Page 19 of Bryson

She had noticed that he stayed awake if she did, as if to make sure she was all right. It was not just now because she was pregnant; it had always been the case.

She had teased him about it once, accusing him of being weird, and he had lightly told her that he liked to watch her sleep.

So, after making sure his breathing was even, indicating slumber, she opened her eyes and turned her head to stare at him. He hadn't shaved, she thought whimsically. He needed to shave at least once a day. The shadows on his cheeks were dark, a startling contrast against his tanned skin. He was tanned all over, his body lean and muscular and very strong. He had incredibly long lashes, something she had teased him mercilessly about several times. The only thing that saved him from being downright pretty was the slight hump to his nose where it had been broken.

His forehead was high, his hair growing to a peak and now falling over his forehead and brows. Lifting a careful hand, she brushed it back, letting her touch linger.

Tears blurred her vision as she continued to stare at him. They were going to make a beautiful baby, she thought achingly. He murmured in his sleep, strong arms wrapping around her body as if he was afraid she was going to disappear.

Biting her lip and blinking away the tears, she closed her eyes and settled against his chest. He was going to fight her, she thought achingly. He was going to end up hating her when she left. It was not something she wanted to happen, but that was the way it had to be. She had no idea what the future held for them, but there was a child involved and perhaps they could come tosome sort of civilized agreement. She had to believe that or else she would go mad.

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"I don't understand." Sara-Lee stared at the woman who had marched into her office without an appointment. But she supposed that when one owned the establishment, there was no need for one. She had jumped up from her desk where she had been dealing with an irate customer's account as soon as she noticed who had pushed her door open.

"Bryson told me it's over; he said he's starting things up with Ms. Merrywood again."

"Well, he's wrong, isn't he?" Barbara had closed the door to ensure privacy. Taking a seat on one of the plush chairs in front of the mahogany desk, she eyed the woman who had yet to sit down, her stare measured. She would personally take her shopping as soon as Bryson came to his senses and placed a ring on the girl's finger. The black and white suit she had on was too tailored and made her look too mannish.

"I don't understand," Sara-Lee repeated, feeling foolish and flushing to the roots of her hair as Barbara lifted a derisive brow. "I apologize for sounding so foolish, but Bryson made it clear-"

"My son is understandably confused." Barbara flicked at an invisible piece of lint on her own elegant lime green skirt and straightened the collar of her matching jacket. "I had a very enlightening conversation with that woman and she's leaving the end of the week."

"But... but the baby-"

"I doubt there's one." Barbara had wondered about it as she left the cottage. "I have a feeling it's something she came up with to get Bryson to toe the line. I refuse to have my son falling victim to her schemes again." Her eyes snapped furiously. "I'm hoping I can rely on you to pick up the pieces after that woman has left."

"Of course."

"Good." Barbara nodded in satisfaction. "I would hate to think that you took whatever he said to you personally."

Sara-Lee felt hope flaring inside her chest. After Bryson had left, she had indulged in a bout of crying and half a bottle of wine. Now his mother was telling her that she had nothing to worry about.

"What if there's a baby?" she asked hesitantly.

"If there's a child involved and the DNA proves that it's Bryson, we will sort it out. Women like Ms. Merrywood rarely if ever want a child hanging around and spoiling their images. We will raise the child ourselves. I'm sure she would gladly hand him over so that she can go on doing whatever it is she does."

Barbara rose gracefully. "I will let you know what I need to be done." She turned at the door and swept a glance over Sara-Lee that had her cringing. "I don't expect you to fail me again."

"I won't. I promise." Sara-Lee hastened to reassure her.

"Good. I hate it when people disappoint me."

Waiting until the door had closed behind her, Sara-Lee sank down in the chair, her knees like jelly. It would not do to displease the matriarch of the town. People might talk behind the woman's back, but that was all they could do. The McNabs had their hands in every pie. Clasping her hands in front of her on the desk, Sara-Lee allowed herself a glimmer of hope. She might just become Mrs. Bryson McNab after all. With a smile wreathing her lips, she went back to work.

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"I hear the pretty little filly is back in town. When's she going to come riding again? I admire her form on a horse." Jack Michaels grinned at the fulminating stare thrown at him from the younger man. He was supervisor on the ranch and had been with the family from before Bryson was born. Jack had seen the little boy endure under adverse circumstances, ones that had never broken him.

His old man, the cruel and sadistic son of a bitch, may he rot in hell, had put Bryson under tremendous pressure and the boy stood up. He had become the better for it. Now with the ranch under his leadership, it had become one of the leading beef suppliers of prime beef in the US of A. He had introduced several things his father had despised, including modern equipment to make the work economical and efficient. Their beef was the best for a reason, because their cattle fed off the land. The organic vegetables and fruits had taken off like a shot.

He treated his men with respect and dignity and invested in not only their future, but their families as well. The rose garden was a showpiece and provided the delicate blooms to the local flower shops. He had upgraded the courthouse and the museums. McNab Crossing had become a spot on the map that brought tourists and show producers pouring in.

He worked from dusk till dawn and did not think himself better than the men he hired. That alone put him far above his old man in Jack's book.

"She's pregnant," Bryson murmured, giving the horse he had been rubbing down a pat on the flank to send the animal along with the rest grazing in the paddock. It was midafternoon and the afternoon sun was brutal. Lifting his head, he scanned the sky, a frown touching his brow. They were in for another one of those unpredictable summer showers that could cause flooding.

"Pregnant, huh?" Jack slapped him on the back with a hand that was as large as a hunk of ham. "Congratulations. You're going to be a daddy."