Billy carefully scooped up Beck with his right arm, carrying him to the changing table to get a dry diaper on him. Beck kept his wiggling to a minimum, just kicking legs a little bit as Billy drew the pajamas back up and then zipped the zipper, keeping Beck snug.
Together, they headed toward the living room, passing Erika’s room. Her door was still closed. No light shone beneath the door. Billy hoped she was still sleeping as she tended to stay up late and wake early. She probably needed far more sleep than she was getting.
They continued on to the kitchen where Billy slid Beck into his high chair so that he could put on a pot of coffee and then, while that was brewing, he turned his focus to a bottle for Beck. Before giving his son the bottle, Billy turned on the heat, and then lit the gas in the fireplace in the living room, and then carried first the coffee to the living room, then Beck and the bottle.
Beck was impatient for the bottle and gurgled his displeasure that he was being kept waiting. “Patience, little man,” Billy said, easing into his recliner. “You’ll have your milk soon enough. Let me just have one sip of coffee, okay?”
Beck emptied his bottle in record time and Billy did his best to burp him, shifting the baby against his good shoulder and giving him firm pats on the back. Beck’s hand reached up into Billy’s hair, grabbing little tufts and giving them hard tugs.
Beck was a strong little thing and growing by the day. He’d filled out a lot—if that was possible, considering he was a little chunk of love to begin with. It crossed Billy’s mind that maybe he should head back to Paradise Valley, spend a weekend with Mom and Granddad, and give them a chance to know his son better. He’d love to show Erika around Marietta, too. It was a great Western town, filled with lots of historical buildings and some new great restaurants. And then there was Grey’s Saloon, his favorite place for a beer. Maybe Joe and Sophie could watch Beck for an hour or two while Billy took Erika to Grey’s. Did Erika even drink beer? He was fairly confident she didn’t play pool.
And then he stopped himself.
There was no reason to take Erika to Montana, no reason to show her around. They weren’t in a relationship, and she wasn’t going to be an integral part of his life much longer. She was Beck’s aunt, or second cousin, or something along those lines, but he didn’t know how much of a relationship Erika and Beck would have once she returned to California. Billy wasn’t the type to stay in touch with those outside his own family. He never did the chasing, either. If a girl wanted him, they came after him, not vice versa. He wouldn’t hunt Erika down, not even when his travel took him to Southern California. Why invite trouble? And Erika was trouble. She was beautiful, desirable, and not available.
She’d never be available.
She was Beck’s mother’s family and he wasn’t about to hurt family, and he did hurt women. He disappointed them constantly. So no, Erika wouldn’t go with him. Which made him wonder, when would she go?
Which made his gut cramp because Beck would miss her something awful. Beck loved her and was attached to her and his little face lit up every time she entered the room. When he hadn’t seen her for a while he got fussy and restless, clearly needing to be back in her arms.
Billy dreaded the day Beck had to get used to life without her. Beck would grieve. He’d cry. He’d miss her.
But eventually he’d forget. Eventually he’d move on. He didn’t have a choice. That was just how life worked.
*
Erika stretched, enjoying soft sheets and warmth of the bed. She’d had such a good night sleep. She slowly opened her eyes, relaxed, content, wondering what time it was. Sunlight peeked around the blinds in her room. The clock read seven thirty. Erika sat up, panicked.
Beck.
Billy.
Throwing the covers back, she scrambled out of bed, threw on a sweatshirt and raced from her room. Beck’s door was open and his crib empty. She headed toward the living room and heard Billy’s voice. He was talking to someone, probably on the phone. But, arriving in the living room, she discovered he wasn’t on the phone. He was having a very long, one-sided conversation with his son.
Her lips curved, and she smiled, pleased. It was about time Billy started having father-son conversations.
Billy looked up and spotted her. “How did you sleep?”
“So good,” she answered, going to the fireplace to warm herself. This past week the mornings had been really cold, even as the afternoons warmed up. “Have you two been up long?”
“Since five thirty.”
“Oh no. I didn’t hear him crying.”
“He wasn’t fussing too much. Just saying hello. He was ready to get up.”
“He’s an early bird.”
“Granddad always was. I never liked those early morning hours, especially when you had to go to the barn and do chores.” Billy nodded to the kitchen. “Coffee’s made, but you might want to put on a fresh pot. That’s been sitting for a couple hours.”
“As long as it’s hot, I’m good.” She headed to the kitchen, glanced out the window over the sink. Blue, blue sky and a golden sun. It was going to be a gorgeous day. She filled her cup, added a splash of cream and one artificial sugar before returning to the living room.
“Want me to take him?” she asked Billy, indicating Beck.
Billy glanced down at Beck who was starting to look sleepy. “Maybe in a minute. He’s comfortable right now.”
“He does look very relaxed,” she agreed, settling into the corner of the couch near Billy’s chair. “What’s your plan for the day?”
“Besides showering, dressing, and getting in your way?”
She smiled crookedly. “You’re not in my way. I’m probably in your way, keeping you from doing whatever it is you usually do when you’re here.”
“Nope. For one, I’m not here all that often, just a couple of times a month at the most. And when I am, I’m usually doing laundry and washing the truck and trailer and getting ready for my next road trip.”
“No local girls to keep you company?”
“This is a bachelor pad. No women invited.”
“Seriously?”
“You’re the first woman that’s been here.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
He gave her a long, unsmiling look. “I’m not a man whore, despite what you think of me—”
“I’ve never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s implied in everything you say or do.”
“I don’t—”
“No, you do,” he interrupted firmly, but not unkindly. “Just because I haven’t fallen in love and settled down yet, doesn’t mean I view women as tissue—something to be used and discarded. I like women. I respect women. I’m not an asshole. I’m sorry I hurt April. I’m sorry she didn’t feel comfortable coming to me and telling me she was pregnant, because I wouldn’t have turned her away. I wouldn’t have told her it was her problem. I would have been a man and done the right thing.”
That was a long speech coming from Billy. Erika wasn’t sure she’d ever heard him put so many sentences together at one time. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“I’ve always taken my responsibilities seriously.”