Maybe Baby (39 page)

“Mark's still here,” he said, “he continues to work with Derringer and, in fact, is training another rider.”

My heart sank even though I knew that it had no right to. Derringer was born for dressage; I should be grateful that Mark continued to work with him and train a new rider so that this horse could meet his full potential. Trey guessed that I was feeling downcast about the situation.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, “it was insensitive of me not to realize how that would affect you. It seems like I’m always saying the wrong thing, Tylar.” He pulled me into a hug.

“It’s okay,” I replied, “what a waste it would be not to utilize Derringer’s talents. It’s always been the horse, Trey. A rider's only as good as the horse he or she rides. I’ve known that since I took my first riding lesson.”

“You’re amazing, Tylar,” he said, “you intrigue me daily, it seems.” He pulled me closer, tightening his strong arms around me. I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. His fingers lifted my chin, tilting my face up to his. He leaned forward, kissing my lips sensually, lingering on them as if he didn’t want us to part. Finally, he drew back, his eyes searched mine.

“I know I haven’t told you this, and I should have long ago. Tylar, I never thought that I wanted children. I'm a selfish, controlling bastard at times and I felt I had no business being a father. But please know this, from the moment I knew that you were having our baby, my world's become magical and promising. I know in my heart that whatever I lack as a father, you'll make up for as a mother. I’ll depend on you to show me the way. Will you do that?”

At that moment I'd never loved Trey more. He'd recognized and admitted his shortcomings, but the important thing was that he wanted to be a great father. There was nothing more he could've said that would have made me any happier. I lunged into his arms once again, hugging him tightly. Our lips met and we kissed long and passionately. A noise interrupted us. Footsteps in the stable, then someone cleared his throat. Trey and I broke apart, turning as Landon approached us.

“Forgive me,” he said, a slight smile crossing his lips, “I didn’t mean to intrude. Trey, your parents asked that I find you and Tylar. Dessert's being served and apparently they want to make a toast.” Landon turned on his heel and exited the stable. Trey and I exchanged glances, unsure of how much he'd heard. Trey took my hand and we returned to the manor, finding our places at the long dining room table.

Champagne flutes had been set at everyone’s dessert plate. A servant was circling the table filling each glass. When he reached mine, Trey whispered to him. He left and returned with a bottle of sparkling water, filling my champagne flute. I looked across the table and met Landon’s amused glance. No one else seemed to have noticed.

Clive Sinclair tapped a silver fork against the crystal water goblet once as he stood to offer a toast. “To Thanksgiving,” he said, looking around the table at his guests, “and to the friends and family who we're blessed to share this holiday in celebration. Cheers!” He raised his flute, and then turned to his wife as they tapped their flutes together. Trey and I tapped our glasses and drank. From across the dining room table, I heard another tapping of silver to crystal, followed by Landon’s voice.

“If I may,” he said, standing up.

Oh shit . . .

I felt Trey stiffen next to me.

“I’d like to offer a toast as well. To Trey and Tylar,” he said, raising his flute, “and to the safe arrival of their baby. May their child be spared the unfortunate fate that befell my sister’s baby.”

Suddenly I heard a gasp around the table. Trey was on his feet in an instant, blue eyes blazing with rage.

“Landon,” he hissed, “Let’s take this outside now.”

Susan and Claudia were immediately at their sons’ sides; Clive and Nelson followed. It was if everything was unfolding in slow motion; voices, images were all swirling together in a giant collage of color and sound. The room was hot and my body felt clammy. I heard someone shout for Trey to grab me before I sank into dark oblivion.

Chapter 39

When I came to, my eyes met Trey’s worried gaze, his hand holding mine. I was in his room, lying on his bed, and I silently thanked God that I wasn't in yet another hospital room. He leaned over to adjust the cold compress on my forehead. I foggily remembered the family argument during dessert.

“What happened?” I asked.

“You fainted,” he replied, concern in his voice. “How do you feel now?”

“Just a little shaky,” I said. “I just remember that everything started swirling and it got really hot and loud in the room.”

“You can thank Landon, for that,” he snapped. “My parents think you need to go to the hospital, Tylar.”

“No,” I said abruptly, “no hospital. I’m fine now.”

“I don’t want to take any chances with you or the baby,” he said.

I reached up, touching the stubble around his chin dimple with my finger. He closed his hand around mine, raising it slightly to his lips, kissing it gently. His eyes warmly locked with mine.

“I love you, Tylar,” he sighed, a frown creasing his lovely forehead.

“I know, Trey,” I answered, studying his frown. “That’s supposed to be a good thing, isn’t it?”

He continued to stare at me pensively. “It just never has been for me,” he replied. He stood up, kicking off his shoes, and climbed onto the bed next to me fully dressed. He pulled me into the crook of his arm, placing his other hand on my belly. Within a minute, I once again felt the fluttering of butterfly wings beneath his hand. Trey felt it too, looking at me in amazement. I felt so relaxed in his arms, so protected and safe. We lay there, resting, his hand on my belly. The butterfly fluttered.

“Are you sure that I can’t get you anything to drink?”

“Honestly, I feel much better now. I’ve fainted before. I’ll call my doctor tomorrow and let her know what happened. If she feels I need to be seen, I’ll see a doctor here. Satisfied?”

“I suppose,” he acquiesced. He smoothed my hair back and lifted the cold compress off of my forehead. I felt totally better. I just wanted to stay here in his room with him.

“Have the Andrews left?” I asked.

“Yes,” he chuckled, “this is a Thanksgiving they won’t soon forget.”

“Did you end up punching Landon out?” I couldn’t hide the mischievous tone in my voice, secretly hoping that he had. He grinned, but shook his head.

“I was too busy seeing to you.” He held my hand now, our fingers interlocked.

“Do you want to tell me about it, Trey?”

He sighed again. “Tess and I knew each other before college,” he began. “She was a year behind me in school. Our parents had been friends for as long as I can remember. She was in college over here while I was at Oxford. Tess’s passion, like yours, was horses. She was studying to be a trainer. I'd finished undergrad at Oxford and was to start law school at Harvard in the fall. Tess was getting ready for her senior year at Virginia Intermont, your school,” he noted. “I bought Derringer in the U.K. as an early graduation gift for her. His bloodline traces back to Conversano, a black Neapolitan stallion foaled in 1767. She was thrilled when he arrived. The Andrews don’t stable horses, so he was kept here. Tess’s plan was to train and compete over the summer and into the early fall, and then start classes in the fall. I proposed in June after I returned from Oxford. I'd already sent Derringer on ahead, and my father had hired a guy by the name of Zach Flannery to show Derringer in dressage, they did incredibly well. Zach and Tess worked all summer together. I barely saw her, apart from the competitions. Zach lived on site here as well.” Trey paused momentarily, collecting his thoughts. His voice was pained when he continued with the story.

“There was a high-level riding school competition the week after Labor Day. It was one level below Grand Prix. Tess had been working Derringer hard in training for it. In truth, she'd been working him too hard. He'd aggravated a muscle in his rear flank. I saw him at practice right before I left for Harvard, noticed the injury, and I asked her to stop with his training until the muscle healed. She and Zach ignored my warning. Tess argued that it was her horse when I found out about it during a phone call back here. During practice a few days before the event, Zach was riding Derringer and Tess was observing from the middle of the arena. Zach was attempting the levade, that’s an air move where the horse—”

“I know what the levade is,” I reminded him.

“Sorry,” he smiled, “at any rate, due to Derringer’s muscle problem, he did not land properly; somehow Zach was thrown. Tess ran over to them and grabbed Derringer’s bridle, trying to calm him, but his front leg came down on her, pinning her to the ground.”

My eyes widened in horror, picturing this scene. Trey struggled to get the rest of the story out. “Tess was careflighted to a hospital in Nashville. I flew in from Cambridge. Her pelvis was shattered. Zach was at her side when I arrived.” I could see Trey’s composure waver as he recalled this part of the story.

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.”

“No,” he said, his eyes dark with anger or sorrow, I couldn’t tell which. “You need to know this part too. Tess was pregnant; the accident, of course, caused her to miscarry. Her pelvis was so shattered that it couldn't be repaired enough to enable her to bear children in the future. I loved her. I mourned the loss of our child, although I didn’t know until then that she'd been pregnant. It didn’t matter to me if we couldn’t have children in the future; all that mattered to me was her.”

I gasped, horrified at the awful circumstance.

Trey continued, “Tess was angry with the situation. She ordered me to destroy Derringer. I refused to destroy a perfectly fine horse over something that could have been avoided. I knew in time she would come to understand that, being the person that she was.” He rubbed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath. Seeing his pain tore my heart in two. “As it turned out, I guess I never
really
knew
the person that she was. The baby she miscarried wasn’t mine, it was Zach’s.”

“Oh Trey,” I murmured, reaching over to him.

“She told me that she was in love with Zach, that they wanted to be together. She said that she had never really loved me.”

“Why did Landon say that earlier, about our baby having the chance his sister’s didn’t?”

“Because, I've never told anyone the truth, apart from you just now. Until now, only Tess, Zach, and I knew the truth. I felt like she'd been through enough. I didn’t want her reputation crushed as well. It caused a rift between my family and me for several years, and only recently have the Andrews come around again. Tess let everyone believe that she broke the engagement because I wouldn’t put Derringer down. I never told them any different.”

“But that’s not fair to you,” I said, sitting up. “Why would you let people believe things about you that aren’t true? She would’ve ended the engagement anyway.”

He smiled sadly, pulling me down to him. “Because it wouldn’t change anything, I needed to let her walk away with something. Tess was, and still is, a fragile person.”

Just then, there was a light knock on the bedroom door. Trey jumped up and opened it, stepping aside to allow his parents in. Oh crap, I thought. I bet Trey and I had some ’splaining to do. Susan was at my side immediately. “How are you feeling, darling,” she asked in her sweet southern accent, “you gave us a bit of a scare down there.” She put her hand on my forehead as if checking to see if I had a fever.

“I’m feeling much better, Mrs. Sinclair, thank you,” I replied warmly.

“Now, there is none of this ‘Mrs. Sinclair’ do you hear? You call me Susan like everyone else does.”

I nodded, smiling back at her. I noticed Clive talking to Trey in hushed tones. Trey was leaning against the door, one leg propped back against it. He ran a hand through his hair. I flushed when I realized that Susan was watching me watch her son.

“Can I get you anything, darling?” she asked, sweetly.

“No, I’m fine for now, really.”

“Ok then,” she said, patting my leg. “We want you to get some rest and take care of that baby.”

Clive looked over, having finished his conversation with Trey, and bid me a good night, telling me to let the staff know if I needed anything. I wished him a good night as well.

Trey sat back down on the bed with a sheepish look on his face.

“What?” I asked, “Are you grounded?”

He chuckled, giving me a glimpse of that sexy dimple.

“Your dad looked kind of serious just now.”

“He says that I should move to another room to ensure you get restful sleep,” he said, mimicking his father’s British accent.

My hormones screamed ‘hell no, you don’t go’ in unison. He saw the alarm on my face and gave me a dimpled grin.

“Don’t worry, I told him that you called the shots, not me.”

He snuggled back against the pillows, and I looked sternly at him.

“Thank you very much,” I said, feigning anger, “now he's going to think I seduced
you
.”

“I can set him straight you know. There’s always the video," he said laughing.

“You're deplorable!” I was laughing too. He was playful again and I relished his humor.

“All kidding aside, it’s time for you to get some sleep,” he smiled at me as he stood up from the bed, walking to his closet. From inside he called to me, “Did you
only
bring sexy nighties?”

“Yes. Are you complaining?”

He returned with one of his long-sleeved dress shirts that would be longer on me than any of the nighties I brought. “Here,” he said, offering me the shirt, “put this on, please?”

I took it from his hand and held it to my nose. I only liked the shirts that he'd worn. This one was clean and didn’t smell like Trey. “I can’t wear this,” I tossed it back to him.

“What? Why?” he stared at me blankly.

“I want a shirt that has
your
smell on it,” I explained. Trey looked at me incredulously, finally getting the picture.

“Christ,” he growled in a not-really-mad tone as he pulled his sweater over his head. He unbuttoned his oxford shirt and handed it to me. “Here, is
this
one stinky enough for you?”