Page 79 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy
“You never understood me. Never. And I tried, Mom. I did try.”
“Not hard enough.”
“Ma’am,” Anders said, taking Mrs. Underhill-Whittaker’s hand in his as gently as he could when he didn’t feel gentle at all. Too many questions crawled around his brain.
“Stop ma’aming me,” she snapped and tugged her hand free.
“Can I drive you somewhere, Mrs. Underhill-Whittaker?”
“No. I have a driver.” She glared at Tinsley, and Anders. “And I don’t expect to hear from either of you about—” her eyes dipped briefly to Tinsley’s abdomen “—anything again.”
Anders, who could barely remember his mother but had heard nothing but beautiful and sweet memories and stories about her, could hardly wrap his head around a mother behaving like this toward her only daughter. Rejecting her and rejecting her grandchild.
It made his head hurt and pulverized his beliefs about women, mothers, his “perfect wife list,” and the life he’d hoped to build with Tinsley to dust beneath his boots.
Tinsley’s mother stood up, brushed imaginary dirt from her coat and headed out the door just as several couples walked in, laughing. She walked through them as if they were invisible; one of the men hurried to hold the door open for her.
Tinsley looked like she was going to be sick.
“Why don’t you sit, and I’ll seeyour motherout.”
Tinsley winced at the words.
Anders hurried outside, but Tinsley’s mom was already being helped into a dark town car. She didn’t look at him as the chauffeur shut the door.
He watched the car drive away down Main Street. Now what? He turned to return to the tasting room, his earlier good mood totally evaporated. Tinsley had followed him outside.
“Any other surprises for me?”
“No. Yes. Anders, I don’t even know anymore.”
He strode up to her. “You lied to me about your parents being dead.”
She nodded, swallowed. Her arms crossed over her chest, and then with an effort, she unfolded them and held them to her sides.
“I didn’t exactly lie, but I didn’t tell you the truth. I have no excuse, Anders. I have spent five years running from my past, trying to rebuild myself and my confidence and figure out who I am and who I want to be.”
“I can’t have lies between us, Tinsley.”
“I know. I don’t want any lies either. I grew up with lies. I was engaged to lies.”
“We are having a child. I want to raise that child with love and acceptance, and to believe in themselves.”
“Me too,” she said quickly. “I never had that.”
That much was true. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to let it go. But he should, shouldn’t he? Tinsley deserved his loyalty, but he deserved hers.
“Your family is so warm—your brothers, Cruz and Catalina, they have welcomed me. They are excited about the baby. Even Diego.” Her voice rose and then was choked off by a sob. She sucked in a shaky breath. “All I’ve heard about your mother is how loving she was, how wonderful, how gentle and kind, and I never had any of that. None of it. I’m afraid I don’t know how to be like that.”
The sense of betrayal cut deep, but even through that he felt her pain.
“You already are, Tinsley.”
She gnawed on her lip and watched as the town car disappeared down the road.
“But I have to have honesty from you,” he said. “If you’re scared, you come to me. If you’re unhappy, you take it up with me. If I upset you, you tell me. If I piss you off, you kick my ass and let me know what’s wrong. No more silence. No more secrets. And until you can promise me that, we have nothing to say.”
“Anders,” she whispered.
