Expecting...in Texas (16 page)

“See, that’s what I mean.” She gestured to underscore her point. “You talk to him. Most women aren’t interested in what he has between his ears—not that there’s much,” Maggie tacked on with a mischievous smile. “They’re more interest in what he has between the pockets of his tight jeans.” She bit back a laugh at the surprised look on Savannah’s face. “What they don’t think of him as is a person. But you do.”

Above Travis’s protest, Maggie shifted him from Savannah’s lap to the floor. “Play with your toy now, honey. Savannah and I have to talk.”

“Sounds ominous,” Savannah commented.

Maggie moved closer to Savannah, lowering her voice so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Why
did
you turn Cruz down when he asked you to marry him?”

“Because he asked me out of a sense of duty and honor.”

Maggie looked puzzled. “From what I hear, those are very good traits.”

They would be, if they were in addition to the
all-important one: Love. “For a boy scout, maybe. I’m not a merit badge.”

Savannah debated saying anything further. But Maggie had befriended her, and she seemed genuinely interested in her happiness. So Savannah tried to make her understand her position. “If a man asks to marry me, I want to know it’s because he loves me. Because he can’t face a day without me. Not because his sister or his conscience tell him it’s the right thing.” She saw Maggie begin to protest, and cut her off. “I want his heart to tell him it’s the right thing.”

“And if his heart did all this talking,” Maggie hypothesized, “then you’d say yes?”

It was on the tip of Savannah’s tongue to say yes, but she couldn’t. There was more in the way than just that. “Maybe.”

Maggie’s brows drew together. “Only maybe?”

Savannah rose and began to pace. “There’s another problem. Cruz wants a horse ranch of his own.” She knew she wasn’t saying anything that Maggie didn’t know. He’d probably shared this with his family long before he had done so with her. “He wants it more than he can breathe.” She turned and looked pointedly at Maggie. “If he has to think about supporting the baby and me, he can’t put every dime he makes into his dream, now can he?”

“And once this baby is born, you’re planning on becoming a hermit?”

Travis took the opportunity to grab hold of Savannah’s arm and tug urgently. Without missing a beat, she stooped down and scooped him up into her arms. “What?”

“Staying close to home, doing nothing except care for the baby,” Maggie elaborated. “Not working for the Fortunes anymore.”

The idea of not working was absurd. She loved pulling her own weight. She always had. “No, of course not. I’ll take off a few weeks, then keep the baby with me as I work.”

Maggie spoke slowly, as if she was trying to digest every syllable. “You’re talking about your immediate plans, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” That was exactly what she was planning to do: have the baby, then return to work as soon as she was physically able. Rosita had already come to her and insisted that she be the one to watch the baby while Savannah worked.

“So why can’t you do that if you’re married? Why can’t you go on working as if you were a single mom, even if you’re married? You can provide for yourself and the baby, and Cruz can continue saving for his dream ranch.”

It sounded perfect, but nothing ever was. Savannah shook her head. “You’re oversimplifying it.”

“No, I’m not,” Maggie insisted. “Think about it.”

There was no need to think about it. “It’s a moot point. Your brother asked me once, and I turned him down. He used up his supply of male pride. He’s not about to ask me again.” Suddenly, she could see exactly what Maggie was thinking. “And don’t you make him.”

Maggie only laughed at the idea. “Maybe you don’t know him as well as I thought. Otherwise, you’d know that no one can make Cruz do anything he doesn’t want to do.” She rose to her feet and took Travis from Savannah. “Bedtime, little man.”

Travis began to whimper in protest. He turned soulful eyes toward his protector, but Maggie turned him away so that Savannah wasn’t subjected to the pitiful ploy.

She shushed her son’s protest. “Men, they’re all alike. Always trying to resist what’s best for them.” She looked at Savannah just before she crossed to the threshold. “All I ask is that you promise to think about what I said.”

Savannah knew she could spend from now until doomsday thinking about it. It wouldn’t change anything. The moves, the words, all belonged to Cruz.

But to placate Maggie, she murmured, “I promise,” and hoped that would be the end of it.

Twelve

S
avannah frowned as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Putting aside the dress she’d been holding up against her, she stood sideways and looked again.

There was no doubt about it. She was starting to show.

After all these months, her waist was beginning to thicken just a little. It wasn’t really enough to make anyone notice, unless they were looking closely for telltale signs.

But
she
had been. Every day for the last five months—ever since she’d discovered that she was pregnant— Savannah had examined herself in the mirror each time she dressed. Waiting to see the signs that her body was nurturing another life within it.

Now the signs, long overdue, were here, and she wasn’t sure just how she felt about it. About anyone else seeing her body widening with life. Mixed emotions churned through her. Savannah pressed her clasped hands to her lips.

It was finally happening.

There should be no mixed emotions, she thought sadly. It should be a happy time. It
was
a happy time—but only when she thought of the baby, not the circumstances.

But her circumstances refused to hang back in the recesses of her mind for very long. She was a single mother. She could give the baby love, but not a father. At least, not beyond the biological sense of the word.

Damn
, Savannah thought, reaching for her dress, when were these hormones of hers finally going to settle down and stop creating all these tears? Ever since she’d become pregnant, it was as if her emotions had gotten thrown onto a train repeatedly running up hills, only to plummet down the other sides.

This couldn’t go on. She had to get hold of herself. She had a baby to think about. And a future to create for both of them.

Giving herself a pep talk, Savannah slipped the deep-green velvet dress on and let the wide, soft skirt glide over her body. With a high neck and long, straight sleeves, the dress was festive and flattering. No one looking at her could guess that she was pregnant, much less six months along.

Slipping on her heels, she took a deep breath and went out to join the others.

Downstairs, the house was subtly decorated to reflect the Thanksgiving holiday. Floral arrangements of rust, deep gold and orange were tastefully set out in the foyer and adjacent areas.

People were already filling the house, and the sound of voices blending in simultaneous conversations rose to greet her before she reached the bottom step. Ryan was having his traditional Thanksgiving dinner, attended only by family and those who worked on the ranch. There’d be another larger dinner tomorrow night, where friends would be invited.

Trying not to be too obvious, Savannah looked around to see if Cruz was here. Maggie had warned her that Cruz might not come. It usually depended on his mood as to whether he would make an appearance.

Savannah didn’t see him—

She blocked out the pang that followed on the heels of the realization that he wasn’t here. It really wasn’t a surprise. Of late, she’d only seen him in passing. It was as if that night in his cabin hadn’t even taken place. Days would go by, and she wouldn’t catch so much as a glimpse of him at all. Someone told her that Cruz had taken to working with the horse in the meadow. She wondered if he was purposely avoiding her, shutting her out.

She could easily have ridden out to where he
was, using some pretext or another. But that’s what it would have been—a pretext. And he would have seen through it. A woman had to draw the line somewhere, and she had already drawn hers when she’d turned him down.

But her common sense had turned him down, not her heart.

It was better this way, she told herself firmly as she smiled and returned greetings that came her way. She’d given Cruz her answer—now it was up to her to stick by it. The time for regrets was long gone.

“Hey, look at you,” Dallas enthused, coming up behind her. He enveloped Savannah in a warm hug. Gone this last month, he had arrived home in time for Thanksgiving. “Motherhood agrees with you, Savannah. You’re positively glowing.”

She pretended to fan herself as he released her. “I think it’s just the heat.”

Dallas laughed.

He’d had no intention of attending the dinner. For one thing, though he bore no ill will to Ryan personally, to Cruz the whole idea seemed patronizing: “Senor” Fortune throwing his doors and his table open to “the help” and having them mingle with his own family.

But that wasn’t his only reason for skipping the
meal. For days he’d been avoiding seeing Savannah. She’d turned his proposal down, even after they’d made love again. Not verbally this time, but the message was still unmistakable. A man’s pride could only tolerate so much, and seeing her would be like rubbing salt into the wound created by her rejection. So he kept his distance, figuring that eventually this would all be a memory.

Cruz had no idea how many days made up an “eventually,” but he had a feeling the number was a lot higher than he anticipated.

But his decision to forgo Thanksgiving was not without repercussions. His father’s displeasure, though never dark, never censuring, was still not something he relished facing. The fact that he was a grown man and on his own made little difference.

Ruben Perez had sent his wife, daughter and grandson along to the main house while he stopped at his son’s cabin. He knew that Cruz, without being prodded, would not be attending the party. He intended to prod.

“You’re not ready.”

The shrug that met his father’s statement was purposely casual. “I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are.”

Cruz met his father’s eyes unflinchingly. “I’m too old to bully, Dad. I can do as I please. And I
don’t want to attend Ryan Fortune’s Thanksgiving dinner.”

Ruben shook his head as he frowned. Instead of anger, there was disappointment in his eyes. Cruz would have preferred anger. “I never thought I’d live to see the day my son was a coward.”

Cruz’s eyes darkened at the affront. “I’m not a coward.”

Ruben looked mystified that there could be any doubt. “You’re running from a small, blond woman. What would you call it?”

Cruz blew out a breath, curbing his temper. He couldn’t allow himself to shout at his father. “I’m not running. I proposed, she turned me down.” And that was the end of it. “I can’t drag her off by her hair and make her marry me.”

“No,” Ruben readily agreed. “But you can face her.” He knew his son, understood his heart even when it remained such a mystery to Cruz. Life had taught him things. “No matter what you try to tell yourself to the contrary, that’s why you’re not going—because you’ll have to see her there. If your conscience was clear, you could face her.”

Cruz was losing his hold on his temper. Struggling to maintain control, he waved a hand at his father. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fine.” Ruben inclined his head amiably. “I
don’t know what I’m talking about.” He moved in front of Cruz as his son tried to turn away. “Prove me wrong. Attend the dinner.”

He knew what pride meant to his father. And his absence would be noticed by Ryan. Cruz weighed sides. “Does it mean that much to you?”

“Yes,” Ruben replied quietly. “It means that much to me.”

Surrender seemed inevitable. He’d gone head to head with his father before, and even when he won, he felt as if he lost. There seemed no point in this confrontation. A quick grin of affection flashed across his handsome face.

“All right, I’ll go.”

A softer, subtler smile graced Ruben’s features. There was a candle burning in the church he attended regularly. It represented a silent prayer that the parents of his grandchild would find their way into each other’s lives. But being a down to earth, sensible man, Ruben knew that God helped those who helped themselves and he was more than willing to be on God’s team.

“Good.” Sitting down, Ruben made himself comfortable on the worn leather sofa. “I’ll wait while you change and get ready.”

“Yes, I’m sure you will.” With a resigned laugh, Cruz went to get dressed.

He walked in just as Savannah was being embraced by Dallas. The sudden flare of emotion he felt cut through all the lies he’d been telling himself. He hadn’t put her from his mind. On the contrary, she was more entrenched there than ever.

And Cruz had absolutely no idea what he was going to do about it.

It was as if she had radar. Savannah knew the instant Cruz walked into the house, even though there were people between them, blocking the way. She’d already told herself not to expect him, and thought she could deal with his absence calmly. But his presence was another matter. She felt her heart stop, then start again, pounding as if she’d just run a record-breaking mile.

Like an orchestrated scene in a movie, their eyes met across the foyer. Suddenly, it felt as if sunshine had slipped into her body, despite the gray skies outside.

She barely heard Ryan above the roar in her ears.

“Well, now that everyone’s here,” Ryan announced jovially, looking at Ruben, “I believe dinner can finally be served.”

It took her a moment to realize that Dallas was presenting his arm to her. “If you’ll do me the honor, I’d like to escort you to the dining room, milady,” he teased.

She saw Cruz stop abruptly, but there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t very well tell Dallas that she was waiting, hoping that Cruz was coming toward her.

And then an idea came to her from nowhere, like lightning across the clear sky. “Of course—if you promise to let me bend your ear a little. I have a proposition for you.”