A Baby of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #1)(66)
Author: Brenda Novak

As she rambled on about how marvelous it had been to participate in the process, Delaney let her mind drift—as usual—to Conner. She loved it when he held her and made love to her and slept in her arms. His presence in her life fulfilled her like nothing she’d ever experienced, far more than being a single parent ever could, she thought. Sometimes she’d just sit and daydream about the way he smelled. And the way he moved. And the way his eyes closed and his lips parted when she—

“Earth to Delaney,” Isaiah said, interrupting her reverie.

Delaney blinked and looked over at him.

“How long is it going to take before you stop with all the silly smiling?” he asked, and the others laughed.

“I was thinking about the baby,” she lied. She stood up to rinse the dishes so she could hide her blush, but Conner came in at that moment and any embarrassment she felt was instantly lost in the hope that today would be the day he acknowledged her outside the bedroom. Just a smile or a meaningful glance or a quick kiss on the temple…Anything to tell her he cared about her, that the relationship developing between them wasn’t just sexual.

She dried her hands and made him a plate of scrambled eggs, ham and toast. Her heart was in her throat when she gave it to him. But he didn’t even look up. He spoke to Roy about some missing cattle, took a chair at the table and ate. Then he told the cowboys he’d meet them outside and started toward the back door.

“Conner?” Delaney said, catching him before he could leave.

He turned and Delaney felt everyone else’s eyes on her, too. She suddenly wished she’d kept her mouth shut. It was stupid to push him for more than he was willing to give. But now that she’d drawn his attention, she had to say something. “I—I have a doctor’s appointment later. I thought maybe you’d like to go with me and meet him.”

“Sorry,” he said with scarcely a pause. “I can’t make it today.” He went outside and the door banged shut behind him.

Isaiah met Delaney’s eyes, his expression one of empathy, and she hated that he understood the hurt Conner had so carelessly inflicted. She wanted to leave and avoid the awkward silence that had settled over the room, but she refused to be that much of a coward. Keeping her back straight and her head high, she accepted each cowboy’s dirty plate with a smile and wished them all a good day as they filed out.

But Isaiah didn’t go. He lagged behind, and when Dottie—whistling obliviously to herself, probably thinking about her new grandbaby—went into the pantry, he touched her arm.

“He’ll come around, Delaney,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

“Sure he will,” she responded. But she wasn’t so sure. Isaiah didn’t know about Boise.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

LIFE AT THE RUNNING Y was peaceful enough during the next few weeks. Conner left before Delaney woke in the mornings, stayed out on the ranch most of the day, then buried himself in his office at night, working until ten, eleven, sometimes twelve o’clock. Delaney tried to get involved in his work so she could relieve some of the pressure. She knew he’d purchased the ranch from his family, understood that he was fighting desperately to save the home he loved. But he insisted everything was fine and wouldn’t share his burdens with her. If she asked what was on his mind, he’d say nothing or tell her not to worry. That was it.

So she turned her attention to cleaning blinds and baseboards and organizing closets, since Dottie was back to manage the kitchen and the chickens, dogs and goats. If Conner wasn’t going to let her share his load or give her any responsibilities, she’d find some other way to make herself useful.

But soon every nook and cranny in the whole house was sparkling clean, and she had nothing to do but plant a garden. Dottie’s knees bothered her; she couldn’t bend and weed or plant, so Delaney gratefully took over the small plot of earth just outside the back door and spent a great deal of time reading books about gardening. As the days of June passed and the baby’s movements became more obvious, she planted tomatoes, corn and zucchini, peas and carrots, and some bulb flowers she’d found for sale in a magazine—dahlias she’d ordered from Denmark. All the while, she hoped that once Conner grew used to her presence, used to the idea of having a wife, he’d let go of the grudge he held against her.

But he remained as aloof and reserved as the day she’d married him. He was still coming to her at night. He made love to her often and was gentle and kind and generous during those times. But when morning came, he gave the ranch everything he had without sparing so much as a thought for her.

With a sigh, Delaney rocked back on her heels. A strand of hair had fallen from the sloppy knot on top of her head and tickled her face, but her hands were covered with dirt, so she shoved the stand back with a forearm. She’d been planting since just after breakfast, and her garden was growing—but so was her belly, which made it difficult to bend over for long.

“Don’t overdo,” Dottie called, passing by as she threw last night’s table scraps to Champ and Sundance. Delaney had fenced them out of her garden with three-foot wire.

“I’m not,” Delaney replied, but she had to pause a little longer to ease the ache in her back.

“Rebecca called,” Dottie said. “She told me she’s planting watermelons with you today.”

Delaney smiled. Rebecca had never planted anything in her life, not even a small garden like the one Delaney had weeded for Aunt Millie and Uncle Ralph when she was a teenager, but she’d thrown herself into Delaney’s new love with unexpected enthusiasm. She came out to the ranch often, and together they weeded and planted. Or Delaney met her in town and they went to Boise to buy Rebecca’s wedding dress, search for the perfect bridal bouquet or gather ideas for the caterers.

“Did she say if she had to work later?” Delaney asked.

“I’m afraid not. But she said she’s found something else for the nursery. You want me to bring you the cordless phone so you can call her back?”

“No, she’ll be here soon. But thanks.”

The screen door slammed shut and Dottie disappeared, leaving Delaney alone in the mellow midday sun. A butterfly hovered at the end of the row of peas Delaney was planting, and Sundance and Champ barked and growled in the grass not far away, wrestling over the beef bones Dottie had given them. But neither the peacefulness of such a lovely setting nor the knowledge that Rebecca was on her way could lift Delaney’s spirits. She had another doctor’s appointment at four o’clock and had made a point of asking Conner, once again, to accompany her. He’d mumbled something noncommittal and left the house early, and since she hadn’t heard any more, she doubted he planned to join her. Again.