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The Cowboy's Baby Blessing
The Cowboy's Baby Blessing
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The Cowboy's Baby Blessing

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She wouldn’t let it happen again. It didn’t matter how tired Rachel was or how much stress she was under, she couldn’t shirk her responsibility as a parent. As long as her daughter lived under her roof and ate her food, she was going to go to church on Sundays.

Period.

It wasn’t a huge shock to Rachel when she walked in the front door of her modest two-bedroom house and found her daughter playing a video game and talking to someone through her headset. Unfortunately, Rachel had expected it. Zooey didn’t even look up—not until Rachel loomed over her with her arms akimbo and a frown on her face.

At least Myst, a black cat with the most extraordinary emerald-green eyes, appeared happy to see her. He threaded in and out of her legs as she stood waiting for Zooey to acknowledge her, his purr sounding like a truck engine.

“I thought you were too sick to go to church,” Rachel reprimanded. “And you know you’re not allowed to play video games on Sunday.”

Even though their family unit was small, Rachel had always tried to make it clear that family time was a priority. In particular, she went out of her way to make Sundays special, a quiet time to spend with her daughter away from the technology that so often drew them apart. She stayed off her phone and computer and she expected Zooey to do the same.

“Sorry, James. I have to go,” Zooey said into the headset. “My mom’s bugging me.”

Rachel stood silently as her daughter turned off her video game, unsure of which part of Zooey’s statement she should address first.

The teenager’s disrespectful words and behavior or the boy?

“Who is James?” She forced herself to remain calm and not sound accusatory.

“He’s just a guy, Mom.” She used to know all of Zooey’s friends. Though Rachel treasured the time she could spend one-on-one with her little girl, she had always been pleased to welcome any friend who wanted to come over for dinner or join them while they went shopping or to the movies. She’d willingly hosted birthday parties and slumber parties and had enjoyed seeing her happy, social daughter having fun with her friends.

It was only in the past year or so that Zooey had become more secretive over what went on in her life. Her longtime friends rarely came over anymore—she seemed to have taken up with a new crowd that Rachel hadn’t met. Meanwhile, her grades had dropped to the point where she had to attend summer school. If Zooey had legitimately had problems with a subject, Rachel would have understood, but Zooey had simply not turned in assignments and, worse, had cut class on more than one occasion.

Though Rachel didn’t like to judge, she was responsible for Zooey’s safety, and in her opinion, some of her daughter’s current friends were questionable at best.

That was what had Rachel worried. She’d raised Zooey to be street-smart as well as book-smart, but she was only sixteen and, whether she wanted to admit it or not, was innocent and vulnerable. Those traits left a girl open to all sorts of predators wanting to take advantage, as Rachel knew all too well.

After all, Rachel’s life had drastically changed when she was sixteen. She wanted so much more for her own daughter.

“And how do you know this James?” Rachel knew her suspicion was creeping out in her tone. She had heard too many horror stories about creepy men stalking girls online not to worry or to ask questions. She wasn’t exactly sure how the game console worked, but she suspected it might be similar to a computer in the ability to connect with strangers. Zooey had been speaking in real time to whoever this James person was. For all Rachel knew, it could be a grown man on the lookout for a girl he could manipulate.

Zooey scowled and defiantly tipped up her chin.

“Check the attitude,” Rachel warned.

“He’s just a friend. My best friend Lori’s boyfriend. Nobody to worry about.”

“So you’ve met him before, then? He’s your age? You’ve seen him face-to-face?”

Zooey sighed overdramatically. “Yes, Mom. He’s in summer school with me.”

Not so long ago, her daughter had been a sweet little infant curled in her arms. It had been easy to protect and care for her then.

Where had the years gone?

Zooey was old enough to date, although up to this point she’d shown little interest in any particular guy, at least as far as Rachel knew.

Zooey used to talk to her about these things, but lately, not so much. The thought of Zooey dating frightened Rachel more than she could say. She knew it wasn’t fair to project her own teenage inadequacies on her daughter, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

Zooey was a different girl from the teenager Rachel had been at her age. Zooey was smart. Confident. Beautiful. Maybe too much so. There was no doubt she would be catching the eyes of Serendipity’s young men. And all it would take was one bad decision, one mistake, one misjudgment.

Life could change in an instant. She knew that from her own life and had been reminded of it when she’d been talking with Seth at the auction. Rachel wanted her daughter to be able to be free to chase her dreams, something Rachel had never been able to do, but in order to do that, she had a lot of hurdles to jump.

Rachel had been insecure as a teenager and peer pressure had overwhelmed her. She’d had body-type issues and high school bullies had sometimes fat-shamed her into doing things she would not otherwise have done.

That was how she’d gotten pregnant with Zooey—trying to find someone who would love her for who she was. But the boy had dumped her the moment he found out she was pregnant, accusing her of sleeping around and denying that he was even the father of her child.

He’d never loved her. Looking back, she was pretty sure he’d never even liked her. Rachel had found out the truth the hard way.

She didn’t want that for her daughter. But she couldn’t seem to find a way to express her concerns without sending Zooey on another rant, angry that her mother didn’t trust her.

Rachel didn’t know how to bridge the gap that was growing between them, but she had to try.

She sat down on the couch, curling one leg underneath her and turning toward her daughter. “I was thinking maybe if you got more involved in church activities, you wouldn’t feel so inclined to skip Sunday services.”

Zooey twirled a lock of her dark brown hair around her finger and didn’t say a word.

“You’re really good with my day-care kiddos,” Rachel continued. “Maybe you could teach Sunday school when fall comes. The preschoolers would love you. And I’d like to see you go back to youth group this summer. Didn’t you used to have a lot of friends there?”

Zooey wouldn’t meet her eyes.

She looked—what?

Frustrated? Upset? Stricken?

“Zooey?” she prompted when the girl did not speak. “What are you thinking? You can be honest with me.”

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” she mumbled.

“This isn’t about my feelings. It’s about trying to figure out some solutions that will work for both of us.”

“Well, I don’t want to go to youth group anymore. None of my friends go to church. They think it’s stupid.”

Rachel felt like someone had slapped her. This was one battle she really didn’t want to lose, watching her daughter walk away from the faith she’d been brought up in. But how could she stop Zooey from sliding down that slippery slope?

She pinched the bridge of her nose where another headache was developing.

Peer pressure.

Rachel’s breath snagged in her throat. She knew all about peer pressure.

Lord, help me reach my daughter.

“Which friends are those, exactly?” she asked through a tight jaw, barely restraining herself from adding that those friends probably weren’t real friends at all if they led her away from church.

“Lori and James. We want to hang out at the community pool and get a good tan once summer school is over. That’s where all the cool kids go.”

“I see.”

She saw all too well. But she didn’t know what to do about it.

Push her? Back off?

At least it was just suntanning at the pool.

For now.

“I’m not going to force you to go to youth group, if that’s what you’re worried about. But you should have been honest with me earlier and told me that you didn’t want to go rather than lying about being sick. You don’t want to participate? Then don’t. But please, be honest with me either way. And don’t make your decision based on what your friends think. I’ve taught you better than that.”

Zooey stared at her a moment without speaking. Rachel held her breath, praying she’d gotten through to the rebellious teenager. But when her daughter picked up the headset to the video game console, intending to hook it back up to the system, Rachel felt a sinking certainty that her words hadn’t had any impact at all. Reaching out to her daughter wasn’t going to work this time. So instead, she’d have to try standing firm. She stopped Zooey with a hand on her arm.

“You may be your own person, but you are sixteen years old and you are living in my house, so I make the rules. No video games on Sunday.”

Zooey’s face turned red and she dropped the headset onto the coffee table, where it bounced and then clattered onto the wood floor.

“I’ve had enough of your attitude, young lady.”

“Fine.” Zooey scowled and then marched straight out the front door.

“Where do you think you are going?” In her frustration, Rachel enunciated every word.

“Out. I’m going out. I can’t stand this. I don’t want to be around you right now.”

“Zooey, stop.” It wasn’t a suggestion, but the teenager ignored it anyway and shot off down the street on foot, not even bothering to look back.

Rachel huffed out an irritated breath and made to follow her, but just as she was leaving, Seth pulled into her driveway and exited his car—

With a baby in his arms.

* * *

Seth’s knees were weak and his gut clenched into knots in an excruciatingly uneven rhythm. His vision felt fuzzy and it was all he could do to plant his feet on the ground, step by agonizing step. The only thing that was keeping him upright was the fact that he was carrying a two-year-old baby in his arms, curled up against his shoulder and sound asleep.

The baby he had vowed to protect, never realizing that one day he would be called to do just that.

Grief sucker punched him, but he willed it back. He had to stay strong for Caden’s sake.

“I saw Zooey fly out of here,” he said, rocking back and forth on his heels and patting Caden’s back. “Is everything all right?”

Rachel nodded, tight-lipped. Her face was flushed red and marked with lines of strain. She didn’t look much better than he felt.

“Well...good.”

He hesitated. Obviously this wasn’t a good time for Rachel. He wasn’t even positive why he was here, except for a niggling sensation in the back of his mind that Rachel might be the one person in Serendipity most able to understand what he was going through right now.

She narrowed her gaze on him, studying him intently. “You don’t look so good. Would you like to come in?”

“Um, yeah. Thanks.”

He followed her through the door and took a seat on the plush armchair. Thankfully, the baby was still sound asleep on his shoulder. Seth hadn’t been able to get Caden to stop crying earlier in the day.

He’d tried everything to no avail—changing, feeding, rocking. Nothing had worked until the little tyke had finally worn himself out.

It was only one of many new challenges he was about to face. Despite the way his family had rallied around him, he’d never felt so alone in his life.

“Would you like some coffee? It’ll only take me a minute to make us a pot.”

“No, thank you.”

She gestured to Caden. “I see you’ve got Caden with you. I love that he has Luke’s blond hair. He’s such a sweetheart. Are you babysitting for Tracy today?”

This time he couldn’t hold his grief back. It burned like molten lava from his gut to his throat and he had to swallow hard just to speak.

“Tracy’s dead.”

Rachel’s eyes widened and she grasped for the arm of the sofa, shakily seating herself.

“I’m so sorry. I hadn’t heard.”

“To tell you the truth, I feel numb, like I’m in the twilight zone or something. Yesterday afternoon, she dropped Caden off at my house, saying she had a bad headache. She asked me to watch him. I thought I would only be babysitting for a couple hours.”

He blinked hard several times to erase the moisture forming in his eyes.

“Tracy...she...she passed away last night. She didn’t just have a headache. She had a brain aneurysm. One second she was here and then she was gone. I’ve been with my family since yesterday trying to process everything.”

“Lord, have mercy.” Rachel whispered the prayer. “Poor Tracy. Poor Caden.”

Rachel’s gaze was full of compassion, but she didn’t speak further, as if she somehow knew he needed to get it all out at once.

“May I?” She stood and held out her arms for Caden, who had awoken and was making tiny sounds of distress.

As soon as Caden was in Rachel’s arms, his crying abated. To say the woman was naturally gifted with children would be an understatement. Caden was responding to Rachel way better than he had to Seth or even to Seth’s mother or sister throughout the long, grief-filled day.

This was so hard to talk about, or even to think about. The circumstances were surreal.

He felt more helpless at this moment than he had even when he’d seen his best friend gunned down right in front of his eyes.

“You know how the Bible says God won’t give you more than you can bear?” he asked, his voice cracking with strain.

She nodded and ran her palm over Caden’s silky hair, quietly shushing the baby.

“I don’t think that verse is true. I think God has just given me way more than I can handle.”

He pulled in a deep breath and continued. “The reading of the will is going to happen directly after the funeral. I already know what’s in it. Luke and Tracy appointed me as Caden’s guardian should anything ever happen to them, but—I don’t know. I never thought it would actually play out this way. After Luke’s death...well, I should have realized whole lives can change in a split second. But it’s just not something that I wanted to think about, so I put it out of my mind.”

“There’s no one in Caden’s extended family who might be able to take him?”

“No, Luke told me that wasn’t an option back when he asked me to be godfather. Luke’s parents died in a car crash a few years ago. His grandparents are in an assisted-living facility. Tracy’s dad is disabled from a stroke and needs constant care from her mother. They’re in no position to raise a child, even their own grandson. Tracy has a sister, Trish, but I’ve never met her. Luke told me she took off for New York the moment she graduated high school and never looked back. She wasn’t at the wedding, and she’s never even met Caden, to my knowledge.”