Baby's First Homecoming. Cathy McDavid

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Baby's First Homecoming - Cathy  McDavid

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where her family and future sisters-in-law waited. Everyone was expecting her, possibly intending to confront her. There would be questions, especially when they saw the unexpected “guest” Sierra had brought with her and heard her request to—temporarily, she assured herself—move home.

       By some miracle she’d been able to stand outside this long without being noticed. Maybe no one was home. She immediately dismissed that idea. Someone would be here to greet her. Her father at least, who’d insisted she come home for her brothers’ double wedding.

       Her brothers, Gavin and Ethan, could be elsewhere on the ranch—leading trail rides, teaching riding classes or otherwise making themselves scarce so she and her father could have a few minutes alone. She had hurt him the worst and owed him the biggest apology. It was he who had the power to grant or deny her request to stay.

       Sierra might have been lost in thought indefinitely if not for a noise coming from inside her car. She opened the rear driver’s-side door and stuck her head inside.

       “Hey, handsome. You awake? How was your nap?”

       Her son waved his pudgy fists and broke into a delighted grin that displayed six new teeth. His hazel eyes, the image of his father’s, beamed at her as he babbled incoherently.

       Her heart promptly broke open and spilled a torrent of love as it did every time he smiled or gurgled or nuzzled into her neck and sighed with baby contentment.

       “Thank God I have you back,” she murmured for the thousandth time, a catch in her voice, the wound within her still raw.

       She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve this reprieve. This gift. This chance to right past wrongs. But she was bound and determined to turn her life around and make the best one possible for her and her son. If she needed to get on her hands and knees and beg her family, she would. He was that important to her.

       “Let’s clean you up a bit before we meet the folks.” Using a cotton cloth, she wiped the smudges of dirt from his face and hands. “There. All better.”

       He kicked his feet, which were clad in white socks and brand-new red sneakers she’d recently purchased. In fact, she’d recently purchased all his clothes, the car seat, a portable crib and every necessity a child his age needed.

       She reached onto the seat beside him and retrieved his favorite toy from where it had fallen. He grabbed the plastic pony and waved it in the air as if to say, Where have you been? I was looking for you, and stuffed the pony’s entire head in his mouth.

       With trembling fingers, Sierra unbuckled the car-seat straps. The distraction of caring for her son had worn off. She was once again dreading the prospect of facing her family.

      They love you, she told herself. They will love Jamie, too.

       But was it enough to make up for the last two years of shameful avoidance?

       Drawing a deep breath, she hefted Jamie into her arms. When he was securely balanced on her hip and the diaper bag was slung over her shoulder, she picked her way slowly up the brick-lined walk to the back patio.

       The kitchen door loomed ahead, the outline wavering as if she were seeing it though a very long tunnel. Her flats made scuffing sounds on the dirt and then clip-clopped across the Saltillo tiles, each beat matching her pounding heart.

       Thank goodness she didn’t have to worry about Jamie’s father being anywhere near Mustang Valley. The last she’d heard, which was soon after their too-brief affair ended, he was married and living in Austin, Texas. Sierra had taken a risk returning to Arizona, but a small one so long as he stayed far, far away.

       And she needed that distance, for her sake more than their son’s. His betrayal—she couldn’t think of it any other way—had shattered her. Granted, she’d been naive. That in no way made it acceptable for him to take advantage of her.

       She reached the kitchen door and found it slightly ajar. Odd.

       Knocking, she called, “Hello! Dad?” When there was no answer, she knocked again.

       The door drifted open a few more inches. Sierra nudged it the rest of the way and stepped tentatively inside.

       “Hello. Anybody home?”

       The only answer she received was the soft humming of the refrigerator and the whirr of the slowly twirling ceiling fan over the kitchen table.

       She frowned. This was more than strange. Her family knew she was coming. Heck, she’d called her father not an hour ago letting him know her anticipated arrival time.

       She ventured farther in. It was then she noticed a large sheet cake in the center of the counter. Inching closer, she read the message scrawled with blue icing.

      Welcome Home, Sissy. Her family’s pet name for her.

       Was it possible they weren’t angry with her after all?

       A dam broke, and the relief washing over her was so intense it stole every ounce of strength from her knees. She reached for the counter to steady herself before the combined weight of Jamie and the diaper bag dragged her to the floor.

       “Surprise!” The resounding chorus of voices erupted from nowhere, echoing loudly off the walls. People, so many of them, converged on her from around corners and down the hall.

      No, no!

       Sierra’s entire body jerked in response, out of alarm and fear. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

       “You’re here, honey!”

       “Hey, Sissy.”

       “We’ve missed you!”

       Jamie screwed up his mouth and started to wail. Holding on to her, he hid his beet-red face in her sweater. His beloved toy pony dropped to the floor, along with the diaper bag.

       The room went instantly silent, like a TV when the mute button was pressed. Even Jamie stopped crying and turned teary eyes to the gathering of people gawking at him.

       A young girl of about six or seven whom Sierra didn’t recognize broke the silence with an excited, “You have a baby! Can I hold him?” She scrambled over to Sierra, her angelic face alight. “I’m Isa, your niece. Or I’m going to be your niece when my mama marries your brother.”

       “Hello, Isa.” Sierra had trouble speaking and cleared her throat. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

       Actually, Sierra had heard only a smattering about her future stepniece. She might have heard more if she’d answered her family’s phone calls or read their emails.

       Glancing around the kitchen, she took in the puzzled and shocked expressions on everyone’s faces. Except for Isa, they kept their distance, as if waiting for someone else to break the ice.

       What had she expected? She’d brought a fourteen-month-old child home with her, and had given them no warning.

       Her oldest brother, Gavin, studied her with his usual seriousness. As a girl, she had been intimidated by that look. Living on her own since she was seventeen apparently made no difference.

       Ethan, younger than Gavin by

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