A Cowgirl's Heart Page 6

  Mitch parked himself in the chair Frankie had recently vacated, averting his eyes when Deb switched the expressing cup to the other breast. Grace gave a little hiccupping gurgle as she awoke. “So, how has the little princess cowgirl been today?” he crooned to the bub. Deb reached for the call button. “Sleeping a lot and still hard work to get a burp out of. But other than that, she’s a good baby. Well, as far as I can tell.”

  A nurse bustled in. “All done?” She gestured to the bottle Deb was securing a lid on.

  “I’m staying abreast of it, if that’s what you mean,” Deb responded. The nurse remained calmly professional, not allowing a hint of a smile to appear. “I’m sorry for the joke. I’ve made a bit of a boob of myself, haven’t I?”

  Mitch snorted. “I think you need to nip that in the bud, right now. It’s seems like you have been milking it a bit, going by your nurse’s reaction.”

  The stony-faced nurse secured a teat to the bottle. “Would you like to feed her this time, Dad?”

  “Oh, I’m not the dad.”

  “Yeah, he’s not the—”

  Both Mitch and Deb spoke at the same time, their words stumbling over each other.

  The nurse finally smiled, albeit a little awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I just assumed, since you’re here all the time.” She offered the bottle to Deb.

  Deb looked down at the proffered bottle and then to Mitch, her eyes questioning. “Would you like to feed her, Mitch?”

  His mouth dropped open, before shutting with a clink and tears welled in his eyes. For a moment, Deb was worried he might have bitten his tongue. “I would be honored,” he said sincerely. The nurse picked Grace up from her crib and, as she prepared to hand her to Mitch, he threw his hands up in protest. “Easy there, give a bloke some warning. How do I do it?”

  The nurse looked at him, confused. “Do what?”

  Deb burst out laughing, taking pity on him. “He means how does he hold the baby.”

  “Don’t drop it. Think you can remember that? Now, sit,” the nurse commanded sternly, her tone belied by the gentleness with which she deposited the baby into the worried man’s arms.

  Mitch sat stiffly upright, his chest barely rising and falling as if worried the babe would break. “Here.” The nurse said gruffly, thrusting the bottle at his face. Mitch raised his hand in self-defense and found himself suddenly in the possession of it. “She needs to drink all of it, and then give her a burp. You got all of that?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good.” And without another word, the nurse sailed from the room.

  Deb rather admired her handling of the situation, even if she did feel a teeny bit contrite for enjoying it quite so much. Mitch smiled ruefully, never taking his eyes off Grace blissfully suckling the bottle. “Bloody heck. Is she always such a barrel of laughs?”

  “Pretty much.”

  A companionable silence stretched, filled only with little slurps and gurgles. “How are you doing, Mommy? And I mean a real answer. Not fine or something like that.”

  The world around her retracted as she attempted to articulate her feelings, her heart pounding in her throat as the anxiety threatened to overwhelm her. “I have never loved something as much as I love her. But I’m terrified I’m going to stuff up, that I’m not good enough for her. That she deserves more. Sometimes I feel a black cloud hover over me, and I’m scared the darkness will hurt her.”

  Mitch watched her as she spoke, his expression non-judgmental as he digested her words. “No one will love her as much as you do. You have a mother’s love.”

  “But what if that isn’t enough?”

  “That love will move mountains. If it doesn’t, I will help you move them for her.”

  Deb looked away, unable to handle the tenderness his eyes emitted. She wasn’t worthy of it. “Mitch, we aren’t your problem.”

  Grace began to fuss with the bottle, so Mitch gently put her over his shoulder and began to pat her on the back. “Come on you little tacker, give Mitch a burp,” he crooned. “I want you to be my problem, Deb.”

  A tsunami of emotions buffeted her like she was a leaf in a storm, the fear laying siege to the longing for what he offered her and winning. Her eyes clouded over. “Everything is just so hard right now.”

  “But it doesn’t have to be. We can make it easy as pie if we want to.”

  “What happens if all we’re meant to be is friends? I don’t want to risk our friendship by trying to make it more than it should be.”

  Grace gave a resounding burp. “Good girl,” Mitch said as he stood. He gave Grace a kiss on her button nose. “Be good for your mommy,” he said as he handed her to Deb. “I think you’re worth it. There’s nothing you could ever do that would make me turn my back on you.” As he straightened, he paused, his eyes level with hers, a promise shining forth. He kissed her softly, his lips a faint whisper on her own. “Goodnight, Deb. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Deb watched him leave, terror and hope warring within her. In her arms, her baby slept peacefully.

  Chapter 10

  “Give me a moment. The instructions said that it should click in,” Senhor Eduardo muttered, his voice muffled as he leaned over the baby capsule. Grace cooed as his hair tickled her face.

  “Papai, let me have a go,” Gabi ordered.

  “I know what I am doing, Gabriella,” he replied gruffly. “Don’t I, bebe?” Grace cooed in agreement. Senhor Eduardo winced as she tugged on his hair.

  “I give up. Take all the time you want.” Gabi threw her hands in the air in defeat and settled down beside Deb and Sra Ana. “I’m glad I didn’t take after him and his stubbornness.”

  Deb spluttered on the mouthful of water she had just sipped, the drink spraying forth with gusto as she coughed. Sra Ana patted her on the back, looking at her earnest-faced daughter. “Yes, we are indeed lucky.”

  Gabi nodded happily at her mother’s comment. “The girls are waiting for us at the ranch. Frankie flies out tonight to meet up with Luciano. But she is super excited to welcome Grace home.”

  Deb’s forehead wrinkled as she watched Senhor Eduardo wage battle on the capsule. “Thank you for coming and getting me—us,” she corrected herself.

  Sra Ana reached an understanding hand to Deb, her eyes kind. “Deb, you and Grace are family. This is what family does. Now, if I had my way, you would be moving into the main house with that precious bebe where I could look after you both.”

  Gabi rolled her eyes. “Deb doesn’t need a mother hen hovering around. Anyway, Deb’s home is the bunkhouse with the rest of us. Isn’t that right?”

  “I am triumphant!” Senhor Eduardo proudly exclaimed. “Ladies, your chariot awaits.”

  “Finally,” Gabi said, giving her father a cheeky look.

  “So, it is my fault you have given me no grandbabies to practice on?”

  “That’s your comeback?” Gabi asked her father.

  “I forgive you for treating your mae and poor papai so badly. But Deb is now my favorite.” With a mischievous wink in Deb’s direction, he opened the truck door and ushered the women in.

  It was like looking through the lens of a camera. The scene laid before her was achingly familiar in an annoyingly disorientating way. The evocative aroma of the horses still pungent, the mundane sound of their movements chasing the quiet away. And yet none of it seemed the same as before, no longer the call of safety and home. Her overwhelmingly peculiar reaction to returning to the ranch struck Deb as bizarre. The epiphany hit hard as she trod the well-worn steps to the bunkhouse, the baby capsule heavy on her arm. Her steps were made heavy by the sudden comprehension that it wasn’t the ranch that had changed, but her.

  When she had first entered the barn over a year ago, she had been confident in her ability to handle anything life could throw her way. How naïve had she been? Now she doubted everything. It was as if she was a hollow shell, a caricature of the vivacious young woman she had been. Her only saving grace now was her daughter.

 
She was dimly aware of her friends chattering excitedly around her on the extreme edge of her periphery. It was as if they talked to her from another room. Her feet, unbidden, took her to the threshold of the nursery, the door swinging freely, silent on freshly oiled hinges. She stopped dead in her tracks.

  Inside, the late afternoon sun softly shone in, making golden puddles of light on the floor. The Holly Hobbie patterned curtains fluttered in the breeze. The rocking chair she never had quite managed to construct was in the corner, complete with a footrest. The shelf above, a new edition, displayed a pink teddy bear and a patchwork rag doll, against a backdrop of prancing carousal horse wallpaper. The little table beside it held a basket filled with wrapped cookies and dried fruits.

  “I read lactation cookies help with milk,” offered Megan. “And then I got Frankie to make some for you.” She grinned sheepishly. “‘Cause I wanted you to actually be able to eat them.”

  A pink throw rug hung over the backrest of the chair, matching the circular rug in the middle of the room perfectly. Pride of place was taken by the cradle Mitch had so lovingly crafted, now with a matching chest of drawers complete with a change table on top. As Deb ran her hand tentatively over the smooth sanded timber, a ringing sound began in her ears.

  “Mitch said the little cowgirl princess needed matching furniture,” Gabi offered.

  “Do you like it?” asked Frankie, sounding concerned.

  A heavy weight settled over Deb at the sight of perfection her friends had created. She hardly dared breath as if her very presence in the room would somehow tarnish the flawless composition. Abject despair robbed the last flicker of confidence she possessed. Her friends were able to create this for her daughter when she hadn’t even been able to assemble the rocking chair. Two fat tears rolled wordlessly down Deb’s face as the baby fussed in her arms.

  “Deb?”

  “I just—I need to get some air.” Deb bolted from the room, leaving dumbfounded silence in her wake.

  The plaintive wail of her baby fussing at the tears splashing down on her broke through Deb’s trance. She looked around, bewildered to have found herself outside Delila’s stall, the buckskin mare curiously snuffling at her salty face.

  A gentle hand touched her arm. “It can be overwhelming, motherhood. May I have a hold?”

  Deb looked up at Sra Ana’s softly understanding face, taken with how naturally she held Grace. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful. The nursery is beautiful. I don’t know what’s bloody wrong with me.” Her eyes beseeched the older woman for an answer. “I feel like I’m going mad.” She finished, miserable.

  “You have been through a lot since the birth of your daughter, and then the time in hospital. Nothing has been easy for you. Maybe you need to take your time and breathe.” Sra Ana swayed peacefully as she rocked the baby.

  “That’s the thing. I don’t know that I can. Sometimes I can’t even draw in air. I love Grace so much, but she doesn’t deserve a mother that’s such a mess.”

  “Deb, look at me.” She raised her downcast eyes to connect with Sra Ana’s wise and understanding ones. “What Grace needs is her mother. You are enough. And if you ever feel like you aren’t, remember you aren’t alone. She is surrounded by strong women who love her, and I would like to think Eduardo and I are her family too. There is also a certain farrier that I have noticed is rather taken with both her and her mother.” Fondness twinkled in her eyes.

  Deb struggled to form words over the stubbornly lodged lump of misery, her throat painfully constricted. As Sra Ana cooed at the baby, a picture of maternal contentment, her own sense of inadequacy was only further compounded. Balancing the baby in one arm, the older woman wordlessly put an arm around Deb. The sun gently slipped toward the horizon, casting long shadows over the little group. The girl sobbed as she was gently rocked in rhythm with her daughter.

  Deb swayed back and forth in the rocking chair, the soothing motion causing her eyes to partially close on the verge of drifting off into an exhausted sleep. Feeling Gracie’s weight become limp, she judged that she would soon be able to settle her into her cradle. Her friend’s words began to wash over her, soothing in their cadence

  “Sampson is due to cover Delila this week, if signs of cycling continue. How long are you going to be away this time?” Megan asked quietly.

  “Two weeks for this run,” Frankie replied softly. “Gabi will drive the horses to the next rodeo a couple of times while I fly off to see Luciano.”

  “I’ve been thinking…” Megan paused for a moment as if searching for the right words. “I can’t keep up with the horses in work here. Not long term, not with everything else I have to do. And I don’t think Deb will be coming back in any capacity for a while.”

  Frankie sighed heavily. “I don’t want to agree, but you’re right. Deb has to deal with whatever is going on right now and get healthy.” How could Frankie say that? How could any of them say that? None of them had kids, they didn’t understand what it was like to have a baby. “She needs to focus on Grace. I only have another two months left of hauling for the year, not that that really helps you right now. Leave it with me, and I’ll talk to Gabi about getting someone in to take some of the load off you. The problem will be finding the right person.”

  “Thanks, Frankie. Training has never really been my thing. Deb doesn’t mind it, but neither of us are like you.”

  “And I’m not around enough at the moment to be of much help,” Frankie added.

  “That’s not what I meant. You’re out there on the road getting the ranch’s name on the map. You’re doing your job.”

  “I know that’s not what you meant, but it’s how I feel. Like, right now, I need to be here, rather than out there.”

  Did Frankie really believe she needed to look after her? Did she think that she was that bad a mother that she needed to watch over her? The betrayal Deb felt at Frankie’s words left a bitter taste in her mouth. Gently, she rose to her feet and laid Grace down in her cradle. She choked back a sob. Even her friends thought she was a burden—just another thing they needed to try and fit into their perfect lives.

  A knock interrupted her line of thought. Outside, she could hear someone padding over to the door.

  “Gabi, since when did you start knocking?” Frankie’s voice called out, followed by the creak of the door opening.

  “Well, hello, darlin’. Did you miss me?” Deb felt her jaw drop open in surprise, she knew that voice anywhere—Tucker Brown.

  Chapter 11

  “Well, did you?”

  Deb felt like she had stepped into a real-life movie as entered the room. A single glance showed her Frankie, nostrils flared, shutting her mouth with an audible clink, and Tucker Brown grinning insolently, one hand holding the door frame. Appearing to gather her wits, she swung the door hard as if to make the vision before her disappear. Tucker’s hand slammed into the wood as he stopped it, making each of the girls jump in alarm.

  He pushed it open forcefully, stepping into the room. “Now, what sort of welcome is that to a new father?”

  “Grace was born six weeks ago. Anyway, weren’t you the one who didn’t want anything to do with her? You have some hide showing up here after how you have treated Deb.” Color suffused Frankie’s face, her finger jabbing into the air between them. Megan stepped closer, blocking any further access into the room.

  “Let him in.”

  Both girls swung around in confusion at Deb’s soft command. “Deb, you don’t owe him anything,” Megan began, still not moving from her protective position.

  “I know, but he deserves to meet his daughter. Can you guys give us a minute?”

  “That’s the Deb I remember, always wanting what I’m offering,” Tucker sneered.

  The sleezy look of triumph Tucker sent toward Frankie clearly made her blood simmer, her rage barely contained below the surface. She took a deep breath, attempting to gain control. “We’ll be outside if you need us.” At Deb’s vacant nod, she closed the door, leavi
ng it slightly ajar, just to be on the safe side.

  “I don’t like this. He’s shonky as,” Megan whispered.

  “I’ll be stuffed if I’m just going to leave Deb at his mercy. You stay here. I’m going to get Senhor Eduardo,” Frankie declared as she stormed off.

  Deb stood woodenly, her face blank as if she had not just overheard every word her friends had uttered. “What changed? Why do you want to see your daughter now?” she asked flatly. She was curiously numb to whatever his answer might be.

  Tucker stepped forward, grabbing both of her upper arms insistently, a world of insincere regrets on full display. “I’ve made mistakes. A lot of them. But darlin’, I realized that the best thing for you is to have me here.”

  “Oh.”

  He gripped her arms more tightly. “I think we need to do this for our daughter. I want to try and be a family. What do you think?”

  The curiously numb feeling continued to hold Deb in its thrall, almost comforting in its embrace. “I think you should meet your daughter.”

  Senhor Eduardo barged into the room, Sra Ana, Frankie, Gabi, and Megan hot on his heels. He came to an abrupt halt as he sighted Tucker. “And you are the father? Am I right in guessing that?”

  “Yeah, boy. I’m the one that knocked her up.” He swaggered over, hand extended.

  Senhor Eduardo looked coldly down, his mouth pursed in distaste. Leaving the proffered hand hanging, he stepped around him to Deb. “Do you want him here?”

  “He’s Grace’s father,” she replied robotically, not meeting his eye. “He’ll probably be around a lot more getting to know her. Us.”

  Tucker smiled smugly at the outraged group. “Well, looks like we’re all going to be one big happy family.”