She stopped laughing. “What? Why?”
He was asking himself those same two questions. Why was his racing brain suddenly coalescing on Bernadette as if she was the answer to getting his life back on track? “If our positions were reversed, you’d say we need to work things out.”
“I would?” Her gaze softened.
He wanted to agree. And then he wanted to work things out with her starting with a kiss. Oh, man. He wanted that kiss more than anything right now. But his financial life was a wreck and his health... He was in no condition to pick things back up with her. “We need to work things out,” he said slowly, adding “for the baby.”
The warmth drained from her gaze. “We can do that through our lawyers. I’m calling Shane.” The way Bernadette said those words... The way she snatched her water bottle back... The way she walked past him with her spine straight and her head high...
None of it made him feel any better about their situation. “We don’t need lawyers to work this out.” Hammering out financial details was Holden’s forte, after all. And by the time the baby was born, he should be employed and able to contribute money to his son’s or daughter’s care and well-being. “We can negotiate terms ourselves.”
“I disagree.” She lengthened her stride.
Holden didn’t want to argue. Instead, he chose to follow and plot a course of action. And for the first time in more than a month, his brain was laser focused: Stop this woman from leaving.
Bernadette’s nose was still bent out of shape and in the air when she stomped into the tour office and grabbed Myrna’s landline, referencing a telephone number on her cell phone to dial.
“Mr. Monroe, did you fall in the river?” Myrna moved into the hallway from the café.
Holden shook his head. “Shortcake.”
Myrna gasped and then muttered, “Francesca.”
“It wasn’t her fault,” Devin said quickly. “Dad always breaks the rules.”
Holden winced.
“Hey, Shane,” Bernadette said into the receiver. “I need a lift.”
Holden plucked the receiver from her hand. “Disregard that last statement, cousin.”
Bernadette lunged for the phone, but Holden put his elbow in her way.
“Who’s this?” a young boy asked on the other end of the line.
“Who’s this?” Holden countered, feeling anything but adult as he fended off Bernadette’s reach.
“It’s Adam.” Adam was one of the little boys Shane was adopting, a sturdy, dark-haired cowboy of about six years of age. “You messed up my phone game.”
“Sorry, buddy.” Holden held up a finger in Bernadette’s direction. “Can I talk to Shane? I’m at a campground, and it’s important.”
“Nope-nope-nope.” Adam sounded breathless, as if he was bouncing on something. “He’s in the store gettin’ ice cream.”
“Can you go get him?”
“Nuh-uh. Mister, you never said who you was. And I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers.”
The line went dead.
“Shane is unavailable right now.” Holden returned the handset to the phone’s cradle, fighting to suppress a smile. “A little kid just hung up on me.”
“I’d like to do the same,” Bernadette snapped, reaching for the phone but not quickly enough.
Holden snatched it away.
She frowned. “I don’t want to talk to you, Holden. I want to go home.”
In the café, both Myrna and Devin were quiet. Neither looked at Holden or Bernadette, but it felt as if nothing the pair said would escape their notice.
Don’t leave. Couldn’t she see the plea in his eyes?
“You don’t want to leave, Bea.” Holden was sure of it. “I could see it in your expression earlier. Don’t run from this.” From us. Not that he knew what their relationship should be, other than not ended.
He was standing in a roadside attraction, soaking wet, elephants riding on his chest, practically begging a woman for a second chance. Where had the ice man gone?
“Don’t...” Bernadette pushed her glasses up her nose, blue eyes blazing fire. “You’re the one who ran away.” She sidled closer, lowering her voice. “You disappeared when I told you I loved you.”
The elephants didn’t appreciate the reminder.
Bernadette had confessed her love over fresh strawberries, warm croissants and properly chilled champagne in the Presidential Suite overlooking downtown Boise. She’d spoken while buttering a croissant, letting the phrase fall between them as casually as if she was asking what Holden wanted to do with the rest of the day.
And although her words hadn’t been delivered as a question, they’d cried out for a reply.
He’d been struck mute.
He’d thought they’d been on the same page. The women he usually dated in New York knew the page. Meaning matrimony wasn’t on it.
“It’s okay,” Bernadette had said, morning sun glinting off her shoulder-length blond hair. “I just had to say it. You know how I am.”
He did. She said what was on her mind. He liked that about her. And he’d tried to be honest with her about what he wanted out of their relationship—a chance to get to know a beautiful, fascinating woman and share experiences with said woman. But love—and all it entailed—wasn’t for him. He’d told her that, too.
And yet, Bernadette had told him what was in her heart with a steadfast certainty that she wouldn’t be hurt.
“Holden?” Bernadette stood in the tour office, awaiting his reply.
“I think I told you from the day we first met that I’m not happily-ever-after material, especially this year.” Holden forced himself not to gulp like a coward. He forced himself to hold on to her fiery gaze, amplified behind her businesslike black glasses. “On paper, I’m a bad bet. Unemployed.” Nearly bankrupt. “Stressed out. Just look at that little episode last weekend.”
Who’d have thought he could use that to his advantage?
“You’re a mess,” she said unapologetically. But she’d stopped reaching for the phone.
“Stay. Please.” The softness in his tone surprised him. He had no right to ask her to stay. It was selfish. But she grounded him. And that grounding made him feel like he wasn’t broken. Or dying.
In the café down the hall, burgers sizzled on the grill.
“Why should I stay?” The fire had banked in her eyes, but the warmth hadn’t returned. “I’ll just be in the way of your time with Devin.”
“We’ll talk while he reads. He’ll thank you for it. You know he will.”
Bernadette assessed Holden just as she’d done during his health scare. Clinically. Dispassionately.
He craved her warmth and compassion.
Almost of its own volition, his hand reached out to smooth her hair over one ear. The strands were soft beneath his fingers, as soft as the heart he assumed he’d broken after her unrequited declaration of love. “Please, Bea. If not for me, then for the child you’re carrying.” Yes, he’d pulled out all the stops.
She scoffed and pushed past Holden toward the display of cowboy boots. “I’ll give you until morning.”
A part of him knew that if he wanted to get his life back on track, one day wasn’t long enough. But he had to start somewhere.
And truthfully, when looking at Bernadette, she was where he wanted to begin.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I DIDN’T ORDER a root-beer float,” Bernadette told Myrna from a stool at the lunch counter when the tour operator put a cheeseburger and frothy drink in front of her.
“Sunshine, I can spot a soul in need of ice cream a mile away.” Myrna bustled over to deliver two burgers to Devin and Holden, who sat at a table by the front window.
“Or maybe this is my bonus for buying socks and those red cowboy boots from you.” While Holden had returned to the motor home t
o change his clothes, Bernadette had given in to the need for dry footwear and made a purchase from Myrna. She stirred her float with a tall metal spoon, glancing down at the red boots and thinking of her father. Would he be disappointed in her handling of the Holden/baby situation?
Holden may have changed clothes, but what he hadn’t changed was how he looked at Bernadette, as if she held the answer to a puzzle that had him stumped. When he spoke, he spoke slowly. “If the tow truck gets here soon, we can make Yellowstone without breaking the schedule. Stargazing tonight. Breakfast in a meadow tomorrow. Midmorning nature hike. Afternoon trail ride.”
“Why didn’t Holden get a float?” Bernadette asked.
“He got what he deserved when he rode Shortcake.” Myrna cackled. “You, on the other hand, could use a pick-me-up.”
“I guess that means you heard Holden rejected my declaration of love.” Bernadette ate the cherry on top of the root-beer float. “I’m not embarrassed.” And wasn’t that a big old lie? She wanted to sink into the ancient floorboards. But she held her head high. “Doctors don’t believe in sugarcoating anything.”
“Some might consider a lack of sugar a refreshing change of pace.” Holden glanced up at her in the midst of lacing mustard on his fries.
Despite the warmth of his gaze making her heart flutter, the memory of the taste of mustard on fried potatoes unsettled her stomach. She put her back to him. “Now, Holden. We’ve been through too much together to lie to each other. You’re threatened by confident, straightforward women. I get that.” It was one of the reasons she’d hypothesized he’d dumped her. “I did my residency with a doctor who never wanted to hear my opinion or that of his patients, for that matter. His name was Dr. Duntsch. But he will forever be Dr. Dunce to me.” A man insensitive to the emotional needs of others.
“I like women who speak their mind,” Holden countered evenly. “No threat here.”
“Oh, please.” That man! He could make her just as angry as the heartless, egotistical Dr. Dunce! She spun on her stool to face him. “When we were stuck in the ditch this morning, you didn’t want to hear a word from me.”
“One driver at a time,” Holden murmured with a twinkle in his eye.
“Drink that float, sunshine, and talk a little less,” Myrna counseled Bernadette from behind the counter. “You’re scaring away my customers.”
“What customers? It’s just us.” But fighting with the proprietor wasn’t what Bernadette wanted to do. She shook her finger at Holden. “If you like women who speak their mind, then why don’t you speak yours, Holden? Why didn’t you tell me you had a son?” If he could keep that from her, what else had he been hiding?
“Ouch.” Devin bit into his burger and ducked his head.
Holden’s brow clouded. “I tend to keep my private life private.”
“I was your private life.” Bernadette pushed her plate away. “You spend your days making chess moves with other people’s money, but beyond that I don’t know who you are. I don’t know if you’re the kind of man I want to be a role model to my baby.”
“Our baby,” Holden said defensively, dark brows drawing together.
“The way you ended things... Dropping me with no explanation. The way you treated me... Keeping me in the dark. You’re going to have to earn the right to be this baby’s father.” Even Bernadette knew that statement went too far.
But she was saved from backpedaling by her phone chirping.
“Is that...?” Bernadette scrambled to get the phone out of her pocket. “I have a voice mail.” How could that be when she had no reception bars? She held the phone up toward the ceiling, hoping to catch a signal.
Nothing. Just the no-service icon.
“It’s probably Shane,” Holden said dismissively. “Don’t forget. You said you’d stay until tomorrow.”
Why had she made such a promise? “What if it’s my lawyer with a buyout offer for my practice?”
“You shouldn’t conduct business while on vacation.” Myrna wrung out a cleaning cloth. “But if you have to, if you hike above the mine to Recline Point, you can sometimes catch a signal bar or two there.”
Bernadette hopped out of her seat and grabbed her water bottle. “I saw a trail by the mine entrance. Is that it?”
“That’s the one.” Myrna wiped down the counter as a white Suburban pulled up, filled with kids and a panting brown Labrador. “Here comes my next tour.”
“I’ll go with you, Bea.” Holden stood, taking one last big bite of his burger. “Have Myrna box up our food, will you, Dev? And pay for all three meals. You’ve got one of my credit cards.”
Bernadette didn’t want the burger, but it was important to pick her battles. “No need to come along.”
“No one should ever walk alone in the wilderness, Bea.” The tone Holden used brooked no argument.
And she didn’t disagree. But she wished there was someone else to be her safety buddy. “All right. You can come along if you don’t talk.”
“I’ll be fine here, in case anyone was wondering,” Dev said, smiling slyly as he reached into his backpack.
Bernadette hurried down the steps and headed toward the mine. As a doctor, she was used to getting in lots of steps every day. But she wasn’t used to walking in cowboy boots that limited the flexion of her ankles.
She slogged through town, past the provincial medical offices. She didn’t pause as she mumbled, “Dr. Smith’s Cure-All.” Could the elixir cure Bernadette of her anger toward Holden? Of her disappointment in herself for allowing him to break her heart? Or provide her with clarity about Holden’s involvement with her child?
Clearly, the answer to all those questions was no.
Bernadette marched on, simultaneously feeling her age and like the hurt little girl she’d once been when her older brother had accidentally smashed her toy teapot with his soccer ball. More than anything, she wanted to feel like the Bernadette of last year—a woman whose life was on course, if not exactly the course she’d plotted for herself over that child-size tea set. She had a fulfilling career bringing babies into the world. Each day was a joy. She’d fall into bed exhausted each night happy, if not in love.
She reached the trailhead next to the mine entrance, refusing to look back to see if Holden was keeping up. She was breathing heavily now, as if she’d spent thirty minutes running on the treadmill.
She hated the treadmill.
Her new boot sole slipped on a rock, and she fell to one knee. The sudden change in elevation combined with her raging hormones made her head rush.
Slow down, Dr. Carlisle.
A strong arm curled around her shoulders. A steady hand took her elbow. The man who’d broken her heart helped bring her to her feet. “I’ve got you.”
Bernadette leaned into Holden, squeezing her eyes shut against a sudden onslaught of tears. More than anything, she wanted this man by her side. But he had his own set of problems and a heart he wouldn’t give to her. She had to carry on alone.
“I can hike on my own.” She forced her eyes open and her feet to put distance between them. “Thank you.” Her mother had always been a stickler for manners.
Mom. She’d have to break the news to her at some point, and those grown baby brothers of hers. They’d have questions. They’d want to talk to Holden. The Carlisles protected their own.
How she wished that wasn’t the case.
“Well, I’m not fine,” Holden said unexpectedly. “Pump the brakes. This isn’t a race. I was just released from the hospital, you know.”
That required a pause and a glance over her shoulder with raised brows. “I don’t need to slow down.”
Yes, I do.
He shrugged. “But you’d walk at a more leisurely pace for a patient, wouldn’t you?”
She recognized what Holden was doing—slowing down to make her do so. It was kind.
Bernadette didn’t want his kindness. She didn’t want it at all. And yet, she drew a deep breath and knew that she needed it, or she’d be passing out on the trail at this elevation. “Don’t coddle me.”
“Likewise.” He moved around her and continued uphill.
She watched him walk away. Rarely did she allow herself to admire the human form. She was a doctor and had to compartmentalize the physical, much like a mechanic viewed engine parts. But Holden...
His shoulders were broad.
The better to lean on.
His waist was trim.
The easier to wrap her arm around.
His head was held high.
The way hers should be.
She knew if she looked into his eyes that she’d be drawn to the intelligence there, to the strength implied by chiseled cheekbones and the impudent set to his lips.
You’re in trouble, Dr. Carlisle.
At risk of falling back in love with the selfish, hard-driving, New York playboy.
They followed the trail at a more sedate pace as it wound back and forth around the point, until they reached the top and a large boulder.
“Recline Point.” Holden gestured to a boulder on the mountaintop. “It’s a big recliner.”
Sure enough, the boulder was shaped like a large bench facing the valley. It was big enough for four or five people to rest their backs against with their feet up. The clouds that had gathered around the Sawtooth Mountains were moving east, revealing jagged peaks jutting toward the sky. Far below, Frankie led Shortcake into the barn.
Bernadette wasn’t interested in the view. She set down her water bottle and unlocked her cell phone. “One bar.” Would it be enough? She logged into her voice mail account.
“Hey, Doc. It’s Shane. Can you call me back? I need to talk to Holden.”
“I heard that. And I’m not calling my cousin.” Holden took a seat on the boulder and drank deeply from her water bottle. “Sit down. Rest. You earned it.” He patted the rock surface next to him.
“My price...” she stuffed her phone in her pocket “...for sitting here next to you...” she waited until Holden turned his gaze to her “...is hearing the reason you ghosted me since my declaration in Boise.”
Caught by the Cowboy Dad Page 6