A Baby Changes Everything (6 page)

“Some of the people who work for him say he's been acting preoccupied lately. Distant.”

Vanessa lifted her head, a tigress ready to defend her cub.

“My father is in charge of a great many things. At times, it's hard keeping everything straight. Especially when you want to give a hundred and ten percent of yourself in all aspects.” She looked at Gabe to back her up, since in her judgment he'd be more acquainted with Ryan Fortune's dealings than the aloof Matthews. “If he's guilty of anything, it's working too hard and being too generous.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Andrea. “I can supply you with a list of charity foundations he either heads or is on the board of, if you like.”

“That won't be necessary,” the detective told her tersely. “We're not looking for contributions, only answers.”

Taking a cue from the words, Vanessa drew herself up. “Do you have anything specific to ask me, Detective Matthews?”

“No.” Gabe cut in before Andrea could answer. Right now, they were merely on a fishing trip, trying to get a feel for things. They were still looking into reports filed on missing persons and if any of those had unusual birth-
marks. It wouldn't do to demand a verification of the town's richest and most well-respected man's whereabouts and dealings for the last two months.

Andrea glared at him, but made no contradiction. That surprised him.

“All right, Gabe.” Vanessa deliberately ignored the other woman in the room. “Why don't you get back to me when you do? Until then…”

Gabe knew Andrea was annoyed by the snub. Stepping closer to Vanessa, she took out a four-by-five photograph of the corpse. There wasn't much to recognize, but the birthmark that had been discovered above the man's right buttock had been digitally enhanced. She held it up for Vanessa to view. “Do you recognize this birthmark?”

Vanessa had no desire to look at a body that had been submerged until hardly anything of him had been left to recognize. As she struggled with her anger, her eyes locked with Andrea's.

“You already have the answer to that or you wouldn't be here in my house, asking not too subtle questions about my father. Do I have a missing relative who had one of those birthmarks? No. Do I have an idea who this person is? Again, no. And it goes without saying that I wouldn't know who would want to kill him.” She spared a glance toward Gabe. “Or if he even was killed. Maybe he fell off a boat somewhere, drowned and wound up washing ashore here.” To her, it was as good a theory as any.

“He might have fallen off a boat,” Andrea informed her tersely, putting the photograph away again, “but he didn't drown. He was shot first.”

Vanessa had had just about enough of this. “My father
doesn't shoot people. My family doesn't shoot people—even when we're sorely tempted.”

“Vanessa.” There was a warning note in Gabe's stern voice.

She flashed him a tight smile. “Sorry, I'm not at my best with veiled accusations of murder thrown at the people I love.” Her hand tightened around the keys she'd never put away. “Now if you'll excuse me, I was, as you so expertly noticed—” she aimed the words at Andrea “—on my way out when you rang the doorbell.”

After a moment the woman turned and walked to the front door. But Gabe hung back a few steps. His eyes met Vanessa's.

“I'm just doing my job,” he told her.

“I know.” Opening the door, she allowed the detective out and watched her as she walked across the driveway to their car. “Too bad you can't get to pick your helpers in this case.”

She saw a hint of a smile on Gabe's otherwise stoic features. It was easy to see that he didn't disagree with her.

 

Less than half an hour later, Vanessa brought her car to a halt in front of Savannah and Cruz's house. She was still stewing about Gabe and Andrea's visit as she got out. How could they possibly think her father had anything to do with the dead man? As straight as an arrow, he'd be the first one at the sheriff's office if he even remotely knew anything. Not only that, but he'd call a family meeting to inform them.

Since no such meeting had been called, she was confident that it was just some freak accident of nature that someone bearing the same birthmark as her father had washed up on their shores.

Truth was always stranger than fiction, right?

Raising her hand to knock on the front door, she heard a crash and a scream. Both came from inside the house.

Not standing on ceremony, Vanessa quickly turned the knob, opening the door. Her heart was in her throat as she surveyed the living room.

Her eyes riveted directly on Luke. Her godson had a frayed beige towel tucked into the back neckline of his shirt, like a cape. His feet were on the floor and his body was surrounded by a coffee table. The one that had, until five seconds ago, a glass top.

He appeared unharmed and definitely not as upset as his mother. It was obvious that he had gone through the table while executing some complicated flying maneuver in his alter ego as a superhero.

Savannah looked as if she was about to break into as many pieces as there were glass shards on the floor.

Rushing in, Vanessa pulled out her cell phone. “Do you want me to call for the paramedics?”

“Aunt 'Nessa!” Luke exclaimed with glee, apparently completely unmindful of what he'd just done and how close he'd come to slicing himself open in over a dozen places. The boy started to turn toward her.

Savannah grabbed his shoulders, holding him in place. “Stay still,” she ordered. One wrong move on his part and his legs would wind up being lacerated from all sides.

Her heart pounding in her chest, Savannah took a quick inventory of the situation. As fantastic as it seemed, it looked as if, so far, Luke was completely unscathed by his newest adventure. She sighed. She needed eyes in the back of her head with this boy.

Vanessa had rushed to the child's side. “Listen to your
mother, Luke, and keep very still.” Biting her lower lip, she looked at Savannah, almost afraid to ask. “How bad is it?”

“The kid has a charmed life,” Savannah said. “I don't see any cuts.” Unable to remain inert for more than the count of two, Luke began to move again. “Stay perfectly still, Luke,” she repeated, then added, “like a statue,” for good measure.

His dark eyes were dancing. “What kind of statue, Mama?”

“The kind that doesn't move,” she told him, barely managing not to snap at him. Her nerves were far more frayed than the edges of the towel her son had appropriated for his makeshift costume. Very carefully, she removed the remaining shards of glass from the coffee table top.

In an attempt to keep Luke's attention from what Savannah was doing, Vanessa told him, “I'm going to take you to the movies.”

“The movies?” the boy cried excitedly.

“But only if you listen to your mother and don't move,” Vanessa cautioned, afraid he was going to start wiggling again. “She needs to get you out of there.”

“I'm Super Jake.” His small fisted hand thumped against his equally small chest. “I can get myself out.”

“Not without a lot of blood,” Savannah warned, removing another piece of glass and placing it on top of the book she was using to collect all the shards.

He tossed his head the way Vanessa had often seen Savannah do. “Doesn't scare me.”

“Sure scares me,” Vanessa told him as she kept one eye on the boy and one on Savannah and the progress she was making.

A magnanimous look came over the boy's features. “Okay. For you, Aunt 'Nessa, I'll stay still.”

“Done,” Savannah finally said several minutes later, putting the last piece of glass on top of the pile she'd collected. There was now a glaring hole where the top of her coffee table had once been.

Vanessa closed her arms around the boy and lifted him up, careful to avoid touching what was left of the jagged sides.

Ticklish, he laughed and hugged her.

Once she was certain that her son wasn't bleeding, Savannah collapsed on the sofa. “Remind me never to go through that again.”

“Okay, Mama,” Luke said innocently. So innocently that all she could do was laugh.

“You don't have to take him, you know,” she said to Vanessa.

“Sure I do. That's why I came over. That and to ask you to a wedding.”

Savannah sat up. “Whose?”

“My cousin Steve's. He's marrying Amy Burke-Sinclair in the fall. I wanted to give you a heads-up and tell you that, naturally, you and Cruz are invited.”

Luke turned up his face toward her like a sunflower tracking the sun. “How about me?”

Vanessa pretended to think the question over. “Only if you promise not to leap into the wedding cake—or anything else, for that matter.”

Laughing, Luke hugged her. “I promise.”

A wedding, Savannah thought, utterly drained. Something to look forward to. If she was still married to Cruz come the fall.

A
fter getting him a change of clothing and carefully examining Luke one last time, Savannah allowed her son to go play a video game in the family room.

Coming back into the living room, she saw that Vanessa had already collected the larger pieces of glass from the floor and was now taking the vacuum cleaner from the hall closet to give the area a thorough once-over.

They didn't make any better friends than that, Savannah thought as she put her hand over Vanessa's and took the vacuum cleaner with a smile. “I'll do that.”

Vanessa glanced toward the other room. “Luke's okay?”

“Like it never happened.”

The resiliency of her son never ceased to amaze Savannah. She used to be like that, she thought. Until life had conspired to overwhelm her. Taking a deep breath, she gave the entire area a slow, thorough vacuuming.

As she turned off the machine, she felt a new surge of energy come from nowhere. Savannah used it to give her the wherewithal to make a decision. Life was not going to overwhelm her. She was going to overwhelm it. Or die in the process.

“I'd love to come,” Savannah suddenly said to Vanessa as she gathered up the cord and tucked it around the machine. “To the wedding,” she clarified when her friend looked at her quizzically.

Vanessa opened the closet door so Savannah could return the vacuum to its place. “You, singular, not you, plural?”

She glanced toward the next room to see if Luke was listening, but the boy was completely captivated by the video game he was playing. She hoped that lasted more than ten minutes.

“These days, I really don't feel that I can speak for Cruz.”

Closing the closet door, Vanessa followed Savannah back into the living room. “Want to talk about it?”

Savannah thought about last night and how disappointed she'd felt when she'd walked out of the bathroom and found Cruz sound asleep.

“No, it'll only depress me.” She bit her lip, torn between loyalty to her husband and the need to talk to someone she knew and trusted. Someone who would be sympathetic. “But I really feel as if the fairy tale was just that, a fairy tale.” A rueful smile curved her mouth. “I'm beginning to understand why the stories always end after the prince and princess get together. If it followed them beyond that vague ‘and they lived happily ever after,' if it
showed
you how they lived, then everybody would really be disappointed.”

Vanessa tried to read between the lines. She and Devin had been married a little longer than Savannah and Cruz. She knew the dangers of complacency, of having a routine slowly turn into a rut. “You need to shake things up.”

Savannah laughed softly, shaking her head. “I've thought about shaking him…” And then she stopped, realizing that Vanessa might get an unfair picture of the way Cruz was. It wasn't as if he was doing this to spite her. She knew he was doing the best he could. They were both stuck on this insane merry-go-round that life had flung them onto. She just had no idea how to slow things down. “But how can I really fault him? He's working hard at trying to make the ranch into something. It's not as if he's out all hours of the night with other women.”

Vanessa was quick to agree. “You've got a good guy, Savannah.”

Savannah smiled. She supposed that was what she liked best about Vanessa. Her friend didn't take sides, wasn't critical of Cruz; she just listened. “I know.” She sighed, dragging her hand through her hair in a helpless gesture. “Just not an attentive one.”

Luke squealed in the background and Vanessa glanced toward the boy. Just keeping after him was a full-time job. Even when you loved a child, that could be extremely wearing.

“He might be attentive if you got him away from all the distractions.”

Her own attention taken up by Luke, Savannah looked at her quizzically. “What do you mean?”

Vanessa smiled, leaning toward her friend as if she was imparting some age-old, well-kept secret. “Get away.”

As if it was that easy. “We don't have the time or money for a vacation right now.”

And by the time they could take one, who knew if they'd even be on speaking terms? she thought. Things just kept escalating between them every time she tried to fix them.

Vanessa was shaking her own head. “I'm not talking about a two-week vacation, Savannah, I'm talking about taking a couple of days. Go someplace for the weekend. The two of you never really had that much time alone. Luke was born after you were married for three months. You two deserve some alone time.” She glanced to where Luke was cheering his victory over two racers. “I can take Luke. He thinks that Devin's a great guy and it lets Devin practice his parenting skills. It'd be a treat for everyone all around. C'mon, say yes.”

Vanessa made it sound as if it would be a treat for her, Savannah thought, instead of for Cruz and herself. Still, as much as she wanted to, Savannah knew she couldn't automatically agree. “I can't say yes for Cruz.”

He friend slipped her arm around her shoulders. “No, but you can make him want to say yes. Look, I knew Cruz before you did. I know what a so-called ‘bad boy' he was. He had women trailing after him wherever he went. I can remember one actually hiring him to help her with her horse. He did it after hours.” An amused smile curved Vanessa's lips. “Did her after hours, too, most likely. She made no bones about the fact that she lusted after his fine Latin hide.”

Savannah could well understand women being attracted to Cruz. She could also understand what being viewed as nothing more than just a stud rather than a complete per
son could do to Cruz's self-esteem. Maybe that was why he worked so hard at making the ranch a success.

“That's awful.”

“Yes, it's awful,” Vanessa readily agreed. “I think even though he was flattered and enjoyed himself, he resented it a little. Maybe more than a little.” And then she confirmed what Savannah had suspected. “To the women who wanted him, Cruz was hardly more than a handsome trophy, a prize they wanted to snag for the thrill of it.” She looked at Savannah pointedly. “He took what they offered and had a good time. I didn't think he was ever going to settle down and get married. Why do you think Rosita adores you so much?”

Savannah shrugged. She'd never given it much thought. “Because I love her son?”

Vanessa smiled at her friend's sweet naiveté. “Because you
changed
her son. Changed him from a swaggering Romeo to a decent man his family could be proud of. They loved him before you came along, but they only
liked
him after you came into his life. You worked a miracle with that man, Savannah. Whether you know it or not, it was nothing short of a miracle.”

An amused smile played on Savannah's lips. As far as she was concerned, no miracles had transpired. Once he knew the child she was carrying was his, Cruz had worked hard at convincing her to marry him. She hadn't done anything except love him. “Aren't you exaggerating just a little?”

Vanessa's right eyebrow rose a little higher as she looked at her friend. “Am I? He changed the way he was because he loved you. Gave up his loose, tomcat ways to make himself into a man you could love.”

He didn't have to change for that to happen. “I loved him the first minute I saw him.”

Vanessa held up her finger, making her point. “But he didn't know that. I think that all Cruz really knew about was the physical side of love, the red-hot attraction that takes place. And he was living proof that that kind of thing doesn't last, not on its own. He wanted what was between the two of you to last.”

She looked at Savannah intently. She just
knew
her friend's marriage could be salvaged—and made stronger for the test.

“Work with that, Savannah. Make Cruz remember why he's laboring so hard out there from sunup to sundown—”

“Longer,” Savannah interjected.

“Okay, longer.” She could see the hesitation in Savannah's eyes, as if this was a last-ditch effort and if it didn't work, then nothing would. As long as she could cling to it, as long as she had this to still turn to, then she had hope. If this failed, there'd be nothing left to hang on to. “If you ask him to go, he won't say no.”

Savannah laughed. “He says no to me in a million ways now.”

“Silently,” Vanessa pointed out. “I guarantee that if you put it to him, if you tell him how much this weekend getaway means to you, that you want to reaffirm your feelings for each other without any demands on your time but each other, he won't turn you down.”

Savannah chewed on her lower lip. Vanessa sounded a great deal more certain about the matter than she felt. “You're that sure?”

“I'm that sure. Like I said, I was there in the very beginning. I got to see the difference in Cruz, you didn't.” It had done her heart good to see Cruz fall in love the way he had. Aside from a three-week crush she'd had on him
as an adolescent, she'd always regarded him as a brother. “That man would walk on hot coals for you.”

“I don't want him to walk on hot coals. I just want him to make hot love to me.”

“Even better.” Vanessa laughed, giving her a hug. “That's my girl.”

The idea began to take on depth and breadth. Savannah did a quick mental inventory of their closets. She looked at Vanessa ruefully. Of the two of them, Vanessa had been the one who had gone places, seen things. She had always been strictly a homebody. “I'm not even sure where our suitcases are.”

Vanessa looked at her innocently. “What do you need suitcases for?”

“The hotel might not like us bringing our clothes in grocery bags.”

“What do you need clothes for?” Vanessa countered. Unable to suppress it any longer, she grinned broadly. “Spend the weekend naked.”

Savannah glanced over to see if Luke was listening, but the boy was still playing the video game and mercifully oblivious to his surroundings.

Savannah lowered her voice. “I couldn't—”

“Yes, you could,” Vanessa insisted. “And that's what this is all about. Being with each other. Clothing shouldn't be optional, it should be banned.” She underscored her statement with a wink. “Trust me.”

As Savannah thought about it, the idea began to take on merit. After all, this was probably going to be the last time they would be alone together. It wouldn't be long before their family would swell to four.

“He'll wonder what's come over me,” she said, although she wasn't really protesting very much.

Vanessa squeezed her hand. “And he'll be thrilled to death.” She gave her friend's form a quick once-over. “Five months pregnant and there isn't an ounce of extra fat on you. You're just as beautiful as the first time Cruz saw you. Use that, Savannah. Use it to your advantage.”

Savannah glanced down at herself. Other than trying to look neat and not haggard, she hadn't given her appearance all that much thought lately, except for last night, of course. Maybe that was part of the problem. “You think?”

Vanessa nodded. “I think.”

A warmth began to travel through Savannah as she envisioned herself alone with her husband. As she envisioned the two of them the way they once were, before the world and Cruz's goals intruded. “I'm getting excited.”

Vanessa laughed. “Well, don't do it with me. Save it for Cruz.”

Overwhelmed with gratitude and with her hope renewed, Savannah threw her arms around her friend. “You're the best, Vanessa.”

Vanessa returned the embrace, happy to have brought a smile back to Savannah's face. “That's what I keep telling Devin.”

Luke chose that moment to make it a group hug. “Me, too!” he announced loudly, bouncing onto the sofa next to his mother.

“Yes,” Savannah laughed, dragging him onto her lap, “you, too.”

She gave him a huge heartfelt hug. Things, she prom
ised herself, were going to work out. She was in love with her baby's father and he was a good man. How could they not work out?

 

Instead of flying by on its magic carpet the way every day seemed to lately, the day felt as if it was comprised of endless minutes knitting themselves into endless hours. She could have sworn that she'd been waiting for Cruz to come home forever.

Savannah knew exactly where he was. At the corral, training the new horses. He was at the point where he would separate one from the others, taking it aside for intensified sessions. She didn't have to saddle up to reach him, just walk a ways.

But she knew how he was when he was working. It required all of his concentration. He wouldn't be in the best of moods if she interrupted and asked him to call it a night. Barring some sort of emergency, that was his decision to make, not hers.

Doing the right thing could get taxing at times, she thought, fighting back frustration as she stared at the front door and willed it to open.

When Cruz finally did walk into the house, it was close to eight. The sun was receding, taking daylight with it and leaving the land to slumber for a short while.

The familiar sound of his boots outside the front door as he stomped off the dirt had her hurrying to admit him.

Cruz looked surprised to have her opening the door for him. “Such service,” he murmured affectionately as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

The sigh he released died abruptly as he saw the coffee table. Stunned, he stared at it for a moment. The table had
been an indulgence, since it required constant upkeep. Savannah was forever cleaning fingerprints off it. Even so, he knew how much she loved it.

The glass had all been cleared away, but there was no ignoring the large gaping hole where it had once been.

He looked at her over his shoulder. “That's a new look,” he commented dryly. “What happened?”

“Luke discovered he couldn't fly.” She saw Cruz's eyebrows raise in silent query for more information. “He tried to take off from the sofa.”