The Lawman's Convenient Bride Page 6
Our girl. Should it bother her that he thought of Marybeth as partly his?
Well, if it should, it didn’t. Not really. Instead, she found his claiming of her daughter charming. Like his fan club and the cute way he blushed.
“Jody?”
“Um?”
“How’s she been?” he whispered, bending over the sleeping Marybeth.
“So far, so good. A little fussy. Everybody says she’s gorgeous.”
“Because she is.” Reluctantly, he straightened. “I want to pick her up.”
“Don’t you dare. Let her sleep. And you’ll get your chance before you know it. It won’t be long before she’s awake again, believe me.” He was looking at her so...steadily. “What?”
He took the chair by the bed. “You look tired. Did you get any sleep?”
“Please. People in and out constantly. Marybeth fussing. Trying to learn how to nurse her. It goes on...”
He peered over at the baby again. “She seems peaceful now.”
“Let’s enjoy it while it lasts. And I have to ask, what’s with the overnight bag?”
He glanced at it as though he hadn’t noticed until now that he’d carried it in with him. “Oh, that. I talked to the nurse a few minutes ago.”
“About?”
“I had to promise her some of your pie, but they’ll be bringing in a cot for me in a little while.”
She knew she absolutely, positively ought to draw the line at this. “You think you’re sleeping in this room with me?”
His big shoulders slumped. “Look. All right. If it’s too much, I can camp out in the waiting room.”
“Seth. Marybeth is fine. You should just go home.”
A muscle twitched in his rocklike jaw. “It’s just one night. I’ll feel better if I’m here. They won’t let me have a cot out in the waiting room, but I’ll just sleep in a chair out there...” And he looked at her through those gorgeous eyes that were a warm brown with golden flecks near the iris. Oh, God. He was so working her. “I want to be here in the morning. I want to take you back to your house, help you get settled in...”
Before she could make herself form the word no, there was a tap on the door.
An orderly stuck his head in. “We have your roll-away.”
And just like that, it was decided. Seth jumped up to help, and Jody didn’t say a word to stop him.
It wasn’t so bad, having him in the room with her through the night. He made himself useful, getting up more than once to quiet the baby when she cried, even changing her diaper twice. And the next morning, he went to Jody’s house to pick up a few things for her while she waited for Dr. Kapur to release her and Marybeth.
He came back with the car seat, which he’d correctly installed in the passenger-side second-row seat of his big Jeep. He’d even figured out how to put in the soft newborn insert so that Marybeth fit in there just right, all cozy and safe.
He helped Jody up into the passenger seat and then he drove them home. Once there, he took charge, getting Jody and the baby all comfy in Jody’s room. By then it was almost noon. He made sandwiches and heated up some canned soup and ate lunch with Jody before heading off to the sheriff’s office to get a little work done.
At six thirty, he returned with takeout from Romano’s—best Italian in town.
“Seth, you don’t have to bring food. My sisters are handling all the meals for the first few days. Elise dropped by while you were at the justice center. She brought her famous roast chicken and browned potatoes.”
“Great,” Seth replied as he loaded lasagna onto plates for them. “We’ll have the chicken tomorrow night.”
He also brought a foil-wrapped pan of sinfully delicious Samoa cheesecake bars that someone in his fan club had whipped up for him. Jody ate three of those.
“Don’t bring any more desserts into my house,” she grumbled as she reached for that third bar. “Or I’ll never lose this baby weight.”
“Whatever you say, Jody.” Already, she knew what he meant by that. She could dole out instructions to her heart’s content. And he would go ahead and do things his way.
That night, he slept on the blow-up bed in her tiny third bedroom. She shouldn’t have let him. But he asked her so nicely, and he was so great with Marybeth. In the morning before he left, he made her oatmeal with raisins and honey.
It was nice, having him fix breakfast and put it in front of her.
“Thanks, Seth. I know I keep saying that, but you really have gone above and beyond.”
He sent her an oblique glance. “I want to ask you something, but I don’t want to piss you off.”
She enjoyed a bite of oatmeal. “I’m worn-out and cranky. You know that, right?”
“I think that any way I answer that is going to be wrong.”
“What I meant was, good thinking on the part about not pissing me off.” To that, he shrugged and sipped his coffee, and she was suddenly sure that, whatever it was, he’d decided not to ask. That was when she realized that she wanted him to ask. “Go ahead. What is it?”
“About you and Nicky...” He dipped up a bite of the hot cereal and brought it to his mouth. Once he’d swallowed, he muttered gruffly, “What happened with that?”
Ugh. He was such a straight-and-narrow kind of guy. She doubted he was going to think much of her answer. “How about this? I’m not mad at you for asking. And I want you to try not to get mad when I answer.”
She expected him to waffle on that. But he only said, “Deal.”
So she told him about that night in August. “I hadn’t been out with anyone in a while—a few years, as a matter of fact.”
“Why not?”
No way she felt up to going into all that right then. “Do you want to hear about what happened with your brother or not?”
He saluted her with his coffee mug. “Sorry. Go ahead.”
“I decided I needed to get out more, have a little more fun in my life. So on a hot night last August, I went to Alicia’s.” The roadhouse was out on the state highway, about five miles from town. “I had a great time. Danced a lot. Drank too much. And met your brother, who was sweet and charming and a really good dancer. Things just...took their natural course. We got a room in the motel across from the roadhouse and spent the night together.”
He was watching her too closely.
Her throat felt tight, and she gulped to loosen it. “And, yes, we used condoms. And it was just that one night.”
Seth sat back in his chair. The room was too quiet. She almost wished Marybeth would wake up and start crying. She could go soothe her baby and stop talking about Nick.
But Marybeth slept on. And Jody continued, “I liked him a lot. But honestly, he was too young for me. And I don’t mean just in years. He was...such a sweetheart. So open and true. I felt a thousand years old around him.”
“Why? You’re not that much older.”
Jody chuckled. “Thanks. I think.” She fiddled with her spoon. “As for why, it was just the way I felt, that’s all—older than Nick in a thousand different ways.” Yeah, there was more to the why of it. But all that was another story, her story, a story she didn’t feel like sharing. “Nick wanted to go out with me and I was flattered, but I knew it wasn’t going anywhere. He was a good guy, though, and we became friends. We’d hang out together here. And at the ranch. But we never got romantic again.”
Seth sat forward. “He didn’t tell me about the baby. But he did say he wanted for there to be more with you.”
“Well, that wasn’t happening. Not for me. And when I found out I was pregnant...” That had been awful. The stick had turned blue, and she’d had to face the fact that she’d done it again.
“When you found out you were pregnant, what?”
“Come to think of it, didn’t we cover that already—on t
he first day you came into Bloom to ask me if my baby was Nick’s?”
“You mean, that you went to him right away with the news?”
“Yeah. He wanted marriage. I didn’t. But we agreed we would learn how to be parents to our baby without being married. And then, way too soon, he died.”
“And...that’s it? That’s all of it?” He glowered at her.
At least, she thought he was glowering. “Yeah. That’s all—and remember, you said you would try not to get mad.”
“I’m not mad.”
“Well, Seth. You look mad.”
“I miss him, that’s all.” His voice was like gravel rubbing on sandpaper, and those gold flecks in his eyes shone extra bright. “He and his mother were the heart of our family.”
Jody felt the pressure of tears at the back of her throat. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. It sounded limp and inadequate, but what else could she say?
He pushed his chair back and picked up his empty bowl. “Thanks. For telling me. You finished?”
She passed him her bowl.
* * *
That evening at six thirty, he appeared on her doorstep again.
She was way too glad to see him. He made her life easier, putting the dinner on, washing up afterward, bringing amazing baked goods that she really should stop eating. He was always ready to help with the baby.
And there was just something so rock-solid about him. He was too serious, and half the time she just knew he was thinking unflattering things about her. But still, he made her feel safe and protected, as though nothing could go too far wrong as long as he was nearby. Already, they seemed to have fallen seamlessly into a daily routine.
The next morning, Friday, he made breakfast again. And when he left for work, she found herself wondering how she would get along when he stopped coming back.
Marybeth fussed constantly. To Jody, it seemed she must be hungry, though Jody’s milk had already come down. It was whitish in color, no longer the yellowish colostrum babies got the first few days after birth. So the milk was there, but Marybeth just didn’t seem to be getting enough.
Jody called the nursing coach that Dr. Kapur had recommended. The coach, Debbie, came out to the house and worked with her, giving her pointers on how to make sure Marybeth latched on properly, showing her the best nursing positions, helping her set up her rocking recliner with pillows and everything she needed close by for convenience and ease. So she would be relaxed, so Marybeth would feel safe and cozy and keep at it long enough to fill her little tummy.
Debbie’s visit didn’t help. That weekend was awful. Marybeth cried all the time, and Jody tried not to cry right along with her. Jody’s breasts felt knotted and achy with milk, and she was already considering pumping and then feeding Marybeth her breast milk in a bottle.
But Debbie had urged Jody to give it time.
“Marybeth is doing fine,” Debbie had said. “Sometimes it takes several days before mother and baby get comfortable with the nursing process.”
Jody wasn’t comfortable. And judging by all the wailing, neither was her baby girl. Still, she stuck with it, but she worried constantly that her baby was starving. Plus, the endless crying made her want to scream.
She was supposed to be doing it right this time.
And she wasn’t. Her little baby was miserable and Jody was, too.
Thank God for Seth. He continued to sleep on the blow-up bed in the spare room. Both Saturday and Sunday, he went off to the justice center, but only for a few hours each day. Sunday, he drove out to the Bar-Y, too—and came back with a big suitcase full of his clothes.
The sight of that suitcase really lifted Jody’s spirits. If he was bringing more clothes, then that meant he intended to keep camping out at her house for a while. Right?
Was it wrong to be ridiculously happy about that?
Really, she ought to tell him he didn’t need to spend every free second helping her take care of her baby, that he should go home to the Bar-Y and relax at night instead of walking the floor with a squalling newborn.
But she told him no such thing. Instead, when he showed up with that suitcase, she gave him the old dresser in the spare room and told him the closet in there was his, too.
And then Marybeth started crying.
Seth put off unpacking to settle her down. By now, it seemed to Jody that Marybeth only stopped crying when Seth rocked her in his big arms.
Monday morning when he went out the door headed for the sheriff’s office, she almost grabbed his arm and begged him not to go.
After he left, Clara, who’d recovered from the flu by then, stopped by. Marybeth bawled through her visit. Clara held her anyway and said she was beautiful and reassured Jody that everything would be fine.
But everything wasn’t fine. Marybeth was suffering, probably starving.
That afternoon, Jody called the nursing coach again. Debbie showed up a half an hour later. She gave Jody a few more tips for soothing Marybeth and then ran through the nursing pointers a second time, adding some relaxation exercises for the stressed-out mom to do while the baby napped. As if.
Debbie said the baby was healthy, and there was nothing to worry about. She asked for a quick rundown of Jody’s diet and then declared that Jody hadn’t mentioned any foods or beverages that might affect Jody’s breast milk and be irritating to Marybeth’s delicate system. Debbie wanted to know how many wet-diaper changes Marybeth needed in a twenty-four-hour period. When Jody said four or so, Debbie said that was normal.
Next they talked about Marybeth’s poop. Because when you had a little baby, poop mattered. Debbie said one bowel movement a day at this point was normal, too, that Jody just needed to keep working with the process and give it a few more days. Things would settle down. Debbie guaranteed that.
“And call anytime.” She gave Jody a blithe smile as she went out the door.
“I will.” Jody nodded obediently while screaming inside.
Marybeth did go to sleep eventually. Jody put her in her bassinet and turned on the monitor. In the great room, she tried a few of her new relaxation exercises. Did they help? Not really. That Marybeth might wake up any minute and start crying again kept her on edge.
So she gave up trying to relax and checked in with Lois at Bloom to make sure everything was on track there. When she hung up with Lois, she took a load of laundry from the dryer. A single cry erupted from the baby monitor as Jody started to fold a tiny pink polka-dot shirt. Clutching the shirt to her chest, she held her breath and waited, praying Marybeth would just go back to sleep.
But the cries continued, getting louder and more insistent.
Jody tossed the little shirt in the laundry basket, grabbed the basket and took it to her bedroom. She emptied the pile of laundry on the bed, dropped the basket on the floor and bent over the bassinet.
“Shh, now. It’s okay...”
Marybeth screwed up her red face and wailed all the louder.
Jody picked her up and carried her to her nursing chair.
After Marybeth had nursed, Jody burped her, changed her and even sang to her. That seemed to work, which completely surprised Jody, who couldn’t carry a tune if her life depended on it. But Marybeth seemed to like the sound of Jody’s voice. She settled down and relaxed against Jody’s shoulder.
For a little while.
By six, she was fussing again, and Jody couldn’t wait for Seth to arrive.
And by quarter of seven, when he still hadn’t shown, she wanted to knock herself out with a hammer. Anything to get away from her little baby’s misery and her own complete failure to be the mom she had promised herself she would be this time.
Last time, she’d done what she had to do. She’d given up her little boy. But this time, with Marybeth...
This time was her second chance.
But she wasn’t doing it right. It wasn’t working out. It was all going wrong.
Seth finally appeared at twenty after seven with a giant bag of Romano’s takeout in one hand and a clear plastic cake caddy containing a gorgeous chocolate cake in the other. Jody wanted to shove the baby at him, grab the cake and run howling out the door.
Instead, she held her crying child on her shoulder and followed him to the kitchen, where he set the food on the counter and explained, “I’m sorry I’m late. Little family dispute. The parties involved demanded to talk to the sheriff personally before they would put down their weapons.”
“Weapons!” Jody repeated in alarm, causing Marybeth to cry louder. Jody lowered her voice. “They had weapons?”
“Don’t get excited. I drove out there. We talked. They put away their guns and agreed to get some family counseling. Crisis resolved.” He stepped to the sink to wash his hands.
Jody experienced a moment’s relief that no one was hurt. But Marybeth just kept on crying—louder than ever if that was even possible. Jody’s frustration and hopelessness came flooding back. In a second or two, she would break, blow it completely, collapse to the floor wailing as loud as the baby.
Seth said the magic words. “Here. Let me take her.”
The tears were pushing, demanding she let them flow. Her throat ached with the effort to hold them back. Failure, mocked an evil voice in her head. You’re a pitiful excuse for a mother.
Seth was watching her. Even with her vision blurred by held-back tears, she could see his concern. Clearly, he got that she was losing it. “Jody.” He put up both hands and patted the air between them, and she felt worse than ever. The poor guy not only faced angry families with guns at work, he came home to Marybeth’s incompetent mom having a meltdown. “Jody, it’s okay...”
“No, Seth. No, it is not okay.” She had to get out of there. “Just take her. Please.” Lifting Marybeth off her shoulder, she handed her over.
Seth took her in those big, gentle hands of his. As soon as he had her, before he could say one more word, Jody whirled on her heel and ran for her room, where she swung the door shut harder than she should have and gave the privacy lock a vicious twist.