Waiting for Baby Page 2

  Bear Creek Ranch was always booked solid during the holiday season, which stretched from late October through the first week of January. Nestled in a valley at the base of the Mazatzal Mountains, it was surrounded by dense ponderosa pines and sprawling oak trees. Bear Creek, from which the ranch derived its name, ran crystal clear and icy cold three hundred and sixty-five days a year. Fishermen, both professional and amateur, flocked from all over the southwest to test their skill at landing record-breaking trout.

  Jake had lived on the ranch his whole life—until two years ago when he’d walked in on his then-wife with another man. Given the choice, he’d have sought counseling and attempted to repair his and Ellen’s deteriorating marriage, for the sake of their three daughters if nothing else. Ellen, on the other hand, had wanted out and promptly divorced him.

  Because he wanted his daughters to grow up in the same home he had, enjoy the same country lifestyle, remain near the close-knit Tucker family, Jake had let Ellen keep their house on the ranch until their youngest child graduated from high school. He’d purchased a vacant lot a few miles up the road. There, he’d built a lovely—and terribly empty—house on a hill with a stunning view no one appreciated.

  Never once did Jake dream Ellen would bring another man into his home to sleep in his bed, eat at his table, live with his daughters. The very idea of it made him sick. And angry. That anger had prompted him to invite Lilly on a date.

  Seeing her for the first time since he’d botched their breakup, watching the brave front she put on, had reminded him of the genuine liking he’d had for her and still did. He’d been a jerk for treating her so poorly—but not, he reasoned, for letting her go.

  As difficult as their breakup had been for both of them, it was for the best. Jake had jumped the gun with Lilly, something he’d realized when she’d begun to pressure him for more of a commitment. His daughters were having trouble coping with their mother’s upcoming marriage and the prospect of a stepfather. A new woman in Jake’s life would’ve added to those troubles, and his daughters came first with him. He’d chosen wisely, he felt, to call it quits with Lilly before too many people were hurt or, as in her case, hurt worse.

  Climbing into his pickup truck, he took the main road through the ranch to the riding stables. He pulled up beside a split-wood fence his grandfather had built fifty years ago and parked.

  “Howdy, Jake.” Gary Forrester, the ranch’s manager of guest amenities, came out from the barn to greet him. He carried a metal toolbox in one hand. In the other, he jangled a set of keys to one of the ATVs the hands regularly used to get around the property.

  “Hey, Gary. You off somewhere?”

  “The number-three pump went on the fritz this morning. I’m on my way up the hill to see if I can talk sweetly to it.” The older man had a real knack with finicky pieces of machinery, coaxing them to work when they were beyond repair. Hired thirty-plus years ago by Jake’s grandfather, he’d become a permanent fixture on the place.

  “I won’t keep you long, I promise.” Jake ambled toward the holding corral where a dozen horses milled quietly in the warm noontime sun. The other dozen or so were out carrying guests on one of the many scenic trails winding through the nearby mountains.

  “I can spare a minute.” Gary set the keys and toolbox on the ATV’s wide seat and joined Jake at the corral. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Any chance we have room for another animal?”

  “Sure. You found one?”

  “Not exactly.” Jake rested his forearms on the piped railing. “This one would be a boarder.”

  “Hmm.” Gary raised his weathered brows. “That’s a new one. Didn’t think we were in the boarding business.”

  “We’re not. The Horizon Adult Day Care Center has come by a mule and is looking for a place to keep it.” Jake didn’t need to elaborate. Gary was familiar with the center. It was located in the same small shopping plaza as the antique store co-owned by his wife and Jake’s aunt. “An old, lame mule, so I’m told.”

  Gary pushed his cowboy hat back and scratched the top of his head. “What in the tarnation are they doing with a mule?”

  “The Malcovitches donated it.” The reminder of Ellen’s fiancé triggered another surge of anger in Jake. He quickly suppressed it.

  “Why?”

  He summarized Lilly’s plan to use the mule as a teaching tool and positive influence on the center’s clients. “I haven’t decided anything yet. There are some insurance issues to resolve. And I wanted to bounce the idea off you, seeing as the work the clients do will fall under your domain.”

  “Are them people up to the task? Cleaning out pens doesn’t take much know-how, but it’s physically demanding, and they gotta be able to follow directions.”

  “Ms. Russo seems to think they are.” Jake’s voice involuntarily warmed when he spoke Lilly’s name.

  Did Gary notice? Jake wasn’t sure how much the employees knew about his former relationship with Lilly or what conclusions they’d jumped to. Bear Creek Ranch was a small community, and as much as the family tried to minimize it, people gossiped.

  “What about the guests?” Gary asked.

  “Obviously, nothing the center does here can interfere in the slightest with the ranch’s operation.”

  Gary nodded. The guests—their comfort and enjoyment—were his top priority. “We might want to put the mule in by himself for a while. Just to be on the safe side. Some horses take unkindly to long ears.”

  “I don’t think he should be allowed on any trails, either, until we determine just how lame he is. Make sure he’s ridden only in the round pen for now.”

  “Sounds like you’ve already decided.”

  “No. But I will take Ms. Russo’s proposal to the family.”

  Gary’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “That ought to be interesting.”

  Jake didn’t dispute his statement. The Tuckers were close but they didn’t always agree on what was best for the ranch—and each other. Gary knew that better than anyone. Thirty years of working and living side by side with his employers had given him an inside track. Their relationship had recently become further entwined when Gary’s daughter had married Jake’s former brother-in-law.

  “We’re meeting on Saturday,” Jake said. Pushing away from the railing, he turned toward his truck, mentally composing his argument to the family in favor of Lilly’s plan. Tax deduction and goodwill aside, it was the right thing to do. The Tuckers had a longstanding history of giving back to the community.

  “I’ll have Little José ready one of the stalls,” Gary said.

  “No rush.”

  Jake’s words were wasted on his manager. The stall would be fit for a Kentucky Derby winner by quitting time today.

  “Not that my opinion counts, but I think helping the center is a good idea.” Gary had fallen into step beside Jake. Midway between the ATV and Jake’s truck, they paused to finish their conversation. “Ms. Russo is a fine lady with a heart of gold. She works her tail off for them folks.”

  “Yes, she does.”

  Was that a subtle reprimand in Gary’s tone or was guilt coloring Jake’s perception? Probably a little of both.

  “Lord knows some of them need a fighter on their side. It’ll be my pleasure having her around.”

  Jake’s, too. More than he would’ve guessed and for reasons in no way connected to the center, its clients or an old, lame mule about to find a new home on the ranch if he had any say in the matter.

  He cautioned himself to tread carefully. The reasons he’d broken off with Lilly in the first place hadn’t changed. If anything, they’d intensified. As his ex-wife’s wedding approached, his daughters were becoming more sullen and starting to act out, especially his oldest, Briana. Asking them to accept yet another change, in this case Lilly, wasn’t fair and would only make the situation worse.

  Lilly had the right idea: keep things on a professional level, for everyone’s sake.

  But after seeing her today, Jake
knew it wouldn’t be easy.

  Chapter Two

  Lilly bent over the compact porcelain sink and turned the right faucet on full blast. Forming a cup with her hands, she splashed cold water on her face. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that her efforts fell short of the desired effect. Her complexion remained as pale as when she’d woken up that morning.

  With a flick of her wrist, she shut off the water, snatched a coarse paper towel from the dispenser and blotted her face dry. When she was done, she reached into her purse and removed a small bottle of antacid tablets, popping two in her mouth. She doubted they’d cure what ailed her.

  Since last Thursday when she’d met with Jake, her stomach had been in a chronic state of queasiness. Despite her best efforts, her plan for the center still hadn’t come together. And at the rate things were progressing, it might never.

  Keeping her word to Jake, she’d contacted the Horizon day care’s owners over the weekend, and Dave had assured her the insurance was adequate to cover clients and staff while they were visiting the ranch. Yesterday afternoon, the appropriate documentation was faxed to Jake’s office. His assistant had verified its receipt but volunteered no additional information in response to Lilly’s probing, other than to inform her that Jake would be in touch.

  Lilly’s anxiety had increased when the Malcovitches called a short while ago to tell her that if she didn’t have the mule picked up by tomorrow, they were giving him to someone else. She immediately placed another phone call to Jake and received the same cryptic message from his assistant. Lilly’s nerves couldn’t take much more.

  Popping a third antacid tablet, she returned the bottle to her purse and silently chided herself for letting Jake’s failure to call back upset her to the point of making her ill. He’d said he’d be in touch and he would. Jake was nothing if not dependable. All she had to do was wait.

  Giving her wispy bangs a quick finger-combing, she spun on her heels, opened the bathroom door and was immediately halted in midstep. Mrs. O’Conner was right outside and standing behind her wheelchair was Georgina, the center’s head caregiver.

  “Sorry.” Georgina backed up Mrs. O’Connor’s wheelchair to let Lilly pass. “She says she has to go. Now.” Georgina rolled her eyes.

  Lilly understood. Mrs. O’Connor “had to go” five or six times a day, whether she truly needed to or not.

  “How are you doing today, my dear?” Lilly stooped to Mrs. O’Connor’s level and laid a hand on her frail arm. “You seem sad.”

  Mrs. O’Connor raised watery eyes to Lilly. “My cat’s missing.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “She’s been gone three days now.” Mrs. O’Connor sniffed sorrowfully. “Such a good kitty.”

  Lilly straightened but not before giving the older woman a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sure she’ll return soon.”

  “I hope so.”

  According to Mrs. O’Connor’s daughter, the cat had expired of old age more than a year earlier. There were days Mrs. O’Connor remembered and days she didn’t. The Horizon staff had been asked by her daughter to play along whenever the cat was mentioned.

  The O’Connors were typical of the center’s clients. Caring for elderly and emotionally or physically challenged adults wasn’t always easy. Families needed breaks to run errands, attend to personal business, go to dinner or one of a thousand other things most people took for granted. If family members worked outside the home, those breaks were even more important. The Horizon Adult Day Care Center helped by providing quality care in an attractive facility and at an affordable price.

  After the death of her son, Evan, and the divorce that followed, Lilly had reevaluated her priorities and decided on a change in careers. The satisfaction she derived from earning a fat paycheck and driving a nice car waned in comparison to making a difference in people’s lives. At first, she’d contemplated working with children but that would have been too difficult. When she heard about the administrative position at the Horizon Center, she knew she’d found what she was looking for. Accepting the position, she left her job at Mayo Clinic Arizona and moved from Phoenix to the considerably smaller town of Payson.

  There’d been times during her thirty-two years when Lilly was happier, but never had she felt more valued or appreciated.

  “Do you need any help?” she asked Georgina.

  “I think we can manage.” Maneuvering Mrs. O’Connor’s wheelchair to clear the bathroom doorway, Georgina set about her task with the cheery smile that made her such an asset to the center.

  “If my daughter phones about my cat, will you come get me?” Mrs. O’Connor called as the door was closed.

  “Right away.”

  Lilly traveled the short hall that opened into the main recreational room. There was, as usual, a flurry of activity and a cacophony of noisy chatter. She was stopped frequently—by both clients and staff members—on the way to her office, located near the main entrance.

  “Lilly, Mrs. Vega has taken the TV remote again and refuses to tell me where she’s hidden it.”

  “Try looking in the microwave.”

  “M-M-Miss R-R-Rus-s-so. S-s-see wh-what I d-d-draw.”

  “Very nice, Samuel.”

  “The soda machine is out of Pepsi again.”

  “You know you’re not supposed to drink caffeine, Mr. Lindenford. It makes you agitated.”

  And on it went.

  Lilly’s official title was administrator, which involved running the office, supervising the personnel, maintaining the financial records and overseeing customer relations. Some days, however, she felt more like a babysitter. Not that she minded.

  Lilly no sooner reached the entrance to her office door and sighed with relief when she was stopped yet again.

  “Is it true we’re picking up the mule tomorrow?”

  She spun around. “Jimmy Bob, where did you hear that?”

  The young man hung his head in shame. “Georgina told me.”

  He was lying. They both knew it. Like many people with Down’s syndrome, Jimmy Bob was a sweet, kind soul with boundless energy and a quick, hearty laugh. He was also a chronic eavesdropper, sneaking quietly up and listening to conversations that weren’t any of his business. Because it was impossible for him to keep a secret, he always confessed what he’d heard, usually in the form of a lie so as not to implicate himself. Fortunately, he was also very likeable.

  Lilly took pity on him. His woe-is-me expression never failed to win her over despite resolutions to the contrary.

  “Sucker,” she mumbled under her breath, then said out loud, “We hope to be able to pick up the mule tomorrow. We’re not sure yet.”

  “When will we be sure?”

  A glance at the phone on her desk and the glaring absence of a flashing red message light made her heart sink. Jake still hadn’t called. Was he avoiding her? Had the family rejected her plan, and he was trying to think of an easy way to let her down?

  “I don’t know, Jimmy Bob. By the end of today, maybe, if all goes well.”

  His face broke into an enormous grin, his earlier shame evidently forgotten. “Can I ride him tomorrow? I’m a good rider. Ask my mom. She took me riding at the ranch. You know, the one with the big white barn.” He started whistling an off key rendition of the theme to Bonanza.

  Bear Creek Ranch had a red barn. Jimmy Bob must be referring to Wintergreen Riding Stables, which were located about a mile outside town heading toward Phoenix.

  “If we get the mule and if your mother agrees, you can ride him. But that won’t be tomorrow, honey.”

  Jimmy Bob stopped whistling and his enormous smile collapsed.

  “Maybe by Friday.” She patted a cheek that bore severe acne scars along with the slightest hint of facial hair. “I promise, when we finally take our first trip to see the mule, you’ll go with us.”

  She meant what she’d said. If Jake agreed, they would need their more able-bodied clients to keep Horizon’s end of the bargain. Jimmy Bob was
n’t only enthusiastic, he was strong and fit and cooperative. Other clients, like Samuel, weren’t capable of performing any chores but would be able to interact with the mule, possibly ride it while being led around a ring.

  Jimmy Bob’s smile showed signs of reemerging.

  “Would you do me a favor?” Lilly asked.

  He bobbed his head.

  “Go to the supply closet and bring me a ream of paper, okay?”

  He shot off to do her bidding. Lilly didn’t really need a ream of paper. She had two stacked beside her printer from previous attempts to distract Jimmy Bob.

  Sitting at her desk, she debated placing another call to Jake and was startled when the phone rang. It was answered by Gayle who was currently manning the welcome desk in the main room. The four to five caregivers always on duty took turns at the desk, rotating every hour or so. Ten seconds later when the caller wasn’t put through to her, Lilly gave up hope that it was Jake.

  She lifted a manila folder from a wire rack on the corner of her desk and withdrew the monthly bank statements. Normally, she could reconcile a bank statement in her sleep, but today the numbers refused to add up. Her chronic indigestion wasn’t helping matters. How long until those damn antacids kicked in?

  How long until Jake called?

  Lilly jumped to her feet. It wasn’t quite lunchtime, but she couldn’t tolerate the waiting anymore. A break from the center might be the perfect remedy to settle her nerves. She stopped at the welcome desk to inform Gayle that she was leaving.

  But Gayle forestalled her. “Any chance you can postpone lunch a few minutes?”

  “Why?” Lilly inquired.

  She inclined her head in the direction of the front door. Lilly turned to see Jake striding across the room straight toward her.

  JAKE SENSED every pair of eyes on him but he didn’t react.

  Activity and chatter ceased by degrees until the hiss of a wheelchair-bound woman’s portable oxygen tank was the only sound in the room. Three people abruptly leapt out of their seats to trail his every move, like predators stalking prey. He looked behind him and smiled. One of the trio, a young man, smiled back. The other two glared openly. Jake was an experienced businessman and accustomed to holding his own under pressure. But for some reason, his confidence wavered, and he didn’t like it.