be okay, but I hate hospitals. Have ever since I was a little girl.”

Ever since her mother had been there when Jet was born. When Delia had come home, she hadn’t been the same mom who’d gone in to have her fourth baby. Lizzie had never forgotten that, and remembering it now made her grossly uncomfortable. She was about to become a mother, too. She was only a few weeks along and she couldn’t imagine ever abandoning her child the way her mother had abandoned them.

“Are you asking me to be your wingman?” He turned off the car and rested his hand on the steering wheel.

She turned her attention back to him, gratefully. “Would you mind? Add it to the list of crazy stuff to happen to you today.”

She was rewarded with another reluctant smile.

“Seriously, Chris. Then tomorrow we can worry about getting you back home.”

He blew out a breath. “This is turning out to be the strangest day,” he admitted, running a hand over his hair. “I’m still trying to come to grips with the fact that you’re...you’re having my baby.”

“I know. This wasn’t at all how I planned it would go.”

“Everything is going to change and you want me to waltz into the hospital as if we’re old pals.”

“I’m sorry....”

“Don’t be sorry. You’re probably right about there being fewer questions now rather than later when everyone isn’t preoccupied.”

“I’m sure everyone will be more focused on my dad than us anyway.”

“Then let’s go. Your family is probably wondering where you are.”

Lizzie called Julieta’s cell as they walked across the parking lot and into the building. They stopped at information and got the details about Brock and then proceeded to the surgical floor, where the rest of the Barons were congregated. Lizzie hesitated for a moment, staring through the doors at the collection of people—Julieta and her son, Alex, Lizzie’s younger sisters, Savannah and Carly, and then the boys—Jet and Jacob and Daniel. She pressed a hand to her stomach, suddenly afraid. She’d always tried to be the responsible one. How easy it would be for them to throw her mistake in her face once they found out how reckless she’d been.

Chris reached down and took her hand in his. It was warm and a bit rough and very, very comforting.

“You okay?”

She’d lived through their mother leaving. She’d lived through her stepmother dying and all the grief that had followed—for all of them. “I’ll be fine,” she replied. “Let’s go.”

But as they went through the door, she didn’t let go of his hand.

Savannah saw her first. “Lizzie! You’re finally here!” She came forward quickly, sparing Chris a curious glance before enveloping Lizzie in a hug.

“How is he?” Lizzie asked, stepping back. Savannah must have come right from the ranch store. She was still wearing her Peach Pit work shirt and jeans. “Any word?”

Julieta came forward, her normally perfect hairstyle slightly frayed around the edges, her eyes tired, and yet still incredibly beautiful. “He’s just out of surgery,” she said softly. “Still in recovery, so it’ll be a while before we can see him.”

“And everything went well?” Lizzie’s insides clenched at the thought of her father, her dynamic, energetic, blustery father lying motionless on a surgical table.

“As far as we know.” Julieta saw Chris standing just behind Lizzie and smiled at him. “Hello, I’m Julieta, Brock’s wife.” There was no mistaking the Spanish lilt to her voice.

Chris stepped forward and held out his hand. “Chris Miller, ma’am.”

“Chris was with me when you called,” Lizzie explained, her cheeks heating. “He drove me to the hospital.”

“How nice of you,” Julieta remarked, while Lizzie was aware of the rest of the family looking on.

“Long drive for someone who’s worried about their family,” he explained simply. “I was glad to do it.”

“Miller? Chris Miller, is that you?”

Lizzie saw Jet stepping forward, his face registering surprise. Of course they would know each other. Rodeo was really a small world when all was said and done.

“Jet.” Chris smiled again and held out his hand. “Good to see you. Sorry about your dad.”

The men clasped hands firmly. “You and Lizzie?” Jet looked between the two of them. “Since when?”

Lizzie stepped in, not trusting Chris to answer. “Since about eight weeks ago.” She could feel Chris’s gaze on her face and she refused to look at him.

“Eight weeks?” Jet’s lips dropped open. “Well, aren’t you the one for keeping secrets, Miss I’ll-Never-Date-A-Cowboy.” He winked at her.

Her brother was far too astute and far too charming for his own good. “I have a family who tends to make everything their business,” she said wryly. “Figured I’d better keep it under the Baron radar or else you’d tell him stories and scare him away. Besides, you’re the last person qualified to give me a dating lecture.” She raised an eyebrow at him. Jet never had any problem getting girls. He attracted them like bees to honey with his good looks and easy charm. He was a bit like their father that way. “Chris came for moral support,” she added.

She hoped God wasn’t about to strike her down with a bolt of lightning, the way the lies were tripping off her tongue with such ease. And she totally ignored what Jet said about not dating cowboys. She wasn’t exactly opposed to them, but if she didn’t say she was, her family would be trying to set her up left and right.

Chris didn’t say anything, to her great relief. But he did come closer and put his arm around her, resting his hand on her waist. The touch seared through her jacket to her skin.

For the next several minutes she caught up with Carly, who had also driven up from Houston, and her stepbrothers, Jacob and Daniel, who sat away from the rest of the family and chatted quietly, their elbows on their knees. Jacob and Daniel resembled each other heavily, from their dark hair and eyes to their body language. Chris knew Jacob from the circuit as well, and she was relieved because it eased the tension that always seemed to simmer just below the surface of the family. Julieta’s son, Alex, had fallen asleep curled up in a chair, but when he woke up he was out of sorts. The doctor had just come to speak to them though, and the sound of his whining was disconcerting.

“Hey, Alex, are you hungry?” Chris stepped forward and squatted down in front of the boy. “I haven’t had any dinner. How’s about you and me go to the cafeteria and see what they’ve got to eat?”

Alex’s brown eyes looked innocently into Chris’s. “I can’ts go with you ’cause you’re a stranger.”

Lizzie’s heart warmed as Chris smiled and looked to Julieta for backup.

Julieta excused herself for a moment and came to Alex’s side. “This is Chris, Alex. He came with Lizzie, and he’s okay. If you want to go to the cafeteria, you can. Maybe you can grab Mama something to eat, too, okay?”

“Can I have money?” he asked. “So I can pay all by myself?”

Lizzie tried not to smirk. The kid was learning early.

“Of course.” Julieta took a few bills out of her purse and gave them to Chris. “Chris will look after them for you, okay? And if you aren’t a good boy, he won’t let you pay for the food.” She gave him a stern look.

“Yes, Mama.”

“Ready?” Chris asked.

Alex nodded and Chris stood. Lizzie watched them head for the unit doors and her heart gave a strange thump against her ribs as Alex reached up and trustingly put his small hand in Chris’s.

The family turned their attention back to the doctor, who was explaining the procedure to put a rod in Brock’s leg, the plan for the next few days and the concerns they had for his recovery. Lizzie was disheartened to hear that recuperation could take from four to six months, especially for a man of Brock’s age. He was in general good health, which was in his favor, but with the added concussion, though minor, what he needed most right now was time and rest and once he was ready they’d start on rehab.

After he left, Julieta sat down, her face drawn, and Lizzie looked at Jet.

“Well, little brother, if you were ever going to reconsider going into the family business...”

Jet scowled. “I’m in the family business. Rodeo. On my own ranch, thanks.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She kept her voice low, not wanting the whole family to overhear her putting the screws to her brother. “Dad’s not going to be able to go into work for a while. You know he wants you as part of the business.”

“And you’re already a vice president. You’re the one to take the reins now, sis.”

She scoffed. “Right. Like the board is going to stand for that.”

“It will if Dad says so.”

“And will he? Because he’d rather it were you. I swear, if he puts Mark Baker in the driver’s seat I’ll resign. That man is impossible.”

“You won’t resign. You love that company as much as Dad does.”

She sighed. He was right. So what was she going to do? Run an entire energy company in between bouts of morning sickness and prenatal appointments?

She squared her shoulders. Well, why not? If she didn’t, she’d just prove every chauvinistic thing Mark Baker ever said absolutely true.

“You’re sure you won’t come aboard?”

Jet smiled his charming smile. “I’m sure you’ll do a great job, Liz. And I’ll tell Dad that, too, if it helps.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot,” she answered halfheartedly.

Jet disappeared after that, and she caught sight of him texting in a corner of the waiting room. She took a seat and slid off her heels, which were starting to hurt her feet. She leaned back and closed her eyes as exhaustion began to creep in. Maybe they’d soon be allowed to see Brock and then she could go home to her comfy apartment and bed....

“Lizzie?”

It was Jacob this time, looking incredibly earnest. She knew right away why he’d come to sit with her. While Jet couldn’t be convinced to take on a bigger role at Baron Energies, Jacob wanted one and Brock kept holding out.

“Hey,” she said tiredly.

“Looks like Dad’s going to be out of commission for a while. Do you think that puts you in charge?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I’d be happy to step up, take on a bigger part at the company if that would help you out, ease some of the pressure.”

Lizzie considered her words. Jacob was a good man and they tended to think a lot alike. She didn’t understand why Brock kept him in the wings at Baron. She also knew that his offer came from a genuine willingness to help, and not really from trying to advance his personal position.

“I’ll let you know. I appreciate the offer, Jacob, but I’m going to have to run everything by Dad, you know that. Even if he does have to hand day-to-day control over to someone...me...I can’t sanction changes he wouldn’t make. You understand that, right?”

“Shit would hit the fan,” Jacob acknowledged with a smile. “I’m going to be on the road a lot this summer. The one thing I do that he seems to approve of is rodeo.” He frowned. “But will you promise that if you need anything, you’ll ask?”

“I will, but Jacob, it’s not even a done deal.”

“Sure it is. We all know who he’d like to have running the company....” Jacob looked over at Jet in the corner. “But he relies on you and you’re family. That trumps everything.”

“So are you,” she pointed out. Sure, she remembered the time before Peggy and the boys had come on the scene, but they had been a part of their lives for so long there was no question about their place in the family—at least for her.

“In a way I’m glad I’m not you.” He grinned suddenly. “He’s going to hate being at home and away from the office. I bet he calls you a dozen times a day.”

The unit doors opened again and a grinning Alex burst through, carrying a paper bag nearly as big as he was, Chris following closely behind with a cardboard tray of cups in one hand and a sack in the other.

The two ten-dollar bills Julieta had given Alex wouldn’t have come close to paying for the sheer volume of food they brought back, and she looked at Chris with something that felt like affection. Damn it, she was starting to like him on top of everything else.

That probably wouldn’t be a good idea, would it? Especially if the goal was to keep things logical and businesslike. He stopped and handed her a hot cup. “I thought you could use an herbal tea,” he said quietly, so close to her ear that shivers snuck deliciously down her spine. “Sadly, the other sack is full of doughnuts and cinnamon buns. You may have to make a sacrifice.”

She took the cup and wrapped her hands around its warmth. “It was nice, what you did,” she said, looking up and meeting his gaze. “It’s a long day for Alex.”

“He’s a great kid,” Chris replied. “A lot of energy, but great.” His smile was a little crooked. Lizzie found it endearing.

“I don’t know how long we’re going to be here.” Lizzie took a restorative sip. “But you’re welcome to stay at my place for tonight. My couch is pretty comfortable.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Oh please. You totally dropped everything for me today and under what might have been really tense circumstances. I appreciate it, Chris. I think it’s a good sign, really, for how we’ll be able to deal with each other in the months ahead.”

Right. Because they weren’t actually dating. It was all an act for tonight. And the details to be worked out were more like a business negotiation than a relationship.

A nurse approached the group. “If you’re waiting for Brock Baron, you can see him now. Just for a few minutes. Follow me.”

Chris took her cup from her fingers. “Go,” he ordered, nudging her forward. “I’ll wait for you here.”

She followed the nurse along with the rest of the family, suddenly nervous. She wasn’t ready. Not ready to sit at the head of the boardroom table, and definitely not ready for motherhood—and she was, in all reality, being thrust into both roles at the same time.

Chapter Four

Chris rolled over and lifted an arm over his head, staring up at the ceiling of Lizzie’s condo. It was coolly modern, decorated in a lot of black, white and chrome. Beautiful, he supposed, but a little sterile and missing out on the coziness he’d been expecting. It was decorated much like an executive suite rather than a home. The sofa had been comfortable enough though his feet dangled over the end, and she’d given him a soft comforter and nice pillow. And at first he’d slept okay.

But then he’d opened his eyes while it was still dark outside and he hadn’t been able to get back to sleep.

Yesterday had been stupidly surreal and when he put all the pieces of what had happened together, it was hard to believe. He’d known Jet and Jacob for a while, and everyone was familiar with the Baron business, but he’d never crossed paths with Lizzie until that night in the bar.

She should seem more of a stranger to him, but there was a familiarity that was surprising. He sighed deeply. A logical man would be wondering about a paternity test. A cautious guy wouldn’t take everything she said at face value. It wasn’t like she’d been all that transparent at their first meeting....

And yet he did believe her. He couldn’t explain why, especially when he tended to be a bit cynical at the best of times. Somehow it felt as though he’d known her longer. There was a comfort level that was unique. Under the circumstances, a guy would shy away from family drama like the Barons had gone through yesterday.

Instead he’d inserted himself right in the middle. And he’d enjoyed seeing Jet and Jacob, liked taking the innocent and impish Alex to the cafeteria.

He had yet to meet Brock, but the truth was he liked her family. It was big and complicated and caring—the sort of noisy, loving family he’d never had but always wanted, growing up as an only child.

But there was still the matter of Lizzie, and the fact that she wasn’t interested in him personally—she was only interested in how they were going to handle the logistics of parenthood. It was the strangest start to a relationship he’d ever had. Only six months ago Erica had bailed on him and he’d seen her true colors. She’d wanted what he could provide more than she wanted him. She’d wanted the paycheck, the house and the white-picket fence. And when he’d turned his back on his job to go rodeoing, she’d left, saying he wasn’t the man she thought he was.

There was no danger of Lizzie wanting him for his stability and security. She had Baron money backing her up. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, either. The truth was she was having his kid and she didn’t need him in any way. What would keep her from shutting him out of his child’s life if things went badly?

He was still lost in his thoughts when he heard footsteps shuffling on the upper level of the condo, followed by the most pitiful sound of retching he’d ever heard.

Morning sickness. The perfect reminder that she was far more affected by this pregnancy than he was—at least for the moment.

It was rude to listen but he didn’t see how it could be avoided. After a very long few minutes, the toilet flushed and he heard water running. He’d better get up and get moving.

He was dressed and in the process of folding up the comforter she’d given him when she came downstairs, freshly showered and dressed in neat trousers, low heels and a blousy pink top with asymmetric ruffles across the front. She looked quite pretty, he realized, except her eyes looked tired and her face still held a grayish-green pallor.

“Good morning.” He felt completely out of his depth.

She tried to smile back, but it didn’t quite make it. “I’d offer you coffee, but I don’t have any in the house. I can’t stand the smell of the stuff these days.”

“That’s okay.” He finished folding the blanket and put it on the end of the sofa. Smells, too? Clearly he wasn’t familiar with the ins and outs of pregnancy.

“Do you want some breakfast? I’m fairly well stocked. There’s cereal or eggs or oatmeal. Bread for toast.”

“What are you having?”

“Some buttered toast.”

“That works for me. What can I do?”

She shrugged. “Nothing, really.”

He went into the kitchen anyway and took the loaf of bread from her hands. He slid two pieces into the toaster. “Where’s your butter and a knife?”

Wordlessly she got out two plates, a knife and two glasses. “Apple juice okay? I can’t seem to handle the acid in the orange in the morning.”

“Apple’s fine,” he answered, marveling at the peculiarities of pregnancy once more. He was so over his head and unsure of how to proceed. Never mind he still had to get back to his place so he could head to his mom and dad’s. He hadn’t wanted to give them much information last night when he’d called to say he wouldn’t be arriving for a few days. Some news was better delivered in person—and after he and Lizzie had made a plan of some sort.

The toast popped and he buttered it, but as he was putting it on a plate Lizzie disappeared again, this time into the downstairs half bath. The slammed door didn’t do much to muffle the sounds coming from within.

He ate the two pieces of toast that were prepared, not really noticing the taste. It was only a few minutes when Lizzie came back out, her smile a little easier now.

“I should be good now,” she said hopefully. “I find I’m only really sick first thing in the morning. I guess I didn’t get it all out the first time.” She blushed a little and Chris thought she looked adorable. “Is there any more toast?”

“How can you think about eating?” He stared at her.

She laughed a bit. “Actually, it’s normally better if I can eat a little first. The empty stomach is the worst for the nausea.”

“Any other things I should be aware of?” he asked, plopping two more slices of bread into the slots.

Lizzie handed him a glass of juice. “Well, I get sleepy and tend to nap and not always at the best time. I’ve also had to start wearing less fitted clothing, because I’m not showing yet but my waist seems to be getting bigger all of a sudden.”

Changes. So many of them.

“How’d things go with your dad last night?” He handed her the hot toast. Lizzie had barely spoken to him on the drive home, and then when they’d arrived she’d made sure he had bedding before she went up to her room. The dark circles were still slightly visible under her eyes. Without asking, he’d understood that seeing her dad in the hospital bed and the long day had taken a toll.

Lizzie perched on a bar stool and nibbled. “It was rough. He looked so gray, and he was awake but very groggy from the anesthetic and pain meds. He’s usually up and giving orders, you know?”

“So what happens now?”

“I suppose I go back to the hospital today and see how he’s doing, and then take you back to San Antonio.”

“Don’t you think we should talk about what we’re going to do?”

She took a bigger bite of toast, chewed, swallowed. It was almost as if the bite bought her time to think. To deliberate how to put her next words. “Well, I don’t actually need you to ‘do’ anything. It’s not like we’re...well...”

Her gaze met his and his pulse jumped again. He frowned. The problem was he kept having these reactions to her and he didn’t want to. It muddied the waters too much. Plus there was the baby to think about. They needed to set the boundaries of their relationship now so there was no confusion later. “How do you see me participating?” He finished his toast and put his plate in the sink.

“I don’t know, to be honest,” she replied. “Financially I’m okay. I guess I was just thinking you needed to know and not much beyond that.”

That she didn’t need his money was a slight relief but it also didn’t sit well. What kind of man would he be if he didn’t help support his own kid? Certainly not the man his father raised. And his mom and dad were already perplexed about his choice to leave the company for a year to pursue rodeo. A waste of time, they’d called it. Impractical.