Calder Storm (Calder Saga 10)

“As long as the baby is healthy, I don’t care if we have a son or a daughter.”

“Me either.”

“You say that now only because you’re getting the son you wanted.”

“Naturally.” He grinned to let her know he wasn’t serious.

“That’s what I thought.” Sloan paused briefly. “So…do you want to hear the rest of my news?”

“There’s more?” An eyebrow arched in mild surprise.

“Indeed there is,” she declared, excitement sparkling in her eyes. “While I was at the doctors, my agent phoned. When I returned his call, he informed me that National Geographic is doing a feature on Yellowstone in the winter. The arrangements have already been made for a photographer to be there in November. Unfortunately, the photographer who was scheduled for the shoot was in a car accident and ended up with several broken bones. So he can’t make it. But listen to this. It seems he saw some of my photos of snowfall I took in Hawaii, and he recommended me to take his place. How exciting is that?”

“That’s quite an honor,” Trey agreed. “Too bad they can’t postpone it until next year.”

“What do you mean?” Bewilderment was in the look she gave him.

He regarded the answer as obvious. “You can’t go, Sloan. You did tell them that, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean I can’t go?” She bristled a little. “Why not?”

“Because you’re pregnant.”

“That hardly makes me an invalid,” Sloan retorted. “We’re talking about November, Trey. I’ll barely be five months along then.”

“But you aren’t talking about doing some photographic essay on a tropical island. Your destination is the snow, cold, and ice of Yellowstone in winter. I know you, Sloan. You aren’t going to be content to snap a few pictures of Old Faithful blowing off steam. No, you’ll be trekking into the backcountry, trying to capture an angle nobody’s ever seen before. I swear to God, every time you even think about getting your hands on a camera, your common sense goes out the window!” He turned from her in disgust.

Sloan immediately snared his arm and angrily planted herself in front of him. “That isn’t true!”

“Isn’t it?” he challenged with heat. “Not two minutes ago, you claimed that all you cared about was having a healthy baby. Now you’re talking about traipsing up and over snowpacked mountains.”

“You’re being ridiculous. I would be careful.”

“Sure you would”—a muscle leaped convulsively along his jaw—“right up to the moment when you just need to move a little bit to the left to get the shot you want. What happens if the snow gives way under you, and you go tumbling? How safe is our son then?” Trey demanded, then abruptly sighed. “I don’t know why we’re even arguing about this. They aren’t going to hire you when they find out you’re pregnant. They won’t want to expose themselves to that kind of liability.”

“I suppose you’re going to tell them.” She glared in accusation.

Trey cocked his head to one side, his gaze cool and hard. “Weren’t you?”

Her chin dipped slightly down, her gaze faltering under his steady regard. Then once again her chin was up and out, her eyes returning his look, stare for stare. “Of course I was. And you’re right. They probably will want someone else.”

He saw the bitterness of regret in the tight way her lips were pressed together. “You still want to do it, don’t you? Even though you know there’s a risk something could happen to our baby.”

“Life is a risk.” But her hands spread protectively over her stomach. “But I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if something did happen. It isn’t easy to pass up an opportunity like this, though. It’s exactly the kind of thing I love doing. I wish you could understand that.”

But he couldn’t. He doubted that he ever would. Still, he gathered her loosely in his arms and pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I’m sorry,” Trey apologized for his lack of understanding.

“Thanks.” She managed a small but grateful smile. “There’ll be other chances, though, after the baby’s born.”

Trey realized that Sloan thought he was sorry that it had been necessary to turn down this opportunity. Wisely, he didn’t bother to correct her.

“I’d better get back out there,” he told her. “We’ll be loading in the dark as it is. You’ll be careful driving home, won’t you?”

“Just call that truck a turtle,” Sloan promised.

After a parting kiss that lengthened into something more than a farewell peck, they went their separate ways, Sloan to the pickup that would take her back to The Homestead and Trey to the picket line, where a fresh horse waited for him. For both of them, the memory of their brief but heated disagreement was relegated to a back corner of their minds.

The rain continued on and off for another week, prolonging the fall roundup by an equal amount of time. By the time the sun came out, every river and creek on the Triple C was running full, and fresh hints of green could be seen in the autumn grasses.