A Father In The Making (12 page)

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Authors: Carolyne Aarsen

BOOK: A Father In The Making
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Nate ran his thumb along the rough wood of the pen, her words dipping into his heart, stirring some elemental emotion. “That's what I thought, too.”

He looked over at her as words hovered on the edges of his mind. Words that would articulate the flurry of emotions he felt around her and her kids.

“You look scared,” she said with a nervous laugh.

He couldn't admit it yet. The time with his stepfather had taught him not to show fear. Not to let anyone see.

But something must have registered with Mia because she gave him a knowing look.

“What are you scared of?” she asked, her voice quiet, gently probing.

There it was. The question that, if answered honestly, would voice the very things he had spent the past few years running and hiding from.

His innate sense of self-preservation kicked in and he answered her question with a question. “Why do you want to know?”

She pressed her thumbs together as she seemed to consider his query. She swallowed and drew in a quivering breath. “This isn't easy for me, either, you know.”

Her oblique comment gave him pause. But as it settled in, he realized what steps she was taking in the hesitant dance that was a relationship between a man and a woman. The dance they had been indulging in all week.

Then he looked at Mia and it was as if the weariness of his relentless, restless wandering finally came to rest like a burden on his shoulders.

He pushed himself away from the pen and came to sit beside her. He held her eyes, drawing strength from her. And, in the back of his mind, a small prayer formed.

Help me, Lord. You promised me I wasn't alone. Help me now.

“You know I was a foster child?”

“Denny told me you came to the ranch when you were about twelve. You lived with your stepfather? Was he the reason you ended up in care?”

“Karl was the type of man who treated his horses far better than he ever treated me.” Nate couldn't keep the bitter note out of his voice, which frustrated him. He had tried, over time, to scrub away any memories of Karl. He didn't want Karl to own any part of his mind.

“Did he own a ranch, as well?”

Nate nodded, his mind ticking back to the letter from the lawyer and the opportunities Karl's legacy presented. The money could give him a start. A down payment on a new life.

In spite of that, his gut twisted at the thought of taking anything from a man who had taken so much from him.

“He trained cutting horses,” Nate said. “He was a top-notch trainer. Well-known. I learned a few things from him, good and bad.”

Mia was quiet a moment. “Can I ask why you were put into foster care?”

Nate leaned forward, clasping his hands together, trying not to delve too deeply into the past and yet tell her enough to explain. “Karl was a good horse trainer, but didn't know how to handle kids. He was rough and nasty and unforgiving. Eventually, there were a few too many reports from a neighbor, plus a few too many visits to the hospital by me. Karl could blame only so many broken bones on horse accidents.” He stopped there, aware that he was veering close to self-pity territory.

He felt Mia's hand rest lightly on his forearm, as if anchoring him. “I'm so sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn't realize that. What a horrible thing to deal with, to remember....” Her voice trailed off.

He gave her a careful smile. “I try not to let the memories take over.”

Mia's features softened with pity. That bothered him more than he cared to admit.

“You don't have to feel sorry for me,” he said. “I'm not a victim. I'm in charge of my life. I go where I want and do what I want.”

Mia's smile stiffened and he realized how his bluster sounded. “Denny said something about it being ironic that you raise and train cutting horses,” she said. “Is that because of your stepfather?”

Nate let the question settle a moment, going back to the times his stepfather had told him he would never make a trainer—that he was hopeless and a waste of skin.

“Have you ever watched cutting horses work?” he asked, deflecting her question.

“Never even heard of them until you came rolling into town,” she said, seemingly willing to go along with his conversational switch.

“Limping more like,” he said. He leaned back against the barn wall, stretched his legs out as if getting comfortable. But looking over at Mia, catching her profile in the subdued light of the barn, he realized that he truly was. Comfortable. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this relaxed around anyone.

“So tell me about working a cutting horse,” Mia urged.

“When you're working with a cutting horse in competition, the rider doesn't control the reins,” Nate said, crossing his arms over his chest. “He sits in a position that is called Cutter's Slump—leaning back but with shoulders forward and hands on the pommel of the saddle. You use your feet to move the horse, but you don't control it with your hands as it moves and sweeps. I depend on the horse to know what it's doing as much as he or she depends on me to give it just enough guidance to do the job properly.”

“Seems like it's more about partnership,” Mia said, perfectly articulating what he had tried to say.

“Exactly.”

“But don't you need to be around cattle to train cutting horses?” she asked.

“I go on the road with them for competitions, but on the off-season I usually manage a ranch for the winter, like the one I'm headed to after the competition.”

Mia nodded, braiding her fingers together. “And that way you're not tied down?”

Nate heard the underlying tone in her question. Guessed where she was going with it. He took a chance and caught one of her hands in his, running his fingers over her blunt fingernails.

“I used to think that I had to be in charge of my life,” he said, his voice quiet. “Move when I wanted. A restless, windblown wandering. I feel like I was looking for something I couldn't put my finger on. I always thought I would recognize it when I found it. But lately...” He let the sentence trail off, old fears and worries rising up as if warning him not to let Mia close. Not to take this final step.

“Lately...” Mia encouraged, her voice breathless.

Nate threaded his fingers through hers, looked into her eyes and took a chance. “Lately, I feel like everything that was important to me is shifting and changing. I've lost my footing.”

“I feel like I've never had my footing,” Mia returned with a shaky laugh.

Nate heard the insecurity in her voice, puzzled as to how she could think that. “You're an amazing person,” he said, struggling to find the words to reassure her. “You're an amazing mother. The patience you show with your kids, the love.”

“That's not amazing,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “That's just being a mother.”

“Not every mother is like that,” he said quietly.

Mia looked over at him. “Maybe not, but many are.”

“I can't imagine many mothers who have had to deal with the stuff you have—raising four kids on your own, losing your business—and still be a patient and loving mother.”

She was quiet at that, as if she wasn't sure how to refute him.

“But you're more than that,” he said, unable to stop himself. “You are a caring person. Generous and giving.” He took her face in his hand, gently stroking his thumb over her delicate chin. “You're beautiful....” His words faded away as her eyes grew wide with surprise and amazement.

“You look like you don't believe me,” he said with a light laugh.

“I don't feel very beautiful.”

Nate stroked her face as if imprinting her features into his mind. Her breath quickened and he felt a release of resistance. He moved closer, waiting, measuring.

“You may as well know, I want to kiss you,” was all he could say.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, then, to his surprise, she reached out and cupped his chin in her hand, as if giving him permission.

Nate closed the small gap between them and, giving in to the attraction that quivered between them, he brushed his lips lightly over hers. A gentle touch. She leaned closer and as they shared a slow, gentle kiss, a voice in the back of his mind warned him.

But for now he stifled it. For now he was with Mia, and that was as far as he wanted to think.

 

Chapter Eleven

M
ia's heart trembled in her chest as she reluctantly drew back from Nate's kiss.

Had this handsome, wonderful man really kissed her? Mia VerBeek? Mother of four?

She hardly dared believe it happened and yet, as she looked into his eyes she saw the light in them and dared to believe that what was happening between them was real. Was true.

“You are beautiful,” he repeated, his hands lingering on her face, sending shivers chasing each other down her spine. “It was the first thing I noticed about you.”

“That and the twins,” she said with a light laugh, injecting a note of reality into a distinctly unreal situation.

“Them, too.”

In the pen beyond she saw Nola looking down. Probably inspecting her new baby like any mother would. Mia ran her hands over her legs, trying to find a way to voice her misgivings.

“You seemed uncomfortable when you found out they belonged to me.” She spoke quietly, hesitant to relive that moment, yet feeling as if it was necessary to discuss.

Nate leaned forward and Socks got up and padded over to him. Nate stroked his ears, frowning lightly. “When I first saw you I was attracted to you. I thought you were single. I'm not going to lie, it had been a while since I saw someone as pretty as you.”

“Oh, c'mon,” she said, waving her hand as if dismissing his comments.

“Think what you want. That was my initial reaction,” Nate said. “I wanted to get to know you better. Then I saw the babies and I thought, of course. The best ones are always taken.”

“So it wasn't the kids that put you off?”

“No. You didn't give me much of a chance to say different.” He gave Socks a final pet. “When I found out you had four kids, it...changed things for me—”

“Of course it did,” she cut in.

“Hey. I want to be honest with you. Just give me a chance here,” Nate said, catching her hands in his again.

“Sorry.”

“I told you how I grew up. I never thought I had the necessary skills or background to take on the responsibility of being a father.”

Mia was surprised at his admission. “But you're so good with my kids.”

“I like them,” he said. “They scare me, but I like them.”

“They scare me, too,” Mia said with a laugh. “Sometimes I walk around the house wondering who these kids are and why they are calling me ‘Mom.' Then I realize, they're mine.” She grew serious. “I'm glad you like my kids. Anything that happens to me, happens to them.”

“I know,” he said. Then he sighed. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want, but I'm curious about Al. Your ex-husband. What happened?”

Mia bit her lip, not sure herself she wanted to revisit that place.

“Al and I had a rocky marriage from the start. He liked to go out and party and I liked to stay home. He didn't want kids and I wanted a huge family. We compromised on the two boys.” Her mind ticked back to the incendiary argument they'd had when he found out she was pregnant with Nico. She always wondered if her son had heard that from the shelter of the womb. If it had imprinted on his mind somehow. “Anyhow, we stumbled along. I had made a promise and I keep my promises.” She shrugged, as if apologizing for that tendency.

Nate gave her shoulder a squeeze. “That's a good thing, you know.”

She gave him a quick smile, then returned to her story. “Though things were falling apart, I got pregnant again with the girls. Al accused me of manipulation, which was a joke. It wasn't like we spent a lot of time together at this point in our marriage. Then he told me that I had two choices. I could either terminate the pregnancy and stay married to him, or keep the babies and be a single mother.” She pressed her lips against the anger that could still rise up in her at Al's matter-of-fact appraisal of the situation. How calm he had been.

Nate's fingers dug into her shoulder. “Why do some people treat life, people, kids, so carelessly?”

She heard the underlying anger in his voice.

“I don't know,” she continued, “but needless to say, I didn't choose him. And he didn't choose me.” She spoke the words easily, even though they cost her much. She always knew for her there was no choice, but for her husband to so effortlessly cast them off could still jar.

Nate sat up and turned her to face him. “He was and is a fool.” The anger in his voice was a consolation and an affirmation of who she was. She gave him a tentative smile, still unsure of what had transpired between them. Still hesitant to anchor it too deeply in her life.

Mia leaned against him, the silence of the barn broken only by the faint rustling coming from the pen. She wondered what Nate was going to do about his horses. About the futurity he had been headed for before his plans got derailed.

The mother part of her wanted to ask him about his plans and his intentions.

The woman part of her, the part that enjoyed being with this single, attractive man, kept the questions at bay. For now, this was enough.

* * *

“I think you might be okay in time for the competition.” Nate clucked to Tango and he stepped up the pace, trotting across the pasture toward the ranch yard. Tango moved smoothly, not much trace of the limp he'd been struggling with. He'd worked with Tango all day Saturday and Sunday, pleased at the horse's progress. It had been almost two weeks since the accident and every day the futurity came closer. He was supposed to be finishing Tango's training at Arden's ranch.

If you're still going.

The question threaded through him, creating second thoughts. Did he have to leave? Couldn't he stay here and work Tango on Denny's ranch?

But he would be making money managing the other ranch. Money he needed to keep his horses fed and himself fed until he got himself established. Even more important, he would be making valuable connections that he could use to start his own business. Set up his own place.

But all this would take time.

You could use Karl's money.

His hands tightened on the reins as anger and loathing coiled through him. Taking Karl's money would be like proving that he needed a man he swore would never have any part of his life.

But you're moving in a different direction. You kissed Mia a couple of days ago. You didn't do that lightly.

He shook off the voices roiling in his head. He didn't dare look too far ahead. For now, he knew that Mia was becoming important to him.

Can you do this? Can you be the man she needs?

He wanted to be. Women like Mia didn't come around often in a person's life.

Thinking of her four children in the abstract scared him. But when he thought of the kids individually—Josh, Nico, Jennifer and Grace—that didn't create the same sense of panic.

On Sunday, after church, they had taken a walk through town. Nate had treated the kids to ice cream and they had gone to the park. It had been one of those days you see on commercials for minivans or life insurance.

The perfect family. Something he'd been looking for most of his life. He'd had a taste of it with the Norquests.

And look what happened there.

Nate pushed the fleeting thought aside. He knew that he'd let his losses seep too deeply into his life and affect his decisions. Constantly being on the move kept him from putting down roots that could be pulled up. And each uprooting hurt.

Forget the former things. Do not dwell on the past. See I am doing a new thing. Now it springs up. Do you not perceive it?

Right behind those words from Isaiah came thoughts of Mia. Her tenderness and her love for her kids. The way her smile lit up her face when she looked at him. How she seemed so genuine.

Forget the former things.

Nate drew in a deep, cleansing breath, then as he dismounted, he looked over at the house. Evangeline and Denny's vehicles were gone. Mia's was still there. His timing was perfect.

He unsaddled Tango, checked on Nola, then, knowing he couldn't put it off anymore, he took a steadying breath and stepped out of the barn into the welcoming morning air.

As he walked toward the house, his heartbeat quickened in anticipation.

He opened the porch door and when he stepped inside was immediately assaulted by the muffled wailing of babies and Josh sobbing. “I'm sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to,” was all he could hear.

What was going on?

Through all this he caught the faint murmurs of Mia's consoling voice. “It's okay, honey. Don't worry. Mommy's not angry with you,” she was saying.

He stopped at the sink to wash and dry his hands, then followed the cacophony and unpleasant odor to the bathroom down the hall from the kitchen. Just inside the door he saw Jennifer clinging to the cabinet door, mouth wide open, tears streaming down her cheek. Grace was also crying and trying to pull herself up on Mia, who was crouched beside the toilet, her arm around Josh. The boy was bent over it, crying, as well. Nico huddled in the bathtub, arms clasped over his head as if to shut out the intense noise.

“I don't want to be sick. I hate being sick,” Josh was wailing, clinging to either side of the toilet.

“Sweetie, it will all be over soon.” Mia's voice was barely audible over the shrieking.

The entire scene was chaos and Nate never felt more helpless. But he couldn't stand there and do nothing.

Jennifer, still crying, lowered herself to all fours and crawled toward the door. Grace, still wailing as well, followed.

“Jennifer, come back here,” Mia called out above the noise, still holding Josh. “Grace, stay here.” She caught the second baby just as Josh started crying again.

Nate grabbed the wayward twin heading past him around her middle and heaved her off the ground. Mia looked up and when she saw him her shoulders sagged in relief.

“Cavalry is here,” he said as Mia tried to corral Grace. “What can I do?”

Mia bit her lip, her gaze shooting from Josh to Grace, who was wiggling free from her clutches. “Josh is sick and I'm supposed to go to Cranbrook with Nico later this morning.”

“I know,” Nate said. He had heard from Evangeline.

Then Grace escaped her clutches, heading toward Nate and he bent over and scooped her up, as well. “I'll take the girls to the kitchen. You take care of Josh. Nico, you want to come?”

The boy didn't need a second invitation. He launched himself out of the tub and hurried over to Nate's side so fast he expected to see cartoon swirls of dust behind him.

Grace and Jennifer each let out another wail as he walked out of the bathroom, but as soon as he got to the kitchen, they simultaneously stopped crying. As if someone had flipped a switch in their little minds. He jiggled them on his lap, which made them laugh. So he kept doing it and they kept laughing.

“Sounds like someone is having fun.” Mia came into the kitchen, her arm around Josh, who was leaning against her.

“How is he?” Nate asked, jiggling the girls again.

“I'll have to call and cancel the appointment.” She blew out a frustrated sigh and Nate felt her disappointment. “Do you mind watching the girls for a few more minutes while I get Josh settled?” she asked.

“No. We're okay here.”

Mia's grateful smile made him feel like quite the white knight. When she left he bounced his legs again. The girls laughed again, each one reaching for the other, their hands tangling together.

He smiled at their antics. Something unique about twins. Twice the fun and twice the work. But still kind of neat. Jennifer reached up to grab at his hair. “Yeah. I know. I need a haircut.”

Above him a door closed and he heard Mia come down the stairs leading into the kitchen. He looked up at her, once again feeling a flash of sympathy for the weariness etched on her features. “Is he going to be okay?”

“A stomach bug is no fun, but yes—I just hope we don't all get it.” She wrapped her arms around her midsection, looking at Nico, her concern clearly expressed in her frown.

Nico seemed to pick up on that, and immediately ran back upstairs.

Nate watched him go, jiggling the girls again as he struggled with an idea. He put the girls down on the floor, watched to make sure they weren't going to get into trouble and then turned back to Mia. He took her hands in his, then leaned forward and brushed a kiss over her forehead.

“I couldn't resist,” he whispered, touching her cheek with his forefinger.

A smile teased Mia's lips and he had to fight the urge to brush a kiss over them again. Instead he focused on what she needed more. Correction, what Nico needed.

Don't do it. Don't offer. You don't know anything about kids.

The voice in his head created a hesitation, then saw the concern clearly etched on Mia's features. What else could he do? She was stuck.

“I don't think you should miss that appointment,” Nate said, his hand lingering on her shoulder. “Nico has made few strides and I think you need to talk to the doc about that.”

“I do, too, but what can I do about Josh?”

“I'll watch him.” The words popped out before he could stop them.

“No. You don't need to do this. It's fine. I'll figure something out.”

“What? Evangeline and Denny are both working. And you can't take Josh along.”

Mia opened her mouth to form her automatic objection, which Nate stopped by simply placing his finger on her lips.

“It will be fine,” he said, fighting down his own concerns. It was just one afternoon. He could handle this. “I have a good book to read—your book club book, by the way.”

“Were you thinking of coming?”

“I might. If I get it done,” Nate returned with a cheeky grin. “Which will probably only happen if I'm stuck in the house babysitting.” He squeezed her hand in assurance. “If he sleeps, how hard can this be?”

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