Baby Makes a Match Page 15

  “Dad,” Chandler said, shifting around to face the older man. “Got a minute? I need to talk to you.”

  Hubner looked to Bethany, who knew no more than he did. Concerned, she started forward, ready to intervene if necessary. Chandler sent her a taut smile.

  “It’s okay, hon. No fireworks today, I promise. I just need a word in private with my dad.”

  Hubner opened his mouth as if to speak, but then he simply nodded, turned and walked back toward his office. Bethany rushed to Chandler.

  “What’s going on?”

  He reached toward her, his hand landing in the vicinity of her waist. “It’s time,” he said. “Don’t worry. I prayed about this for hours last night.”

  “You’re going to tell him about us,” she surmised softly.

  He shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t do that to you and Matthew. What’s between us stays between us. This is about me and him.”

  She flashed back to the day before and their conversation in the back of the truck. Something warm and bright trickled through her. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew that this was a special moment. As if to reinforce that feeling, Chandler leaned in and kissed her cheek before following his father into the hallway.

  Bethany went back to her desk, sat down and bowed her head, praying that this might be the first step in a meeting of the hearts between father and son.

  Oddly, he’d expected to feel like a child again about to face his father’s disappointment and correction. Instead, Chandler felt strong and sure, even at peace, though he had not yet done what he’d come here to do. Hubner stood beside the door. Chandler stepped past him into the cramped office and glanced about as his father closed the door and moved around to sit behind his desk.

  The room felt familiar, though Chandler had never been in here before. He recognized the carved cross hanging on one wall and the framed verse on a small easel on one of the bookshelves behind the desk. It was John 6:5-6.

  Then Jesus lifted up His eyes, and seeing a great multitude coming toward Him, He said to Philip, “Where shall we buy bread, that these may eat?” But this He said to test him, for He Himself knew what He would do.

  Smiling to himself, Chandler bowed his head. The aunties were right. God undoubtedly knew exactly what He was doing and why.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” he said, unable to leave it for another moment. “You were right all along. I let Kreger drag me through dive after dive, and in the end, he cheated and ran out on me.”

  The chair creaked as Hubner sat forward. Glancing at his father’s shocked face, Chandler stepped up and dropped down onto one of a pair of padded wooden chairs arranged in front of the desk.

  “Don’t misunderstand me,” he rushed to say, folding his forearms against the desktop, “I believe—I know—that I’m called to rodeo. It’s what I’m meant to do. But I’m also meant to use that as a way to witness, if only by proclaiming myself a Christian and living like it. I didn’t get that until Kreger flaked out on me. Actually, I didn’t get it until Bethany…” He shook his head. That was beside the point. “What I’m saying is, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

  Hubner sat back again, lacing his fingers over his rounded belly. “Cheated and ran out, you say?”

  “Yes, sir.” Chandler briefly explained, ending with, “It’s okay, though. I have a new partner now, and things are starting to happen for us. I just want you to know, it’s not all about winning for me now. It’s about being the man I’m supposed to be, the man God wants me to be.”

  His father stared at him for a long time, then he gripped the arms of his chair and sat up straight. “I don’t know what to say, son. I truly did not want this disappointment for you, but I can’t pretend I’m surprised or heartbroken. Frankly, I expect it’s for the best. I always felt that Kreger pulled you away from us, away from your real purpose in life. Frankly, I thought that you were the one most likely to…rather, the one best suited for…” He grimaced, and Chandler smiled with wry understanding.

  Pretty smart, that little wife of his.

  “Dad, I’m not cut out for the pulpit. You know that.”

  Hubner steepled his hands. “I know it now. I admit that it took me a while to see it.” He rubbed a hand over his face, sighing. “Took me a long time to see it. Hard to see what you don’t want to.”

  “Amen,” Chandler said to that. Then he caught sight of the decorative clock in the shape of a church on the corner of his father’s desk and rose to his feet. “I’ve got to be going. Drew’s expecting me in Stephenville. I just wanted…I just wanted to apologize.”

  He turned and moved swiftly toward the door, only to draw up short when his father spoke his name. “Chandler.”

  His hand hovered over the doorknob. “Yes, sir?”

  “Thank you.”

  Chandler nodded and went out, leaving his father with his head bowed in deep contemplation.

  Neither father nor son offered any description of what had passed between them, and Bethany dared not ask. Hubner seemed as preoccupied as his son had the day before. Conversely, Chandler was in an expansive mood when he picked her up from work that afternoon. He chatted animatedly about the day’s practice as they drove around town on errands, picking up his dry cleaning, gassing the truck, purchasing shaving cream and razor blades. They didn’t get back to the house until dinnertime.

  After the meal, they wound up in the sitting room of their suite, side by side on the sofa, watching TV on the screen mounted above the fireplace mantel. Happily, they liked the same program. When it was over, Chandler switched off the set.

  “This is better than what we had out at the ranch,” Chandler told her, aiming the remote at the screen. “I’ve gotta give it to the old dears, they may live in a hundred-and-fifty-year-old house, surrounded by antiques, but they do try to keep up.”

  Bethany chuckled and bumped her shoulder against his. “Do you know, I found Odelia on the computer in the study not long ago, surfing the Internet in search of jewelry.”

  He laughed. “Is that where she finds her earrings?”

  Bethany giggled. “I thought there was a crazy earring store around here somewhere.”

  He laughed even harder at that, until Bethany playfully scolded him. “We shouldn’t make fun of her. She’s such a darling.”

  “Oh, she is,” he agreed. “They all are. I wouldn’t change a hair on any of their heads. Or yours for that matter.” His expression suddenly grew serious, and he skimmed a hair over her head. “You have beautiful hair.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And beautiful eyes.”

  “Thank you again.”

  “Beautiful everything.”

  She dropped her gaze, pleased and a little embarrassed. “I’m glad you think so.”

  “Sweetheart, I don’t think it, I know it. It can’t help but improve a man when he’s got a woman like you on his arm.”

  “I don’t think you need improving,” she told him shyly.

  “Yeah, I do,” he said. “More than you know and in ways you can’t see.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, surprised he could think that about himself. As far as she could tell, he was the next thing to perfect.

  He swallowed and shook his head, saying, “I think I better go now.” He got up and headed for his bedroom, wishing her a good night.

  Sighing, Bethany went to her own room, but she hadn’t given up. She wanted this marriage, and she wanted this man. If only she could make him want her, too.

  Watching TV, Chandler decided, could be a dangerous thing with a wife like his. She had no notion how tempting she was, and because he knew his limits, he’d figured that he better find something else to do tonight.

  He flexed his hands inside the new gloves, feeling the lanoline with which he’d treated the leather ooze a bit. He was working them on an old rope so the emollient wouldn’t destroy the stiffness of a new one. A limp rope wasn’t good for anything more than tying bundles and tricks. He made a loop and tossed it
at one of the standing plant holders scattered among the tables arranged around the softly chuckling fountain.

  “You better not let Magnolia catch you roping her beautiful plants.”

  He smiled in the direction of his wife’s amused voice, blinded by the light from a bulb mounted above the sunroom door. “Why do you think I missed?”

  She laughed softly. What a beautiful sound it was, healing, almost, in its purity.

  “Mind if I watch?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing much to see.”

  “I think there is,” she said, taking a seat on one of the chaises beside the fountain. “I find all these little jobs and the many tools of your trade fascinating.”

  “Yeah? Me, too,” Chandler confessed. “Rodeo’s pretty high-tech these days, but there’s something comforting and powerful about doing things you know countless others have done before you, things that only a select few really appreciate now.”

  “I can understand that. When you get down to it, I suppose having a baby is the same way.”

  “I suppose it is at that,” he said, pausing to think about it.

  “One more thing we have in common,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we’ve both been betrayed by people we trust. We’ve both lost parents. We both love our remaining family. And we’ve both led fairly unconventional lives. Just look at what you do for a living. You make your own way. None of that nine-to-five stuff for you. I admire that. Wish my own lack of convention was as admirable. I mean, my so-called marriage to Jay was anything but normal.”

  “And look at us now,” Chandler said, wincing at the edge of discontent in his own voice. “Ours isn’t exactly a conventional marriage, either, Bethany,” he couldn’t help adding.

  “No, it’s not,” she said, “but maybe we’re not cut out for conventional.”

  “Maybe we’re not,” he agreed. “So, okay, my unconventional wife, let’s rope us some chairs. Mags won’t cut up at that. What do you say?”

  Bethany laughed. “Rope all the chairs you want, cowboy. I’ll even sit in them if you like.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” he told her. In truth, if he ever got a loop on her, he wasn’t entirely sure he could let her go again.

  It was nearly eleven when they finally turned in that night, but sleep eluded Bethany for hours afterward. She couldn’t stop going over every moment that they had spent together lately. Funny how a few happy days could color a girl’s world, she mused.

  Cleaning stalls and eating a picnic lunch in the back of a truck hadn’t been a romantic interlude by any means, and yet she had come away feeling as if she was a part of something real, one of a pair, half of a couple. The ensuing days had only reinforced that notion. The truth, of course, was that they were friends who happened to be legally wed, nothing more, and that only because Chandler was such a good man.

  He had done so much for her. She wished that she could do something good for him in return. If only she could find a way to fully reconcile Chandler with his father. She felt they’d made a step in that direction, but it seemed a wary step at best. They were both such wonderful men, and each had been so very kind to her, despite the difficulties that she had added to their relationship, but they continued to circle each other like wary beasts, neither looking for a fight but neither coming closer. Lately she had been tempted to tell Hub the truth about her and Chandler so he would know what a truly fine man this son of his was, but she hadn’t for two reasons.

  One was entirely selfish. She wanted Chandler to be the father of this child and her husband for real, not just in the eyes of the world and his family. The second reason was simply that Chandler was her husband, at least in name, and she wouldn’t go against his express wishes. Hub was his father. Marrying her had been his decision, his plan. In this case it was his truth to tell. Or not.

  Chandler was set to leave Thursday morning for a rodeo in New Mexico. Why that should have Bethany feeling slightly panicked, she didn’t know, but no sooner did her eyes open that morning than she threw on a robe and went to his room. Standing there in the doorway, she could feel her heart beating against her breastbone like a caged bird fluttering its wings.

  “How long will you be gone?” she asked, trying to keep the tremor from her voice.

  Chandler stuffed socks into his rolling duffel bag and looked up. “Probably be the wee hours of Monday morning before I get in.”

  Bethany nodded.

  “I’ll be done here in a minute, then I’ll take you to work,”

  Chandler went on. “Kaylie’s going to give you a ride home this afternoon.”

  She managed a smile to let him know that she was appreciative, and then she took her courage in both hands and wrung it until the words she wanted came out. “If you could wait until then, I could go with you.”

  He froze in the act of zipping the bag.

  “O-or I could ask Hub for the day off,” she plunged on desperately.

  Chandler slowly finished zipping the bag and straightened, turning slightly to face her. Her hopes plummeted. So sure was she that he was going to shoot her down, she began throwing up barriers herself.

  “Oh, but…I—I do have a doctor’s appointment on Monday afternoon, a-and I’m coming up on seven months, which means I won’t be able to travel soon anyway, so…”

  “So if you’re going to go, it had better be now,” Chandler said. He pursed his lips, looking thoughtful, and added, “I expect I could get you back in time for your appointment, and Kaylie will probably fill in for you today. I’ll call her while you go pack.” With that, he reached for his cell phone in his hip pocket.

  Elated, Bethany was too stunned for a moment to do anything more than gape, but then Chandler made a shooing motion with one hand and began dialing his phone with the thumb of the other. Holding her belly with both hands, Bethany spun and ran back to her room, where she quickly threw things into her battered old suitcase. Her heart was beating double-time now, but for an entirely different reason. She was going with Chandler. They would be together for the whole, long weekend.

  “Thank You,” she whispered at the ceiling. “Thank You, thank You, thank You.”

  They drove away from Buffalo Creek Thursday at noon, heading for Lovington, New Mexico. It was a seven-hour trip that turned into nearly nine. Chandler didn’t mind. Despite having to stop every hour so Bethany could make a dash for the ladies’ room, he was thankful for the opportunity to get to know her better.

  She finally told him all about Jay Carter, how he’d approached her at a football game during her senior year in high school. She’d known he was older, but she’d been flattered by the attention. He’d told her later that he didn’t know why he’d stopped there that night, that it must have been fate. He’d claimed to have broken up with a long-term girlfriend and to be at loose ends. Chandler figured the creep had been trolling for a sweet young thing he could con. He’d hit the jackpot in Bethany. The brutality and hopelessness of her home life coupled with her youth had made her ripe pickings.

  Carter, or Widener, had courted her assiduously but quietly over the next several months, aided by the travel supposedly required for his job. On the day of her high school graduation, they had eloped. The marriage, of course, had not been legal because the license had never been filed.

  Chandler couldn’t help being glad about that. If he could have, he’d have spared her the pain and trauma that Carter had perpetrated, but they might not have married otherwise. No matter how it turned out in the end, he was glad to be a part of her life now.

  She was a good sport, fine company, a quick wit and a giggle box, seemingly ready to laugh at everything, even after all she’d been through. She was keen to learn all that he could tell her about rodeo. He hadn’t talked so much in…well, he didn’t think he’d ever talked so much. He hadn’t realized just how much he knew about rodeo, either. She hadn’t realized how complicated the business end of it all was.

  “You need an ac
counting degree to figure it all out!”

  “Or a lot of experience.”

  “Or a manager!”

  “There are some. Right now, Cindy’s kind of doing that for the team, and I’m piggybacking on her efforts for my individual events.”

  “Do a lot of wives do that?” Bethany asked.

  “I imagine so.”

  He waited for her to say that someday maybe she could do it, but she just bit her lip and finally lapsed into silence. It didn’t last. After a while she sent him a considering look and remarked, “I noticed that you have several saddles, more saddles than horses. Why so many?”

  He chuckled and answered, “Different saddles for different purposes. Won some of them.”

  That sent them off into a discussion of prizes, which wound up with him promising to dig out some of his buckles, spurs and other whatnots. Most of it was pretty minor, but some of it was excellent stuff. Most of it was packed into the boxes in the attic.

  “You need a display case,” she decided, “a big one.”

  Shaking his head, he said, “I need to win some real money.” Rolling his eyes upward, he added softly, “Please, God.” If he could start winning regularly, then he might have something to offer her, something more than a last name for her son, some reason for her to consider making this marriage real.

  Chapter Twelve

  He won nearly seventeen thousand dollars, coming in first in all three of his events. Seven thousand was his share of the team roping winnings, and for the first time in his career, Chandler picked up a sponsor. That meant that a portion of his entry fees would be covered for the next four months, until the national finals in mid-December.

  Bethany actually hugged the half-dozen dark blue, long-sleeved shirts with the sponsor’s logo on the sleeves before carefully packing them into his kit. Just seeing that was worth more to Chandler than the financial reward. He liked the feeling that she might be proud of him, liked it very much. It gave him hope.