Baby My Baby
Autore
Victoria Pade
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Baby My Baby Beth was a strong, stubborn ranching woman — a Heller through and through. Asher Blackwolf was a breathtaking, maddening Sioux male. And together they'd once made magic, made the earth move. Yet now their passionate marriage was over, their precious dreams in ashes. All save the new spark of life unexpectedly swelling Beth's belly.... But could one tiny baby possibly bring headstrong Beth to her senses — and her proud, beloved Blackwolf to his knees?
Prologue
Standing at her bedroom window in her family home, Beth Heller looked out over the swimming pool and the reunion that was going on below. Her brother Linc and her old friend Kansas Daye had clearly patched up the differences that had made their private rocky road to love a bumpy ride. Their feelings for each other were so apparent there was almost an aura surrounding them, and seeing it made Beth’s heart ache like a bad tooth.
Only one thing could have them coming together so exuberantly—Kansas must have accepted Linc’s proposal. No doubt there would be a wedding coming up.
Beth was glad for her brother. She knew how much he cared for Kansas and how worried he’d been that she might turn him down.
It was nice to see that some people did have happy endings.
Even if Beth wasn’t one of them.
As she watched, Linc’s three-year-old son, Danny, insinuated himself between his father and Kansas, wrapping a possessive arm around each of them.
The little boy’s sweetness made Beth smile. It reminded her that her own ending hadn’t been completely bad.
One good thing had come out of it.
One very good thing.
With that in mind, she pushed away from the window and went to sit on the bed, pulling the telephone into her lap.
But her hand stalled on the receiver as a terrible temptation washed through her.
What if she didn’t tell him?
He might never know if she didn’t.
They probably wouldn’t see each other again. After all, there wasn’t any reason for their paths to cross, since they hardly moved in similar circles. And without anyone in Elk Creek knowing him, chances were no rumors would reach him.
Of course, it was remotely possible Cele would tell him. But Beth doubted it. Technically, as her physician, Cele couldn’t divulge confidential information unless Beth gave her permission to, and she didn’t think the doctor would break that trust even though she was Ash’s friend, too.
But as the temptation grew to keep the information to herself, so did the nudge of her conscience.
“It wouldn’t be right,” she told herself out loud. Then she added as firmly as if she were ordering someone else to perform a dreaded task, “You have to tell him, so do it and get it over with.”
She took a deep breath and forced herself to pick up the phone, punching in the number she’d dialed far too many times lately.
“Just this once, be there,” she whispered as she listened to each interminable ring.
“Blackwolf Foundation,” the secretary answered.
Beth swallowed hard. “Hi, Miss Lightfeather, this is Beth again,” she managed, giving no indication that her insides were tied in knots.
“Hello, Mrs. Blackwolf,” came the aloof response, announcing loudly the other woman’s feelings that Beth was an interloper.
She considered reminding her former husband’s secretary that she’d taken back her maiden name after the divorce, but she didn’t. And she didn’t bother with amenities, either. It would be a useless effort, she knew from long experience. Instead she plunged in. “I’m still trying to connect with Ash. Is he there now by any chance?”
“No, he isn’t. And I’m afraid I haven’t given him your messages. He’s been even more busy than usual and has had a great deal on his mind.”
“Nothing new there,” Beth muttered to herself.
If the secretary heard her, she didn’t acknowledge it. Instead she went on imperiously. “He’s been called away to Alaska to see if the foundation can help in the defense of an Indian boy in trouble up there.”
Beth doubted that any phone line in that great snowy north had more icicles forming along it than the one she was on at that moment. But she tried to ignore the arctic chill from the other end. “How long will he be there?”
“He’s not coming straight home. He has to go to a seminar he agreed to do at Harvard on Native Americans, after which he’s meeting with the head of Indian Affairs in Washington before he attends a joint tribal conference in South Dakota.”
Old frustrations flooded Beth, leaving her weary and sad and even angry. But she didn’t let any of it sound in her voice. “Maybe you should give me some phone numbers where I could try to reach him.”
“Is it an emergency?” the formidable secretary asked.
“No. But it is very important that I talk to him.”
“It would be best to wait until he gets back here to the reservation.”
Was that a polite way to say she had orders not to give Beth the numbers, or did the protective Miss Lightfeather just not want her to have them? Beth didn’t care to push it and discover the worst.
“Yes. I suppose it would be better to wait,” she said on a sigh, dreading the idea of the delay. Ash might not be home for weeks.
“Was there anything else?” the secretary asked after a moment.
“No. Thanks anyway.”
Beth hung up, wishing fervently—as she had each time this had happened—that she’d actually reached her ex-husband so she could have told him what she needed to and could finally put this behind her. For that was what she wanted more than anything—not to have to think about it anymore. Not to have to think about Ash anymore, or how he’d react.
Or how she’d bear hearing his voice again...
Then, as if in answer to that, her gaze settled on the desk in the corner of the room, and a new thought occurred to her.
She could write him a letter.
Why hadn’t she considered that before? Certainly it seemed like the perfect solution. Getting hold of him was nearly impossible anyway, whether he was on the reservation or not. Writing would give her the relief of knowing she’d gotten it off her chest, and at the same time, she’d have the opportunity to choose her words, to make sure she conveyed just the right tone, just the right message.
Writing would let her keep her distance.
She went to the desk, sat down and took stationery and a pen from the drawer, wondering how exactly to begin.
“Dear Ash,” she wrote in an unsteady hand.
Her mouth was dry and she considered going downstairs for something to drink. But she knew she was just procrastinating. And once more the terrible temptation not to tell him at all crossed her mind.
She set her teeth against it and put pen to paper with the determination of the damned.
I’ve been trying to reach you since before I left the reservation, but because I haven’t had any luck, I thought I’d just drop you a note.
First, it’s important for you to understand that I’m not writing because anything needs to change between us. I just thought you should know.
In a few months you’re going to be a father...
