A Baby Changes Everything (14 page)

The flames sizzled in angry protest as they wove and ducked and were finally vanquished.

After about ten terrifying minutes, the crisis was over. Cruz stood there with his horses, trying to regulate his breathing, taking in the damage.

It might have been one mother of a nightmare, had it not been for the spooked horses.

And the damage.

Cruz slid off the quarter horse, handed the reins over to Jaime and moved forward. The rain lashed his naked chest, plastered his jeans against him and stung his eyes and face as he surveyed what the lightning had done.

The horses would cost him time. They'd been badly spooked and it would be a struggle to get them back to where they'd been only this afternoon. He knew he'd have
to work hard. But that was all right. With Savannah gone, there was nothing else but work for him. He was up to it.

He made his way around to the back, to where the rain was mingling with the ashes, making mud. Making despair. No amount of hard work would bring him the money he needed to fix the part of the stable that had been destroyed by the fire. Not immediately, which was when he needed to begin repairs.

Deprived of his wife and son, and with his ranch sustaining a hit, Cruz was beginning to identify very strongly with Job in the Bible.

This was what it had to feel like, coming up against insurmountable odds.

Dragging his hand through his hair, sending the last wave of water flying, Cruz strode back to see to the horses.

 

Morning did nothing to lift Cruz's mood. Granted, no animals had been lost and the damage could have been a great deal worse, but that didn't minimize the fact that there was damage—damage he needed to fix.

But there was no money to help him fix it. Not for a while. Because he'd paid cash for the four horses he'd bought to train and sell, plus the extra horse he'd picked up, his finances were strapped to the limit.

One of the local ranchers, Nathan Purdue, was coming to look over Cruz's prize stallion, Maximillian, in order to consider paying stud fees for the animal. But even at a thousand dollars or so, that would hardly put a dent in the amount he needed.

Maybe his dream needed to be reconsidered.

No, damn it, this was what he'd wanted since he was five years old. Since he'd “communicated” with his first
horse. This was who he was. If this was taken from him, then he had no frame of reference any longer.

With a sigh, he headed for the second stable. For lack of a better plan, they'd doubled up the horses in each stall, but close quarters were not always advisable, even under the best of circumstances.

As he approached the building, he heard a vehicle behind him. A very small part of him thought it might be Savannah experiencing a change of heart.

God, he hoped so. He could do with a friendly face at this point.

But when he swung around to look, he saw that the friendly face belonged to Vanessa, not his wife.

Leaving her car parked askew in the driveway, Vanessa quickly made her way toward Cruz. Unable to stand it any longer, she had made up her mind late last night to meddle in her friends' affairs. The two of them needed to come to their senses and make up. If ever two people belonged together, Cruz and Savannah did. Vanessa had damn well had enough of remaining on the sidelines.

She was so focused on her mission, the prevailing scene only penetrated when she was several feet away from the damaged portion of the stable. The smell of burned, wet wood was almost sickening.

Her eyes wide, she looked at Cruz. “What happened here?” she cried.

He shrugged. “The wrath of God, maybe.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “The storm last night decided to have an impromptu barbecue, using my stable for wood.”

Vanessa slowly walked around the perimeter. From the front, it didn't look so bad. “Well, at least part of it's standing.”

He frowned at her cheerful tone. Just like Savannah, he thought. Except that he couldn't muster up his wife's optimism. “Yeah.”

Vanessa had already made up her mind on the drive over that if money was the chief obstacle to her friend's happiness she was prepared to lend it to them. Hell, she'd shove it down Cruz's throat if she had to.

Crossing her arms, she walked back to the most damaged part of the stable.

“How much are you going to need to get back on your feet?” she demanded. “Ten thousand? Forty? Help me out here, Cruz. I'm not good at estimates the way Savannah is.”

His expression darkened. “Are you offering to lend me money?”

Damn his pride, anyway, she thought. “That's the general idea.”

Because she was a friend and meant well, he bit back the first words that rose to his lips, instead saying tersely, “I don't need your money.”

She inclined her head, allowing his comment. To an extent.

“Well, maybe not my money, but you're damn well going to need someone's money, and why shouldn't it be mine? At least you know I wouldn't charge you a high rate of interest. To me you're not a risk. A lending institution might not see it that way, but then they don't know you the way I do.” He began turning away and she grabbed his arm, forcing him to listen. “Look, if you don't feel strapped, I think you and Savannah can get back to the business of loving each other instead of sparring with each other the way you're doing right now. You're making three people miserable. Four once the baby's born.”

He didn't like people meddling in his affairs, even people he liked. “I'm not going to borrow from friends, Vanessa.”

“It's a hell of a lot better than borrowing from an enemy.” And then she grew serious. “Stop being so wrapped up in yourself that you won't give anyone the pleasure of helping you. Damn your pride, Cruz.” She tried to second-guess what was on his mind. “What, are you afraid that if you borrow money from me, that makes you less of a man? Don't you realize that a real man is confident enough to allow his friends to help him when he needs it?” She wasn't getting through to him. “If
I
needed money, would you help me?”

It was a stupid question, on a lot of counts. “You know I would.”

“So why can't I help you?” His expression told her she knew why. Vanessa was not about to give up. “Is it because my name is Fortune and yours is Perez? I didn't take you to be the kind of man who allowed himself to be governed by prejudice.”

She'd hit him exactly where it hurt. “It's not prejudice.”

She crossed her arms again, looking at him knowingly. “Then what would you call it?”

He sighed, defeated. “Okay, maybe I'd call it prejudice.”

The smell of victory was beginning to overpower the smell of burned wood. “Ugly word.”

Cruz nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

“So it's settled?” She put out her hand to seal the bargain.

He took it tentatively, not shaking it yet. “How much interest?”

“The only payment I want over and above the funds I'm
lending you is for you and Savannah to get back together again.”

He laughed shortly. “Does your father know you're such a poor businesswoman?”

“I'm an excellent businesswoman, and if my father knew, he'd be cheering me on. Now, are the terms agreeable to you?”

Cruz inclined his head. “I'm willing.”

She detected a lack of enthusiasm. “No, you're not. You're willing to have Savannah walk back into the space she vacated. She wants more from you. And she deserves more from you. You know I'm right.”

His natural stubborn streak refused to allow him to agree. But all he'd lived with these last two weeks was his stubborn streak, and it was a hell of a less pleasing companion than Savannah had ever been. “Yeah, I do.”

“Okay, come back with me to my house and tell her that.” When he looked over his shoulder toward the corral, Vanessa cried, “Damn it, Cruz, she was serious about leaving you. When I left her she was calling a divorce lawyer.”

The news hit him like a two-by-four against his skull. “What?”

“You heard me. A divorce lawyer. She was crying at the time. Said that hanging around, hoping you'd come back to her, was killing her inside.”

He hated being the source of Savannah's pain. Hated, too, that it had taken someone else to make him see the light. “Okay, let me take care of a few things here and I'll follow you.”

“Cruz—”

“I swear, I'll be right behind you.”

She looked at him dubiously, then finally relented. “Seeing as you had a fire last night, I'll let you off the hook for now. I'll go home and tell Savannah to expect a penitent husband to be paying a call.”

He opened his mouth to protest the picture of him she'd just painted, then realized that it was a far more accurate one than anything he could have presented. “Yeah, you tell her that. And tell her I love her.”

“Tell her yourself.” Vanessa began heading back toward her car, then stopped. “I'll transfer the funds as soon as I get home.”

“You don't know my bank account number,” he protested.

“Neither do you, probably. Savannah can help me with that. And don't worry about the sum,” she said, anticipating his next words, since they hadn't settled on an amount. “It'll more than cover things. I promise.”

 

“Savannah, cancel the divorce lawyer,” Vanessa called out the moment she entered the house. “The mountain is coming to see the prophet.”

Her voice seemed to echo back to her. The house was eerily quiet.

Strange, she thought. Savannah was usually in the living room, pacing.

On a hunch, Vanessa went to check on Luke in the playroom, then in the entertainment room. Both were empty.

“Savannah, are you in your room?” Even as she called out the question, she hurried to check for herself.

The door was closed. As she approached, she thought he heard the sound of sobbing coming from inside the room. “Savannah, is everything all right?”

Of course it wasn't. Savannah thought she was getting a divorce. Vanessa jeered at her own stupidity. She didn't bother to knock, but opened the door. “Honey's, it's going to be all—”

She stopped dead.

It wasn't Savannah whom she'd heard crying. It was Luke.

The boy was on his knees on the floor, holding his mother's hand, pressing it against his small cheek. Savannah was unconscious.

There was blood on the rug beside her.

C
ruz meant to follow Vanessa within a few minutes, he really did.

But one thing came on the heels of another and he got caught up situating the horses. Temporary accommodations had been made, but he knew he was borrowing trouble, stabling two horses to a stall. Granted, it was summer and the animals could stay out, but he preferred keeping them indoors at night. This area wasn't without wolves and bobcats, not to mention rattlesnakes. He wanted no surprise night visitors for his horses.

Taking out his credit card, one of the first things he'd signed up for when he'd finally bought his own place, Cruz handed the card to Billy.

“I want you to go into town and get me enough lumber to board up the back of the stable.” It would be a temporary fix, until he could get Ike Cannon and his son, Russ,
to come out and give him an estimate. He could repair the place himself, but the way things were right now, it would mean doing without sleep for the next month.

A man could only do so much. There came a time when he had to let go a little. Cruz figured his time was at hand.

Taking off his hat, Billy scratched his head as he surveyed the damaged portion. “Gonna take a lot to rebuild that.”

“Yeah, I know. Right now I just want to put up some boards to keep the horses from getting out at night—or anything else from getting in. Now vamoose.” He did a quick calculation. Savannah couldn't turn him down after what had happened last night. She loved the ranch as much as he did. He'd make his case with her and bring her and Luke home within the hour. “I should be back by the time you return from town.”

But as he began to walk toward where the vehicles were parked, Billy called out, “What about Purdue? You want me to tell Hank to send him away when he comes?”

Cruz stopped in midstep.

“Damn, I forgot about Purdue. No, we can't afford to send him away.” Even as he spoke, he saw the man's black SUV in the distance.

Business before pleasure.

Not that he saw going at it with Savannah as pleasure. Funny how stubborn she seemed to have become lately, Cruz thought. Or was that streak always there and he hadn't noticed it before?

Taking out his cell phone, he was about to call Vanessa to make his apologies and ask her to explain the situation to Savannah. He didn't want to lose his wife, but if he allowed things to slide, he'd have no ranch to bring her home
to. No way to provide for her and their children. What kind of a life would that be? He needed to stay and talk with Purdue before the fickle rancher took his stud money and his influence elsewhere.

As Cruz flipped open the silver phone, it rang in his hand.

“Hey, that's a neat trick. How'd you do that?” Billy asked, peering over his shoulder at the cell phone.

Cruz waved a hand at him to be quiet as he pressed a button and placed the device to his ear. Even as he did so, he braced himself. He never got calls on the cell, unless they were from Savannah. But this one was from Vanessa, no doubt calling to get on his case, too.

“Look,” he immediately began, feeling defensive, “I got a little behind, but—”

“Well, you'd better get your behind here now.”

There was something in her voice that told him she wasn't just calling to upbraid him about being late. Something that made his gut tighten. “What's wrong?”

“I'm at the hospital.”

“Hospital?” Visions of Luke flying off the roof, the way he had already once attempted, flashed through Cruz's mind. That time, luckily, he'd seen what the boy was up to and had raced to catch him. He'd barely made it. But this time, he hadn't been there to catch his son. “What happened to Luke?”

“Nothing—”

“Nothing?” he interrupted. “Then why—”

She didn't let him finish framing his question. “It's Savannah.”

Cruz felt as if he'd just been kicked in the stomach by the same stallion whose fees he was about to negotiate. A
hundred possibilities crowded into his head, one thought being interrupted by the next until they were all jumbled in his head.

His mouth felt like cotton. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. “Why? What's happened to her?”

Vanessa had no real answer for that, at least not yet. She gave it her best guess.

“Cruz, it's the baby. I found Savannah on the floor in her room, unconscious. She was bleeding. I'm not sure—” Emotion choked off her words, making it impossible to finish.

Savannah was stronger than she looked, he told himself silently. Everyone thought Savannah was so frail, but she wasn't. He grasped that thought and hung on to it. “Is she conscious?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. He felt his gut shredding. “No.”

Fear tightened the bands around his heart several more degrees, making it almost impossible for him to breathe. “Which hospital?” She gave him the name. It was the same one he'd taken Hank to. “I'll be right there.”

Feeling like a man trapped inside a nightmare, he slipped the phone back into his breast pocket.

Even as Cruz turned toward the car, he saw Purdue walking toward him, a large, expansive smile on his face. When he reached him, the big man rubbed his hands together.

“I'm ready to make some babies, Perez. Long as the price is right.”

Cruz didn't want to send Purdue away. The man's ego was the kind that would cause him to take his business elsewhere if he felt the least bit slighted. And his business was
important to Cruz. It didn't represent just a single event. If Purdue was pleased with the stud, there were over a dozen other ranchers who tended to follow his lead, and that meant business would pick up just when he needed it most.

But he couldn't stand here and negotiate stud fees while his own wife lay unconscious at the hospital. He needed to be with her in case—

He needed to be with her, he amended, refusing to take the thought any further than that.

“I'm afraid there's been a slight change of plans, Mr. Purdue.”

Bushy eyebrows came together over a nose that had been broken twice before the man had reached the age of puberty. “Change of plans? Look, if you're trying to play hard to get, Perez, it's not going to work. Maximillian's got great lines, but he's not the only stallion in the stable. I can always—”

Cruz didn't have time to hear the man go on and on. “I'm not trying to play hard to get, Mr. Purdue. My wife's just been taken to the hospital. I'm on my way there now.” He made up his mind. “But I've got a man who can negotiate the fees with you.” Turning, he beckoned Hank over from the corral. “Hank!”

Hank's long legs brought him over quickly. “Yeah, Boss?”

Cruz put his arm confidently on Hank's shoulder. “Mr. Purdue, this is my foreman, Hank Jeffers. He knows everything I do about La Esperanza. Hank, I want you to negotiate Maximillian's stud fees for me. I've got to get to the hospital to see Savannah.”

Hank looked at Cruz uncertainly. Turning away from
the burly older rancher, he lowered his voice and asked, “When did I become foreman?”

“Two minutes ago. Now take care of this for me.” Cruz gave Purdue a forced smile, then hurried over to Billy, who was still standing by the truck, watching what was transpiring with the awe of a child. “Billy, give me the keys to your car. I want you to take my truck to get the lumber.”

The cowboy dug out his keys and handed the ring to Cruz, taking the keys to the pickup. Jumping into the cab, he was gone in a matter of seconds.

Cruz hardly remembered what he said to Purdue in parting. He knew he didn't give any extra advice to Hank, but he was pretty sure the young man would come through.

He was just going to have to trust Hank, he thought, pushing down hard on the gas pedal.

After he'd put a few miles between himself and the ranch, he realized his hands were shaking as he clutched the steering wheel. He also realized that he'd never, ever been so scared in his life. Not even when he'd gotten lost as a boy when he'd gone camping with his family. He'd spent the night huddled at the mouth of a cave, shivering and praying for daylight.

Now he was praying for something a whole lot more nebulous. Daylight always came. But the uncertainty of what he was facing, of what Savannah was facing, threatened to do him in. He had the feeling that he was praying for a miracle. But he didn't know how. Miracles didn't occur for people like him.

He didn't have Savannah's ability to think positively.

Savannah.

Damn it, why had he allowed all this to happen? Why hadn't he given her the time she deserved? She was the best
thing that had ever happened to him and he damn well knew it. From the first time he'd taken her in the stable, making love with her had felt like some kind of out-of-body experience. It had never felt like that with any other woman. Memories pushed forward, taking hold of him, making him feel what he'd felt then.

Like a high-speed train, those memories instantly carried him back over five years ago, until once again he was in the Double Crown stable.

In his memory he stood away from the stall, watching Savannah's face as he allowed her closer access to Hellfire. The golden quarter horse that had given him so much trouble in the beginning had won a special place in his heart and was now his personal favorite. Vanessa had presented Hellfire to him on his twenty-fifth birthday. He'd never had a gift, before or since, that he'd loved nearly half as much.

Cruz liked the reverent admiration he saw in Savannah's face when she looked at the animal. “Well, what do you think?” he asked her.

Murmuring words of endearment, Savannah gently ran her hand along the horse's muzzle, stroking it. “I think she's beautiful.”

Leaning against the stall, Cruz laughed. “It's a he, not a she. You can tell the difference by—”

Obviously flustered, she flushed with color and stepped away. She lowered her eyes and looked more closely at the horse.

“Yes,” she said quickly, making Cruz want to laugh, “I know exactly how to tell the difference. I was raised on a ranch.” His laughter brought a deepening color to her cheeks that he found fascinating. “Don't laugh at me.”

Guiding her away from Hellfire, Cruz drew her toward an empty stall. “Oh, but I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at how impossibly sweet and innocent you seem.”

Stung, she raised her chin in protest. “I'm not innocent.”

Because she denied it, he began to think that, just possibly, it wasn't an act. That she really
was
an innocent. His laughter melted into a wide, sensuous smile. “Oh, excuse me. But of course you're very worldly.”

She shrugged, looking away. “Well, all right, not very, but—”

He placed his hands on her shoulders, drawing her attention back to him and the moment. The protest died on her lips.

The wide smile was gone, replaced by a smaller, more intense one as he regarded her. She was easily one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. Beautiful and innocent. The combination was irresistible. With the tip of his finger, he toyed with a wisp of her hair that fell against her cheek.

“And as a worldly woman, you wouldn't be offended if I kissed you.”

“If you what?” she whispered.

He found the confusion in her eyes unexpectedly sweet, and arousing. His hands tightened ever so slightly on her shoulders as he brought her closer to him. “I prefer showing to talking.”

Cruz slipped his hands up along the sides of her throat until his fingers gently framed her face. He felt the excitement growing within him, vibrating with every beat of his heart.

Waiting.

Anticipating.

She melted against him the moment his lips touched hers, a snowflake unable to keep its shape when it was blown into the path of a sunbeam.

The moan that escaped her lips was the sound of surrender.

Hearing her, tasting the moan on his tongue, aroused Cruz to a fever pitch he'd never encountered before. It took effort to slow his progress.

He thrived on conquests, enjoyed giving the rich ladies what they wanted while they pretended not to—a wild tumble with the rough hired help. He enjoyed them even as he knew they were using him to supply a much sought-after thrill and a story to tell. That was where he derived his pleasure—from knowing exactly what they were, exactly what they were after. And he knew enough not to become emotionally entangled in what his body was doing.

But Savannah's kiss was oddly innocent for all the preconceived notions he had brought to this moment of seduction. So innocent that it made him pause for the slightest instant.

The next moment, there was something else in its place. Something that snatched him up even when he had no intention of being captured.

The same innocence that he'd wondered at had thrown a lariat over him, ensnaring him as easily as a fleeing colt. The questing wonder within Savannah's kiss, coupled with the growing hunger he detected, took him prisoner, so much so that he thought of resisting because of the overwhelming effect it brought in its wake. But then he gave up the notion, deciding to enjoy the moment.

Or he thought he decided.

If he were being honest with himself, he would have ad
mitted that the decision had been taken out of his hands the moment he felt her soft body molding itself against him. It had been made for him by some outside force that took unending pleasure in watching him get captured in the very trap he laid for others.

Seeking refuge in the lie that he was only taking a busman's holiday, Cruz abandoned all pretense of remaining detached, and allowed himself to be engulfed by the sensations that were already running rampant through him.

He deepened the kiss, assaulting her mouth again and again. With each pass he wanted more rather than less. Savannah shivered once as he tugged at the zipper that ran the length of her back. Drawing it all the way down, he felt the dress fall from her body, and then saw by the look in her eyes that he had won her.