Page 15 of Secret Baby
A few minutes later, she ran into the kitchen, dropped her pocketbook on the counter, and headed straight for the refrigerator.
She heard his footsteps on the other side of his ranch house, but she didn't say a word. She gazed up at the loft, and wondered if he used that room as some sort of office.
Vicki took a quick glance at the clock; she had twenty minutes to prepare a feast. She found the potatoes and cut. Her jitters disappeared as she sliced. Her daughter deserved a good, healthy breakfast, and Vicki had been cooking breakfast for years now.
Ease returned to her shoulders. She chopped, and noticed the gorgeous brunette in the picture with Colt on the wall. The woman could be a movie star with those steely blue eyes.
The woman had height and muscles without being at all manly. With another swallow, Vicki assumed she must have been in the Marines, or a farmer, like Colt's family, to have won his heart. It wasn't the same woman from the pictures she was given years ago to prove that Colt would never love her.
A pain ran through her chest, but Vicki shrugged it off. She returned to the stove, shook her head, and stared in the mirror at her short blonde hair. She'd never be good at camping, never mind shooting anything.
Colt would marry someone capable of being in his life. She'd never be any competition for capable. She played music and designed wedding dresses, not fed horses.
With one more check on the pre-made biscuits, as she didn't have time or the ingredients to do it from scratch, Vicki shook off her wayward thoughts. The coldness inside her wasn't good. Colt had every right to get married. He was a hero.
Perhaps she'd find a way to be happy now that Clara was in her life. She'd come here for her daughter, not Colt. No fantasies and what-if questions. With a forced smile, she used her spatula and turned the potatoes in the oil, happy with the dark brown color. Good. Her cheeks no longer burned, either.
"Are you my mother?"
Vicki spun around, surprised, and gazed down at the blonde, blue-eyed angel in her pink cotton pajamas. Vicki almost fell over, as her arms ached to hug her and never let go. Instead she stared into the eyes of her little girl and glued her lips together. If she answered, she'd say yes. Instead she reached out and petted the girl's soft and fine hair. "Are you okay, sweetie?"
She nodded, though she didn't seem sure.
Vicki pressed her free hand hard against the kitchen counter. It took all her energy not to hold on to the girl for dear life and not let go.
"I think you are my mother." Clara beamed at her. "Were you at war, like Daddy?"
Vicki shook her head, let go of the counter, and went down to her knees. Her arms tried to swing around her baby, but she pressed her shoulder on the counter wall. "No, sweetheart. I'm Victoria, but please call me Vicki. I'm your new nanny."
Her daughter's eyes narrowed like Colt's. Vicki stilled as her daughter asked, "Are you sure?"
Vicki nodded faster. "I'm Victoria Morgan. And you?"
Clara twirled and giggled. "Clara Collins. You related to Uncle John and Uncle Peter?"
"Yes." A smile broke out on Vicki's face. "They are my brothers."
Clara's eyebrows squished together like Colt's had back in math class. Her chin lifted and she said, "At Aunt Alice's, I asked Daddy if you were my mommy, and he didn't say no."
Vicki froze. Every cell in her body wanted to tell the truth. Colt would throw her out if she said too much, too soon, but that wasn't enough. With time, they'd have to build trust and work together. Vicki's mind raced, but then, with a wide-eyed grin, she answered, "Your dad was surprised to see me again. We knew each other from childhood, and the last time we talked, we had a big fight. We talked everything out now like adults, and we're friends again."
The girl came closer, placed her warm, soft hands on Vicki's face, and stared. "I hope you stay. I like you better than Belle."
Then, before Vicki could ask her what she meant, the girl reached out with her small arms and hugged her. Her tiny body pressed close, and all Vicki could smell was peaches as she hugged her daughter back. Her hug was like heaven. Clara was perfect. Vicki closed her eyes and inhaled again.
Unsure what to say and to not break the hug, Vicki squeezed tighter. Her body screamed that she held her little girl now, and it was like she'd entered a different world. Her brain heard Colt's feet pounding behind her, but she couldn't stop.
Clara giggled and broke their hug. Vicki gazed at her in wonder. Her legs were shaky as she tried to stand.
Vicki's mind screamed to claim her place in the girl's life right now, and if this arrangement failed, she'd do whatever she could. Clara deserved a mother. Vicki knew what it was like to grow up without one.
Clara went to her father and tugged on his pant leg until he leaned down to her, and then they both whispered. Colt had an enormous smile, and Clara giggled.
Vicki straightened her skirt, and then her lips parted as she stared at the stovetop across from her. The food was burning. A gasp came out of her mouth as she ran toward the oven. Colt beat her there, and he grabbed a glove for the oven. She swallowed as her heart raced. He drained the oil out of the pan and dropped the blackish potatoes on a plate. He shook his head, a smile on his face. "I knew you'd burn breakfast."
She placed her hand on her hip to say something, but then stepped toward the oven. Her biscuits were too dark, and she cringed. "The biscuits are a little too brown, but we'll just scrape that part off."
Clara went and took a seat at the table, but Colt stood there and laughed.
