Lee grabbed his hand. “Wait—It’s—It’s lessening.” And it was. A little. She shut her eyes, panted. “I’m okay, now.”
“Lee, you can’t even sit straight.”
Breathing through her mouth, she remained curled over her knees. Gradually, the pain ebbed. Within a minute, it disappeared altogether. She sat back with a sigh. “Must have been something I ate this morning.”
“I don’t like it,” Rogan said, his gaze troubled. “I think you should see a doctor.”
“Did Darby have cramps?”
“No, but with Danny she spotted in her third trimester. Turned out to be marginal placenta previa.”
Rogan glanced toward the bathroom. “Are you…?”
Spotting. “No. But the doctor said if it does happen I should get to a clinic right away. Not that something is wrong, but she’d rather not take the chance at this stage.”
His eyes held hers. “Even so, I think you should go to the clinic, Lee.”
She wasn’t a fool. She had a dozen things against her, most significantly her age and the fact this would be her first child. “Okay,” she whispered.
Rogan helped her from the chair. “I’ll drive you.”
Gingerly, Lee straightened her spine. “I’m not an invalid, Rogan.”
“Humor me.”
“What about your work? You’ve just opened your business.”
“And this is your first baby.”
She slanted him a look. “How would you know?”
He swiped her keys off the counter and walked her to the rear door of the apartment. “I just know.”
“Is that a lawyer thing, this just knowing?”
Before he ushered her slowly out onto the back staircase, he kissed her forehead. “It’s because I know you.”
Lee sputtered a laugh. “What? Two and a half weeks gives us a history?”
“Ever hear of déjà vu?”
Her heart echoed his words. “Don’t play games, Rogan,” she stated, heading down the stairs. “I’m not in the mood.”
At the bottom, he caught her arm, turned her gently around. Sunshine squinted his eyes, magnified their dense lashes.
“No game, Lee. I feel something for you. There’s a connection between us. A connection I haven’t felt in a helluva long time. Don’t ask how it happened so fast. It just did.”
Opening the passenger door of the truck, he helped her inside, before walking around the hood, jingling the keys in his hand—and all she could do was stare at him through the windshield.
If she had any doubts about their relationship, they slammed against her heart the moment he uttered the words.
Déjà vu.
Connection.
In her case, they could be one and the same.
She’d felt it the instant he’d spoken to her that evening on the dock, an invisible thread linked one to the other, humming through her blood.
He slid behind the wheel, turned the ignition. Leaning across the console, he kissed her mouth. “You’re important to me,” he said, voice low and deep. “It’s that simple.”
And you to me. But she kept the thought to herself as he drove to Burnt Bend Medical. Once this is over I’ll explain the true déjà vu between us. The thought had her clenching a fist against her stomach.
Rogan’s wristwatch read two o’clock by the time the nurse came for Lee in the waiting room. He couldn’t sit any longer. The instant she vanished down the narrow hallway, he headed outside to get some air and pace the small parking lot in front of the clinic.
Damn it, she would be okay. He had to keep telling himself that. But, God forbid, if something did happen…
Wrong direction, Rogan. Think positively. She’s a strong woman, mentally, emotionally. Sure, she was a little weepy. Wasn’t she entitled? Hell, she was pregnant; her hormones were jouncing all over the map. But beyond that, beyond the child within her—or perhaps because of it—he knew there hovered a fierce determination.
He’d seen that determination emerge a dozen times. In the way she told him she could find her own way to the clinic. The way she climbed into a loft to save his boy. And what about the days she’d taken him into her tiny plane while acknowledging his nerves, his tension?
In each incident hadn’t she told him all would be fine?
Still, he paced. And punched a hand through his hair as he glanced at the clinic doors. The pounding of his heart matched the rhythm of his boot heels thudding the asphalt.
She was okay.
And if not…it would be Nature saying this is not right and cannot work.
The door to the clinic opened and he spun around.
Keys in hand, Lucien Duvall stepped out. Their eyes met. Without a word, the old man headed for his two-toned pickup.
Over the course of his career, Rogan had learned to read people, to sense hundreds of personalities, behaviors and attitudes. Within a few minutes of chatting, he could peg whether they were honest or nervous or con artists or….
He couldn’t peg Lucien Duvall.
In the waiting room, the old man had stared at Lee until the nurse called her name. At her apartment Duvall displayed the demeanor of a schoolyard bully. Today, Rogan sensed a deep and lonely ache inside the man.
Abruptly, the guy turned from the truck’s door. Eyes narrowed under grizzled brows, he said, “You’re that new lawyer, ain’t ya?”
“I’ve opened an office here, yes. It’s above the coffee shop.”
“I know where it is, Mr. Matteo.”
Of course, the man would know Rogan’s name. With a population of eight hundred, Burnt Bend had village status. Newcomers were hard to miss.
Duvall jerked his chin toward the door. “Saw you come in with Lee Tait. You datin’ her?”
“I don’t think that’s your business, Mr. Duvall.”
The old man grunted. “Figured.”
The door opened again and Lee stepped outside, a slip of paper in hand. She shot Rogan a look, then to his amazement she smiled at Duvall, who stepped away from his truck.
Not liking the man’s questions or behavior, Rogan moved to intercept him.
“Hello, Lucien,” Lee said, approaching them both.
“You sick?” he asked.
“No, are you?”
Her quick response had him pursing his lips. “Thought I might’ve busted my arm,” he said.
“Ouch.”
His eyes drilled Lee. “Was putting Oliver’s truck up on blocks and the jack slipped.”
Rogan saw something change in Lee. It wasn’t so much a physical change as a spiritual one. Slowly her head turned and her eyes searched his for a long moment. “Oliver,” she said, “was Lucien’s son…and a soldier.”
Was.
Suddenly, everything clicked. This man was the father of her boyfriend—the one who died at the hands of a sniper.
Lucien Duvall was the grandfather of her baby.
Did he know? Rogan wondered. Was the baby the cause for the regret in the old guy’s eyes?
Rogan wanted to whisk Lee away from this depressing spot, this man who seemed to pull his sorrow around him like a cloak.
“Lee.” Rogan touched her arm. “We should go.” You need to lie down and rest.
“Call me if you need anything, Lucien,” she said softly.
“Huh.” With that he got into his truck and slammed the door.
By the time Rogan helped Lee into his car Duvall had barreled out of the parking lot.
“Friendly guy,” he said, starting the car. If Duvall had booted Lee aside, he couldn’t have hurt her more.
She leaned back against the headrest. “Oliver is the father of my baby.”
“I know.”
She rolled her head to look at him. Her eyes arrowed one question: How did you guess?
Rogan drove onto the street. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. What did the doctor say?”
“She thinks it could be stress, so she wants me—correction, she’s ordered me to take the remainder of the
week off, preferably to get pampered and waited on until I relax enough to sort through the maze that’s my current life.”
Looking at Lee, he agreed with the doctor’s diagnosis. Tension radiated from her body. Her hands clenched her purse as she stared out the side window.
“How the heck do I take a week’s vacation?” she muttered. “I’ll lose my business.”
“Who flies for you when you get the flu?”
“I don’t get sick.”
“Ah. Let me guess…you never take vacations, either.” He couldn’t suppress his cynicism. “This is for your baby, Lee.”
“I know,” she whispered, visibly sagging beneath his words. “But to answer your question, Peyton Sawyer flies Sky Dash when I have another commitment.”
Rogan nodded. “I’ll take you to one of your sisters.”
“No, just take me to the apartment. Addie’s almost due and Kat’s busy with her B and B.”
He didn’t like the idea of her staying alone—not since he’d learned of her pregnancy. “Your mother then?”
A humorless laugh. “No, thanks. The last thing I need is to live under a microscope again.” She gusted a weary sigh that traveled to the arches of his feet. “Just take me home.”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
“I meant my home, Rogan. Look, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Fine. Here’s the deal,” he said, trying to keep his hands light on the wheel. “The doctor said rest and relaxation. So I’ll give you a choice. We go to your place, and Danny and I look after you there. Or you come to the farm.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Women all over do this on their own.”
“Not my woman,” he grumbled.
She turned slowly. “Okay. You are going totally hairy-backed caveman on me.”
At that he threw back his head and laughed. “I’ll have you know I don’t have a single noticeable hair on my back.”
“Be serious.”
“I am.” At the intersection, he flicked the signal left—down Clover Road, to the elementary school. “But first we need to pick up Danny, then we’ll go home.”
“If you don’t turn this car around right this minute, Rogan—”
He pulled to the shoulder and stopped. Rotating in his seat, he slipped his hand under her hair. “Look at me, Lee.” When she did, he thought the green of her eyes might swallow him whole. “I’m excessively in like with you. Maybe even more.” If he had the guts to be honest and lay it all out on the table, he’d admit he’d fallen in love with her.
“Rogan, I…you’ve…”
He set two fingers on her mouth. “Shhh. I don’t expect anything in return. Only that you come home with me and let me look after you. Please.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. There are things you don’t know, things I need to tell—”
“Lee, you can make arrangements for your courier service from my couch.”
“Yes, but…” She pressed a palm to her forehead. “What about your work?”
“I can work from home. Besides, having both of us there will make Danny very happy.” Okay, he was using leverage he shouldn’t, but he wanted Lee with him. He wanted to be there for her the way he hadn’t for Darby.
She leaned back against his hand, sighed. “Bringing some woman into your house is not a good idea.”
“Not some woman. You. And Danny will think it’s a great idea. The second you brought that toy digger, you hung his moon. Helping him down from the loft just cinched the deal.” Rogan stroked a tendril of hair from her cheek. “Come home with me, Lee.”
“Are you always this pushy?” she asked, resigned.
He kissed her temple. “Not pushy. Concerned.” Putting the car in gear, he reentered the road. “You won’t be sorry.”
“That,” she mumbled, “remains to be seen.”
Rebuking the gloom of her statement, he drove the four blocks to Burnt Bend Elementary.
Sitting in one of the two cushioned rocking chairs on Rogan’s porch, Lee called Peyton Sawyer and arranged for the former bush pilot to fly Sky Dash for the interim. Then she called Addie.
“I’m staying with the Matteos for a few days,” she said.
“Oh?” A world of questions revolved in that single word.
“Please call Kat and Mom for me. I don’t have the energy right now.” And she described her afternoon—from the minute she stepped into Rogan’s office intending to explain her relationship to Abner Air, until the present.
“How are you feeling now?” Addie asked solicitously.
“Perfectly fine. The cramps are gone.” All was back to normal, although exhaustion—something the doctor had pointed out, as well—had her eyes drifting shut.
“I had them with all three of my pregnancies,” Addie remarked.
“I don’t recall you being forced into a vacation,” Lee grumbled.
“Not a vacation, but I took a week last December because the doctor felt I was getting burned out with all the Christmas events on top of teaching and a gazillion other things.”
“Except Skip still went to work.” Her brother-in-law, a former NFL quarterback, taught and coached at Firewood High.
“Sure,” Addie said, “but he came home at noon and during study periods. He also let the assistant coaches take the team for the week.”
“Rogan wants to stay home with me,” Lee murmured. She peered over her shoulder through the window. He stood in the kitchen concocting tonight’s dinner that, he said, was a secret with nineteen herbs and spices. Lee smiled. Would he use some of the ones growing fresh on the windowsill, the plants she’d bought two weeks ago?
“The man cares for you, sis. It was obvious the day I got the leg cramp.”
“He says he’s so in like with me, and from the way he said it, oh, Addie, it sounded too close to…”
“In love?”
“In less than a month?” she wailed softly. “No one falls that fast.”
“Sometimes, Lee, that’s how it happens. Question is, how do you feel toward him?”
“I think about him a hundred times a day. Minimum.”
“That all?” Addie chortled. “So what’s the problem?”
“They’re not all good thoughts.”
“Okay, that’s bad. What are the not-so-good thoughts?”
Again Lee explained her reservations. “I was going to tell him today and then…”
“You had a tiny medical crisis. Okay, here’s my advice. Go tell him. Immediately. If he throws a fit, call and I’ll come get you.”
Lee shivered even though the afternoon sun had jacked the temperature into the seventies. They talked a few more minutes before saying goodbye. Minutes later, Rogan stepped through the front door with a pot of tea and tray of sandwiches. “This will hold you until dinner,” he told her.
“You didn’t have to do this. I could’ve come inside.”
“But then you wouldn’t be able to enjoy the day.” He set the tray on a small round ceramic table, handed her a plate stacked with sandwiches. “Turkey, lettuce, tomatoes, cukes, mayo on multi-grain bread.”
“Thank you.” She took a half, but didn’t eat. She wished she’d brought a heavier jacket and blamed her abrupt chill on the spring breeze sifting through the trees from the ocean. “Rogan, I need to tell you something. And you need to listen.”
She watched him pour the tea. Peppermint, she’d told him once, settled her stomach. He’d remembered.
“If this is about what I said in the car earlier,” he said, sitting back. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t feel the same. No, I’ll be honest.” His smile was faint. “I’d be heartbroken, but I’ll live. I have before.”
Meaning his wife and daughter.
Lee placed the heels of her hands against her forehead and shut her eyes. When she found her balance, when she could speak, she turned her head. “I used to fly for Abner Air. My plane—the one you flew in—used to be part of that fleet. I obtained it as a divorce settlemen
t. Rogan,” she said, watching his smile ebb, his mouth tighten. “My ex owns Abner Air. It’s him you’re suing.”
He didn’t respond, and it gave her courage. “I’d quit the company four months before your wife’s—that plane went down. However, when I flew for Abner, regulations were strict. If they hadn’t been, I would not have worked there, and that’s a fact.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” he asked quietly.
“Because I was afraid that maybe you’d….” See me as part of the tragedy. The way you’re looking at me now. “That you would judge my past.”
He looked toward the pasture. The horses stood swishing their tails in the sunshine. “If what you’re saying is true, that things were different when you worked for your ex, then your past has nothing to do with my problem.”
“If? That’s sounds convincing.” Lee pushed out of the rocking chair. “Maybe we should rethink my stay here.”
She plucked her cell phone from the table set with the lunch tray. Addie could drive her back to Burnt Bend, back to her apartment where she should have gone in the first place instead of listening to a smooth-talking lawyer.
He sprang to his feet. “Give me a minute,” he said, closing the phone in her hand.
“It’s okay, Rogan. Really. I wouldn’t want me around, either.”
“Stop. I’m trying to apologize, Lee.” His shoulders heaved on a breath. “Look, I’m a mess, I admit that. This issue with Abner Air has gnawed at my gut for three years, and sometimes I can’t think straight. But I made you a promise at the clinic, and I’d like to follow through. Please stay. If not for me, for Danny.”
Out of earshot, the boy pushed his toy vehicles around the roots of the old oak. Lee’s chest ached. In the car, the little guy had been excited to see her, babbling about his day and the videogames they could play together tonight.
“All right,” she said. “For Danny.” With that she carried her uneaten sandwich into the house.
Chapter Ten
R ather than focusing on what Lee had told him about her relationship to Stuart Hershel and Abner Air, Rogan listened to her sweet feminine giggles along with his son’s squeals of delight in the living room.
He’d made her a promise at the clinic. But it was more than that. His feelings for her were intensifying each day. We all have our history, he thought as he cleaned the dinner dishes, and heard Danny laugh again. This moment, all Rogan cared about was his son’s happiness. He couldn’t ignore the fact she was also the first woman since Darby he’d brought home. The first to stay overnight.
And Baby Makes Four Page 12