The Maverick's Ready-Made Family Page 4

  “I swear, the testosterone level in here just shot through the roof.” Catherine turned back to her friend. “So tell me—which one of those very sexy cowboys caught your eye?”

  Antonia felt her cheeks flush. “Neither of them.”

  “Liar.”

  “I do know them,” she finally admitted. “Clay and Forrest Traub. They’ve been staying at Wright’s Way.”

  “Now I know why you haven’t been coming into town very often. The scenery is obviously much better at the ranch than I remembered.”

  “They are nice to look at,” Antonia acknowledged.

  “Nice?” her friend scoffed. “Those are real vintage cowboys.”

  “How do you know?”

  “You can tell by the way they carry themselves—the strength, the confidence, the swagger.” She fanned her cheeks. “Those men have it in spades. And there’s just something about a man with a baby in his arms that somehow enhances his masculinity.”

  “Newlywed,” Antonia reminded her friend.

  “Newly and blissfully wed,” Catherine agreed. “But the ring on my finger hasn’t rendered me blind.”

  “Proven by the fact that you did notice the baby he was carrying.”

  Catherine winced. “His?”

  Antonia nodded.

  “Married?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then what’s the problem?” her friend demanded. “He’s a single dad, you’re a soon-to-be single mom—”

  “Yeah, and I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t be attracted to me.” Antonia’s dry tone was accompanied by a pointed glance at her round belly.

  “Are you kidding? Do you ever look in the mirror? You’re gorgeous, Antonia.”

  “And that’s why you’re my best friend,” she told Catherine. “Because you can actually say things like that with a straight face.”

  Catherine sighed. “Okay, tell me about him.”

  “I don’t know a lot,” she admitted. “Just that he’s from Rust Creek Falls, he came to Thunder Canyon in September and he has an adorable six-month-old son named Bennett.”

  “His brother’s the one who started that dog therapy group for veterans, isn’t he?”

  “Along with Annabel Cates, soon-to-be Annabel North,” Antonia clarified.

  “Love has definitely been in the air in Thunder Canyon,” Catherine mused. “And maybe, if you just took the time to breathe...”

  “I’ve got a baby on the way that I already love more than I ever could have imagined,” Antonia told her friend. “I don’t want or need anything more than that.”

  “Don’t you think it’s important for a child to have a daddy?” Catherine asked.

  “In a perfect world, of course,” she agreed. “But right now, I’m more concerned about being the best mother that I can be than finding a father for my baby.”

  “You’re going to be a wonderful mother,” her friend assured her.

  Antonia hoped she was right, but she had so many questions and doubts—and no one she could talk to the way she’d always been able to talk to her mother. Catherine was great, of course, but her friend didn’t have any experience when it came to pregnancy or childbirth, so she couldn’t know anything about the worries and insecurities that plagued Antonia.

  * * *

  A mother’s worries never went away.

  Ellie Traub could attest to that. Even when her boys were grown—as all of hers were—she never stopped worrying about them. She’d had moments with respect to each of her boys, although Clayton had always given her more cause for concern—at least until Forrest had shipped out to Iraq, but that was something she wouldn’t let herself think about right now.

  Right now, she was focused on Clayton and her plan to get him back to Rust Creek Falls. The fourth youngest of her six sons and just as handsome as his brothers, Clay had done well in school, excelled at sports and had been popular with the girls. Maybe too popular.

  He was a hard worker, she’d give him that, and he’d happily toiled on the family ranch alongside his father and brothers. He’d also boasted a very active social life, dating a lot of women over the years, although not any one woman extensively or exclusively. Certainly he’d never brought anyone home to meet the family, and when he hit his twenty-ninth birthday, Ellie had begun to despair that he never would settle down.

  She’d only voiced her concerns to him once, at which time he’d confirmed that he was enjoying life too much to think about getting married or starting a family. And then an ex-girlfriend had shown up with a baby in tow.

  There were worse things, Ellie knew very well, than having a son who’d fathered a child out of wedlock. But she worried that Clay’s refusal to marry the mother of his child was further proof that he wasn’t ever going to grow up and take responsibility. On that point, he’d quickly and definitively proven her wrong.

  She couldn’t fault him for making his son his number one priority, but now that he’d proven to be so intently focused on his child, she did worry that he was ignoring other aspects of his life. A man needed a wife—and Bennett needed a mother—and she doubted that Clayton was going to find any prospects to fulfill either role while he was living as a recluse at some boarding house on the outskirts of town.

  She had Bennett in her arms and was returning to the back room that D.J. had reserved for their family gathering when she saw the little boy’s eyes light up and his arms stretch out as if reaching for something. Curious, she turned to see what had caught his attention, and found the answer wasn’t a “what” but a “who”—a very attractive female who.

  “You’ve got an eye for the pretty ladies, just like your daddy, don’t you?” she murmured.

  But Ellie noticed that the pretty lady was looking right back at the baby and smiling. She gave a little wave. “Hi, Bennett.”

  Ellie moved closer to her table. “I guess you know my grandson.”

  The young woman nodded. “I’m Antonia Wright. Your sons and grandson are staying at my family’s ranch. And this is my friend Catherine.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you,” Ellie said, instinctively noting that while Catherine’s left hand displayed an exquisite diamond solitaire and matching wedding band, Antonia’s hand was bare.

  She found herself wondering why neither Clay nor Forrest had mentioned that there was a gorgeous, unattached woman living at the ranch where they were staying. A woman who had obviously bonded with Clay’s infant son.

  Actually, she was sure that Forrest was oblivious to both Antonia’s beauty and her gender. She was equally sure that Clay was oblivious to neither. And she started to think that it might not be such a bad idea for Clay and Bennett to stay in Thunder Canyon a little while longer.

  “Do you know what? I think I forgot my lipstick in the ladies’ room,” she said to Antonia. “Would you mind if I left Bennett with you for a sec while I go back to get it?”

  “Of course not,” the young woman agreed, rising from her seat to take Bennett into her arms.

  It was then that Ellie realized the situation might be a little more complicated than she’d thought.

  Because while Antonia Wright might not have a ring on her finger, she definitely had a baby in her belly.

  Chapter Three

  Clay hadn’t objected to his mother’s offer to take Bennett to the ladies’ room to wash him up while they waited for their food to arrive. He knew how much Ellie missed her grandson and anytime she wanted to help out with the baby, he was willing to let her. But he did wonder, after more than ten minutes had passed, what was taking her so long. When the food was delivered before she’d returned, he slipped out of the private dining room to track her down and saw Ellie handing his little boy over to...Toni?

  He hadn’t expected to see her here tonight, and his pulse gave
a quick little jolt. He could lament the instinctive response as much as he wanted, but he couldn’t deny it. The bigger surprise came when he watched his mother walk away, leaving Bennett with their landlady.

  Clay wasn’t worried—he trusted Toni implicitly. But he knew her; his mother didn’t. And he couldn’t help but be a little suspicious about Ellie’s willingness to relinquish her beloved grandson to a stranger.

  In a few quick strides, Clay was standing beside Toni’s table. Bennett smiled at him but didn’t lift his head off of Antonia’s shoulder. Not that Clay could blame his son for choosing a beautiful woman over his daddy and, in this case, Bennett had the attention of two beautiful women.

  “Small world,” he said to Toni, and smiled.

  “I’m not sure about the world, but Thunder Canyon is,” she replied.

  “Even so, there isn’t anyone anywhere who can top D.J.’s ribs,” her dinner companion chimed in.

  “Can’t argue with that,” he replied, then offered his hand. “Clayton Traub.”

  “Catherine Clif—I mean, Overton,” she said, then grinned and wiggled the fingers on her left hand. “I’m still getting used to the new name.”

  “Congratulations,” Clay said.

  “Thanks. But that reminds me, I should be getting home to my hubby.”

  Toni narrowed her gaze at her friend. “I thought you said Cody wasn’t going to be home from Billings until late.”

  “That’s what I thought, but—” Catherine held up her phone “—he just sent me a text to say he was home.”

  Toni’s gaze shifted to the instrument in her hand, as if she didn’t believe her friend was being entirely truthful about the message. In fact, she looked as if she might have snatched the phone from her friend’s hand to verify the claim, if not for the fact that her own hands were full of baby.

  “It was nice meeting you,” Catherine said to Clay. Then, to Toni, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  And with a quick wave over her shoulder, she was gone.

  Clay slid into the seat she’d vacated. “I think your friend just stuck you with the bill.”

  “It was my turn to pay, anyway,” she told him.

  “And somehow you got stuck with my child again, too.”

  She smiled at that. “Your mom had to pop back into the ladies’ room.”

  His mother had barely let Bennett out of her sight since she’d arrived in Thunder Canyon, so Clay was still suspicious of Ellie’s motivations.

  “You met my mom?”

  “Bennett introduced us,” she said, which didn’t really explain anything, but Clay let it go.

  “Do you want to come and meet the rest of the family?”

  Toni immediately shook her head; he laughed.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to seem so adamant. It just looks like you’ve got some kind of family reunion going on, and I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

  “It wouldn’t be an intrusion,” he assured her.

  “Thanks,” she said. “But I should be getting back to the ranch. Morning—and the breakfast crowd—comes early.”

  “It’s pancakes on Saturdays, isn’t it?” he asked hopefully, rising to his feet again.

  “It is,” she agreed.

  “Then we will be there.” He reached for his son, sighed when he saw that the little guy had fallen asleep on her shoulder again. “If I can get him up in the morning. Unfortunately, a half hour nap at this time of day will keep him up till midnight.”

  “Sorry,” Toni apologized as she shifted the baby to him. “I didn’t know I was supposed to keep him awake.”

  “You weren’t supposed to do anything,” he assured her. “That was my mother’s self-appointed task. But thank you again for stepping in.”

  She tapped a fingertip to Bennett’s nose. “It was my pleasure.”

  As Clay watched her walk away, he couldn’t help but think that every moment he spent with Toni Wright was very much his pleasure.

  * * *

  The house was dark and mostly quiet when Antonia returned home—the only light and sound being that which emanated from the television in the living room. Her brothers had headed to Bozeman for a bachelor party for a friend of Hudson’s and wouldn’t be back until Sunday, so it had to be her father who was home.

  The Wright brothers worked hard during the week, and partied harder on the weekends. The Hitching Post used to be their favorite hangout and, in the past, they’d been known to drink beer and hustle pool there until all hours. Unfortunately, the establishment had gone out of business the previous spring after the owner passed away, forcing the locals to find other watering holes—at least temporarily. But shortly after The Hitching Post shut down, local boy Jason Traub bought the property and planned to reopen the renovated establishment later in October.

  If that timetable held, Antonia’s brothers—and a lot of other Thunder Canyon residents—would be very happy.

  Moving farther into the living room, Antonia saw that her father had fallen asleep in front of the television with a bottle of whiskey and highball glass on the table beside him. She sighed softly. For as long as she could remember, John Wright had always liked a glass of whiskey in the evening, but he’d rarely indulged in more than one glass. All of that had changed when his beloved wife passed away. John had turned to the bottle with increasing frequency, seeking solace in its contents, refusing to accept that there wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to drown his sorrow.

  But over the past few months, Antonia had gotten the impression that his drinking had lessened somewhat. Apparently that had just been wishful thinking on her part.

  Except that when she reached for his glass, intending to take it to the kitchen, she noticed that the whiskey bottle still looked full. On closer inspection, she saw that the seal around the cap hadn’t even been cracked.

  She lifted the empty glass, sniffed.

  It was clean.

  She set the glass down again. She didn’t understand why he’d taken the bottle out if he wasn’t drinking, but she didn’t care. It was only the not drinking part that mattered.

  With a combination of relief and genuine affection, she touched her lips gently to his forehead, intending to slip out of the room and up to her own bed. In the past, if he’d drunken himself into a stupor, his only response would have been a snort or a snore. Tonight, he shifted, his eyes flickered open. Eyes that were weary but clear.

  “Antonia?”

  “Sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he told her. “Where are you comin’ in from so late?”

  She smiled. “It’s not that late, and I was out for dinner with Catherine.”

  “You missed a good meal right here,” he told her. “Peggy made roast pork tonight.”

  She’d known what was on the menu, of course, since she and Peggy planned the week’s meals together every Sunday. And she wondered, not for the first time, if John Wright had any idea what she did around the ranch, how many responsibilities she’d taken on to make sure the bills got paid.

  At one time, she’d thought he was proud of her. Since she got pregnant, she wasn’t so sure. And all she said now was, “I’m glad you enjoyed the pork.”

  “You had a good meal? It’s important to eat right—” he cleared his throat “—for you and the baby.”

  She thought again about her choice of fries rather than veggies but refused to feel guilty. Besides, she figured the glass of milk she’d had with her dinner helped balance out the indulgence.

  “Lucinda craved the most unhealthy foods when she was pregnant,” her father told her now. “Especially when she was expecting you.”

  Antonia’s breath caught in her throat at his mention of her mother. In the two years since Lucinda had been gone, she could co
unt on one hand the number of times that he’d spoken his deceased wife’s name. The fact that he’d mentioned her now—maybe even in an effort to connect with his daughter?—was the most precious gift to Antonia.

  “What kind of unhealthy foods?” she asked, mentally crossing her fingers that he would keep talking, that her question wouldn’t cause him to shut down.

  “French fries, potato chips, ice cream.” He sent a pointed look in her direction, no doubt to let her know that he’d found her stash in the freezer.

  “Ice cream is a dairy product,” she said, just a little defensively.

  He smiled. “Just wait until your child uses that same line of logic on you.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  “We’re never as ready as we think we are,” he told her.

  A familiar sadness clouded his eyes, and she knew that he was thinking of his wife again, but this time, the memories weren’t nearly as happy.

  “Life is so much easier when you have someone to share the ups and downs with,” he said. “I just wish you had someone by your side.”

  “I don’t need anyone to hold my hand.”

  “I know you don’t,” he agreed. “You’ve always been so strong and independent. But sometimes it’s nice to know there’s a hand there—just in case.”

  She understood that he was only trying to be helpful, but she didn’t agree. Experience had taught her that the only person she could truly rely on was herself.

  * * *

  Clay and Bennett didn’t come to the dining room for breakfast the next morning.

  It wasn’t a big deal, really. Breakfast and dinner were part of the package at Wright’s Way, but there was no obligation on anyone to eat in the dining room or announce their intentions to do so. But Antonia was surprised by their absence because Clay had made a point of saying that he was looking forward to her pancakes.

  Still, she didn’t dwell on it while she finished cleaning up the kitchen. And when she sat at the table with a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, she certainly didn’t expect he would show up in the doorway. But he did, just as she was popping a spoonful of the frozen decadence into her mouth.