DONNA ALWARD - The Texan's Baby

“What if I introduce you and just, I don’t know, say that we were together when I got the call and you offered to drive?”

“Together? In San Antonio?”

She bit down on her lip. “Oh. Right. Well, we could always say that we’ve been seeing each other a little, but we weren’t saying anything because it was early days.”

“You mean lie.”

“It’s not technically a lie. We have seen each other a little...”

“It’s deliberately misleading them, so yeah, in my books that’s a lie.”

The light changed and he moved through the intersection. On one hand, his stubborn stance annoyed her but on the other, she admired his honesty. “So what, you just want to walk in and say ‘hey, I’m Chris, and I knocked up Lizzie?’”

Now it was his turn to look perturbed. “I didn’t say that.”

“So what if they think we’ve been seeing each other? It’ll make breaking the news easier.”

“What you mean is it’ll make it look better, right? I mean, getting accidentally pregnant by your boyfriend looks marginally better than picking up some guy in a bar.”

“You don’t have to make it sound so crude.” Yes, they’d hooked up. But it hadn’t been... Lizzie swallowed thickly. That night it had seemed as though they’d known each other forever. He hadn’t felt like a stranger. Perhaps that’s why she’d truly let go with him. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, being beside him now caused the same sort of stirrings she’d felt that night. She wasn’t as immune as she’d like to pretend.

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.