The Rancher's Christmas Baby

Which was what made it so awkward now. “Teddy, I—” Amy broke off as the couple who worked for her approached.

Both were in their midtwenties. A petite brunette, Sheryl Cooper was nearly eight months pregnant. Her husband, Ed, wasn’t much taller than she and had gone prematurely bald.

Even before they’d learned they were expecting, they had been the picture of married bliss. Now, with their firstborn son on the way, they were over the moon.

Or at least they had been, Amy noted, taking in their tense, worried expressions. “What’s wrong?” she demanded at once.

“We’ve been working in the greenhouses all afternoon and I started having contractions half an hour ago,” Sheryl said, hand to her tummy. Her face was blotchy and dotted with perspiration. “I’ve had three now—all precisely ten minutes apart. It feels like I’m going into labor.”

And they all knew it was too early for that to be happening.

“I’ve already called her obstetrician. I’m taking her over to the emergency room to get checked out.” Ed looked as worried as Sheryl sounded.

“Anything I can do?” Amy asked in concern.

Ed shook his head and assisted Sheryl into the cab of their station wagon. “I’ll let you know what the doc says.” He climbed behind the wheel and drove off.

“I hope she’s okay,” Teddy said.

Amy released the breath she had been holding. She touched a hand to her throat. “Me, too.”

He followed her inside. “So back to our plans for the evening…”

Amy looked around the frilly interior of her home. The overstuffed floral sofa, and pink, green, and white color scheme were perfect for her romantic nature. However, they did not suit a macho guy like Teddy at all.

Already, as he moved past the leather-bound trunk that served as her coffee table, past the banquette to the galley kitchen—which had a half-size everything—he looked cramped. Worse, he was making her feel crowded. Even a little breathless. So much so, she suddenly needed some time to herself.

Amy slipped off her wool dress coat and strode past the tiny bathroom to her bedroom.

She had to slip off her heels and climb over the double bed—which took up the entire space—to get to the closet to put her coat and shoes away. “Why do we have to spend the night together?” As she backed up on her knees, she caught him looking at her legs.

To her chagrin, he didn’t so much as flush.

Instead, he lounged in the portal, arms crossed in front of him, as if he owned the place. “Is that a serious question?”

What had gotten into him?

“Obviously,” Amy said stiffly, “it is.”

Deciding she needed to get out of the cranberry silk-chiffon wrap-dress she’d gotten married in, Amy grabbed a pair of jeans and a pine-green chenille turtleneck sweater.

Teddy sighed with frustration.

Feeling equally frustrated, Amy slipped past him, into the bath.

Very much aware how different this evening would be if they were having a real wedding night—the over-the-top-romantic kind she had dreamed about her entire adult life—she stripped off her dress and peeled off her panty hose.

“We’re married, Amy,” Teddy reminded her through the closed door. He was beginning to sound impatient.

Amy walked back out with an arch look. “As friends only.”

Maddeningly, Teddy stayed right where he was, giving her little room to maneuver in the cramped space. “It’s still expected that we will reside together.”

Refusing to admit he was quite clearly making his point—her trailer was too tiny for the both of them—she qualified right back, “Once I’m pregnant. But there’s no rush for us to be together under the same roof until then.”

Teddy rubbed the flat of his hand underneath his jaw and regarded her the same way he looked at one of his horses when the animal wasn’t doing what he wanted it to do.

Amy knew that in those situations, Teddy always figured out how to get his way.

It was a quality all good leaders possessed—the ability to figure out how to get someone else to follow.

The problem was, she did not want him to be the leader in their marriage. She did not want either of them to be in a position to boss the other around. She wanted them to continue to do their own thing, in their own way, in their own time.

“So there is no reason we have to reside under the same roof tonight or any other night right now,” Amy concluded.

“I think our parents would beg to differ on that point,” he said dryly.

Normally, Amy liked to exchange ideas and witty remarks with Teddy. But not today. Not after the grilling they had just been through. What she wanted now was some peace and quiet. Privacy. Time to figure out how they were going to proceed with this hasty marriage of theirs.

Her bare feet planted firmly on the carpet, Amy told Teddy, “We’ve already established I don’t care what they think.”

“Then what,” Teddy asked, advancing on her ever so slowly, his low voice going from coolly concerned to ironic, “about what I think?”

AMY STARED AT THE MAN WHO had been her husband for all of six hours. Suddenly, she felt she did not know him at all. The Teddy she thought she knew always gave her plenty of space. He respected her decisions. He did not question anything she did or said. He was content to just let her be herself, regardless of other people’s expectations, which was why she liked hanging out with him so much.

Letting him know that it was not okay to change tactics now, she offered a tight smile. “Please don’t tell me you’re playing the husband card.”

Teddy’s eyebrow went up. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Amy rummaged around in her top dresser drawer for a pair of wool socks. She pulled out a pair decorated with Christmas wreaths. “We never said we would live together right off the bat!”

He sat down beside her on the bed, looking more comfortable now that he was not hunched over slightly to keep from hitting his head on the top of the travel-trailer ceiling. “It was implied.”

Amy swallowed and continued pulling on her socks. It wasn’t her fault he was so tall and big-boned and muscular. She hadn’t ask him to do the physical labor that left his shoulders so taut and broad that he had to turn slightly to make it through the tiny door frames.

“If it was implied,” Amy countered, “it was only to you.” Finished, she wiggled her sock-clad toes against the carpet…and waited for his rebuttal.

Silence strung out between them.

Just as she expected, he seemed no more apt to back off from his position than she.

He reached over and patted her knee in a manner that was as overly familiar and seductive as it was comforting. “Come on, Amy. People are going to talk enough as it is.”

Skin tingling, Amy vaulted to her feet.

Telling herself the fact they were already bickering mightily, after only being hitched a few hours, was not as bad a sign as it might appear, she scoffed, “So now we’re worried about appearances?”

Teddy stood, too, seemingly unaware of the unprecedented zing of physical attraction flowing through her.