A Baby Changes Everything (3 page)

“No, I won't,” she countered. “The only thing that will make me feel better is knowing that you're still in love with me.”

And she had grave doubts about that. Doubts that her giving in to her heart and marrying Cruz had been the right thing to do, after all.

Maybe she had made a mistake.

She'd held out in the beginning because she hadn't wanted what her parents had had. Theirs was a marriage forged by guilt, held together by desperation, and eventually disintegrated by mutual loathing. All because they'd set out to “do the right thing” in the beginning. Her mother had been pregnant with her when she and her father had gotten married, and not a day went by in her childhood that they allowed her to forget it. To forget that she was the reason for their misery.

She had grown up feeling responsible for generating the unhappiness of not just one person, but two. She'd also grown up vowing that when it was her turn, she was not going to marry for any other reason than love.

Everlasting love.

And when she'd looked into Cruz's ruggedly handsome face, that was exactly what she'd felt. She'd known that she was always going to love him all the days of her life, no matter what.

But as far as being assured that he would feel the same…well, that had taken some convincing on his part. But he'd worn her down, making her believe that he truly wanted her, not because it was the honorable thing to do, but because he loved her.

Maybe he was a better actor than she'd given him credit for.

Or maybe she'd just talked herself into it. After all, if Cruz did love her, would he be using the ranch as an excuse to be away from her except for a few hours a day? Would he be so caught up in his horses that he didn't have any time to spare for her or the child he'd given his name to?

Cruz had been extremely fussy when it came to hiring men to work on his ranch. Right now they had three very capable hands, two who lived on the property in a mobile trailer Cruz's parents had given them. Men he'd told her he relied on.

So why wasn't he delegating any responsibility to them? Why did he have to be personally involved in every single tiny aspect of running the ranch? He was so completely hands-on. From the feeding and handling of the horses right down to the maintenance of the fences that kept his herd of twenty-five within the five-hundred-acre ranch, he was there for everything.

First one up, last one down.

It was as if he had something to prove. Over and over again, every day. As if he was the last man hired instead of the one who handed out the paychecks.

Despite the summer heat, which was still stifling in the early-morning hours, Savannah poured hot water over the
tea bag she'd plunked into her cup. Maybe tea would help soothe her stomach, although she didn't hold out much hope.

She took the cup back to the table, hoping to pull herself together before Luke bounced out of bed.

Clutching the cup with both hands, she brought it to her lips and blew before taking the smallest sip and letting the liquid wind down into her stomach.

Granted, she'd known when she married Cruz that he would never be a gentleman rancher. That he wouldn't be just marginally involved in the day-to-day activities but would plunge into them, full steam ahead. That was what she loved about him—that he could get involved with something wholeheartedly.

She just never thought that it would ultimately be to the exclusion of her and their child.

Cruz had been a horse whisperer when she'd first met him, a man who had an almost uncanny affinity for the animals he trained. He could take a horse with a broken spirit, a horse that seemed infused with the very devil himself, and somehow find a way to reach the animal. To form a bond and communicate with it until that animal had completely transformed into a horse that could be trained, managed. A horse that any owner would be proud to have.

First Cruz would breach the chasm, then became one with the horse, and the horse would become one with him. It was a thing of beauty to watch.

But now it seemed that he had thrown her over for the horses.

The horses and everything that went with them. The care, the cleaning, the feeding and the mucking out of the stalls, every aspect of the animals' lives came before sharing time with his family.

And she hadn't a clue how to change that.

Savannah felt tears stinging her eyes. How had she lost him?

Why didn't he love her as he used to?

She thought of the tiny moment they'd shared just before he'd left. The old Cruz was still in there somewhere. She just needed to find a way to bring him out again.

To have him want her again.

Savannah glanced at her reflection in the darkened window just above the sink as the first rays of dawn began to materialize along the horizon. She turned sideways, critically studying herself. Her body wasn't misshapen yet.

Maybe she could seduce him.

A hopeful smile curved her lips. The idea had merit.

T
he second Savannah finished making the last of the new entries into the computer program she used to track La Esperanza's expenses, she saved the data and turned off her computer.

Closing the laptop, she turned toward her son, who was still very enamored with the action figures Vanessa had given him yesterday. Both monster and monster eradicator were making awful noises, courtesy of Luke. Any other time it might have been enough to get a bad headache rolling in Savannah's skull.

But not today. She had a plan to get rolling instead. And a marriage to get back on track.

Glancing at Luke, she saw that he was perched on top of the sofa, a figure in each hand. Obviously the fantasy he was acting out had taken the two characters and their orchestrator up to the top of some mountain.

“You know the rules, Luke,” she called out to him. “No flying off the sofa.”

Clutching his figures to him, he pushed out his bottom lip. “Aw, Mama.”

She gave him her best no-nonsense look. “No ‘aw, Mama.' Down, mister.”

Luke scooted his bottom down along the upholstery, then scrambled off the cushion. Before she could blink, he was on the floor, using the massive coffee table as a new battlefield.

Satisfied that Luke was safe for a nanosecond, she picked up the receiver and dialed Rosita's home phone. Her mother-in-law was always her first choice when it came to Luke. The woman and her husband doted on the boy. If, by some wild chance, Rosita and Ruben were busy tonight, she knew she could always fall back on any one of her four sisters-in-law, or Vanessa, for that matter. Luke felt equally comfortable with all of them.

Tonight, Savannah decided, her firstborn was going to be sleeping in a bed other than his own. And she was going to reclaim what was rightfully hers.

Theirs, she amended, as she listened to the phone on the other end ringing. Because Cruz had been happy once, too. Happy making love with her. Happy with just loving her, the way she did him.

All married couples went through doldrums, Savannah told herself as she silently counted off the number of times the phone rang. Discord was only natural. It was up to her to see that they carved out a little island of time for themselves, recharged their batteries, so to speak.

It wasn't that she had less to do than Cruz. In her own way, she firmly believed that she had just as much if not
more to do than the man she'd promised to give her love to for all eternity. He had the ranch to run, she had everything else to run. The house, the books, their son and any emergency that might come up.

But then, women were far more resilient than their male counterparts and capable of multitasking on top of that. Ordinarily she was that way herself, when she wasn't pregnant. Lately, though, she kept flagging, as if she couldn't hang on to her energy for more than a few minutes at a time.

She didn't remember being this exhausted when she was carrying Luke.

The phone on the other end was finally picked up. She straightened, eager to set her plan in motion.

“Hello, Mama?” The woman had insisted that she call her Mama after the wedding, and in truth, Savannah felt closer to Rosita than she ever had to her own mother. The name rolled easily from her tongue.

“Savannah?” There was immediate concern in the other woman's voice. “What's wrong?”

Savannah did her best to sound as cheerful as possible. Anything less and Rosita would be over in a flash, thinking the worst. It was Rosita's belief that she had far too much happiness in her life, and she was always anticipating a reversal.

“Nothing's wrong, Mama. I was just wondering if you'd mind taking your grandson for the night?”

“You know I'd love to have Luke over here anytime, but why tonight? Are you two going somewhere?”

To paradise, I hope.
Savannah gauged her words carefully, not sure just how much Cruz would appreciate her telling her mother-in-law. He was very proud and this
might offend his sense of independence. “Cruz has been working very hard lately—”

She could almost see Rosita nodding her dark head in agreement. “Takes a lot to run a ranch.”

“Yes, I know, he said the same thing.” Savannah suppressed the sigh that tried to rise to her lips. “But he's forgotten how to unwind.”

“Unwind?”

The woman was probably unfamiliar with the term. “To relax. To enjoy himself.” Savannah paused. Then, because she liked the woman and because she had a feeling that Rosita would guess anyway, she added, “To be a husband again.”

Rosita caught on immediately, as Savannah knew she would. “Ah, I see. Of course. I can have Ruben come by and pick the boy up now if you'd like. It would give me extra time with my beautiful grandson—and you extra time to do whatever it is you need to do to help Cruz…unwind.”

Savannah didn't want to seem as if she was eager to ship her son off, but in reality, Rosita had a good point. She'd get twice as much done without having Luke in tow. “Well…”

“Consider it done,” Rosita said, taking the decision out of her daughter-in-law's hands. “Ruben will be there in less than half an hour. Have Luke and his favorite toys ready. And, Savannah?”

“Yes?”

“Good luck.”

“Thank you.” She didn't bother commenting that if she had to rely on luck to make Cruz come around, then her marriage really was in serious trouble.

 

Cruz was well pleased.

The four quarter horses he'd arranged to buy looked even better walking off the back of the transport than they had when he had first seen them running free on Eric Tyler's ranch. All four were fine specimens of their breed. And intelligent.

He could tell that the horses he'd picked were intelligent just by moving among them, the way he was now. He was getting a bead on them and they were getting one on him. He liked that.

Nothing worse than a dumb animal, he thought, at least for what he had in mind. He trained quarter horses to become cutting horses, animals specifically intended to herd cattle. A good horse could even prevent a stampede from getting under way, separating one frightened steer from the others before the mindless pounding of hooves and the surge of escape began.

Not that he couldn't handle an animal blessed with less than the intelligence he saw on display today. Very slowly, he wound a lariat around his arm as he eyed the newest additions to his herd.

He had a way of communicating with horses that at times surprised even him. Had he been one of the Plains Indians, he might have said he was bonding with his brothers. But no such thought crossed Cruz's mind when he walked into the small, tight corral to transform yet another horse from a skittish, rebellious animal to one that was willing to work for its master. To bring the fruit of its abilities to the man or woman who fed and cared for him or her.

However, something happened when Cruz was alone
with a horse, something he could not explain. Something that almost allowed him to form a spiritual bond with the creature, to feel what the horse was feeling, to understand what caused its distrust or its pain.

When he had worked for the Double Crown, he had been given the toughest horses to break. Horses that had long since been given up on were brought to him in hopes that he could turn them around.

He'd never had a single failure. Sometime it took weeks, even months, but the object was not to rush, rather to succeed.

That was when he'd had the luxury of working for someone else, however. Now that he was his own master, now that what he accomplished put food on his table and clothes on the backs of his family, it was a slightly different matter. There was an urgency inside of him, an urgency to succeed, to build up the ranch, as well as his reputation. To have the kind of things he had always dreamed about having, not because he wanted them—he couldn't care less about fancy cars or pricey clothing—but because those outer trappings meant that he, Cruz Perez, was a success.

A man to respect.

A man who could not only compete in a world populated by the likes of the Fortunes, but could also carve out a sizable place for himself.

That took dedication and work, tireless work. Not an easy matter when he was far from tireless. Especially when he walked into the house and heard recriminations thrown his way. Or when he saw the disappointment in Savannah's eyes.

She never seemed happy anymore when he did have a moment to spend with her. That meant he was failing her somehow. More than anything else, he didn't like failing.

A fifth horse was being led off the transport. The hand was having a difficult time bringing him over to the corral. This was the horse that Tyler had thrown in for a song.

“You'll be doing me a favor taking it off my hands,” Eric Tyler had told him. Tugging off his hat, the older man had scratched his thinning hair and shaken his head. “I purely don't know what to do with him.”

Even though he'd seen the other four as a sound investment of his time and money, Cruz had been drawn to the last animal immediately.

There was something about the black horse, an air that separated him from the others. There was the same amount of intelligence in its eyes as the other four—more, really—but also something else. A wariness coupled with fire.

He seemed almost human.

This one, Cruz had thought, watching as several of Tyler's hands scattered after trying to herd the horse into a smaller corral, was a prize. A warrior.

Turning him into a working cutting horse wouldn't be easy.

But Cruz loved a challenge.

“What's his name?” he had asked, approaching the corral.

“Diablo,” Tyler had told him.

Diablo. The devil. It fit.

Inside the corral now, Diablo shook his proud head, his deep brown eyes locking with Cruz's across the length of the field. Cruz found himself smiling.

“You think you'll come out on top, don't you?” he murmured almost to himself. “You're in for a surprise, my friend.”

But taming and training Diablo was going to take time, and right now he needed to get busy with the four he'd purchased. He had a contract with the Flying W to turn over four fully trained cutting horses by the end of the month. That meant focusing his day a little differently, but it could be done.

The July sun beat down mercilessly.

Cruz could feel the line of sweat forming around the rim of his worn Stetson. Taking it off, he wiped his brow, then set the hat back on his head as his eyes swept over the field. One of his hands was still in the stables, mucking the stalls out before spreading a fresh layer of straw. The other two were caring for the horses that had been led into the corral. Horses needed to be washed down, especially in this heat.

Two of his mares were expecting. One had given birth to a dead colt last year. He hoped that her luck would be better this time around. There wasn't anything to do but wait and see.

A thousand details to keep tabs on.

He thought about what Savannah had said about Hank. That he should consider making the wrangler a foreman. That he should give serious thought to entrusting others with more responsibility rather than shouldering it all himself. It would make life easier, he thought. But it was just that he did everything better than anyone.

It wasn't vanity that prompted his feelings, it was training and ability. He'd been a cowboy all of his life, and he knew exactly what it took to run a ranch. He'd waited all his life for the chance.

And here it was.

Still, he knew damn well that he couldn't be everywhere at once. When it came to the daily chores, he fig
ured he'd be safe enough assigning those to the others without having to stand over them to make sure everything was taken care of. Feeding, bathing, exercising the horses and cleaning out their stalls took time. Cruz made up his mind to allow the others to take care of those details.

But training the horses, putting them through their paces until he was satisfied that they were the best they could be, was another matter entirely. Training horses was careful, almost artistic work. That was his domain.

Still, he had to start letting go somewhere, he thought. Going into Red Rock was on his agenda today, but he couldn't do that and get the horses comfortable around him at the same time. He looked toward where a tall, rail-thin cowboy with bright red hair stood talking to another hand. Catching the redhead's eye, he waved the man over.

“Hank, we need some more horse liniment and I'm going to have to buy saddles for these four. Why don't you take one of the boys and go into Red Rock and pick them up for me?” He took the ranch credit card out of his wallet and handed it to Hank. “And while you're at it, we're running low on feed.”

“Yes, I know.” Taking off his hat, Hank ran a hand through his hair. He looked at his boss a little uncertainly, as if he wasn't sure he'd heard him correctly. It was a known fact that Cruz, although a fair man, was a control freak. “You want me to pick out the saddles?”

Cruz took Hank's hesitant look to mean that he wasn't up to the task. But since he'd asked him to handle it, he couldn't very well back off. “Why? Don't you feel you can?”

“Well, hell, yeah, they're only saddles.” He looked at Cruz curiously. “But you always wanted to do it before.”

Cruz blew out a breath. This letting go wasn't going to
be easy, no matter what Savannah thought. She was clearly the smarter one, he'd give her that, but he was the one who knew what it took to operate a ranch. Still, he supposed he owed it to her to give this some kind of trial run.

“I'm delegating.” The word felt like hardened peanut brittle in his mouth. “Something my wife keeps telling me I should do.”

Hank nodded his head, no doubt pleased with the idea. A grin curved his mouth. “Well, seeing as how you're ‘delegating' stuff, I could help you with the training.” He nodded toward the corral, where all five horses stood, four in relatively close proximity and Diablo over to the side.