“I’m fine.” Sierra moved away from the wall phone. “Clay and his mother are coming over.”
“From the look on your face, I’d say that’s bad.”
“I was hoping for more time alone with Jamie before pulling him in a dozen different directions.”
“Kids are resilient and do better with change than we think they will. Especially at his age.”
“You’re probably right.” She was right, Sierra thought. It was her and not Jamie who needed more time.
Sage reached into the refrigerator and came away with a piece of leftover pizza, which she then placed on a paper plate and put in the microwave.
“Miss lunch?”
“No.” She smiled embarrassedly. “I’m just always hungry.”
“Lucky you. I spent most of my pregnancy throwing up or feeling like I wanted to.”
“You’re also lucky.”
“I am, but what are you referring to?”
The previous evening, after Clay had left, Sierra had finally unloaded the entire story about Jamie to her family. They were supportive, sad she’d gone through so much misery alone and ecstatic she and Jamie were reunited. They also didn’t quite understand her reasons for not telling them about her pregnancy from the start and, at least in Gavin’s case, were a little mad at her.
“You’re lucky Jamie’s father wants to be part of his life,” Sage said.
Sierra leaned her back against the counter and watched Sage devour her warmed-up pizza. “I’m okay with Clay being part of his life. It’s his need to control that bothers me.”
“Wanting to see their sons every day is natural for most dads. I wish my ex wanted to see Isa. Not for my sake, mind you. For hers. Gavin is wonderful and a hundred times the father my ex will ever be, but Isa still asks about her daddy and can’t help feeling rejected. Jamie won’t ever experience that.”
The advice was good, and Sierra appreciated it. When she’d first got Jamie back, Sierra hadn’t thought ahead to when he might ask about his father. Certainly not about what she’d say to him or how it would affect him.
Now it was irrelevant. Jamie would know his father. Very well, if Clay had anything to do with it.
“I just wish he’d calm down a little. Quit trying to run the show.”
“That’s Clay for you.”
“Is it?” Sierra really didn’t know him, not the adult Clay. The youth and teenager she’d grown up with had been a lot like her older brothers. Competitive, confident, a talented athlete and enormously popular with the girls. The Clay she’d spent time with two years ago had been vulnerable and wounded and unafraid to show his gentler side. That was the man she’d fallen in love with.
“He’s a really good person, Sierra.” Sage smiled fondly. “Hardworking, loyal, caring and sweet.”
Sweet?
“He’s not hard on the eyes, either,” Sage added with an appreciative sigh. “You could do worse.”
“We’re not… There’s nothing between us,” Sierra protested.
“There was at one time.”
Jamie’s I’m-awake-where-are-you? cry carried through the house from the bedroom. “Oops.” Sierra excused herself with a smile. “Someone’s up from their nap.”
“And demanding your attention. Isn’t that just like a man? Big or little.”
Jamie’s crying stopped the moment Sierra stepped into the bedroom. He stood up in the portable crib, clinging to the side. One good growth spurt, and he’d be tall enough to crawl out on his own. She was going to have to buy a full-size crib soon, though she couldn’t imagine where she’d put another piece of furniture in here.
She and Jamie needed their own place. Though she loved her family, she couldn’t live with them and off them for long. Her pride wouldn’t let her. In order to obtain her own place, however, she’d need a job. In order to get a job, she’d have to conquer her fear of being away from Jamie.
The solution was obvious. Find employment she could do from home.
That, she decided, would be the first order of business on Monday morning. She’d update her résumé and start sending it out. In the meantime, she’d offer to help around the ranch. Run errands. Answer the phone. Paperwork. Clean stalls if necessary, so long as she could have Jamie with her.
“Hungry, handsome?”
She hummed to Jamie as she combed his rumpled hair. He patted her face and made kissing sounds; at least, Sierra chose to believe they were kissing sounds.
For a moment, she lost herself in the miracle of her son and forgot all about his father coming over. It didn’t last. No sooner did she walk back into the kitchen, Jamie toddling along beside her, then she remembered.
She’d just finished giving him a snack of juice and Cheerios, when a knock sounded.
“Sierra! It’s wonderful to see you again.” The hug Blythe Powell gave Sierra when she opened the door was warm and genuine and a good ten seconds long.
Her resistance melted. Here was someone from her past, an important someone. In a small way, hugging Blythe was like hugging her mother again.
Suddenly, Sierra wanted Jamie to meet his only living grandmother.
“Come in.” Her pleasure was cut short when Clay sauntered into the kitchen.
He was carrying an old-fashioned wooden rocking horse, one that had been ridden hard and loved well, given the worn paint and frayed yarn mane. Once inside, he set it in the middle of the floor.
“I hope you don’t mind I brought this along,” Blythe explained. “It was Clay’s when he was Jamie’s age. His grandfather made it for him.”
The grandfather she’d named Jamie after? Yes, she thought, observing Clay’s features soften.
“Is this him?” Blythe approached Jamie, her hands clasped in front of her, her face an explosion of joy.
Jamie, excited over the commotion, started slapping the tray on his high chair.
“Hello there.” Blythe bent so that her face was on Jamie’s level. “Aren’t you adorable?”
His eyes went huge, and his mouth started quivering.
“Goodness gracious, don’t cry.”
Sierra rushed over. “He’s a little shy around new people.”
Except when it came to Clay.
“It’s okay,” Blythe crooned, not appearing the least bit offended. “We’ll get to know each
