Bachelor Father

by Vicki Lewis Lewis Thompson

  “There.” She sat down at the table again, clear-eyed. “Shouldn’t you try the phone again?”

  “Yep.” He got up and went over to pick up the receiver. “It’s still out.”

  “Oh, well.” She’d adopted a breezy air. “I’m sure it’ll be connected soon, and then we can get out of your hair.” She started on her sandwich.

  “I’m sure you’ll be glad to get back to New York. You must be good at your job if Naomi Rutledge wants you to take over the whole magazine.” Talking about her work felt safe—it reminded him of the distance between their very different worlds.

  She swallowed a bite of tuna. “She blew me away with that news. Sure, we get along well, and she’s been super through this pregnancy, but I never in the world imagined she wanted me to be her replacement.”

  “Sounds like a lot of responsibility.” He’d hate being tied down like that.

  “It is.” She took another sip of her beer. “And I’m sort of scared, but the time I spent in Yellowstone last year has given me more confidence in myself.” She glanced at him. “Up until I fell into the river, at any rate. That was pretty inept. But before that I’d been alone for almost two days and I really had time to think and evaluate my strengths and weaknesses honestly. I decided I was more capable than I gave myself credit for.”

  He shoved away his empty sandwich plate. “Time alone can be a good thing.”

  “I would expect you to think so. I don’t hunger for that kind of isolation all the time, but I learned a lot during that trip.”

  Maybe that had been why she’d made love to him so eagerly, he thought. Feeling self-sufficient in the wilderness could give someone a real high. Add to that the adrenaline rush of nearly dying, and it was no wonder she’d wanted the earthy physical release sex could bring. It probably had nothing to do with him. Any reasonably decent guy would have served the purpose.

  “I didn’t know you were raised on a boys’ ranch,” she said.

  He grew uneasy. “That’s something you probably shouldn’t tell Amanda. She could trace me in no time if she knew to start at Lost Springs.”

  She finished her sandwich and picked up her glass of beer. “You honestly don’t think you’ll ever want to see her? Not even when she’s an adult and wouldn’t require any caretaking?”

  He picked up their plates and carried them over to the sink. “Look, Katherine, I don’t know the first thing about being a father. I never knew my own. The Duncans, the people who ran Lost Springs when I was there, were wonderful to all of us, but it wasn’t the same as having your very own father and mother who had all your baby pictures and remembered when you said your first word and got your first tooth.” He rinsed the plates. “I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea how to treat a daughter, but you obviously do, so the best thing is for you to handle this alone.”

  “I guess you can’t be any plainer than that.”

  He dried his hands on a towel hanging by the sink and turned back to her. “I’m trying to be as honest as I can, both with myself and with you.”

  Her smile was tremulous. “Same here.”

  “Then I guess we understand each other.”

  “I understand.” She blinked, but there were no tears this time. Then she glanced down at the kettle where Amanda lay. “And I’ll figure out some way to make her understand, too.”

  It was a sucker punch, and he felt it down to his toes. Amanda lay cradled by the green bedspread, fast asleep. As a kid he’d raised dozens of baby animals whose mothers were killed by predators or on the highway. As a ranger he was still doing it. Yet in all that time of nursing young wildlife, he’d never seen any creature look more vulnerable and in need of care than this tiny baby. And he was turning his back on her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SITTING IN A COOL CABIN in damp clothes gave Katherine goose bumps now that she didn’t have Amanda to keep her warm. At least that’s what she told herself. It couldn’t be nerves, or the fact that without the baby in her arms, she began wondering what it would be like to hold Zeke again.

  She looked for a thermostat on the wall and found none. She guessed that the fireplace provided the cabin’s only heat, and she couldn’t ask Zeke to build a fire when they could be leaving at any moment.

  Picking up her beer glass, she left the table and moved around the cabin. She pretended to be interested in what she found, when her true motivation was to get rid of her jittery chilled feeling. She touched the log walls. “Did you peel the bark off yourself, or did you have some help?” She was pretty sure of the answer, but it seemed like a safe topic and she didn’t like the sound of silence. She became far too aware of his body when they both stopped talking.

  “I did it myself.”

  Of course he had. The original Lone Ranger. He might as well wear a black mask over his eyes and ride a horse named Silver. But even the Lone Ranger had Tonto. “So none of your friends from Lost Springs came over to help?”

  “I invited them after I was finished.”

  “Oh.” She gazed at the fireplace with its thick plank serving as a mantel. Something was carved into the front edge. She looked closer and saw that it was a tiny pine tree, all by itself. So Zeke had a brand, of sorts. The more she studied it, the more the carving irritated her. What right did he have to declare himself an island, especially when fate had given him a child?

  And why was she being so noble about the whole thing and quietly accepting his decision to reject fatherhood completely? Naomi might think that was the best course of action, but Katherine would be the one trying to explain to Amanda that her father wanted nothing to do with her because he was a lone wolf with no ties and intended to keep it that way.

  She turned toward the kitchen area, where he was straightening things up after their lunch. “I’ve changed my mind about something.”

  “Oh?” He hung the towel up and walked over to the table, but instead of sitting down, he placed both hands on the chair back, as if he needed to grip something while he heard what she had to say.

  And he probably did, she thought. She had a tight hold on the beer glass herself. “I told you at the lodge that I didn’t come here to get any money from you, and that’s what I’d decided because I pretty much blamed myself for this pregnancy.” She squared her shoulders. “But I’m not to blame. I took precautions. They just didn’t work. So it’s silly of me to shoulder all the financial responsibility. And besides that, if you send something every month, that will at least let Amanda know you care about her in some fashion.”

  He frowned. “I’ll send it, but I wouldn’t do it so she’d know I was thinking of her. In fact, I’d rather she didn’t know where the money came from.”

  “Sorry.” Katherine warmed to the fight. “You’re overruled. And I’ll tell you why. You just said yourself that not having your mother and father around when you were growing up left you unable to relate to a child. I don’t want Amanda to have that problem. I want her to know that she has a father, and although he’s emotionally unable to connect with her, he at least gives of himself in the form of a check every month.”

  He looked like a cornered animal as his dark eyes blazed. “And I suppose you’d encourage her to write to me, and eventually you’d suggest that she come here for a visit.”

  “Absolutely not! Do you think I’d take a chance with her fragile young ego? I wouldn’t want her to get here and be brutally rejected.”

  “I wouldn’t—”

  “Wouldn’t you? Every single time I’ve tried to bring the two of you together, you’ve acted as if she has some contagious disease.”

  “But she’s a baby!” he bellowed. “I’ve never been around babies! I don’t know anything about them. I might accidentally hurt her. Or worse!”

  Amanda began to cry.

  Katherine glared at him and crossed the room to pick up the baby
. “You certainly know how to scare her to death.”

  “I didn’t mean to be so loud, okay?” He stalked over to the telephone. “This just proves my point. The less she knows about me, the better. I’ll only create problems for her.” He picked up the receiver and put it to his ear. “Damn it to hell.” He started to slam the receiver into its cradle but caught himself and replaced it carefully.

  Katherine swayed gently and kissed Amanda’s cheek until her crying gradually subsided. “There, there, Mandy. It’s all right.” She glanced over at Zeke, who reminded her of a large caged animal as he paced back and forth in front of the window. Water still poured from the eaves. “We could be stuck here quite a while, couldn’t we?” Her belligerent mood hadn’t eased any.

  “No.” His pacing ceased. “If you’ll get her ready to travel, we’ll head out.”

  “Head out? What, you have a couple of mules stashed in a barn out back?” She figured mules would suit his stubborn personality better than horses.

  “No.” He stared out at the rain. “We’ll just drive on the rim.”

  “And ruin it.”

  “I don’t give a damn if we do.”

  Katherine didn’t much give a damn about his precious tire rim, either. But she didn’t want to get stuck out there. “Is that a safe idea?”

  He rounded on her. “Yes.” His voice was carefully controlled, his gaze intense. “I may be emotionally unable to connect with that kid, as you said, but I would give my life to keep her from harm.”

  She caught her breath at the power in that statement. She had no doubt that he meant it, either. He might be a difficult man to get close to, but without hesitating, he’d put his life on the line for those smaller and weaker than he. She’d always suspected that if she’d missed the branch he’d held out for her that day, he would have dived into the water after her. Either he would have saved her or they both would have drowned, but he wouldn’t have stood there watching her die.

  And she still owed him for that. The anger drained out of her. “Zeke, I probably came on too strong about the money thing.”

  “I’ve always said I’d be willing to pay. I just don’t want you building that into something more.”

  “Okay. I won’t make it into something more.”

  “How soon can you be ready to leave?”

  “I should probably feed her first, just in case it takes longer than we think it might.”

  “Fine. Let me know when you’re ready to go.” He opened the front door, letting in the scent of damp earth, and went outside on the porch as if he couldn’t bear to be closed in the same little space with her for a minute longer.

  * * *

  ZEKE LONGED FOR A HORIZON to look at, but the forest was shrouded in gray and he couldn’t see much beyond the clearing. He took a deep breath, drawing in the dank, loamy air. The chill felt good on his face. He didn’t like the picture Katherine was painting of him, as if he were some weird recluse who couldn’t relate to anyone.

  It wasn’t like that. He had friends. He interacted just fine with tourists at the park. But he had grave misgivings about ever being somebody’s husband, and he sure as hell wasn’t equipped to be somebody’s father, especially if that person happened to be a tiny little girl.

  He’d never been tiny. At three he’d looked six. He could still hear his mother telling him that he was too big, that he ate too much, that he was too loud. Apparently he’d been missing whatever a kid needed to make him lovable, or she wouldn’t have dumped him off at the ranch. At least there in the midst of a gang of boys, his size had been a plus. He could watch over the smaller kids.

  Women still made him feel awkward, though, like a bull in a china shop—except for the night he’d spent with Katherine. On his own turf, with the immensity of the woods surrounding them, he’d felt in tune with a woman for the first time in his life, and he’d allowed himself to hope that maybe he wouldn’t live his life alone. Of course he’d been wrong.

  And now this—having a daughter thrust at him with no mental preparation, and then being expected to say and do the right thing on selected holidays and summer vacations, all by himself with no woman to guide him... He couldn’t deal with that.

  Then there was the other problem. He was still attracted to Katherine. He could feel that attraction growing like a seedling reaching for the sun. She probably thought he’d escaped to the front porch because he was angry with her. In fact he was angry with himself for shouting and waking the baby, but he’d left the room because he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he stayed while she unbuttoned her blouse again to feed Amanda.

  He’d bought a couple of Adirondack chairs for the porch this summer, and he sat down in one while he waited for Katherine to finish getting the baby ready. For the first time he wondered why he’d bought two chairs. He’d ordered them from a catalog, and the order for two had been automatic in his mind. It just looked right to him, and yet he’d never brought a woman to the cabin until now, and when the guys from Lost Springs came out for the annual fishing trip, two chairs wouldn’t be enough.

  He shook his head and muttered a swearword under his breath. Katherine really had him going, making him question every damn thing about his life, including how many chairs he’d bought for the front porch. The sooner he got her and the baby back to the lodge, the better. Maybe he’d leave his truck there and rent a Jeep so he could head for some remote place and camp for a couple of days. Yeah, that’s what he’d do. Some time alone would clear away the cobwebs.

  The front door opened and Katherine came out carrying Amanda in the sling with the diaper bag over one arm. “We’re ready.”

  He stood immediately. “Let me get the slicker.” He managed to move past her without touching her and went inside to discover the cabin still held the scent of her perfume. He’d definitely have to go camping and let the place air out. Otherwise this reminder of her would probably keep him awake and fully aroused all night.

  After grabbing the slicker, he went back out. “Give me the diaper bag and you can have the slicker,” he said.

  “What about you?”

  A cold shower was exactly what he needed, he thought. “I’ll just move fast.” He handed her the raincoat and took the diaper bag. “Let’s go.”

  She held the slicker over her head and started down the porch steps. He followed close behind. On the bottom step her foot slipped out from under her on the wet wood and she started to go down.

  His brain froze with fear, but his body reacted, grabbing at her arm and hauling her back against him, baby and all. She lost her grip on the slicker and it fell to the mud below. The weight threw him slightly off balance and he staggered but managed to stay upright as rain pelted down on them.

  Panting, she turned to him, her eyes wide. “I almost—”

  He couldn’t seem to let go of her. Her mouth was very close, pale and pink and wet with rain. Their bodies fit so that Amanda was pretty well shielded from the downpour, but they were still getting drenched. He barely felt it. “But you didn’t fall.”

  “No. You saved me. Us.”

  He watched awareness replace panic in her eyes. Her glance drifted to his mouth, then rose again to his eyes. That subtle signal was all he needed. He lowered his head.

  She made a soft sound as his lips found hers. He didn’t know if she meant it as a welcome or a protest, but he didn’t care. Just once. Then he would get her into that truck and back where she belonged, far away from him.

  He remembered the shape of her mouth. And he remembered the sweetness, remembered the slight resistance followed by a yielding that made his blood pound in his veins. For one wild moment he considered taking her back inside. Then he forced himself to leave the temptation of her mouth. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. They were glazed with desire, probably just like his. If he asked her to stay, she might do it. And the
n what?

  “I thought you hated me,” she whispered.

  “I wish I could.”

  “Zeke...”

  “We’d better go.”

  She nodded.

  After releasing her, he leaned down and picked up the muddy slicker. She started toward the truck, her head down, her arm protecting Amanda as best she could. He tossed the slicker on the porch and followed her.

  * * *

  KATHERINE FOUGHT A NEW wave of desire when Zeke lifted her and Amanda into the truck. She loved the strength that allowed him to lift her to the seat in one smooth motion. That strength had saved her life once, and just now his strong grip had kept her from falling and quite possibly hurting Amanda when she went down.

  And yet she’d felt the power in those big hands become the gentle caress of a lover. She’d never been touched with such tenderness as she had the night she’d spent in his tent. She doubted she’d ever be touched that way again, and she yearned for it so much that she was trembling. His mouth on hers had awakened her body instantly. She felt pliable, moistened...ready.

  He’d had to slam the door again but Amanda seemed used to the noise and didn’t start to cry. Katherine was thankful she had a baby to care for right now, a task to distract her from Zeke. Removing Amanda’s wet terry outfit and replacing it with a dry one from the diaper bag kept her occupied as Zeke hurried around the truck and climbed in beside her.

  “I have to slam this door, too,” he said.

  “Go ahead. She seems to be adapting.” Katherine kept her attention focused on Amanda, who had picked this moment to become squirmy and vocal. While Katherine peeled the damp material away from her chubby body, she waved her hands and legs and made little crowing noises. When Zeke slammed the door, she jerked in response but didn’t cry.

  Zeke started the engine.

  “Don’t leave yet.” Katherine spoke above the drumming of the rain on the metal roof of the cab. “I don’t have her in the carrier.”