THE TEXAS WILDCATTER'S BABY (13 page)

For a second no one said anything, no one moved. The two women seemed to know they were being presumptuous. Finally, Cordelia threw up her hands and looked at him as if he were the idiot in the room. “Of course we know. Your mother and I both knew the moment we saw you and Ginger together on your wedding day. The way she was glowing and you were strutting around like a proud papa to be!”

His mom added informatively, “An even bigger clue to us was the fact you were getting married at all, never mind so quickly, when you had both told everyone after your divorces that you were never walking down the aisle again.”

Rand scowled. “If it was so obvious, why didn’t you say anything to us then?” he demanded.

His mother sighed. “Because we didn’t want to deter you from doing the right thing for your baby.”

“And because I knew the moment I saw you with my daughter that you were the man she’s been waiting her entire life to meet and fall in love with,” Cordelia said.

Except he and Ginger weren’t “in love” with each other, Rand thought. Not yet. Maybe not ever. And, as long as they stayed as happy as they had been the night before, he was beginning to be okay with that, too.

He shook his head, as if that would clear it, then went back to what the two women had been quarreling about when he entered. “So why were you arguing?”

Cordelia stiffened. “I want us to throw you and Ginger a surprise baby shower in the party barn.”

“Not gonna happen,” Rand decreed. “In fact, no more surprises of any kind.”

Josie folded her arms. “I told you he wouldn’t like it, Cordelia.”

“Ginger won’t, either,” Rand added.

“Why not?” Ginger’s mom argued. “You can’t tell me my daughter’s not happy about having your baby!”

Of course Ginger was happy; they both were—that went without saying. It was a new life. A part of him. A part of her. What was there not to be happy about?

“She doesn’t want anyone to know because she’s worried they will hold it against her when it comes to business,” Rand explained.

“And she’s right to think that way.” Josie backed up his claim. “Wildcatting is still largely a man’s domain. There are a lot of people who don’t want women on job sites period, never mind pregnant women.”

“You faced the same discrimination?” Cordelia asked her, looking thoughtful.

Josie nodded. “Naturally, I worked around it, just as Ginger’s doing.” She reached over and squeezed Cordelia’s arm. “I know you mean well. We all do. But you and I have to step back and give these two lovebirds the time and space they need.”

“And that means,” Rand concurred, “Ginger’s ‘news’ is hers to tell whenever and however she sees fit.”

Cordelia studied him with a mother’s keen eye. “You really adore my daughter, don’t you?”

Rand nodded. More than anyone would ever know. “So you’ll do what I ask?” He looked at both mothers. “And pretend you don’t know?”

Josie and Cordelia nodded in unison.

That settled, Rand headed over to the main house. He filled a to-go platter for them to share, then circled back to the cottage.

As he expected, Ginger was awake. She had a broad smile on her face.

Rand set their breakfast on the dining table. “What’s going on?”

She pointed to her computer screen. “Maria and I made the semifinals—that’s what! We drew Slot 9 on the Q and A sessions tomorrow!”

“That’s wonderful.” He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her.

Ginger hugged him back. “Of course it’s not just me.” She babbled on, reaching for the can of ginger ale she’d been sipping. “Profitt Oil and your mother’s company were chosen, too. But this is great. I’m officially in the running.”

“Good thing I brought you some breakfast, then.” He winked.

She put a tentative hand to her tummy. “Thanks, but...” She took another small sip of soda. “I think it’s just going to be saltine crackers and soda for now.” She rose, already in high gear. “I’ve got to call Maria. Get a shower. Prep for the Q and A!”

The rest of the morning went swiftly.

By noon, Rand had received a phone call, too.

Not sure how
his
news would go over, he went to find Ginger, who was sitting on the back porch, running through her data. She took one look at him and sat back in her chair. “What’s wrong?”

Reluctantly he filled her in. “Dot and Clancy have asked me to sit in on the Q and A sessions.”

Her brow furrowed. “I thought only three independent geologists were going to do that.”

“Initially, that was the plan. Now they want an environmental engineer there to handle any issues that may arise. And since I’ve already vetted all the proposed drilling plans...”

She considered that with her usual cool professionalism. “Makes sense.”

“Are you okay with this?” She’d worked so hard. He didn’t want to do anything that could possibly throw her off her game. And having him in the room could distract her.

Ginger pushed a hand through her hair. “Would it matter if I wasn’t? You’ve already refused to recuse yourself once.”

He’d since had time to regret that. “For this round, the identities of the participants won’t be hidden, unlike the way they were in the initial proposal review.”

She studied him, as if wondering why he was even asking her this. “Is this new attitude of yours because we put sex back on the table? And you don’t want us to take it off again?”

It was deeper than that.

Not sure she should hear that now, though, when her attention should be solely on the oil lease she was trying to acquire, he merely shrugged. “Let’s just say I’m very invested in keeping peace in our family.”
As well as continuing to make love to you every chance we get
. “So if this is going to make you uncomfortable in any way...”

Abruptly she looked vaguely insulted, almost irked. “No. I want you there,” she responded quickly, then paused, struggling to explain. “I feel better when you are around. Safer. And I know that’s odd. Not to mention totally out of character for me. Let’s chalk it up to a pregnancy thing, okay?”

Damn but she was cute when she was hormonal.

Chuckling, Rand took her in his arms. “I like being with you, too.”

* * *

G
INGER
SPENT
THE
rest of the day alternately feeling very confident and very anxious. To the point she was considering her options when Rand ambled in at dinnertime, carrying takeout from the local barbecue.

His gaze drifted over her. “Still can’t get hold of Maria?”

Ginger brought plates, silverware and napkins to the table. “I’ve emailed, texted and called her repeatedly all day.”

Rand filled two glasses with water and ice. “Is it possible she’s on a job?”

“No.” Ginger sat opposite him. “The one she and her crew were working ended late last week.”

His gaze swept her thoroughly. “Maybe Maria hasn’t checked her messages.”

“Maybe.”

He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m sure she’ll check them tonight.”

Ginger hadn’t felt the need to lean on a man in a long time. She felt it now. “You’re right. I’m being paranoid.” Deliberately, she shook off her low mood. “Maria’s probably just been prepping, same as me.”

He opened the paper bags and set the containers of mesquite-smoked chicken, potato salad, green beans, slaw and peach cobbler on the table.

“Looks good.”

He grinned, already loading their plates. “Got to have you strong and fit for tomorrow.”

Smiling, Ginger took two bites and put her fork down.

Concern lit his gaze. As always, he knew the second it hit. “Morning sickness?”

Deliberately she took a deep breath and willed the nausea away. “Or evening.”

Rand took his cell phone out of his shirt pocket. “Want me to call your OB-GYN?”

The sight of him reacting like a parody of an expectant dad made her heart sing. “No. I see her next week. I’ll talk to her then, if it doesn’t improve.” Beginning to feel a tiny bit better, Ginger leaned toward him. “You should go with me. Meet her. I mean,” she added hastily, suddenly wondering if she was asking too much, “if you can.”

His smile deepened. “Of course I can.”

They resumed dining. Rand ate with the hearty appetite one expected of a man his size. Ginger tried her best, but still couldn’t really eat anything. Finally she pushed back her chair, knowing if she didn’t get away from the sight and smell of the deliciously prepared food soon...

Rand joined her as they carried their dishes to the sink. He laid a comforting hand at her back. “Can I do something for you? Make you some chamomile tea or something?”

“No. But don’t worry...I’ll be okay.” Ginger swallowed hard. With the tips of her fingers, she blotted the perspiration dampening her hairline. “I haven’t actually thrown up since that one time. I’ve always been able to work through it.”

Determined this would not be the exception to the rule—bad enough he’d seen her hugging the toilet bowl once—she walked out onto the back porch. A nice breeze was sifting through the screens, and the mountain air was cool and bracing. She truly appreciated the beautiful scenery as the peaceful evening descended. Gradually, her pulse rate slowed. Her stomach settled.

Able to see she was finally feeling better, Rand laced an arm around her shoulders. “I’m really proud of you, you know.”

The funny thing was, she was proud of him, too. Ginger turned toward him. The fronts of their bodies touched as she tilted her face up to his. She loved it when he held her like this. So tenderly and protectively. “About the job?”

He sifted a hand lovingly through her hair. “The way you handle everything that comes your way.”

She splayed trembling hands across the solid warmth of his chest. “I don’t know about that,” she confessed. “I’m feeling pretty nervous right now.”

He wrapped his arms around her, gathered her closer yet. “You’re going to do fine.”

He said it with such conviction she could almost believe him. She leaned her head on his shoulder and let him hold her. “Just keep saying that.”

Keep making all my dreams come true
.

Chapter Twelve

Ginger stared at Maria the following morning, feeling as if the rug had just been pulled out from beneath her. “What do you mean you can’t work with me on the Boerne lease?”

“I’m sorry. I really am.” Maria wrung her hands. “But I have to do what’s best for my family and my crew. The job I’ve been offered is a one-year gig. Guaranteed. Even if we were to win, which...” Doubt crept into her voice. “You know how stiff this competition is...”

Ginger thought about what she and Rand had seen in Summit the evening before. “Did Conrad have anything to do with this?” she asked furiously.

Maria shook her head. “He made me an offer. I turned him down flat, same as you. This gig came from the Southwestern Oil Company late last night.”

A reputable midsize firm, not involved in the bidding in Summit County.

“Part of the deal was I start today.”

Ginger held up her hand. “I understand.” And the hell of it was, she did. Having a family changed everything.

“I’m sorry, Ginger. Really I am.” Maria pivoted and hurried down the sidewalk to her truck.

Ginger stood there, watching numbly as her ex-drilling partner drove away.

Rand came up behind her. “What are you going to do?”

Good question. “At the moment? Try not to lose my breakfast.” Ginger whirled and went back inside the cottage.

Only a step behind her, Rand stood just inside the front door. Ginger stared at him. Although she wasn’t scheduled to appear until much later in the day, he had to be there within the hour. “Don’t you have to be going?” she snapped.

“If you need me...”

She lifted a hand. “I’ll be fine. Really.” Hand to his shoulder, Ginger pushed her husband out the door.

He hesitated on the other side of the threshold. “Call me if you need me.”

Ginger nodded. But they both knew she wouldn’t. Like it or not, this was something she had to figure out for herself.

Hours later, she was still struggling with the recent turn of events.

She drove into town, fighting morning sickness every step of the way. Aware it was Conrad’s turn to defend his company’s proposal, she avoided the lawyer’s office where the meetings were being held, and stopped by the pharmacy instead. Sweat gathered at her hairline as she perused the aisles.

As always happened when she wanted to appear incognito, a clerk appeared at her side. “Are you feeling all right? You look a little green.”

No surprise—she felt awful. Ginger took another deep, enervating breath. “I was looking for some spearmint lozenges or lemon drops.”

“They’re with the candy.” She led Ginger two aisles over and gave her a sympathetic smile. “If you need anything else, let me know.”

Ginger nodded. She picked up one package of each, another bottle of chilled ginger ale and a sports drink containing electrolytes.

She paid for her purchases and went back out to her truck, drove to the park down the street from the attorney’s office and sat, with the windows open, letting the spring breeze blow over her. Eyes closed, she breathed in through her nose, out through her mouth. Until finally the symptoms subsided.

Eventually, Ginger opened her eyes. Another disaster averted. Now all she had to do was get through the Q and A.

* * *

R
AND
KNEW
THE
moment Ginger walked into the conference room to face the Boernes, their attorney and the four-member panel that she was in a bad way.

He doubted anyone else knew what was wrong, thanks to the cheerful smile she had plastered on her face.

Unfortunately, given what he had already heard that day, he knew her dismay was only going to get worse.

Dot Boerne began. “First of all, Ginger, we want you to know that Clancy and I loved your proposal. You came up with a drilling plan that was not only the most cost-effective of all the proposals we received, but did not disturb the parts of our land we hold most dear.”

Ginger smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Unfortunately we understand that you’ve had some bad news. That your drilling partner, Maria Gonzales, has dropped out of the competition and taken her crew to another job.”

For a moment Ginger looked taken aback. Recovering, she squared her shoulders and pushed on with her usual confidence. “That’s true, but I know I can find replacement workers who are just as talented.”

Clancy Boerne grinned and nodded approvingly. “In fact, you’ve already done so, haven’t you?”

Ginger blinked. Clearly, Rand thought, she didn’t know what Boerne was talking about.

The older gentleman continued. “Profitt Oil has offered to step in. And given that you’ve worked for them in the past—”

“Where did you hear this?” Ginger interrupted pleasantly.

“Conrad mentioned it when his team was in here earlier today.”

Rand watched as Ginger nodded, her expression grave. “I’m sorry you were given that information. It’s incorrect. Yes, I was asked to go back to work for the company, but I have refused, and will continue to do so.”

Rand relaxed in relief.

“Then...?” Dot persisted.

“I still want to do the job, but it’s going to mean finding another crew...”

The Boernes nodded their understanding, but they weren’t happy. More questions followed. Though it was clear by the time the Q and A session ended that Ginger had lost whatever edge she had walked in with.

Rand followed her outside during the brief break that followed.

Hands on her hips, she glared at him. “You knew?”

He nodded. “There was no way I could warn you.”

Briefly, hurt and dismay flickered in her eyes. She looked ready to break into a string of roughneck-ready words. “Of course you couldn’t.”

Rand kept his physical distance. “Your ex-husband is a horse’s behind, but I still have a job to do here, and I have to be fair.”

Ginger nodded, then pivoted sharply and headed for her truck. Rand followed, hard on her heels, his urge to protect her stronger than ever. “Where are you going?”

She jerked open the driver’s door, threw her briefcase in and climbed behind the wheel. “Exactly where you’d think. To find my no good ex-husband and give him a piece of my mind!” She drove off.

Torn between his duty to hear the last Q and A of the day—which happened to involve his mother’s company—or see to his wife, Rand went back inside. The choice was easy. “Sorry about this, but my wife needs me,” he said frankly and without apology. “You all are going to have to carry on without me.”

* * *

I
T
DIDN
’
T
TAKE
long for Ginger to spot Conrad’s Porsche. It was in front of the steakhouse on Main Street. She parked her truck and went inside. Conrad was seated at the bar, bourbon in hand. He had a smug, happy look on his face.

Although she was still fighting waves of ever-increasing nausea, she was determined to have this out with him here and now.

She tapped him on the shoulder and he slowly turned around. “Hey, darlin’...” His voice was slurred. It was as if he, too, knew he had lost his bid for the Boerne oil lease.

“Were you responsible for Maria getting a job with another oil company?”

Conrad squinted thoughtfully, as a garlicky smell Ginger might have appreciated under any other circumstances floated in from the dining room.

Her ex took another sip of bourbon as she swallowed and tried not to breathe in. “I might have mentioned to a colleague or two that she was awfully good—had to be if she were going to partner up with you—and relatively inexpensive, too. Compared to some of the other outfits around.”

Conrad’s needling smile deepened, as did the resentment in his gaze. “I also might have mentioned there was a very narrow window, in which to steal her away from all this Boerne ranch business. Why?” He chuckled mirthlessly, his wounded ego showing. “Did your friend back out on you? Let you down, the way you let me down? Or...wait. Have you come here to beg my forgiveness in front of all these people, so I’ll bail you out of the mess you’re in?”

Ginger’s fists knotted at her sides. It was all she could do not to punch him in the face. “You conniving, mean-spirited snake...”

Conrad set his glass down and rose slowly. “It was a mistake to tell the Boernes that you would never under any circumstances work with me or anyone at Profitt Oil again.”

His bourbon-scented breath was even more unpleasant than the garlicky smell. Ginger reeled backward. “How c-could you...?” she sputtered.

Conrad raised his cell phone. “Because their attorney telephoned me to verify, as soon as you left the room,” he said, leaning in, his low voice turning even uglier.

With effort, Ginger held her ground. “So what?”

“So now it’s my turn to ruin your business prospects,” Conrad threatened.

Without warning, Rand came up behind Ginger and stepped protectively in beside her.

His timing stank.

Unaware that the last thing she wanted—or needed—at that particular moment was to have her husband come in to fight her battles for her, Rand put a gentle hand on Ginger’s waist. Furiously, she shook off his touch. The people in the bar, which were mostly oil men, began to chuckle.

“I’ve got this,” Ginger hissed as yet another wave of smells—this time some sort of pan-seared fish—wafted in from the dining room.

Muscle working convulsively in his jaw, Rand stayed exactly where he was, but did not attempt to touch her again.

Determined to further the show they were now putting on for everyone in the steakhouse bar, Conrad tilted his head in a mocking manner. “Well, isn’t that sweet. Looks like the little woman—or should I say wife?—has emasculated you, too.”

More chuckles. A gasp. And a swift, shouted prediction of trouble to come.

“But then, that’s what you do, isn’t it, darlin’?” Conrad turned back to Ginger. “You marry a man with great oil company connections and you use him to try to get into the executive ranks. Only in this case, the oil company you have your eye on eventually running is helmed by a woman. So you probably think your master plan will be even easier to execute.”

No one who knew Josie Corbett-Wyatt McCabe would ever think the female wildcatter was able to be pushed around.

Ginger shook her head vehemently. “I never wanted to take over Profitt Oil,” she informed everyone in the room.

“Really? ’Cause it seems like you did a pretty good job of showing me up within the company, when you were my wife. And then when my father and I finally understood your game, you divorced me and lassoed him.” Conrad pointed to Rand.

Aware her husband was holding on to his own temper by the slightest of threads, Ginger retorted, “That’s not why I married Rand.”

“Yeah?” Conrad downed the rest of his drink, then followed it with a short, resentful laugh. He leered at her. “Then why did you marry him in such a great big hurry if it wasn’t to somehow influence what happened from here on out? Are you going to tell me you love him? ’Cause I don’t buy it. There’s something else going on here.”

There was. But Ginger couldn’t reveal it, not with the Boerne decision still hanging in the balance. Sickness overwhelmed her as another wave of assorted food smells assaulted her. Aware she was about to embarrass them all, she told Conrad grimly, “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

And then, unable to fight it a second longer, she leaned over and threw up all over his fancy rattlesnake boots.

* * *

T
HE
PROBLEM
WITH
throwing up, after two entire days of trying not to throw up, was that Ginger couldn’t seem to stop. Even after her stomach was emptied, the dry heaves continued.

That was how she ended up in the emergency room cubicle at Summit hospital, with Rand at her side, slowly but surely easing her humiliation and making sure she got everything she needed.

Two bags of IV fluids and some anti-nausea medicine later, she was finally able to catch her breath and turn her attention to the loving man beside her.

She wasn’t the only one who looked as though they had just been through hell. Rand’s usual calm was shattered, his expression turbulent, his jaw tight.

Ginger met his eyes. “Sorry I let it get that far.”

“Probably no sorrier than Conrad’s boots.”

His joke broke the tension, and she laughed. “Somehow I have the feeling my ex is not going to be bothering us again.”

Rand’s eyes glittered with humor. “Probably not.”

Their gazes meshed. Ginger squeezed Rand’s hand.

“I know what I said earlier, but the truth is, I’m glad you were there. It helped, knowing you had my back.”

“Even if you didn’t want me to actually step in and defend you?”

Ginger nodded.

Tenderness radiated from him. “I’m glad I was there, too.” He tightened his fingers on her.

Another heartfelt moment passed.

A nurse, who had been standing there quietly waiting, shook her head and muttered, “Lovebirds.” With a wink of approval, she exited and promptly returned with the E.R. doctor, Thad Garner.

The nurse wheeled the ultrasound closer to Ginger’s gurney as Dr. Garner asked, “You two heard the baby’s heartbeat yet?”

Rand and Ginger shook their heads.

“Well, you’re in for a treat.” The doctor smiled as the nurse spread gel across Ginger’s tummy, switched on the machine, then handed him the wand. On the television screen, they saw what looked like liquid moving waves. Then, as he continued moving the wand over Ginger’s belly, the shape of a tiny baby appeared. It was one thing to know you were pregnant via test results—it was another to actually see your little one nestled snugly in your womb. Ginger gasped in amazement. Head, body, fingers, toes... All were there.

Tears of happiness flooded Ginger’s eyes. Wonder filled her heart. And then the sound.
Th-thump. Th-thump. Th-thump.
Their baby’s steady, strong heartbeat echoed through the room.

“It’s too early to tell if it is a boy or a girl yet...” Dr. Garner said cheerfully. He grinned at the emotional parents-to-be. “But all looks good.” He printed out a photo for them, then handed it over. Rand and Ginger perused it together joyously.