The Cowboy's Secret Baby: BWWM Cowboy Pregnancy Romance (Young Adult First Time Billionaire Steamy African American) Read online

  Farris had to pick out the horses he would take with him to sell in Virginia. Clarice helped him clean and stock the big horse trailer his dually pickup could handle, and she sat on an upturned bucket while he performed the maintenance chores. Perhaps this was the last time Clarice would enjoy the view of those tight blue jeans and the muscles they showed so clearly.

  “Professor Santana got that loan she wanted to renovate her chicken house,” Clarice remarked one morning by way of conversation. “I’ll have ready-made quarters waiting for me and just have to install my own locks.”

  Farris looked around from his tool drawer. “What will you do about furniture?” he queried.

  Clarice just waved her hand. “I’m a big girl. I can raid the Army Surplus stores by myself. Thanks to all these commissions I’ve been getting, I can afford it. – Professor Santana will start spreading the word through the grapevine as soon as I arrive.”

  Farris just stared at her, mouth grim. “What’s going to happen when your mother comes roaring up while you have clients?”

  “Actually, I’m planning on having some of the students build me a website so I can get most of my clients online. That software we shopped for together has really made a difference. I can make my drawings straight from a photograph.”

  Farris could only hope this sunny attitude would survive the slings and arrows Marion Saxe was sure to throw.

  Farris began his trip to Virginia two days before Clarice had to leave. The girl had gamely waved goodbye until he turned out of the long driveway; then she locked herself in her cabin and wept.

  Clarice had had to buy two extra suitcases for the new clothes she had bought here. Though she was still no fashion plate, she had begun to learn how to make the best use of her features. Dina McGee had even introduced her to an exciting new shampoo. It was like building a new Clarice, but from the inside out. Though the outside had become fresh, the inside and the years of torment would need to be freshened up as well if she was to feel whole.

  But not even her ‘new look’ or the professional adulation she had garnered could comfort Clarice now. She lay naked on the bed now, rubbing herself intimately and trying to recall the feel of big hands, their roughness strangely softened, and the warm lips and tongue that had caressed her in ways she had never thought possible. Then there were the grey eyes and that questing face. Farris had begged for understanding when he looked at her. In a way, he was a lost little boy. Maybe most men were inside, and they were just afraid to show it.

  Still, that made her own responsibility all the harder. Clarice stopped trying to pleasure herself and began to remember the mess she had tried to leave behind her. It was far better to face this than to run as she had initially planned to do. No, she needed to return home and deal with the monster she had lived with since birth. Marion Saxe’s voice still shrieked in the back of her mind, and she wondered how and why she had ever tolerated such persecution. No one deserves this type of treatment, not even me. She thought to herself over and over again as the time drew nearer to return. She began to coach herself, preparing for how she would face whatever came her way in the time to come.

  “I have to be strong,” She muttered to herself, “I have to be strong for me and my future happiness. That is all there is to it.”

  But deep down she knew it would never be that simple, then again, nothing ever was.

  Clarice had also conversed with several psychologists and read a few professional texts online on her situation. She knew that the road to independence was going to be filled with pitfalls and difficulties, but it was the path she knew she needed to take if she ever wanted any form of happiness in this life. She loved Farris dearly, but her love would have to wait until after the dust had settled from this whole mess with her tyrant of a mother. There was old habits she would have to break, things engraved in her from an early age that needed to be dealt with according. She also knew that her mother would never allow this to happen with a hard core fight, and the storm of her anger was brewing.

  Still, Clarice had made some progress. Terry McGee’s gentle exposition of the facts of financial life had made her realize just how Marion was cheating her. For years she had dealt with her mother’s reign, somehow feeling that this was the way that life was supposed to be for her, as if it was her fate to forever deal with a heartless and greedy woman controlling her life. Now she was beginning to assume her own financial responsibility and take control of her own life in the meantime. Then she had deliberately refused Farris’s offer of marriage, which was the hardest decision she has ever had to make. A choice that, at least for now, had to be made. That was the thing she had most wanted and that was to stay on his farm and in his arms forever. She would find her way back.

  Chapter 7

  Marion Saxe stalked up and down the tarmac of the small private airfield near her home. Today, her disobedient daughter who had become famous was coming home, and Marion planned to reassert her control immediately.

  A neatly dressed man in his thirties walked up to the stalking human tigress. “Mrs. Saxe, I presume?”

  Marion turned on her high heel, snarling. “What’s it to you?” she responded nastily, glaring at him.

  “Merely that I am Patrick Underhill, Miss Clarice Saxe’s attorney.” The young man offered his card. “I’m here today to drive Miss Saxe to Sewanee and to summon the authorities if you persist in attempting to contact her here.”

  Marion reared back, offended. “Now, see here, Mr. Underhill, Clarice Saxe is my daughter. We may have quarreled, but you have no right to try to come between us.”

  Underhill drew some papers from his suit pocket. “According to our information, Clarice Saxe is 26 years old and therefore beyond the age of parental authority,” he told her coolly.

  “We’ll see about that!” Marion snapped. “Just wait until the little bitch sees that I’ve come to get her. We’ll see what kind of authority you have then!” She resumed her pacing, not noticing that the young man had begun talking quietly with the ground control officer on duty.

  Marion’s mind was whirling. – She should never have allowed Clarice to take that commission in Kentucky, but, at the time, she could think of no way to prevent it. Certainly nobody would believe that she, Marion, had suddenly become so ill she needed the younger woman to take care of her. - Now she was stuck with a mess to untangle.

  A small private plane appeared in the sky. Judging from the ground control officer’s activity, it was attempting to land. Patrick Underhill had already taken out binoculars to study the craft, which meant he knew the serial number of the plane he was seeking. Marion herself had no doubt at all who was in that airplane. Very few planes except occasional FedEx puddle jumpers used this field. - She and Underhill both sprinted for the plane as it landed.

  Abruptly, the aircraft door opened, and its lean, rangy pilot stood in the doorway. “Mr. Underhill,” he called, “have you got unwelcome company?”

  “Yes!” the lawyer yelled. “Hunker down!”

  “You fool!” Marion ran up to Underhill. “That passenger can’t stay in the plane all day, and there’s no other landing field within at least 50 miles. Is that pilot planning to pretend like its World War I?”

  “No,” Underhill replied equably. “He’s just waiting for the ground control officer to summon the authorities to insure you don’t interfere with the transfer of Miss Saxe and her luggage to my automobile.”

  Marion frowned, thinking through her options. As a landlord, she had some knowledge of authority and its limits. Now was time for an apparent surrender. “Very well,” she said sweetly, “I’ll just stand over here by my car and watch my daughter disembark. Your officers can join me and insure that I stay put.” – Not for nothing had Marion been known as ‘Leather Lungs’ in her youth. She knew exactly how to make Clarice fold up and come crawling back.

  After about ten minutes, a couple of embarrassed patrol officers walked up to bracket her. “We just want to keep everything nice and peaceable
here, Mrs. Saxe,” one of them muttered soothingly. “We’re sure you do, too.”

  Underhill’s closed car had now pulled up to the plane, and the pilot emerged, carrying luggage. The ground control officer mounted the bottom step to relieve him of his burden, then transfer it to the trunk of the lawyer’s car. This process was repeated three times, and then Clarice started down the steps.

  Truthfully, the only change in Clarice’s appearance was a more flattering haircut than usual, but Marion knew just how to work her daughter. Standing in her place, she bellowed, “You stupid little slut, you’ve come home pregnant!”

  Clarice closed her eyes and stood still a moment, obviously gathering her courage. “Thanks, Mother!” she yelled back. “I’ll pick up a test kit first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Remember, I own your car,” Marion yelled back. The car was legally in her name, and the license renewal came to her address.

  “I’ll just have to pick up a clunker,” Clarice called back sweetly as she went around the car on Underhill’s arm.

  Underhill had pulled out onto the two-lane state road before he noticed that Clarice was crying, almost doubled up in her seat. “You know your mother was just trying to get to you,” he asserted quietly. “There’s no way in the world she could determine your condition from that distance.”

  “But it could be true,” Clarice blubbered, already awash in guilt. “We’d just have to have been a little careless once. - Just let me cry a little, and I’ll get my head on straight and deal with the consequences.”

  Underhill remained silent for some time, concentrating on the winding road. He knew enough of her situation to allow her some private time.

  After nearly half an hour, Clarice roused herself. “I can lease a car from a local dealer if Prof Santana hasn’t found me one yet. I can probably arrange a rental on the phone. Then I can go get a pregnancy test kit. Bless Terry McGee for helping me navigate the healthcare.gov site! I didn’t even qualify for any of their discounts, but I’ve now got coverage that will work in Tennessee. And I’ve got a way to fulfill my commissions’ right at home, so I can take care of the baby.”

  “I’m glad to see you thinking and planning again,” Underhill remarked. “If you remember, we already covered some of this ground before you left Kentucky. – But you don’t want to get ahead of yourself. Let’s just get you to this place Professor Santana has fixed up for you and go from there.”

  “You’re right, of course,” Clarice told him. “I’m jumping the gun again, and this probably won’t be the last time. I do need transportation of my own, though. Something tells me I’m going to be burning up the highway between Sewanee and Nashville, where all the mental health professionals are.”

  “Tell you what I’ll do,” Underhill offered in a placating voice. “I’ll stop by a drugstore before we get out into the boonies and pick you up a kit. Lawyers sometimes wind up doing things like that for a client.” He himself was anxious to get the pregnancy problem settled, then he’d know exactly what was really on his plate.

  Clarice had never doubted for a second that the pregnancy test would be positive. That was what she got for thinking she could care about a man without getting an immediate prescription for The Pill. She had realized over her months of freedom just how her mother had used her like a puppet, but she had never been able to quell the influence of that voice in her head. Doing that was going to take a lot of therapy, she thought grimly, and a lot of nerve-wrenching change.

  Chapter 8

  In the meantime, Lea Santana had prepared the best possible rental home for her. The old chicken house was cited on an acre of scrub land that some farmer had once decided was only good for raising poultry. While the structure wasn’t as large or welcoming as the garage apartment Marion Saxe had provided, it was adequate for Clarice’s purposes and even possessed all modern conveniences.

  Now Clarice parted the rather dull curtains and looked out at the scruffy looking, ten-year-old pick-up a visiting professor of geology had sold her for ready cash. The local garage had assured her the battered Chevy was in good condition mechanically and would be simple to service. – Also, she thought ruefully, the thing was fortunately low enough to the ground so she could get in and out of it in her current state.

  Clarice didn’t dare think about Farris. Sooner or later, word of her condition would get back to him, and then she was going to have to be very, very firm. She would raise this baby alone, under her surname. Under no circumstances would Clarice accept money from him, except as commissions for work performed. She did not intend to be another Lauren Bonner, dragging down poor Farris like an anchor.

  As it was, Terry McGee, Farris’s business manager, had out of the goodness of his heart taught her how to handle her finances like an adult. McGee’s genuinely shocked responses to her childish assumptions had shown her how very much out of kilter her life really was. She decided to retire early and headed to her new bedroom for a rest, laying down and attempting to block all thoughts of him from her mind.

  “Farris what are you doing here?” She opened the door looking confused, not to mention slightly frustrated.

  “I needed to see you Clarice,” She pushed his way into her home, backing her into the dimly lit room. His eyes were lit up with the fire of passion, “I need you in my arms once again.”

  “But Farris, with everything going on I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here.” She gazed into his eyes deeply.

  “Just one night,” He cried out and grasped her tightly by the waist, pulling her in for a long, deep kiss.

  She couldn’t resist his charms and soon her own body betrayed her. She could feel the wetness dripped down her leg as they stood, locked in deep embrace. His hands found their way down to her mound, grasping her desperately. She let out a gasp, a mixture of shock and pleasure. This was what she had missed as much as anything else, the feel of his large hands on her body. Her knees weakened from the consistent massage of his fingers, twirling sensually around her clitoris. Her felt her knees buckle and quickly scooped her into his strong arms, carrying her to the couch. Farris set her gently down and leaned over top of her, smiling in a hungry grin at her exposed skin. He kissed her lips once more before slipped her nightgown over her head, leaving her body shining out for him to see.

  “Your body drives me wild.” He smiled and dropped his pants, revealing a thick, throbbing erection.

  Mounting his love, Farris inserted himself deeply into her wet crevice, sending chills of pleasure soaring once more through her buttock and up her spine. He is so deep. She moaned and grasped hold of his strong shoulders. He grunted and thrust harder, deeper into her pulsing mound as Clarice cried out to the ceiling from the intense sensations. Her body was on fire with lust and love, combining into a mad rush of emotions and pleasure. She clawed desperately as his back muscles flexed and released from the work.

  “Cum Clarice,” He demanded, his thrusts growing more desperate, “Cum with me like you once did before.”

  They released together in a clash of moans and screams, the rush of ultimate pleasure coursing through her veins as he shuttered inside her. He gazed into her eyes once more and kissed her deeply.

  “Please don’t stay away from me for so long next time my love.” He smiled brightly, glowing from the satisfaction.

  ***

  Clarice awoke in a dripping sweat. What a crazy dream. She shook it off and began to rise, realizing that the bed was soaked with her own wet pleasure. That dream was deeply intense, bringing back thoughts of Farris flooding though her mind once again. She had to block them out, there were more pressing matters today.

  Clarice’s first doctor’s appointment was with a general practitioner who had been recommended to Lea Santana by one of her Nashville contacts. Even after studying the maps on her iPhone, Clarice managed to get turned around two or three times in the bustling city before she found the office. Parking, she discovered, was an even greater challenge.

  Dr. Cleme
nt Burtis was an older man with a reassuring manner and plentiful nursing staff. He ran all his tests in-house and, within an hour and a half, had all the information Clarice needed. Then he returned to the tiny treatment room where Clarice was shivering in a front-opening hospital gown.

  “Well,” Dr. Burtis sat down on a leather-covered, wheeled stool, “you are definitely going to be a mother next May, but I don’t see that you will have any physical difficulties. Since your insurance is in order, I can recommend you to a first-rate obstetrician who can explain all your birthing options. Physically, you’re in excellent shape for motherhood. – Now I want to broach another matter.”

  “I’m not going to name the baby’s father,” Clarice intervened quickly. “I’ll get a name for the birth certificate out of the obituary columns, like Mother did.”

  Amused by this outburst, Dr. Burtis quirked an eyebrow and continued. “Would you like to know the truth behind her little bit of chicanery? Your father is my patient; I have blood samples from both of you and his permission to tell you.”

  Clarice nearly jumped out of her skin. “You know who my father is? He’s a real person and respectable?”

  Dr. Burtis smiled. “He’s out in my waiting room right now. After all these years, he’s finally been able to trace you through Professor Santana’s banking needs. He’s a Trust Officer at one of our larger banks.”

  “That makes sense; Mother once worked at a bank in Nashville.” Clarice worked hard to think when she really wanted to run screaming into the waiting room and meet her long-lost father. “Please show me the proof that we’re related.”

  Dr. Burtis rose and drew some computer printouts from the pocket of his white lab coat. Standing beside her, he carefully explained all the DNA points of similarity. “We do it all with mouth swabs now,” he explained. “I can collect that kind of information in the course of a complete physical.” Seeing the shock of joy in her eyes, he added, “Just dress and come along to my office. I’ll have him meet you there.”