Baby's First Homecoming. Cathy McDavid
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Her father’s smile fell.
“He’ll get used to you in a day or two,” she reassured him, though, in truth, she didn’t know what to expect. She and Jamie were still getting to know each other.
Her brothers came over next. Ethan’s hug was enthusiastic. Gavin’s less so. He loved her, but he was also angry at her for the pain she’d caused them and slower to let go of hard feelings.
“I’m so happy for you both,” she said. “I can’t wait for the wedding.”
That seemed to ease the tension. More introductions were made. Sierra greeted Caitlin warmly, having known Ethan’s fiancée since grade school. Sage, Gavin’s fiancée, impressed Sierra with her genuineness.
“Your son is beautiful.” Sage patted Jamie’s leg.
He jerked his leg out of her reach.
Sierra smiled apologetically. “He’s hungry and a little cranky.”
While she warmed a jar of baby vegetable stew in the microwave, Jamie, still sitting on her hip, polished off a bottle of apple juice. Everyone began talking again, thank goodness.
After a while, Gavin’s daughter, Cassie, came over. “I’m a good babysitter if you ever need one.”
“Thanks.” Sierra patted the girl’s shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
She hadn’t met Cassie before. The twelve-year-old had only come to live at the ranch last summer. Sierra noticed the affectionate glances Gavin sent his daughter from across the room. Maybe one day she’d have the same loving relationship with Jamie.
“It’s so nice to have another baby in the family,” Caitlin said, joining Sierra at the table where she fed Jamie.
“Another baby?”
“Sage is four months along, and I’m two.”
“You’re both pregnant!”
Sage dropped into the remaining empty chair. “Yes, so I guess it’s a good thing the wedding’s soon! I wouldn’t fit into my dress otherwise.”
“Congratulations.” Sierra observed the joy in their faces and felt a pang of regret. Her face had been a mask of sorrow all during her pregnancy.
“Is Jamie’s father in San Francisco?” Caitlin asked.
Sierra tensed. She’d prepared herself for this question on the long drive. “He’s not part of mine or Jamie’s lives. I’m raising him alone.”
She couldn’t tell her family the truth. If they ever found out Jamie’s father was the son of the man who’d stolen their land and sold it to an investor, they’d disown Sierra and toss her and Jamie out on their rear ends.
Near the end of the meal, Sierra excused herself and went to the hall bathroom to clean up Jamie and change him.
On her way back, she was stopped outside the kitchen by a chorus of hearty welcomes and the sound of a voice that instantly ignited wave after wave of panic.
Clay Duvall.
Impossible! This couldn’t be happening.
He was in Texas. And even if he wasn’t, her family hated him. He wouldn’t be allowed on the property, much less to set foot in the house.
“Sissy, come see who’s here,” her brother Ethan called to her.
She trembled so violently, she nearly dropped Jamie. He made it worse by wriggling.
“Hey.” Ethan came around the corner. “Is something wrong?”
“What’s he doing here?” she hissed.
“Clay? He came to see you.”
“Why?”
“He’s a friend.”
“No, he isn’t. His dad cheated us. You hate him. We all do.”
“Not anymore.”
“Since when?” she squeaked.
“Since we captured the wild mustang last fall. It’s a long story, I’ll tell you after the party.” Ethan hooked her by the elbow and gave a tug.
She refused to budge.
“Come on. You haven’t seen Clay since before Mom died.”
Not true.
Ethan all but dragged her and Jamie into the kitchen where she stumbled into her chair, praying for invisibility. Her family and Clay were friends again? How could that be? In every scenario she’d devised, he’d been a thousand miles away.
He strode farther into the kitchen.
Please, please, don’t come over here, she silently prayed.
Of course, he did, and she steeled herself.
“Hi, Sierra.” His smile was friendly, his voice deep and honeyed like she remembered.
She looked up at him—how could she not?—and stared into the face of her baby’s father. Her heart, open with love for her son and the recent reconciliation with her family, promptly closed tight.
* * *
SHE HAD A BABY.
Clay’s stomach clenched as if someone had sucker-punched him with the business end of a baseball bat.
From the moment he’d learned Sierra was returning to Mustang Valley, he’d imagined them picking up where they’d left off. She’d generously overlook his incredible lack of judgment and brief, disastrous marriage, and they’d fall into each other’s arms.
Only her arms were full of a bouncing baby boy. There went the happy-you’re-home kiss he’d been counting on.
Instead, he squeezed her upper arm. “Good to see you again.”
She muttered something about how nice it was to see him, too.
The boy’s head tipped back, and his inquisitive gaze fixed on Clay’s face. There was something about his eyes that struck a familiar chord, though Clay couldn’t quite identify why.
Maybe he was wrong, and the kid wasn’t hers. She could be a nanny or something.
“Who’s this?” he asked.
“My, um, my…” She glanced down at the baby, held him closer. “My son.”
Clay swallowed. So much for his nanny theory.
Which meant she’d been with a man. A man besides him. Jealousy sliced through him. Not that he had any claim on her. He’d forfeited it the second he’d stupidly left Sierra in order to reunite with Jessica, his then ex-fiancée and later wife.
In hindsight, hurting Sierra had been inevitable.
If Gavin and Ethan knew what he’d done to their little sister, he’d lose a lot more than their friendship. An arm. The use of his legs. And that was just for starters.
“What’s his name?” Clay asked.
The baby babbled as if answering. He really was an appealing tyke. Clay felt an unfamiliar, but not unpleasant, tug inside his chest. He’d always liked kids despite having little experience with them and would be a father today if things had gone differently.
His loss still pained him.
Probably the reason he felt drawn to Sierra’s boy.
She said nothing, acting as though she hadn’t heard him. Loading a spoon with some vile-looking mush out of a jar, she tried to feed it to the baby. Wisely, the kid shook his head and grimaced. The stuff did look awful.
“No name, buddy?”
“It’s Jamie,” Isa piped