The Baby Race (11 page)

Her smile faded a little. "Of course it is.
He hasn't been home for over a year. His father needs him and he
needs his father."

"Maybe. But was it your place to point that
out to them? They've been at each other's throats for years. What's
going to happen when they're face to face again?"

Claire's lips drooped. A worried frown
creased her forehead. "Oh, my. Will they hurt each other? I didn't
think...."

"You never do." Guilt at her genuine concern
made him add, "I doubt Hoffman and his son will come to blows. But
what about the next time you try and fix someone's life?"

Sparks flashed in her eyes. "I don't try and
fix people's lives. I just listen when they talk. They make their
own decisions about what to do."

She listened. That was the problem. He'd
never spoken to another soul about his life with his mother. With
her the words just poured out. Afterwards it was as if a long
festering wound had been lanced. The sharp pain of his memories
eased to a melancholy ache for lost opportunities.

He pulled the truck into the driveway and let
it idle. Back rigid with anger, she started to get out.

"Aren't you coming in?" Frost filled the air
between them.

Better frost than the sultry heat building
inside him. Part of him wanted to take her arm, go into the house,
help her while she made dinner and cleaned up, then settle next to
her on the couch. But he knew he wouldn't be content to leave it at
that.

Yesterday he finally admitted to himself that
he wanted her in his bed for real. Only lust could be responsible
for his allowing Claire to slip beneath his guard.

But the terms of their agreement didn't
include slaking his desire at her expense. He refused to use her
that way. She would want more - she deserved more than he could
give her.

"I'm going out."

Before she could respond or argue, he put the
truck in gear and sped away.

Claire stood and watched long after the dust
from the truck's spinning wheels settled. Did he really believe she
was an interfering busybody? Did she let her concern and interest
in people push them in directions they didn't want to go? She
didn't think so, but she vowed to try and rein in her tendency to
offer a sympathetic ear to anyone who wanted to talk. Except of
course, for family and friends. How could she turn away from
them?

Since the casserole she'd made earlier for
Clarence as well as Race and herself no longer appealed, she
quickly fixed a sandwich and a glass of milk. Afterwards she walked
out to the barn to say goodnight to the horses and other animals.
Usually, Race did one last round before turning in for the night.
Tonight he was off who knew where.

Before they left for the day, the volunteers
had taken care of the barn chores: fresh bedding, water and feed.
Claire simply traveled the length of the barn, stopping at each
stall to stroke the animals and give them a carrot from the bunch
she stole out of the fridge. Petula waddled behind, her cold, wet
snout pressed against the back of Claire's legs in an attempt to
reach the orange treat she craved.

"Don't shove, Petula. You'll get yours."
Claire laughed. "Who let you out, anyway? Come on." She lured the
greedy pig back into her pen with a dangling carrot and left her
happily munching.

If only people where as easy to understand
and please as Petula and the horses. A warm, dry place to sleep,
food, water and a gentle caring hand and they were content.

From the far end of the barn a horse gave a
startled whinny and stomped about in its stall.

"Is someone here?" she called. When no one
answered, cold prickles of alarm ran down her arms. The horses
shifted restlessly. Certain she wasn't alone, she edged toward the
door. Her heart pounded.

Though the ranch was isolated, never before
had she felt any fear about being alone. Of course, Race or War or
one of the volunteers were usually somewhere on the property.

"There's no money here. Just leave and I
won't have to call the police."

Coarse laughter floated on the warm night
air. Claire turned to bolt.

"Ain't no need to run. I ain't going to hurt
you." Ricky Banner's voice came out of the darkness. "Didn't think
I'd forget my kid, did you?"

He stepped into the moonlight streaming in
through the open barn door. When he hadn't come around for the last
few weeks, she'd begun to hope he'd moved on. But she'd never
completely dispelled her uneasy fear that he would return. Now her
nightmare had come to call.

The scratch and flare of a match released
Claire from her frozen panic. She rushed forward.

"Put that out!"

Startled, Banner dropped the match. The flame
flickered to life in a pile of wood shavings. One fear forgotten in
the face of another greater fear, Claire stomped out the tiny blaze
with her foot and turned on him. "Are you crazy? You can't smoke in
here."

For a second he seemed shaken, as if he
realized what he'd almost done. Then his features hardened and took
on a crafty look.

"Thought more about our talk? Bobbie Joe
seems to like it here. Be a shame to make her leave." He fingered
the matchbook in his hand and let his gaze travel around the dim
barn.

Claire's heart lurched at Banner's unspoken
threat. He'd been watching them. "Her name is Bobbie Sue."

"Talked to that social worker lady today. She
thinks you're a good mom for Billy Sue. Encouraged me to sign the
papers giving up my rights to the kid. I'd like to agree, but
things being what they are I ain't sure I can."

"What do you want?" she choked out the
question. Sweat trickled between her breasts, but inside she felt
frozen.

"Why, I don't want anything 'cept what's best
for my little Billy Joe." He spat. "Stupid bitch. What do you think
I want? Money."

"There isn't any money."

"Do you think I'm an idiot? Your hubby's
grandma is loaded. Get it from her. Or Betty Joe's coming with
me."

"The court will never give you custody.
You've barely been in her life at all."

"Why not. I'm her dad. I ain't got a criminal
record. I've got a new business starting up and a place to live.
Ain't my fault I never got to see her. Her mom left me and dragged
her all over God's green Earth. I even sent those support payments
when I could. Father's got rights nowadays. You ain't even blood to
the kid."

"I'll tell the social worker you asked me for
money."

"So?" He shrugged. "It's your word against
mine. You willing to take the chance? Court cases take time and
money. Better you just give it to me now and save yourself and
little Betty Jean the grief."

Drawn by the sound of voices, one of the
remaining kittens wandered into the aisle and started to wind
around Banner's ankles.

"Damned cat!" He kicked and missed.

Hissing and spitting its outrage, the kitten
darted into the shadows.

She couldn't risk the chance that the court
would side with him. "Tell me what you want," Claire begged. "I'll
get it for you." Somehow she'd find whatever he asked for. She'd
never let this man have Bobbie Sue.

He named a figure that made her go cold
inside. "When do you want it?"

His thin lips curled into an evil smile as he
brushed past her and left the barn. "Don't worry, I'll be in
touch."

~~~~~

CHAPTER NINE

As Race headed into the barn to check the
horses, voices made him pause. The conversation he overheard made
rage burned like acid in his gut. He ducked out of sight as Bobbie
Sue's unnatural father left the barn. How dare that slime come
around demanding money for the child he'd never given a thought to
before? Fists clenched, he took a step toward the retreating man.
He'd give the bastard something to think about.

The sound of Claire's voice stopped him. He
peeked into the barn. Head bent, she sat on a bale of straw
stroking an orange kitten in her lap.

"What am I going to do?" she asked the
kitten. "Where can I get that kind of money? You don't think the
court would actually give him custody of Bobbie Sue, do you? Aside
from a few phone calls and cards, he barely knows her. Still, he is
her biological father."

The little cat purred in response. With a
muffled sob, Claire buried her nose in the soft fur.

Her fears were justified. Race read the news.
He also had firsthand experience about the strength of a natural
parent's rights. More than one social worker had done their best to
remove him from his mother's care. But a few days off the bottle, a
modest dress and makeup and she managed to convince every judge of
her fitness to be a mother. Only her death had freed him. He hadn't
had a Claire to fight for him.

His fingers curled around the check Grandmere
had presented to him earlier. With it he could pay the debt on the
ranch.

Or he could buy off Banner.

The paper crumbled in his fist. With one last
look at Claire, he turned and strode back to the house.

*****

"Happy Birthday, Bobbie Sue," the crowd
gathered on the front lawn yelled. "Blow out the candles.

Bobbie Sue, dressed in a ruffled pink dress,
tiny Cassandra perched precariously on her shoulder, leaned forward
and blew. Seven candles went out. Then one flickered and flared
back to life. Brow wrinkled in concentration, Bobbie Sue blew
again. The candle died. But before she could straighten, it burst
into flames once more. Twice more she tried.

Half a dozen little girls and a score more
adults, watched in confusion.

"This is a trick candle." Bobbie Sue grabbed
the offending candle.

Claire turned toward the crowd in time to see
Grandmere's smile disappear behind her patrician mask. Who would
guess the old girl had such a sense of humor?

"Careful there." Race quickly pinched the
wick, effectively smothering the flame that wavered dangerously
close to the ruffles on Bobbie Sue's dress.

"That's not fair. Now I won't get my wish,"
she pouted.

"Of course you will," Race reassured her
before Claire could speak. "All of the candles went out with your
first blow. It doesn't matter if this one lit up again. It was a
joke - a bad one." He frowned at his grandmother. The elderly woman
hid her guilt well, and Race's glare fell on War then Vicki.

The man stared back, neither denying nor
admitting guilt, but Vicki couldn't quite squash her grin. Race
turned his attention back to Bobbie Sue.

"Race is correct." Grandmere moved next to
Bobbie Sue, who didn't look convinced. "Tell me your wish and I'll
make sure it comes true."

Bobbie Sue shook her head. "You're not
supposed to tell."

"Normally not, but this is a unique case."
Grandmere leaned toward the little girl.

"Well, okay." Her hands cupped to Grandmere's
ear, Bobbie Sue whispered something.

Claire watched Grandmere's eyes widen. What
had Bobbie wished for now?

Her lips curled in a Cheshire cat-like grin,
Grandmere looked first at Race then at Claire. "Don't worry, Bobbie
Sue, I think you'll get your wish."

"Goodie. Can we have cake and ice cream
now?"

For the next few minutes Claire was kept busy
cutting cake and dishing out ice cream. When everyone was served,
she leaned back against the picnic table and watched as the crowd
settled in the shade of the trees to eat. Cicadas hummed an erratic
rhythm in the summer heat. The smell of melting ice cream and sugar
frosting blended well with the scent of new mown grass in the dry
air.

At that moment, if not for Race's distance
and her deep dread of what Ricky Banner would do, she counted her
life perfect. This was what she'd always dreamed of and longed for.
Home. A lazy summer afternoon spent with family and friends.

The children gobbled their cake and ice
cream. Despite the heat they gamboled around the yard like frisky
colts, rolling in the grass without a thought for their party
dresses. Replete with food and sun, none of the adults
objected.

Race came up beside her. A lone breeze
carried his warm male scent to her. Unwilling to acknowledge how
important this man had become to her, she ignored her longing to
turn into his arms.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"For being so good to Bobbie Sue. For the
time you spend with her. Your patience with her constant questions.
It wasn't part of our deal."

"Deals are for adults, not little girls. It's
easy to be good to Bobbie Sue. She's special. I...care about
her."

His hesitation revealed far more than his
words. He cared, but he didn't want to. With every breath, he
fought against his feelings. Scarred by his childhood, Race shied
away from affection like his abused horses did people.

"I know you do."

Race laid his hand on her arm. "You're
special."

His hard-calloused fingers against her bare
flesh made her pulse rate soar. She jerked away. She couldn't give
in to her emotions; allow her feelings for Race to grow. If Banner
followed through on his threat and the court decided to award him
custody, she had to be ready to run. No matter what, she wouldn't
let him have Bobbie Sue.

"Grandmere gave me the marriage bonus last
night."

It took a minute for Race's words to
register. When they did, she pushed aside her fears and worries. At
least his dream would come true.

"That's wonderful. Now you can pay off the
ranch." The look on his face didn't reflect the good news.

"Claire! Can I open my presents yet?" Bobbie
Sue yelled.

"In a minute." She started toward the group
of little girls clustered around the pile of presents, then turned
back to Race. "I'm happy for you Race. You've worked long and hard
for this ranch. You deserve to succeed."