Christmas Baby for the Cowboy (Sweethearts of the Rodeo #4)

Chapter Thirteen

Loretta

L oretta’s hand trembled slightly as she put the finishing touches on her latest piece. The special pens Taylor had given her for Christmas glided smoothly across the paper, leaving behind vibrant strokes of color that danced in the soft lamplight. She leaned back, studying the artwork with a critical eye. It was different from her usual style—bolder, more expressive. The pens had opened up new possibilities, allowing her to capture the raw beauty of the Texas landscape in a way she never had before.

She glanced at her phone. It was closing in on two a.m., and the RV was quiet save for the gentle hum of the baby monitor. Georgie had finally settled down after a particularly fussy evening, and Taylor was sound asleep in their bed, his muscular arm flung across her side of the mattress.

Loretta smiled softly, remembering the moment Taylor had presented her with the pens. He’d been so nervous, worried they weren’t good enough. But to her, they were perfect—not just for their quality, but for what they represented. Taylor supported her dreams of making a living as an artist.

She set the pens down carefully and stretched, her back popping after hours hunched over the Winnebago’s kitchenette table. As she stood, a floorboard creaked beneath her feet, and she froze, listening intently for any sign that she’d disturbed Georgie or Taylor. When no cry or stirring followed, she relaxed and poured herself a glass of water.

The cool liquid soothed her parched throat, and Loretta found herself staring out the window at the star-studded Texas sky. It was moments like these—in the hushed stillness of night—when she felt most alive, most herself. She loved Taylor and Georgie fiercely, but there was a part of her that craved this solitude, this time to create and dream.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, startling her. Who would be texting at this hour? Curiosity piqued, Loretta picked up the device. Of course, it was Dolly. Her eyes widened as she read the message.

OMG! Your piece “Rodeo Sunset” has been selected as the featured artwork for the Texas Rodeo Queens’s New Year’s Eve Gala. They want to display more of your work at the event. Please call Claire Thompson from the TRQ to discuss details… Only wait until business hours.

Loretta didn’t even bother to ask how Dolly had found out about that at this hour. She just had a way of knowing these things. Loretta read the message three times, not believing her luck. Featured artwork? More displays? This could be her big break. Her hand shook as she set the phone down, and she gripped the edge of the counter to steady herself.

The Texas Rodeo Queens was just one of several places she had submitted her portfolio to. She had hoped for a nice review or a write-up in their newsletter. She never thought about being showcased like this. They had chosen her work because they saw something in it, something worthy of celebration.

Loretta let out a shaky laugh. She wanted to shout, to dance, to wake Taylor and share the news. But the rational part of her brain reminded her of the sleeping baby and the fact that Taylor had to be up in two hours to go to work.

Instead, she cleaned up her workspace, picking up the pens Taylor had given her and lovingly putting them back in their case. In that moment, they were more than just tools—they were a talisman, her good luck charm.

Loretta spent the rest of the night in a haze of creativity, sketching out new ideas and refining older pieces. When Taylor’s alarm went off, she finally set her work aside and slipped into bed beside him.

He stirred as she curled against him, his arm automatically wrapping around her waist. “Mornin’, beautiful,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. “You’re up early.”

Loretta pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Actually, I’m up late. I have some news.”

Taylor’s eyes opened fully at that. “Everything okay?”

“More than okay,” Loretta said, unable to keep the excitement from her voice. “I got a message from Dolly a few hours ago. The Texas Rodeo Queens want to feature my work at the New Year’s Eve Gala!”

Taylor’s face lit up, and he pulled her closer. “About time someone saw how good you are.” He kissed her deeply.

Her toes curled, but before things could get interesting, Taylor let her go. She saw something flicker in his eyes—a shadow of an emotion she couldn’t quite place. But before she could dwell on it, Georgie’s cry echoed through the Winnebago.

“I’ve got him,” Taylor said, already rolling out of bed. “Take a few minutes to rest while I’m still here.”

It was going to be an ugly day. Good thing it was her day off. She’d have to nap when Georgie did. Still, it felt good to relax in bed while Taylor got Georgie his bottle and started his morning routine.

The next few days passed in a whirlwind of preparation. Loretta split her time between caring for Georgie, selecting pieces for the gala, and working on new art. Taylor threw himself into helping, taking on more of the childcare duties and even attempting to cook dinner (with mixed results).

It was during one of these hastily prepared meals that Loretta broached the subject of finances. “So, I talked to Claire from the TBQ Council again,” she said, pushing her overcooked pasta around her plate. “She thinks I could get a good price for ‘Rodeo Sunset’ and maybe a few other pieces.”

Taylor looked up from where he was trying to coax Georgie into eating some mashed carrots. “That’s great. You deserve it.”

“If they sell for what she thinks they might, we could have enough for a down payment. On an apartment in Last Stand.”

The spoon in Taylor’s hand froze halfway to Georgie’s mouth. “Are you sure we’ll have enough?”

Something in his tone made Loretta’s stomach clench. “Well, yeah. Why?”

“Right,” Taylor said, his voice carefully neutral. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

Loretta reached across the table, laying her hand on his arm. “Hey, it’s just an idea. We don’t have to decide anything now. I just thought it might be nice to put down some roots, you know?”

Taylor nodded, but Loretta could see the tension in his jaw, and in the way his shoulders had tightened. “Sure, we can talk about it more later. Right now, I think someone needs a bath.” He stood, lifting Georgie from his high chair. “I’ve got him. You relax, okay?”

As Taylor disappeared down the hallway, Loretta slumped in her chair. This wasn’t how she’d imagined the conversation going. She’d thought Taylor would be excited about the possibility of a more stable life. Instead, he seemed distant. Unsure.

She began clearing the dishes, her mind racing. Was she pushing too hard, too fast? They’d talked about getting the apartment in the new year, but maybe Taylor wasn’t ready. Or maybe…

The thought hit her like a physical blow. Maybe Taylor was having second thoughts about their relationship altogether. The life of a bull rider was nomadic, free. Was she trying to clip his wings?

Loretta shook her head, trying to dispel the doubts. She was being ridiculous. Taylor loved her, loved Georgie. He’d proposed, for heaven’s sake. But as she scrubbed at a particularly stubborn bit of dried pasta, she couldn’t shake the memory of her ex-husband’s face the day he’d told her he was leaving. He’d looked trapped, suffocated by the very life they’d built together.

By the time Taylor returned from putting Georgie to bed, Loretta had worked herself into a state of quiet panic. She forced a smile as he entered the kitchen, but it felt brittle on her face.

“Hey,” Taylor said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to be a wet blanket. I’m really proud of you, Loretta. You know that, right? I’m just worried about finances. With things so temporary for me, I want to make sure that we have enough money to keep the apartment once we get it.”

Loretta leaned back against him, letting his solid presence ground her. “I know. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have sprung all that on you like that.”

Taylor pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s okay. We’ve got time to figure it out. Right now, let’s focus on getting you ready for that gala. You’re gonna knock ’em dead.”

As they stood there in the quiet kitchen, Loretta tried to let Taylor’s words reassure her. But the seed of doubt had been planted, and she wondered if she should start preparing for the worst-case scenario.

*

The night of the New Year’s Eve Gala arrived with a flurry of excitement and nerves. Georgie was staying at the Campbells’ tonight. Kelly had said there was no way she was going to make it to midnight, so she was fine with watching Georgie for them.

Loretta stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the front of her dress—a rich burgundy number that hugged her curves in all the right places. She’d splurged on it, justifying the expense as an investment in her professional image. But as she studied her reflection, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was trying too hard, playing a part that didn’t quite fit.

Taylor crossed the room and pulled her close, his hands settling on her hips. “You ready for this?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Loretta replied, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Tonight’s your time to shine.”

Loretta sighed, resting her forehead against his chest. “I’m just nervous, I guess. What if they don’t like my work? What if I make a fool of myself?”

“Not possible,” Taylor said firmly. “You’re talented, smart, and beautiful. They’re going to love you.”

His words chased away some of the anxiety. But as they made their way to the car, Loretta couldn’t shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted between them. Taylor was saying all the right things, but there was a distance in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe she was imagining it.

The drive to the community center where the gala was being held was quiet. Loretta wasn’t sure what to say and Taylor didn’t seem inclined to talk. As they pulled into the parking lot, Loretta’s nerves returned full force. She gripped Taylor’s hand tightly as they walked in, drawing strength from his solid presence.

The moment they stepped through the doors, Loretta was swept into a whirlwind of introductions and congratulations. Claire Thompson, the woman Loretta had been talking with, materialized at her side, guiding her through the crowd and introducing her to what seemed like every art enthusiast in Last Stand and the neighboring towns.

Loretta did her best to keep up, smiling and shaking hands, answering questions about her technique and inspiration. But her eyes kept drifting back to Taylor, who hovered at the edges of the crowd, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

During a lull in the conversations, Loretta made her way back to him, slipping her arm through his. “You okay?” she asked softly.

Taylor plastered on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Course. This is your night. Don’t worry about me.”

Before she could press further, Claire appeared again. “Loretta, darling, there’s someone you simply must meet. He’s very interested in commissioning a piece.”

Loretta hesitated, looking at Taylor. He gave her a small nod. “Go on, I’ll be fine. I’m going to grab a drink.”

As Claire led her away, Loretta glanced back over her shoulder. Taylor was already moving toward the bar, his shoulders set in a tense line. The sight made her heart ache, but she forced herself to focus on the conversation at hand.

The next hour passed in a blur of networking and discussions about her art. Loretta found herself warming to the attention, her initial nervousness fading as she talked about her work. These people understood her passion, appreciated the effort and emotion she poured into each piece. It was intoxicating.

But every time she caught sight of Taylor, standing alone or making awkward small talk with other guests, guilt gnawed at her. Was she dragging him into a life he never asked for?

Finally, as the clock ticked closer to midnight, Loretta managed to extricate herself from a lengthy discussion about color theory. She scanned the room for Taylor, spotting him out on the balcony, staring out at the stars.

She made her way to him, shivering slightly as the cool night air hit her bare shoulders. “Hey, stranger,” she said softly.

Taylor turned, a tired smile on his face. “Hey, yourself. Having fun?”

Loretta leaned against the railing beside him. “It’s overwhelming. But in a good way, I think.” She paused, studying his profile. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much tonight.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said quickly. “This is your moment. You should enjoy it.”

“It doesn’t feel right without you by my side,” Loretta admitted. She reached out, taking his hand in hers. “Talk to me, Taylor. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Taylor was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost resigned. “I’m proud of you, Loretta. So damn proud. But watching you tonight, I can’t help feeling like a bit of a failure.”

She gasped. “No, that’s not true.”

He shook his head. “Let me finish. I don’t have a steady job. I feel useless. I’m wondering what I’m bringing to the table.”

“You bring love to the table. Love for me and our son.” But was love enough? Was she enough for Taylor?

Inside, the countdown to midnight began. Loretta could hear the excited shouts of the partygoers, but it seemed distant, unimportant. All that mattered was the man in front of her, the father of her child.

“Taylor Keating, I love you. Not because I need you to support me or because you fit into some perfect picture of what my life should be. I love you because you’re kind, and brave, and you make me laugh even on my worst days. I love you because you’re an amazing father to Georgie and because you push me to be better, to dream bigger.”

Taylor finally met her gaze, his eyes conflicted and unsure. “Loretta, I—”

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The countdown grew louder.

Loretta pressed on, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I don’t want you to feel trapped, though.”

“Seven! Six! Five!”

Taylor’s hands came up to cup her face, his touch achingly gentle. “I don’t feel trapped. I feel like I should be doing something.”

“Four! Three!”

Loretta covered his hands with her own, her heart pounding. “You already are. You’re everything we need, everything I want. I choose you, Taylor. Today, tomorrow, and every day after.”

“Two! One!”

As the crowd inside erupted in cheers of “Happy New Year!” Taylor pulled Loretta close, capturing her lips in a kiss that spoke volumes. It was tender and passionate, an apology and a promise all rolled into one. Loretta melted into him, pouring all her love and hope into the kiss.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Taylor rested his forehead against hers. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”

Loretta smiled, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. “I love you too.”

They stood there on the balcony, wrapped in each other’s arms as fireworks exploded in the night sky. The noise from the party faded into the background, and for a moment, it was like they were the only two people in the world.