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

Testing her, he said, “How about that for your baby? I really loved hearing about old Peri. To hear my father tell it, she was ahead of her time, quite the feminist.”

Trish laughed. “You’re kidding.”

“About Peri?”

“About all of it.”

He held up a hand. “God’s truth. I swear it. Somebody, way back when, had a garden thing. Nobody who came after had the imagination to stray from the theme.” He finally dared to look straight into Trish’s eyes, which were sparkling with little glints of silver that made the blue shine like sapphires. “Okay, forget Peri. What’s wrong with naming her after yourself? Trish is a pretty name.”

“Short for Patricia,” she explained derisively. “It’s a fine name, I suppose, but too ordinary. I want something that will make her stand out.”

“Take it from someone whose name was a constant source of teasing, ordinary has its merits.”

He paused for a minute, suddenly struck by a memory of the one woman in his life who’d been steadfast and gentle, his grandmother Laura. She’d died when he was only ten, but he’d never forgotten the warmth she had brought into his lonely life on her infrequent visits. She’d smelled like lily of the valley and she’d always had little bags of candy tucked inside her purse. She was the one person on his mother’s side of the family who’d ever bothered to stay in touch.

“There is one name that comes to mind,” he said, still hesitant to become involved in this at all. His gut told him even such a tenuous tie to this woman and her baby was dangerous.

“Tell me,” she commanded eagerly.

“Laura. It’s a little old-fashioned, I suppose. It was my grandmother’s name.”

“And she meant a lot to you?” she asked, searching his face.

“A long time ago, yes, she did.”

Trish’s expression brightened then. “Laura,” she said softly. “I like it.”

Hardy liked the way it sounded when she said it. He liked the way her voice rose and fell in gentle waves. Even when she’d been snapping his head off during the baby’s birth, there had been a hint of sunshine lurking in that voice.

He liked everything about this woman a little too much. She and her baby were the type who could sneak into a man’s heart—even his—before he knew what hit him. Just thinking that was enough to have him heading for the exit from the nursery.

“You’re leaving?” Trish called after him, clearly surprised by the abrupt departure.

“Work to do,” he said tersely, not turning around. “I meant to go a while back.”

“Maybe I’ll see you again.”

“Since you’re not from around these parts, I doubt it.”

He hesitated, then turned and took one last look at the two of them, sitting in that rocker with the sunlight streaming in and spilling over them. He had a feeling that image would linger with him long after he wanted to banish it.

“I’m glad everything turned out okay,” he said. “You all have a good life wherever you go.”

Not until he was out in the hallway with the door firmly closed behind him did he begin to feel safe again.

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