What Price Paradise (21 page)

“That would be my guess.”

“Will she be okay?” She couldn’t keep the worry out of her voice. For some reason she found herself identifying with the beautiful bay mare more than she did the others.

“Should be. She’s had a couple of colts before with no problem.”

Buddy looked up as they entered the barn. He was leaning on the stall door calmly, as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “She’s in labor.” He tilted his head at Sugar Baby.

“How far along?”

He arched an eyebrow at Tate. “Like I’m supposed to know? You’re the expert around here. No way am I sticking my hand in there.” He shuddered.

Abby couldn’t decide if he was serious or not until Tate started rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Her stomach flopped. Surely he wasn’t going to… Apparently, he was.

She watched as he washed all the way up his arms, then applied a rusty brown liquid to his right one. He stepped into the stall and moved around behind the mare.

“Hold her head, Buddy. She’s not going to be real happy about this.”

Buddy grabbed hold of the mare’s halter. “Okay, I got her.”

Tate vanished from Abby’s view briefly, then his head reappeared. Suddenly, Sugar Baby’s head jerked up, her eyes rolling back until the whites showed. Buddy was almost yanked off his feet as the mare squealed.

‘Not happy’ was an understatement as far as Abby was concerned. And she didn’t blame the mare a bit. She wasn’t feeling too great herself right now and all she’d had to do was watch.

Tate stepped back into view and moved to the mare’s head, talking to her in a low soothing voice. She continued to shift restlessly, but Abby could see her visibly calm.

“Well?”

“She’s getting there.” Tate glanced at Buddy before washing his hands again. “Probably been in labor most of the day, but it could still be a few hours yet.”

Abby couldn’t stand it another minute. “Shouldn’t I go call a vet?”

Buddy and Tate both turned around to look at her. “What for?” Tate looked surprised that she’d even thought of it. “He’d only have to stand around and wait with the rest of us. And chances are, we won’t even need him. Sugar knows what to do.”

“Well, isn’t there something
I
can do?”

He studied her for a second. “We could use some coffee. It may be a long night.”

“I’ll go make some right now.” Abby turned and sped from the barn. Taking the back steps in one leap, she slammed through the door into the kitchen and skidded to a stop in front of the coffeemaker. It might be easier if she took the coffeemaker back to the barn with her. Then she wouldn’t have to run back and forth all night to make more.

Unplugging the appliance, she tucked it under her arm, gathered up some mugs and grabbed the coffee, a grin turning up the corners of her mouth. She was actually going to get to see Sugar have her baby. Excitement coursed through her as she ran back toward the barn.

Just as she reached the door, Tate’s voice, tight and low with anger hit her.

“You’re my brother, Buddy. How the hell could you not tell me?”

Buddy’s face was set in stubborn lines. “Because it shouldn’t matter to you anymore if Diane gets married.” He threw his hands up in the air as Abby stood frozen. “What could you have done if I had told you? By the time I found out it was already over with.”

The coffee can slid from Abby’s numb fingers and clattered to the floor.

Both of them spun to stare at her and she heard a low curse escape from Tate’s lips.

Buddy glared at him. “I hope you’re happy,” he hissed at his brother. “I’m going to the house. Right now I don’t want to even look at you.”

Abby took a deep breath and picked up the coffee just as Buddy paused on his way out. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Abby.”

His voice was pitched for her ears alone and she gave him a wan smile. “It’s okay. Really.” She continued into the barn, put the coffeemaker on a barrel and plugged it in, refusing to look at Tate while she set the mugs out. “It’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

Silence reigned in the barn while she got the water and prepared the coffee. When it started brewing, she sat down on a bale of hay, her gaze fixed on the mare. “How is she?”

Tate finally moved. “The same.” He took off his hat and hung it on a nail at the end of the stall before sitting down next to her. With his elbows propped on his knees, he ran a hand through his hair.

“Abby, I’m sorry.”

“Why? I would have heard about it sooner or later.”

“I know that. It’s just that I didn’t want you to—”

“You didn’t want me to know it upset you?” she interrupted. Abby shrugged one shoulder. “It’s okay, Tate. You have every reason to be upset.” And she had no reason at all for the crushing pain in her chest. Even after the last wonderful week, how had she dared let herself forget for even one minute that he’d married her because he thought he had to?

Tate was rubbing his face tiredly. “I just wish I knew what the hell I was upset about,” he muttered in answer to her last statement. He dropped his hands. “I admit, finding out about Diane was a shock. But Buddy was right. What she does is none of my business anymore. Even if I’d known what she was planning, I wouldn’t have tried to stop her.”

Abby forced herself not to flinch when he reached for her hand.

“Abby,” he shook his head and started again. “I think we’ve managed to get a good start on making this marriage work during the last week. Don’t let this ruin it for us.”

Abby opened her hand and turned it to grip his. “I won’t, Tate. Will you?” For a moment the silence deepened again and her heart almost stopped beating.

“No.” His answer was so quiet she had to strain to hear it. “I won’t.”

Blessed relief flowed through her. She still had time and, maybe with Diane safely married she wouldn’t have to leave at all. Her life had changed so drastically in the last few weeks that most of the time she was sure it was all a dream. She kept expecting to wake up and find herself back in that tiny shack, alone and broke and scared half to death. And it would be so much worse now than it had before. Now, she would know exactly what she was missing.

She glanced sideways at Tate. He was staring at their joined hands intently, almost as if it were the first time he’d ever seen them. His hair, rumpled from the hat he’d removed, tumbled down onto his forehead, obscuring his eyebrows. His chin and jaw were covered with dark stubble, his mouth set in a tight line. He looked worried, Abby decided. About Diane?

She couldn’t stop the tiny sigh that escaped her lips. It had been foolish to let her guard down, but she couldn’t seem to help it. The closer they got, the more she seemed to lose control of her feelings. It was getting harder every day to hide her love for him. But somehow, she had to.

Abby suddenly realized that he’d looked up, was studying her face almost as intently as he had their hands.

“I invited Joe to dinner Sunday.”

She nodded, still involved with her own thoughts.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

Her gaze met his, puzzled. “Why would I mind? I’ll be cooking anyway. One more doesn’t matter.” She pulled her hand away from his and went to the coffeemaker. Pouring a cup, she brought it back and handed it to him.

He took it, then sat it on the bale next to him. To Abby’s surprise, he tugged her down onto his lap, his arms around her waist. For a split second she fought the urge to lean into him, then gave up and rested her head on his chest.

“Do you like Joe?”

“Of course. He’s very nice.” Was Tate afraid she wouldn’t like his friends? “Everyone I’ve met since I’ve been here has been nice.” She put her hand on Tate’s arm, loving the feel of the hard muscles under her fingers. A smile curved her lips when those muscles flexed in reaction.

He lowered his chin to the top of her head. “You know, I’ve always wondered what women see in Joe. Seems like there’s about a dozen chasing him all the time.”

Abby shrugged lightly, concentrating on letting her fingers slid up and down his arm. “He’s good-looking, funny, charming. I guess Joe has a lot to offer a woman.”

Tate stood up so fast he almost dumped her in the floor and she would have sworn she heard his teeth grinding together.

“I need to check on Sugar again,” he mumbled.

Her attention was immediately diverted to the mare and she leaned on the stall door as Tate ran his hands down the restless horse’s side. Sugar tried to shift away from him, but he held her bridle, murmuring in that low voice.

“How is she?”

Tate kept his hand on the mare’s side. “Looks like it’s going faster than I thought it would. Contractions are coming one right after the other.”

“She’s having it now?”

He glanced at Abby over his shoulder. “Soon, anyway. Probably in the next thirty minutes.”

“How do you know so much about this? Just from experience?”

“Partially.” He left the mare and moved closer to Abby. “My undergraduate degree was in pre-veterinarian medicine. I managed to get in a year of veterinary school before I quit.”

Abby gaped at him. “You were going to be a vet?”

Tate kept his gaze on the mare. “That was the plan.”

“Why did you quit?”

“Lots of reasons.” He suddenly seemed almost as uncomfortable as the mare. “Mom died about that time and Dad needed me back here. So did Buddy.”

She could almost hear what he wasn’t saying. Diane hadn’t wanted him that far away. After all, how could she manipulate him if he weren’t around to let her? A spark of anger lit inside Abby. How could he love that woman so much when she treated him the way she did?

She stared at Tate’s profile. The man might be exceptionally smart about most things, but she was beginning to wonder if he didn’t have a purely stupid side to him, too. Either that, or he had deliberately blinded himself to what Diane was really like.

Suddenly, the mare turned in a circle and clumsily folded her front legs, lowering her body to the floor. Her neck stiffened and her whole body tensed as she pushed.

Tate moved away from the stall door, then knelt behind her.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Yeah.” He sounded preoccupied. “Talk to her. Keep her calm.”

Abby hesitated only an instant before slipping into the stall and dropping by Sugar’s head. She stroked the satiny, sweat-covered neck softly, murmuring quiet encouragement to the mare.

“Here come its feet. The front ones, thank God.”

She twisted around to get a better view then sucked in a breath of air, awe sending chills over her. Two tiny little feet protruded from Sugar’s backside. Even as she watched, Sugar pushed again and a delicate nose appeared, followed rapidly by the rest of the head. Then, in a rush of fluid, the foal plopped wetly onto the straw, Tate supporting him.

Abby didn’t realize tears were pouring down her cheeks, was so involved watching the birth that Sugar knocked her over when the horse lurched to her feet. As the mare turned and lowered her head to the new baby, nudging it with her nose, Tate glanced at Abby.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she sniffed, wiping her cheeks.

He smiled at her. “No matter how many times you see it, it never gets old.”

“She’s so beautiful.”

“He. It’s a colt.” Tate stood and assisted the wobbly-legged baby to its feet, helping Sugar guide him to his first meal. As soon as the colt latched on, Tate moved to Abby’s side, his gaze on the tiny tail that was twitching enthusiastically. “He looks more like Cody than he does his mama, except for that white blaze down his nose.”

“Cody’s black?” Abby had yet to see the stud since Tate kept him away from the mares most of the year.

“Solid black.” He extended his hand and helped Abby rise. “I think we’ll keep this one. By the time our baby’s old enough to ride, I’ll have him trained and ready.”

Abby felt tears welling up again but forced them back. “What are you going to name him?”

He looked down at her, his blue eyes filled with a smile. “Why don’t you name him?”

“Me?” Her mind went blank.

Tate wrapped his arms around her, tugging her tightly to his body. “There’s no rush. Think about it for a while.” His lips brushed her hair. “What do you say we go to the house and let these two have some time to get acquainted?”

“Sounds like a good idea to me.” She smiled up at him.

Abby paused, a heaping platter of fried chicken in her hands, and surveyed the table. This was the first time they’d had company over to eat since she and Tate had married and she wanted everything to be perfect.

She’d found a white linen tablecloth in the cedar chest in their room and it was now spread over the table. Sparkling dishes were arranged with military precision in front of each seat. She only wished there had been fresh flowers to use as a centerpiece. She’d planted some in the garden, but they were just starting to come up.

Placing the chicken next to the other bowls, she did a rapid inventory of the food. Mashed potatoes, homemade biscuits, gravy, corn on the cob, baked beans and cole slaw. Would it be enough? She nibbled her bottom lip fretfully. She knew how much Tate and Buddy could put away and today there would be a third male at the table.