Sherryl Woods - The Cowboy and the New Year's Baby

“Hey, where’d you go?” the doctor asked gently.

Back to a place she hoped never to set foot in again, Trish thought to herself. “Sorry. I guess my mind wandered for a minute. What were we talking about?”

“Naming your baby.”

“Of course.” She thought of the man who’d helped her. He might have been caught off guard. He might not have wanted any part of the crisis she had thrust him into, but he’d pulled through for her. She and her baby were fine, thanks to him. “Do you happen to know the man who brought me in?” she asked the doctor.

“Sure. He works at my father’s ranch.” She chuckled. “I’ve got to tell you I’ve never seen a man so relieved to get to a hospital in my life.”

“What’s his name?”

“Hardy Jones. I’m not sure where the nickname comes from. I’ve heard Daddy say it has to be short for hardheaded because he’s resisted every single attempt that’s been made to get him married off. You’d have to know my father to understand how annoying he finds that. He’s not happy unless he’s matchmaking and he’s not ecstatic unless it’s paying off.”

“Well, I certainly can’t name the baby that,” Trish said, disappointed. “Do I have to decide right now?”

“No, indeed. We’ll need it before you leave the hospital, but it can wait. You take your time and think it over. Get some rest now. I’ll be back to check on you later, and the nurses will bring the baby in soon so you can feed her.”

Trish lay back against the pillows and let her eyes drift shut. The image that came to mind wasn’t of her baby, but of the cowboy who’d delivered her.

“Hardy,” she murmured on a sigh. A strong man with a gentle touch. She could still feel the caress of his work-roughened hands as he’d helped her in one of the most terrifying, extraordinary, wondrous moments of her life. No matter what happened in all the years that stretched ahead, she would never forget him, never forget the miracle they’d shared.

“Hey, Hardy, I hear you’re a gen-u-ine hero,” one of the men taunted at the bunkhouse the next morning. Hardy grimaced and concentrated on spooning his oatmeal into his mouth.

“Yes, indeed, our boy has delivered himself a baby girl by the side of the road,” another man said. “Is that some new technique of courting that I missed? No wonder I’m still crawling into a cold bed all alone at night.”

“Oh, go to blazes,” Hardy snapped, sensing that there was no let-up to the teasing in sight. He grabbed his coat off the back of the chair and stormed out of the bunkhouse.

It had been like this ever since the word of his good deed had spread at dawn. He’d barely crawled into his bed, when it had been time to crawl out again. Lack of sleep had left him testy. By the time everyone had come back in from their chores for breakfast, he’d been the nonstop subject of their good-natured taunts. Even the untalkative Sweeney had thrown out a sly comment while he’d dished up the oatmeal.

Outside, Hardy drew in a deep breath and tried to clear his lungs of the smoke that permeated the dining room.

“Hardy, could I have a word with you?” Cody Adams called out, poking his head out the door of his office and beckoning for Hardy to come inside.

Hardy walked over and followed his boss into the cluttered office, wondering what his boss wanted to discuss. For the last year or so Cody had let his son, Harlan Patrick, deal with the hands more often than not. Cody ran the business side of things, analyzing the market for beef on his computer, determining the best time to take the cattle to market, tracking down the best new bulls for breeding. Harlan Patrick knew the land and the herd. He knew which men he could rely on and which were capable, but lacked initiative. He and his father had arrived at a division of labor that suited them.

“Congratulations! I hear you delivered a baby girl last night,” Cody said, proving right off that the conversation had nothing to do with ranch business. “Did a right fine job of it from what Lizzy tells us.”

“Lizzy had no business blabbing,” he grumbled. “I just did what had to be done. Dropped mother and child off at the hospital, and that was the end of it.”

“I’m sure that’s how you see it, but the new mama’s mighty grateful. Lizzy phoned a little while ago and said she’d like you to come see her. If you’d like, take the morning off and drive on over to the hospital.”

The very idea of seeing the woman again panicked him. He’d felt too much while he was delivering that baby—powerful, unfamiliar emotions that his bachelor’s instincts for self-preservation recognized as way too risky. “I can’t ask the men to take on my chores,” he hedged, grasping at straws. “We’re short, anyway, because a couple of the men aren’t back from their holiday break.”

“I’ll pitch in,” Cody said. “I still have a rough idea of how things work around here. Go on. Let the lady deliver her thanks in person. Get another look at that baby. Wouldn’t mind getting a peek at her myself. Did you ever hear how my brother Luke delivered Jessie’s baby, when she turned up on his doorstep in the middle of a blizzard?”

Oh, he’d heard it, all right. It was the stuff of Adams legends. Every man on the ranch had heard that story. He also knew how it had ended, with Luke and Jessie married. That ending was warning enough to him. He wasn’t about to risk such an outcome by spending a minute more than necessary with the woman whose baby he’d delivered. He ran a finger around his collar, as if he could already feel the marital noose tightening around his neck.

“I’ve heard,” he said tightly.

Cody chuckled at his reaction. “I suppose a bachelor like you would find that scary, seeing how they ended up married. Well, you go on over to the hospital just the same. Take your time. With so little sleep, you won’t be much use around here, anyway. Besides, you deserve a break after what you went through last night.”

No, what he deserved was to have his head examined, he thought as he reluctantly climbed into his truck and headed toward Garden City. He was asking for trouble. He could feel it in his bones.

As if the reaction at the ranch wasn’t bad enough, he was greeted like a hero by the staff in the emergency room, too. The response made him queasy, especially since he’d dated quite a few of the admiring women in there at one time or another. Thanks to that paperwork he’d filled out, he figured half of them were speculating on just how close he was to the new mother. The other half were probably hoping this would make him more susceptible to the idea of marriage. He couldn’t get out of the reception area fast enough.

Rather than going to the mother’s room, though, he detoured to the nursery. An infant—female or not—was a whole lot less risk than a beautiful mama.

That’s where Lizzy Adams found him, peering in at that tiny, incredible little human he’d brought into the world the night before.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” she said, standing beside him to look through the glass. “I never get over it. One minute there’s this anonymous little being inside the mother’s body, and the next he or she is out here in the real world with a whole lifetime spread out before them. It surely is a miracle.”

Hardy nodded, wishing he’d managed an escape before getting caught. “Yes, ma’am, it surely is.”

“Are you here to see Trish? She’s been asking for you. To tell you the truth, grateful as she is about your help last night, she’s mad as spit that you agreed to pay her hospital bill. I thought I ought to warn you.”

“I only agreed because that barracuda of a nurse panicked over the paperwork,” he said defensively.

“Whatever. I’m sure the two of you will work it out.”