Baby My Baby (A Ranching Family) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Victoria Pade
having kids of their own. On the few occasions when the subject had come up, he’d talked about adopting hard-to-place Indian babies at risk of being given to people outside of their culture when homes with Native American parents couldn’t be found.
But he’d only spoken of it as something far down the road, when he wasn’t so busy with work, and Beth hadn’t believed that it would ever happen, that Ash would ever have time to be a father to any child.
Any more than he’d had the time to be a husband.
The trouble she’d had reaching him to tell him she was pregnant wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sometimes she thought he must believe there wasn’t another person in the world who could deal with the problems and causes of Native Americans. Maybe it was a cliché, but it was true that the man had been more married to his work than to her.
The Blackwolf Foundation. Demanding wife, exacting mistress and needy child, all rolled into one package.
Ash was head of an organization he’d established with a portion of the substantial estate he’d inherited from his paternal grandfather.
Beth had never met her former husband’s namesake. The man had been dead several years when she and Ash first encountered each other, but she knew he’d been a renowned and very successful metal sculptor who had amassed a fortune late in life, a fortune large enough to make Ash a wealthy man and still help fund the foundation.
And the foundation did good work. Valid work. Necessary work in areas of drug and alcohol rehabilitation, in programs that trained Native Americans for better jobs, in family counseling, in aid for the needy, in college grants and scholarships, as well as keeping an eye on legislation that might help or hinder the rights of Indians, and helping to find legal representation for Native American individuals or businesses that ran into problems.
And Ash did it all.
He was a hands-on kind of person. When there was a problem—and there was always a problem somewhere—he was right there to see what could be done.
She admired that about him. She respected his devotion to the plights of his people. She was impressed that a person who could easily have used his inheritance to become a man of leisure was instead the first person to roll up his sleeves and dig in.
But it made for a lousy husband.
As the years had passed she’d come to feel almost like an incidental speck in the corner of the much bigger picture of his life.
His secretary had been more involved with him than Beth had. At least the daunting Miss Lightfeather always knew where he was at any given moment and how to reach him. Beth had rarely known even that.
There had been many times in the past when one crisis ran into another commitment that overlapped yet another engagement or responsibility and kept Ash away for so long that she’d begin to wonder if he even remembered he had a wife.
She’d tried hard to keep busy with her own work, but accounting was a nine-to-five job for the most part, and it still left her with long evenings and weekends alone.
She’d volunteered for his pet projects and programs, hoping that immersing herself in his causes, his interests, might bring them together.
He’d appreciated that, welcomed her help and her contribution, but before long he’d start to act as if she were his delegate, leaving her to represent him while he went on to other pressing obligations.
She’d made friends and built a social life, but somehow it wasn’t enough. Something was missing from her life.
And then, late one night, she’d realized she was just plain lonely. Deep down, depressingly lonely.
The oddest thing about it was that it had happened after a terrific round of lovemaking.
Not that their lovemaking wasn’t always terrific. It was. It was the one thing in their marriage that was an unqualified success. But each encounter in bed only made her hungry for more of him. More time with him. The chance to really get to know him.
But he’d only spoken of it as something far down the road, when he wasn’t so busy with work, and Beth hadn’t believed that it would ever happen, that Ash would ever have time to be a father to any child.
Any more than he’d had the time to be a husband.
The trouble she’d had reaching him to tell him she was pregnant wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sometimes she thought he must believe there wasn’t another person in the world who could deal with the problems and causes of Native Americans. Maybe it was a cliché, but it was true that the man had been more married to his work than to her.
The Blackwolf Foundation. Demanding wife, exacting mistress and needy child, all rolled into one package.
Ash was head of an organization he’d established with a portion of the substantial estate he’d inherited from his paternal grandfather.
Beth had never met her former husband’s namesake. The man had been dead several years when she and Ash first encountered each other, but she knew he’d been a renowned and very successful metal sculptor who had amassed a fortune late in life, a fortune large enough to make Ash a wealthy man and still help fund the foundation.
And the foundation did good work. Valid work. Necessary work in areas of drug and alcohol rehabilitation, in programs that trained Native Americans for better jobs, in family counseling, in aid for the needy, in college grants and scholarships, as well as keeping an eye on legislation that might help or hinder the rights of Indians, and helping to find legal representation for Native American individuals or businesses that ran into problems.
And Ash did it all.
He was a hands-on kind of person. When there was a problem—and there was always a problem somewhere—he was right there to see what could be done.
She admired that about him. She respected his devotion to the plights of his people. She was impressed that a person who could easily have used his inheritance to become a man of leisure was instead the first person to roll up his sleeves and dig in.
But it made for a lousy husband.
As the years had passed she’d come to feel almost like an incidental speck in the corner of the much bigger picture of his life.
His secretary had been more involved with him than Beth had. At least the daunting Miss Lightfeather always knew where he was at any given moment and how to reach him. Beth had rarely known even that.
There had been many times in the past when one crisis ran into another commitment that overlapped yet another engagement or responsibility and kept Ash away for so long that she’d begin to wonder if he even remembered he had a wife.
She’d tried hard to keep busy with her own work, but accounting was a nine-to-five job for the most part, and it still left her with long evenings and weekends alone.
She’d volunteered for his pet projects and programs, hoping that immersing herself in his causes, his interests, might bring them together.
He’d appreciated that, welcomed her help and her contribution, but before long he’d start to act as if she were his delegate, leaving her to represent him while he went on to other pressing obligations.
She’d made friends and built a social life, but somehow it wasn’t enough. Something was missing from her life.
And then, late one night, she’d realized she was just plain lonely. Deep down, depressingly lonely.
The oddest thing about it was that it had happened after a terrific round of lovemaking.
Not that their lovemaking wasn’t always terrific. It was. It was the one thing in their marriage that was an unqualified success. But each encounter in bed only made her hungry for more of him. More time with him. The chance to really get to know him.