“He’s kicking right now,” she said, laying a hand against the rib Baby Beckett was currently using as soccer practice and wondering if she should even make this small concession. She suspected Brody would have wanted it, which was the only reason she continued. “Would you like to feel?”
“It’s a boy?”
“Oh, no. I mean, I don’t actually know—I’ve chosen not to find out the gender until I give birth. Saying he/she every time I refer to the baby is getting to be too much of a tongue twister. I should probably just stick with Baby Beckett. It’s easier to say.”
“Yeah,” Slade agreed, his voice unusually deep and thick. “You know Brody wouldn’t have cared if Baby Beckett was a boy or a girl. He would have loved the baby just the same, no matter what.”
“He would have been a good father.” Her throat clogged with emotion. Their eyes met, and just for a moment they mutually shared the one thing they had in common.
Grief.
“The best.” The corner of Slade’s mouth ticked, a tell Laney now recognized as reaction to stress.
“Come here,” she urged, holding out her hands.
He looked reticent, almost shy, as he stepped forward and offered her his hand.
She laid his palm where the baby was moving and the child responded with a swift kick, then another.
Slade’s brilliant blue eyes filled with wonder. “Well, I’ll be.”
“Amazing, right?”
“Amazing doesn’t even begin to cover it.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to believe Brody’s kid is in there, just waiting to come out and say, ‘Hey.’”
Laney chuckled. “I’m not sure that’s the first thing Baby Beckett will say. You never know, though. Could be.”
One side of his mouth kicked up. “Close enough. Two months, huh?”
“More or less. You do know babies don’t necessarily come right on their due dates, right?” She had a clear mental picture of Slade hustling her off to the hospital just because the calendar said the time was right. That was just exactly the sort of thing he would do, exasperating man.
“On their own time, huh?”
“And in their own way. Each baby is different. Their own little person, with a unique personality. One of God’s greatest blessings.”
She half expected Slade to scoff at her for her beliefs, but he nodded fervently and curled the brim of his hat in his fist. “The very best of them. Especially this one.”
“I wish Brody was here.”
Slade’s gaze clouded with pain. He might not be the nicest of men, but there was no doubt he’d cared for Brody.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t keep bringing that up.” She couldn’t believe she was apologizing to him, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
“No. You’re right. Of course Brody should be here.” He turned away from her and punched at the air. “He should be here. Not me.”
What did that even mean? She understood the sentiment but not the anger.
“I’m sure we’ll both do our best to honor Brody’s memory.”
Slade turned back and shoved out a breath. “For Brody. We’ll give the baby the best of everything. Enroll him in football. Baseball.”
“Ballet lessons,” Laney added with a chuckle, feeling a crazy mixture of joy and sorrow. Grief was impossible to understand.
Slade looked surprised, but then he nodded. “Right. If it’s a girl. No way are we enrolling any boy of Brody’s in dance class.”
She didn’t know why they were discussing what they would do for Baby Beckett as if these were decisions the two of them would make together. Slade sounded awfully determined to be a part of her child’s life.
“Maybe he’ll want to take dance.”
Slade scoffed. “Let’s hope not. Of course, you do realize Brody would have taught his little girls how to throw a football, not to mention rope and ride every bit as well as his sons.”
Laney chuckled. “I’d expect no less from him. I’ll be spending the rest of my life in Serendipity. I would hope if Baby Beckett is a girl she’ll know her way around the ranch.”
“I could do it.” Slade’s statement was made so low she could barely understand the words.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Roping and riding. I could teach the kid how to do that stuff. Boy or girl. Either way. If you wanted me to, I mean.”
That was probably the nicest thing Laney had ever heard Slade say. He’d actually asked. Kind of. Or maybe her emotions were overwhelming her. Either way, her answer was the same. It had to be. “I’d like that, and I’m sure Baby Beckett will, as well.”
“Good, then. It’s settled.” His nod was no more than a quick jerk of his chin, his jaw tight and his lips pressed together.
Great. So she’d just sealed the deal. Slade was going to be a part of her child’s life for an extended period of time. Maybe always. Which by default meant she’d have to interact with him, as well. How had this conversation gotten so turned around?
“Brody had planned to reconcile with you, you know. Right after the rodeo was finished.”
Laney was so startled by the statement she gripped a nearby table for support. She was afraid she’d heard Slade wrong, but when she met his gaze, she knew he’d said just what she’d heard, and for whatever reason was sharing it with her now.
Brody had planned to come home to her.
And then that chance had been taken away from them both.
Slade’s thoughts were a million miles away as he pulled his pickup onto the Becketts’ long gravel driveway. Probably a good thing he’d made this very same drive so often over the years, seeing as he couldn’t seem to be able to keep his mind on the road.
Even after nearly a week of not seeing her, he was thinking of Laney and Brody and wondering what Baby Beckett would look like. Would the little nipper have Brody’s white-blond hair or a rich caramel brown like Laney? Laney’s chocolate-brown eyes or Brody’s light blue ones?
He had no doubt that any kid with Brody’s and Laney’s genes was going to be a cutie. However Slade personally felt about Laney, any man with eyes in his head would have to admit she was a real looker, the kind of woman that would cause a man to do a double-take if he passed her on the street. And while Slade had no clue what women found attractive in a man, he knew Brody had never had any trouble catching the ladies’ attention. Women had flocked to him, especially buckle bunnies like Laney.
Not that it mattered one way or another what the baby looked like. Slade was going to love the kid—purple, green, blue or otherwise. He would love Baby Beckett, and protect and defend the child against whatever life through at him or her. Teach the kid everything he knew about ranching. About life.
It was the least he could do, since it was his fault the child would be growing up without a father. He owed Brody that much, and more.
Slade scowled when he realized there wasn’t a single place to park in front of the Becketts’ house. What was the deal? If the Becketts were throwing a party, they’d forgotten to invite him—not that anyone had parties on a Monday morning. He couldn’t even take a guess what was really going on.
He pulled farther down the driveway and parked his truck