Teresa Southwick - The Bachelor's Baby

Should she put him down and let him cry it out? It tore at her heart to listen to him, but she didn’t know what else to do. In his crib, she put him on his tummy and patted his bottom. His crying increased in volume and he lifted his head, leaned to the side and rolled over on his back. Wet with tears, his little face was blotchy and red.

“Sweetie, I don’t know what you want. Is your tummy upset? What is it?”

The doorbell rang. Casey looked at her watch… 9:00 p.m. Who would stop by at this time of night? She glanced quickly at the sobbing baby, then ran to the front door.

When she opened it, she wasn’t really surprised to see Tucker standing there. He glanced at the doorway where the wailing was coming from, took one look at her face and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Jason’s been crying for an hour, and I can’t get him to stop. I don’t know what to do—” She put her fingertips to her mouth, stifling the sob that threatened.

“Let me look in on him,” he said, frowning. He set something on the entry way floor and followed Casey through the condo to the baby’s bedroom.

Tucker reached into the crib and picked Jason up, without any of the awkwardness he’d shown the first time. Putting the child up to his shoulder, he patted his back and walked around the room, speaking in a deep, soft, calm voice. Casey watched him, torn between gratitude that he was there to relieve her and guilt that she had nearly come apart under the stress.

After a few minutes the crying lessened to an occasional moist hiccup. Finally Jason was quiet, with his face nestled into Tucker’s neck.

He looked at her and whispered, “What now?”

With hand motions, Casey indicated he should put Jason in his bed. He did, and the child stirred and snorted. Tucker, rubbed his back for a minute or two and finally he was sound asleep. Tenderly he pulled the light blanket over the baby, gently ran his knuckle over the little head, then they tiptoed out of the room.

Casey exhaled slowly and sat on the sofa. “I never knew how wonderful silence could sound.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”

She looked at him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see Jason.”

She remembered he had set something down in the entryway, but she’d been too distraught to notice what it was. “What did you bring?” she asked.

He glanced in that direction. “I forgot all about that.” He walked over and picked up the object, and all she could tell was that it was made out of wood. When he brought it to her, she could see it was a rocking horse.

She couldn’t help smiling. “That’s really cute. You’re aware, though, that it will be at least a year before he can ride it?”

“So?”

“So I have a feeling this is a symbolic gesture from a man of few words.”

“You mean my way of saying I want you and Jason to come to the ranch?”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

He shrugged. “Could be. I just saw it in a toy store and bought it. Since you brought the subject up, have you considered my proposition?”

Casey shifted nervously on the sofa, noticing a similar air of tension in Tucker. He stood on the opposite side of the coffee table, waiting for her answer. Not trusting herself to look into his blue eyes and chance their effect on her, she glanced at the little rocking horse. The wooden toy didn’t even reach his knee.

“I have considered the possibility of moving to the ranch,” she said.

“What do you think?”

She sighed. “That it’s a big decision.”

“Believe me, I understand. But I want to know my son. I want him to know me,” he said, touching his chest.

She had to try one more time to discourage him. “Be realistic, Tucker. You’re on the rodeo circuit. You wouldn’t be there. Why should I leave everything I’m familiar with to go to a place completely foreign to me, when you’ll be on the road?”

“What if I take some time off? Would that make a difference?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but there’s more to consider than you.” She sighed. “Would you like some coffee? I could make a pot.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like that.”

Casey went to the kitchen and Tucker followed. She busied herself with measuring water and coffee grounds into the automatic drip maker. When she finished, she turned back to him, where he leaned against the white tile countertop beside her matching refrigerator.

Tall, powerful, charismatic. She didn’t have to look into his eyes to be affected by Tucker Smith. Even with her back to him, all the nerves in her body tingled with awareness. Looking up at every gorgeous six foot two inches of him was even more disconcerting.

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