“She say why?”
“Her mother fancies herself a Liz Taylor. Been married seven or eight times. Each time worse than the last. Our Rose said she doesn’t ever plan on ending up like that.”
“Can’t say as I blame her.” Colby’s chest tightened while wincing at the sun shining off the lake. Our Rose.
Months ago, back before their disastrous airport goodbye, he’d thought of her as his. He’d fantasized about what it might be like for the two of them to end up together. But there was a damned big difference between the vulnerable beauty she’d been that night on the mountain and the all-business ice queen she’d been with him most of the time since.
As late as this morning, he’d held out hope of the two of them reaching a mutually beneficial agreement where their son was concerned. In other words, she’d agree to marry him on a friendly basis for now, and see where their friendship might lead.
He’d been prepared to give her one hundred percent of everything he held dear, including his heart, but she’d turned him down cold. As far as he was concerned, they’d now reached the point where the only person who could fix their dilemma was a good attorney. One who dealt with child custody situations. Because Colby no longer wanted to share their son.
He opened the plane’s door. “Been nice talking to you, Dot.”
“You heard me, didn’t you? She’s hurt. I got the sense it might even go deeper than what she’s seen with her mom. You’ve got to take a different approach with her type. You know, use some finesse.”
“Finesse, huh?” Colby shot his old friend a broad smile. “Why don’t you try that on your man, then tell me how it works?”
AFTER WATCHING COLBY take off in his snazzy new ride, Dot picked up the control room phone and dialed a familiar number.
“Kodiak Lodge,” Nugget answered.
“It’s me.”
“You get the job done?”
“Tried.”
“Not good enough.”
“Nag, nag, nag.”
“Don’t sass me. I’m practically Colby’s daddy, and I’ll not have any grandson of mine being raised in some backwards town like Chicago. Probably there’s not a decent steak in the entire state of Ill-noise, and who knows where a granddad can take his grandson to teach him how to properly snag a trout.”
“Want me to launch Phase Two?”
Nugget sighed. “Let’s give ’em one more night on their own, but if she hasn’t accepted his proposal by then, it’s time to pull out the big guns.”
Chapter Eight
COLBY RUBBED HIS eyes to make sure that what awaited him at the end of the dock wasn’t a mirage. Granted, with the tricky head wind, the late morning return trip to Kodiak Lake had taken longer than usual, but he didn’t feel tired enough to have conjured an unbelievable sight like this.
Seated pretty as you please atop the boulder that had forget-me-nots growing out of it, wearing jeans and a pale blue top, was Rose. Her dark hair glinted in the late-afternoon sun.
“Hi!” she called with a wave and smile that erased his carefully made plans to tell her that if she didn’t marry him, he was calling an attorney.
He couldn’t do that to her.
He wasn’t that guy. Seeing her now, he knew she wasn’t a hardball kind of girl. Just like Dot had told him, Rose was a closet softie. Maybe it was time he treated her like one.
Especially since she wouldn’t have come all this way unless she had a very good reason—like telling him she had finally agreed that marrying him was not only the right thing for their son, but her.
Filled with a sudden calm at the notion that his life was about to take a welcome turn for the better, Colby took a deep breath.
Time to meet his bride.
Technically they knew each other on an intimate level, but something about the sparkle in her eyes told him they were on the verge of meeting again as if for the first time.
“Hi, yourself.” He shut and locked the plane door before slinging his flight bag over his right shoulder. Hands in his jeans pockets, he headed for the end of the dock. “Nice day, huh?”
“Gorgeous.”
“What’d you do today?”
“Bit of this, bit of that.” She stood, then met him halfway. She held her hands behind her back.
“What’ve you got?” he asked, touched that she thought enough of him to have gotten him an apology gift. Whether she was hiding a beer or a candy bar, he’d love it. Not for the gift itself, but because she’d finally accepted the inevitable.
They were meant to be a family.
“Oh, not much.” She still wielded that pretty grin.
God, she looked beautiful carrying his child. Complexion radiant, eyes bright. At that moment, he knew he’d never seen a more gorgeous woman.
The two of them, crazy as it seemed, were right.
“Out with it,” he said. “What’d you get me?”
“Get you?” Her grin faded.
“Yeah, you know. Isn’t that a gift you’re hiding behind your back?”
“I suppose you might say that.”
“Oh, I get it. You want me to guess? Draw out the suspense along with the fun.” He liked this new playful side to her personality. It reminded him of the woman he’d met all those months ago in his dearly departed Beaver.
“Well…”
“Let’s see. Is it bigger than a bread basket?”
“Colby, I—”
“Duh. Since it fits behind your back, I’m guessing that’s a no. Sorry. Stupid question. Okay, give me a sec to regroup.”
“Colby—”
“No, really. I’ll get it this time. You brought me a—”
“Colby, would you please listen? You and me—we’re strangers. What I brought is a gift. A gift I had my lawyer draw up that guarantees your financial and emotional freedom from any future claim I might make on you in your capacity as my child’s biological father.”
As her words—her poison—sank in, Colby’s blood ran cold. At first, his heart thundered, but then it slowed to a dull, furious thud loud enough for him to hear. How could he have been such a fool? She’d played him like a fiddle. Sure, in a moment of anger he’d thought about suing for custody. But there was a huge difference between thinking about it and actually following through.
He swiped his fingers through his hair.
“Here…” She held out a crisp legal-sized envelope bearing his name and address. “At first, my attorney suggested I mail these prior to my arrival—to keep everything tidy. But I wanted to present them face to face. You know, make the whole thing more personal.”
Hot tears pricked Colby’s eyes. What was wrong with him to have not seen this coming? All his life, he’d clung to the Pollyanna image of being the perfect dad alongside his perfect wife. They’d love each other, deeply and forever. The three of them—hell, maybe even the four or five of them—would be a force to be reckoned with. Their loving bond, their family bond, could never be broken. But just as he’d seen how futile that dream was with Margot, he was seeing it again with Rose. Knowing she already carried his son worsened the pain.
He looked at her, at the silent tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Tell me,” he said, swallowing with difficulty. “How the hell can you stand there so…unmoved, when I see this is hurting you as much as it is me?”
She wiped her cheeks. “Yes,” she admitted, “hurting you is hurting me, but not for the reasons you think.”
“Oh, reasons like you’re condemning our son to life without a father before he’s even come out of the womb? What other reasons could there be?”
ROSE TURNED AWAY—not because her decision to raise her son alone was wrong or somehow invalid, but because she couldn’t stand seeing the hurt her choice had inflicted on this obviously strong, loving man.
What had she done?
Her lawyer had been right. She never should have come here—not if she expected to start her journey into motherhood with a clean conscience.
; The truth of the matter was that she’d read all the books. She knew how important having a father was to a boy—but she couldn’t let Colby do it. Fears that he’d pull some stunt like baby bungee jumping weren’t fueling her determination to cut all ties. Truthfully, she just couldn’t bring herself to make the same mistakes as her mother, over and over again.
Marriage wasn’t for her. Her disaster with Rick had been enough. She couldn’t sign her life over to a man—not even a man who seemed as wonderful as Colby.
Deep inside her lurked the certain knowledge that, as far as she was concerned, if Colby turned out to be as rotten a father as her own, her son would be much better off never knowing him. She was saving her son years of costly therapy and pain.
“Please sign these,” she said, clearing her voice. “It’ll make things much easier for everyone.”
He took the envelope. Stared at it. A muscle ticked in his jaw as his fingers slowly tightened around it.
“Colby? Did you hear me?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said with a harsh laugh. “Loud and clear.” He stepped closer and closer until she smelled his trademark scent of airplane and leather and sweat. He stepped nearer still until she felt his radiated heat. And then he was there, in her personal space, daring her to flinch.
“Now, it’s time for you to hear this.” Never looking away from her, he ripped the envelope containing her legal documents in half, then flung both pieces into the lake.
COLBY FIGURED THAT after stewing for a good hour he’d feel better about recent developments. But as he sat on the rough-hewn log bench tucked into the curve of Kodiak Lodge’s lobby stairs, he still felt nothing but confusion and contempt for the mother of his son. And that hurt. Granted, they hardly knew each other, but he’d been prepared to offer the woman his very heart on a silver platter. And oh, she’d taken it, all right. Taken it off the platter to shred it into a meat grinder.
And now what was he doing?
Sitting here like a damned fool, knowing he had to yet again swallow his pride for the sake of his child.
After showing her in unambiguous terms what he wanted her to do with those legal papers, he’d driven her back to the lodge, where she said she planned to take a nap. He’d done the same himself. When he woke, he felt that same old familiar lead chunk where his heart used to live.
The bottom line was, he wanted his son—not just for a few weekends out of the year, but every morning. He wanted to smell his child’s tiny SpongeBob jammies sticky-sweet with syrup. To feel his chubby hands twining round his neck as he carried him in from the car after he’d fallen asleep. He wanted all the quiet times. The intimate moments part-time dads never got to see. Hell, he’d even been looking forward to sharing his son’s moments with Rose—the first time she breastfed him or bathed him in the kitchen sink.
They could have shared all those special times.
Why couldn’t she see that? How could she possibly think her way was best? For whom? Surely not for their son?
That was why he was now back at the lodge for a last-ditch effort. He had to talk some sense into the woman. He knew she was book smart. Now was the time to see if she was common-sense smart, too. Because that was all this situation needed. Good old-fashioned common sense.
He heard a commotion above him and stood.
At the top of the stairs, Rose—who looked twelve months’ pregnant—had bumped into a side table. In the process, she’d knocked over Nugget’s prized collection of Reader’s Digest condensed books and a few knickknacks he kept on hand because he said they made the place more homey for his guests.
Colby had just mounted the first step to help his son’s accident-prone mother, when a couple of the guys—and a gal—from Global walked in the front door.
“Hey, Colby,” Dot called out. Todd and Dan fanned alongside her. “Long time no see, huh?”
“How’d you guys get over here?” Colby asked.
“We, um…” Dot shrugged. “Had an unexpected cargo shipment late this afternoon. Cutty Milborn brought it in from Juneau. We hitched a ride back with him.”
“Okay, that explains how you got from Global down to Juneau, but what’re you doing here? His rig can’t land on this lake.”
“Damn, Colby, what’s with all the questions?” Dan said. “Can’t you just be glad to see us and leave it at that?”
“Sorry.” Head aching from his constant worry over how to keep his son, Colby forced a smile. “Guess I’m just itchin’ for a good fight.” To show Dan there were no hard feelings, he patted him on the back before the threesome tugged him along to the lodge’s bar.
What the hell? What would one beer hurt? If nothing else, it would buy him a little time to compose his thoughts before his latest talk with Rose…
ROSE HURT, AND not just because that solid brass moose had fallen on her toe.
The conversation with Colby couldn’t have gone worse. She’d had the whole speech worked out in her head for months. How most men would be thrilled to be relieved of the burden of an unplanned child. And how she’d be doing him a big favor by agreeing to sole custody—of course, granting him visitation rights if he wanted. The one thing she hadn’t counted on was the fact that Colby would be the best father any child could ever have.
He didn’t just want his son. He was fighting for his son.
And if she’d even said her next thought aloud, her friends would consider her mad. But lately, she was beginning to think she felt her son pulling toward Colby. Whenever she was around him, Baby Talbot became extra active. Kicking and rolling, arching as if reaching for his first hug.
Probably all of that could be attributed to gas, or the effects of too many fatty foods on her already thin nerves. But still, what if there was something to it?
She stacked the last of the books back on the table at the top of the stairs.
What if she was wrong about her son not needing a father? About unfairly lumping Colby into the same category as her dad? Her father had been a monster. Comparing the two men wasn’t a case of apples to oranges, but apples to a garbage truck. Even worse, what if—
“There you are,” Nugget hollered from the foot of the stairs. “I was just coming to get you.”
“What’s up?” Rose asked, smoothing her hair, which she’d secured in a tight chignon at the base of her neck.
“Oh, I’m just coming to wag a little fresh-baked pot roast under your always-hungry nose.”
“Mashed potatoes?” Rose’s stomach was already growling.
“Absolutely, along with plenty of gravy, a nice green salad, sugar-glazed baby carrots and, for dessert, hot apple pie. Granted, it’s a lot for lunch, but you are eating for two.”
“Amen… I should’ve been down here an hour ago.”
Nugget laughed. As Rose reached the bottom step, he held out his hand to lead her into the crowded dining room.
“Aren’t there any women in this town?” she asked, eyeing the all-male crowd of about twenty.
“Sure.” Nugget brought Rose to her usual table beside the bank of windows overlooking the glistening lake. “But they’re all home with their families.”
“Oh.”
“I hear you don’t go for that sort of thing.”
“Family? Are you kidding? My best friend back in Chicago has a huge family. I eat over there a lot. Her mom’s a great cook and has so many kids, she never notices an extra person sneaking up to the table.”
“Then you do plan on settling down with a good man someday? Maybe having more little ones?”
Rose narrowed her eyes. “If this is your way of asking if I’ve accepted Colby’s proposal—the answer’s no.”
“Gracious,” he said, eyes wide, hands on his barrel chest. “I wouldn’t dream of asking such a personal question. That sort of thing should be left up to Colby himself. And speaking of that dear boy…Look, here he comes. Hey, Colby! Over here!”
Rose skimmed the faces in the small male mob to see only one.
All Alaskan men seemed
to grow taller and more muscular than others, but her baby’s father was in a class all his own. Even with his dark hair ruffled and a shadow of growth on his cheeks, his green eyes mesmerized. His hopeful expression filled her with shame for the cavalier way she’d handed him those forms.
He’d deserved better. At the very least, a heck of a lot more tact.
“What a nice surprise.” Nugget patted Colby’s back.
That easy camaraderie sparked a curious bolt of envy in her. She didn’t realize how much she missed simple human closeness.
Christmas morning, waking after having made love, she’d found the air in the plane painfully cold, yet inside their cozy down nest, Colby’s naked skin had burned against hers. How well she remembered turning to him while he still slept, feeling free to touch him, outlining the silhouette of his shoulders and chest in the darkness, pressing close to drop kisses on his whiskered cheek, loving the sharp sensation of stubble against her lips.
Her leisurely exploration had awakened him, and he’d drawn her into his arms, growling like a lovable old bear as he’d playfully rolled on top of her. He’d supported just enough of his weight so she didn’t feel crushed, yet he’d rested on her in a way that let her know he was all man. He’d sheltered her, yet at the same time—
“Care to call a truce?” Colby drew out the extra chair at her table.
“Sure.” She flashed him what felt like a wobbly grin.
“Can I bring you both the pot roast?” Nugget asked.
“Sounds good to me.” Colby’s concentrated stare raised heat in her cheeks “Rose?”
“P-please,” she said, somehow having forgotten just how appealing Colby could be when he tried. Or was he always this appealing, and she’d been so focused on keeping him out of her life that she’d forgotten how much fun life could be with him?
Stop. Thoughts like that had landed her mother in seven or so failed marriages.
Nugget made his way back to the kitchen, stopping to shake hands and slap backs at each table along the way.
Was that the team who’d rescued her and Colby, seated way in the back?
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