The Texas Wildcatter's Baby

“YOU’RE SURE YOU want to do this today?” Rand asked the following afternoon.

They’d been on the go since early morning, managing not to talk about anything that had happened the day before, or how their wedding night had ended, at least for Ginger—in private tears and exhausted sleep. Rand, on the other hand, had lain awake most of the night, wondering how they were going to make this all work.

And not just in the public eye.

“I thought I’d made it clear that I do.” Ginger’s determination increased tenfold as his pickup approached Summit’s historic downtown.

The four-and-a-half-hour drive from Lake Laramie to the Trans-Pecos area of Texas had done nothing but energize her. “We need to get this postnuptial agreement done.”

Rand noted the vulnerability she had showed the day before had all but disappeared. And although he respected her strength, he resented the emotional distance she put between them every chance she got. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“Agreed.”

“But?”

He kept his eyes on the Main Street traffic. “I think it could wait until next week. Especially since it’s just a formality.”

Ginger adjusted her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose. “I never put off to tomorrow what can be done today.”

Wasn’t that the truth? Rand thought, parking the truck.

The two of them entered the brick building that housed Michelle Anderson-Garner’s law office. The family law attorney, a willowy blonde in her late thirties, was waiting for them.

She took a seat opposite them in the conference room, and handed each a stack of forms and a pen.

“For this postnuptial agreement to be honored under Texas law, there must first be a full and fair disclosure of property and other financial aspects of each of your estates,” she began. “So, basically, I need a detailed list of every asset and every debt each of you has, as well as any you may have accrued together. We can even go over who gets custody of the family pet, if you have one.”

“What about kids?” Rand asked.

“Children are not covered under a prenuptual or postnuptial. Those issues are decided in family court.”

“Can other issues be included in the postnup?” Ginger queried.

Michelle paused. “Such as?”

“Rand and I have agreed to run our marriage like a business.”

“Okay...”

Ginger sat forward. “So I—we—were thinking of drawing up either a contract or bylaws that would detail how we are going to handle everything else.”

Since when? Rand wondered, taken aback.

“That way,” Ginger continued, “we wouldn’t have to fight about things unnecessarily. We would already know how and where we’re going to live, and so on.”

Like most lawyers, Michelle had a remarkable ability to maintain a poker face. But even this, Rand noted, seemed to throw her for a loop. Not that he could blame the attorney. He’d come here under the impression they were only going to talk about financials.

Oblivious to the stunned reactions of the others in the room, Ginger carried on. “To be truly effective, our marriage contract should cover who is going to cook, or do laundry. Or, maybe we each should be on our own for these types of mundane chores.”

Deciding as long as Ginger insisted on micromanaging all this, he might as well get what he wanted, too, Rand interjected casually, “The bylaws or marriage contract should also cover where we live. How many nights and days we can be apart at one time—or not be apart, as the case may be.” He flashed Ginger a satisfied grin as his next idea hit. “Since both our jobs require travel, maybe we should stipulate that we at least take jobs in the same county.”

Ginger’s brow furrowed. Clearly she hadn’t expected him to speak much at this meeting, if at all.

“Obviously we still have some things to work out...” she said.

“Privately,” Rand added curtly. “And yes, we do.”

Her spine stiffening, Ginger turned back to Michelle. “The point is, Rand and I have both already been divorced once. Neither relationship ended amicably, probably because we both went into those unions too naively. We’re determined not to make the same mistake again.” Ginger squared her shoulders. “Which is why we want to work all this out now.”

Having absorbed everything his wife had said, the attorney turned her attention to Rand. Clearly, Michelle wanted to know where he stood.

“I don’t want to spend all my time with Ginger fighting,” he admitted. “So if it will help to work out all this stuff now, then I’m all in.”

* * *

GINGER EXPECTED THE meeting would last for at least another hour. Instead, Rand suddenly thanked Michelle and promised to make another appointment as soon as they had all the information ready for her to peruse.

Their attorney thought that was a good idea. It would save them on their legal fees, as she was billing them at her hourly rate.

Ginger did not want to pay more than she had to, for services. So she thanked Michelle and rose, too.

Moments later she and Rand were walking out into the spring sunshine. He had been in a mood all day. Quiet and brooding. He kept looking at her, too.

That was probably because he’d apparently had to carry her to bed the night before, when she’d fallen asleep in the bathroom. That was no surprise. In the past few weeks she had been falling asleep more readily and more often than usual. It was, she had learned, a symptom of pregnancy in the first trimester.

Her overabundance of emotions, too. Which was why, she guessed, she had gotten all weepy after they’d made love the night before.

Part of it, of course, was the fact it was their wedding night that wasn’t really a wedding night. At least not in the genuine traditional sense. And the other part was that, if things were different, she could easily see herself falling in love with him.

And she knew she couldn’t let that happen.

Not when the two of them had such different outlooks on life.

Aware he was studying her, in that same careful analytical way, Ginger asked the first question that came to mind. “Why did you cut that meeting short?”

“Because clearly we have some talking to do, and I didn’t want to do it in front of anyone else. Besides—” he pushed an errant strand of hair from her cheek “—it’s been a long couple of days, and you’re looking a little worn around the edges.”

Ginger made an unappreciative face. “Thanks.”

“You’re also pr—”

She touched her finger to his lips before he could finish saying the word.

He stopped, his lips pressed evocatively against her index finger.

Aware this was as close to a kiss as she wanted to get, now or at any other time in the future, Ginger swiftly dropped her tingling hand and stepped back.

Still holding her gaze with a wickedly sensual one of his own, Rand continued. “I figured you could use a little nap before we combine places.”