Baby's First Homecoming (8 page)

Just when things started to really heat up, he abruptly withdrew. She almost lost her balance, and a startled sound escaped her.

A low groan escaped him. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Yeah, and she shouldn’t have turned into mush the instant their lips touched. What was wrong with her?

He studied her with a piercing stare that split her apart and, she was convinced, revealed every one of her secrets.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was just a kiss.”

“Right.”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. Clay wasn’t going to learn how much the kiss had affected her.

His satisfied grin infuriated her. She was half inclined to tell him she’d changed her mind about everything, the casita, the job, the custody agreement, then she instantly reconsidered.

The better course of action would be not to lose her head again. She could do that. Keep their relationship strictly professional and avoid him as much as possible.

“See you tomorrow night.” His voice was low and slightly husky and reminded her of other kisses shared beneath shimmering moonlight.

“What time are you coming by?” she asked with a not-that-I-care demeanor.

“I figured we’d meet up at the rehearsal dinner.”

Shoot, she’d forgotten about the dinner. Well, it couldn’t be helped. She’d agreed to attend even though she wasn’t officially a part of the ceremony. Both Sage and Caitlin had offered to make her a bridesmaid, but Sierra had declined, preferring to watch Jamie and assist with the reception.

“See you there.”

His gaze glided over her, slow and hungry. “You don’t have to walk me to my truck.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Of all the nerve.

He lowered his head.

For one wild second, she thought he was going to kiss her again. Her body ignored the directives her brain screamed at her and slowly drifted toward him.

“Jamie’s crying.”

She was so distracted by Clay’s breath caressing her neck, what he said made no sense. “Excuse me?”

“Jamie. He’s awake.”

She listened and heard faint crying coming from inside the house. It galvanized her. “I’d better go.”

With a final glance at Clay, she scurried inside and to the bedroom, hoping the noise hadn’t woken up the rest of the house.

Jamie stood in the portable crib, clinging to the side, tears spilling from his eyes and red splotches on his cheeks.

“Sorry, baby.” She lifted him into her arms and pressed him to her, alternately bouncing him in her arms and swaying back and forth. The wailing continued. Worsened.

How long had he been carrying on before Clay heard him? Sierra couldn’t believe she’d been so wrapped up in their kiss she’d ignored her child’s cries.

Then again…

She shivered at the memory of Clay’s lips parting hers.

This absolutely had to stop! Jamie was her first and only concern.

“Definitely, positively, that is never going to happen again,” she vowed aloud.

Aware of the sudden quiet, she peered down at Jamie. He’d stopped his fussing, and his hazel eyes stared fixedly at her as if he didn’t buy a single word she said.

* * *

“
W
HO
WAS
HERE
?” Sierra’s father stood in the bedroom doorway.

“Clay.” At the mention of his name, a warm flush crept up her neck to her face. “Did Jamie wake you with his crying?”

Or, had her father been up already and seen her and Clay kissing?

Please, no!

“I was reading.”

Whew!

Her father came into the room and smiled fondly at Jamie, who was fighting sleep tooth and nail. “Kind of late for a visit. What did Clay want?”

“He was looking for Ethan.”

“Like I said, kind of late.”

“He was upset. I guess he saw Bud and told him about Jamie. They got into some kind of argument.”

“About Jamie? Of all the—”

“It had more to do with Bud selling our land and his parents’ divorce.”

“For the love of God! Why are they still rehashing that?”

Sierra thought her father’s outburst a bit much but dismissed it. Between the wedding and her return, everyone’s emotions were running a little high.

“Clay asked me if Bud ever gave you an opportunity to buy back the land before he sold it.”

“What did you tell him?” There was no mistaking the apprehension in her father’s voice.

“That Bud didn’t give you
any
opportunities.”

“Good. Because he didn’t.”

“Well, whatever Bud told Clay must have been pretty upsetting for him to drive out here at this time of night.”

“He’ll say anything to get out of taking responsibility for what he did to us. I hope Clay’s smart enough not to be suckered in.”

“I’m sure he is. Why else would the two of them have been at odds all these years?”

“If he wants to be part of this family, he’d better stay clear of Bud. I mean it.”

Would her father really cut out his grandson’s father from their lives?

“I think he’s trying to mend broken bridges.”

“No point in that.”

“Really, Dad? Isn’t that what
we’re
doing?”

“It’s different.”

Sierra didn’t agree. Bud Duvall had done a terrible thing to her family, but he’d also done one very kind and generous thing. He’d given them another fifteen months with her mother they wouldn’t have had without the loan of his money for her heart-transplant surgery.

“I don’t want Duvall coming to the wedding.”

“He wouldn’t dare. And Clay wouldn’t dare invite him.”

Her father grumbled to himself.

“Don’t you think it’s time to put the past to rest? For Jamie, and all your grandchildren.”

Not that Sierra was ready to forgive Bud Duvall, but her own actions these last two years, her neglect of her family and their willingness to welcome her back with open arms, had given her a new perspective.

She might feel differently if her family was still on the brink of financial ruin instead of owning two thriving businesses, her brothers getting married and expanding their families.

“He took advantage of me at the lowest point in my life.”

Sierra sighed softly. Continuing the discussion was useless. Her father harbored too much anger.

She lowered Jamie into the portable crib, and he went instantly to sleep. “This teething ordeal is awful.”

“Ethan was the worst of you three.”

“Seriously? He’s always been so easygoing.”

“Not when it came to teething or the terrible twos.”

She followed her father to the door, glad to see him back to his old self. “I have something to tell you. I’ve decided to move into Clay’s casita.”

“Makes sense.”

His underwhelming reaction wasn’t what she’d expected, considering how adamantly he’d supported the idea over dinner earlier.

“I’m moving as soon as the joint-custody agreement is finalized.”

“Why the wait?”

“There are still some details we have to agree on first. And, besides, I don’t want to be moving in the middle of the wedding.”

“It probably sounds strange, a father encouraging his unmarried daughter to live with a man.”

“Not
with
him, Dad. In the casita.” The difference was important to her.

“In the casita,” he repeated and smiled. “Much as I’m going to miss you, you’re making the right decision.”

Was she? If not, it was going to be one very long year.

“Good night.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed her father’s cheek.

“Sleep tight, honey.” He started to leave, then stopped in midstep. “Promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“If Clay does reconcile with Bud, and he starts hanging around Clay’s place, don’t talk to him.”

“You know I wouldn’t.”

“Okay. See you in the morning.”

She shut the door behind him, concern stealing over her.

Why had her father felt the need to extract a promise from her?

More worryingly, why had he refused to meet her gaze while doing it?

Chapter Eight

Sierra sat in the front row, Jamie perched on her lap, the fingers of one hand dangling a newly purchased plush toy in front of him. The fingers of her other hand were tightly crossed and had been for the last thirty minutes.

Please, please, don’t cry.

All through the ceremony, Jamie had behaved beautifully. That could change in an instant. She’d hate for his wails to disrupt what had turned out to be a simple yet charmingly perfect country wedding.

The brides and grooms were exchanging their vows in the front courtyard of the Powell family home. Boughs from the paloverde and desert willow trees stretched out like reaching arms, providing a natural arch beneath which the wedding party stood. A golden afternoon sun glowed warmly, prompting several of the men to shed their suit jackets.

Two hundred white metal chairs had been rented and arranged to face a stunning view of Mustang Valley, at the heart of which lay Mustang Village. It was a fitting backdrop for the wedding ceremony. Mustang Valley had once belonged to the Powells, and even though civilization had encroached in recent years, the land would always belong to them in spirit.

More accurately, to her father and brothers. Sierra was still searching for where she truly belonged. She’d lived two-thirds of her life in Mustang Valley, and yet San Francisco felt more like home to her. She missed it. Her friends, too, and her job and even her tiny apartment.

On Monday, two days from now, she and her son would be moving into Clay’s casita. She had yet to ship her personal belongings and furniture from San Francisco, preferring to “wait and see.” In fact, she, her father and Gavin had gotten into a disagreement about it yesterday morning. They wanted her to have everything shipped now, make her return to Arizona permanent. Sierra had resisted, causing the argument to end in a stalemate.

On Tuesday, she’d start working for Clay at the rodeo arena. Mostly, she was terrified. She was also excited. About the job, not the move.

Living in close proximity to Clay worried her. She hadn’t been able to fully suppress the fluttering in her middle that had started with their kiss the other night. How much worse would it get when she was sharing meals with him and passing him in the hall on the way to the laundry room?

Shifting Jamie to her other knee, she observed Clay from her place next to her father.

The two best men, Clay and Conner, another childhood friend of her brothers’, wore black jeans, black Stetsons and bright turquoise Western shirts. Despite the casualness of his clothes, Clay looked handsome and mouthwateringly sexy. So much so, Sierra had to force herself to gaze at the brides and grooms.

Both women had chosen traditional white gowns, minus long trains. Sage’s was high-waisted in order to draw attention away from her pregnancy. Gavin and Ethan, gorgeous in their black Western-style suits, couldn’t take their eyes off their respective brides.

Isa stood by her mother and Cassie stood by her father. The girls wore matching turquoise dresses. Isa clutched the basket that had contained rose petals. She’d taken her job as flower girl very seriously and remained absolutely still, as she’d been instructed to do all last week. Cassie was the one fidgeting. When asked if she’d wanted to be a second bridesmaid for Sage, she had refused, opting instead to be the ring bearer. Her father had agreed but only if Cassie wore a dress. It was a compromise. She definitely preferred denim to taffeta.

Sierra’s emotions, already riding close to the surface on this special day, overflowed, and she dabbed at her tears. She had always dreamed of a wedding like this. Not the country theme as much as having family and friends gathered in one place to witness the joining of two hearts, together forever.

She felt an invisible tug and lifted her head to find Clay staring at her, his expression unreadable. And then, suddenly, it wasn’t. She saw longing and desire and a need that pierced her with its intensity.

No, she must be mistaken. He didn’t want her like that.

She glanced quickly away, shaken by the raw power of his gaze. When she turned back a moment later, his attention was on the minister, giving her reason to suspect she’d allowed her imagination to run amuck.

“Gentlemen,” the minister boomed, his crinkly smile taking over his entire face, “you may kiss your brides.”

That was all the encouragement her brothers needed. While Gavin cradled Sage’s cheeks tenderly between his hands and brushed his lips across hers, Ethan bent Caitlin backward over his arm and planted a toe-curling kiss on her mouth. The guests broke into cheers and applause.

Sierra leaned down and rubbed her temple against Jamie’s. “Uncle Gavin and Uncle Ethan just got married.”

“May I present Mr. and Mrs. Gavin Powell and Mr. and Mrs. Ethan Powell.”

More applause accompanied the minister’s pronouncement. Jamie joined in, squawking and clapping his hands. The wedding recession began, and the couples left the courtyard to the music of an acoustic guitar. The best men and maids of honor followed in the wake of the brides and grooms.

Connor had been matched up with Sage’s cousin, Clay with Caitlin’s roommate from nursing school. The woman was strikingly beautiful, with wavy brunette hair that cascaded down her back. Sierra tried not to think of what an attractive couple she and Clay made. How the woman’s slim arm linked possessively with his. About the two of them chatting up a storm at last night’s rehearsal dinner.

“You ready?” Her father pushed to his feet, his eyes misty. He’d mentioned several times today how much he wished Sierra’s mother was there.

She stood, holding on to Jamie, and the three of them went down the aisle after the brides’ families.

“I’m going to the kitchen to see if I can help with the food.” A popular Mexican restaurant had been hired to provide the catering.

“You can’t,” her dad said, dragging her and Jamie through the house. “We have pictures to take.”

Outside, the wedding party gathered in the open area between the house and the stables. With three families involved, there were a lot of people. Someone had laid out a large green indoor/outdoor carpet where the photos would be taken. Rental chairs were brought over for those who wanted to sit.

One of the Powells’ wranglers led over Prince, the wild mustang her brothers and Clay had captured. The horse took one look at the brides in their billowing dresses and balked, snorting loudly.

“What are they doing with Prince?” Sierra asked her neighbor.

It was Clay who answered. He was, she noticed, minus Caitlin’s maid of honor. “Your brothers decided they wanted him in some of the photos.”

“I don’t think Prince is on board with the idea.”

“You could be right.”

They watched and waited from a safe distance while Gavin and Ethan tried to calm the horse. It was a slow process. Sierra regretted not grabbing one of the empty chairs.

She was acutely aware of Clay. His height. His breadth. The rugged strength beneath his polished exterior. His undeniable sex appeal.

“I get that Prince played a part in bringing Gavin and Ethan together with their wives, but this might be going a touch overboard.”

“What can I say? Your brothers are hopeless romantics.”

“
My
brothers?” She gaped at Clay. “You have got to be kidding.”

They both laughed. Sierra stopped abruptly when she caught Ethan staring at them, a knowing smile on his face.

Jamie chose that moment to start fussing.

“Hush now, baby.” She wiggled the plush toy in front of him. He’d been so good. If not for the pictures, she’d put him down for a nap.

“You want me to take him for a bit?” Clay offered.

“Do you mind?”

“Are you kidding?”

Her arms were getting tired, and maybe a change would perk Jamie up. Prince was finally cooperating, and the photographer, a pretty young woman, was hurriedly snapping shots of him, Sierra’s brothers and the brides.

Jamie, as always, delighted in going to his father. He immediately grabbed at Clay’s hat.

“Later, buddy. When we’re done with the pictures.”

Finally, the wrangler led Prince away, or was it the other way around? The photographer began calling out groupings. Clay, as best man, was in more shots than Sierra and Jamie. The minutes dragged on and on. Soon, Jamie started crying and nothing Sierra attempted quieted him.

Just when she thought they were done and she could leave, Clay put an arm around her shoulder.

“Can you take one of the three of us?” he asked the photographer.

“Certainly.”

“Jamie’s tired,” Sierra protested. “And crying.”

“This won’t take long,” Clay insisted.

“Can we do it later?”

“The photographer is leaving.”

“I’d love a picture with Jamie, too,” Blythe said. “Maybe one with Wayne and I and Jamie.”

“Good idea!” Clay agreed.

Sierra fumed. This was the side of Clay she liked the least. The pushy one.

Unable to refuse without making a scene, she allowed the photographer to take several shots of them in different poses. Jamie cried in every one. When Clay suggested a shot with all “the men”—him, Jamie, Sierra’s brothers and father—she reached her boiling point.

“Clay, it’s time for Jamie’s nap.”

“One more.”

Was this a preview of what it would be like when she and Clay shared custody of Jamie?

She allowed one more photo. When it was over, she wrenched Jamie from Clay much as he’d done to her before, and started for the house.

“Sierra—”

“He needs a nap, I need a rest and they’re getting ready to serve the food.”

Clay started after her only to stop when someone called his name. Good. Hopefully, he got the message. He wasn’t the only one in charge.

Was it too late to change her mind about the casita and the job?

Probably. She’d signed the custody agreement yesterday, along with the employment contract.

Escaping to her bedroom, she hastily changed Jamie and settled him in the portable crib, the plush toy beside him. Jamie protested loudly for about ninety seconds, then fell into an exhausted sleep.

Sierra sat on the edge of the bed, only to stand up again. She should be out there, mingling with guests, helping in the kitchen. Jamie would be fine without her. She really did hover excessively. Checking on him again, she stepped outside the room—and breathed. She was going to be okay. She couldn’t leave the house without Jamie, but she could leave the room.

After visiting with a few old friends, she busied herself helping old Mrs. Ruesga serve up enchiladas and tamales while simultaneously protecting the three-tiered wedding cake from curious youngsters.

Cassie and Isa burst into the kitchen. “We’re hungry,” they said in unison.

The rest of the wedding party wasn’t far behind. Clay came in last, Caitlin’s maid of honor adhered to his side.

Hmm.

“Can I fix you a plate?” Sierra asked her brand-new sisters-in-law.

“I’m too excited to eat,” Caitlin exclaimed.

“I’m not.” Sage patted her stomach. “And don’t be stingy.”

After the initial rush of hungry guests slowed, Sierra and the other helpers began clearing tables.

“Cassie,” she called. “Would you mind giving us a hand?”

“With what?” A hint of teenage attitude laced Cassie’s voice.

“Take this empty garbage bag and go through the house, collecting trash.”

Huffing impatiently, she grabbed the bag from Sierra.

“Did I say something to upset you?” She thought she got along well with her niece. She’d certainly made an effort since coming home.

“Nope.” Cassie spun on her heels and left.

Sierra’s first inclination was to do nothing. Cassie was probably in a mood brought on by all the excitement. Perhaps she was jealous of her new stepmother and all the attention Sage was getting.

On second thought, what kind of aunt would Sierra be if she didn’t attempt to find out what was bothering the girl?

She went in search of Cassie and found her in the hall.

“Cassie, sweetie, what’s wrong?”

She said nothing and dropped an empty plastic cup in the garbage bag.

“Come on. Talk to me.”

To her surprise, Cassie whirled on her. “You’re going to leave again.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“I heard you yesterday morning with Grandpa and my dad. You won’t have your junk shipped here because you’re not sure you’re staying.”

“Sweetie, that’s not the reason.” Except it was. Somehow Cassie had figured out Sierra wasn’t quite ready to put down roots.

“You hurt Grandpa. And my dad and Uncle Ethan, and you’re going to do it again.”

Cassie stormed off, leaving Sierra all alone to face the small gathering of stunned wedding guests.

* * *

“
S
HE
DOESN
’
T
MEAN
IT
.”