A Family of Her Own

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A Family of Her Own Page 17

by Brenda Novak


  Booker had never dreamed a seven-month fetus was so developed. He’d never even thought about it. Becoming a parent hadn’t been high on his agenda. But that seemed to be changing. He remembered putting his hands on Katie’s belly and enjoying the contact, feeling almost as if he was part of a circle that included her and her baby. Which was crazy, of course. He wasn’t part of anything.

  “To hell with it.” Scowling, he snapped the book shut. He was just getting up to go to his own room when the telephone rang. A glance at his watch told him it was nearly two o’clock. Who would be calling at this time of night?

  He reached the phone on the third ring. “Hello?”

  “I saw Delbert in town earlier.”

  The caller had a raspy, muffled voice, so muffled it was hardly discernible.

  “What?” Booker said.

  “You might not want to let your little retard ramble around on his own anymore, Booker. Poor thing might get hurt again.”

  “Who the hell is this?”

  A raucous laugh. “Wouldn’t you love to know.”

  “Jon, if this is you, you’re an even bigger son of a bitch than I thought.”

  “Careful, Booker. You might be in for a surprise.”

  “Meet me now, at the park in town,” Booker said. “We’ll see who’s going to get a surprise.

  Another laugh. “You aimin’ to land yourself back in jail?”

  “I’m aiming to take your head off if you so much as look at Delbert the wrong way.”

  “Tsk, tsk. Such temper. Those anger management classes might do you some good. They’ve done wonders for me. Can’t you tell?” More laughter echoed in Booker’s ears, then the line went dead.

  Booker stared at the phone, breathing hard. It was Jon Small. It had to be. Dragging out the phone book, he looked up Jon’s number and dialed. A sleepy female voice answered.

  “Is Jon there?”

  “Who is this?”

  “Booker Robinson.”

  “What are you doing calling here so late, Booker? If you don’t leave my husband alone, we’re going to get a restraining order.”

  “Just let me talk to Jon.”

  A long pause. “He’s not home.”

  “Where is he?”

  “How should I know? He doesn’t exactly check in.”

  Booker cursed under his breath. “When you talk to him, tell him I’m looking for him,” he said and hung up.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  KATIE GAZED AT THE NEW Web site she’d created. “Booker T’s Auto Repair” was emblazoned across the top in large black letters. Below that she’d positioned a picture of Booker’s shop next to a map showing its location. A menu with bold red letters, including buttons for “Services,” “About Booker,” and “Testimonials” lined the left side and leaped into a different font when her mouse rolled over them. To finish off the page, she’d added some graphics that included an animation with checkered flags.

  The site looked good, but Katie wasn’t convinced Booker would like it. She wasn’t planning to show it to him, anyway. She wasn’t even sure why she’d created it. Booker didn’t have much need for a Web presence. His business came from locals and his shop was clearly visible, right on Main Street. This site was just something she worked on during long, lonely nights like this one, when she couldn’t sleep. Besides, if Booker ever changed the name of his business, she didn’t know if he’d use his middle initial. But she liked the sound of “Booker T’s” and thought it was about time he made the shop “officially” his own.

  Pressing a hand to her aching back, Katie stood and stretched. She needed to call her doctor in the morning. The pains she was experiencing seemed to be getting more acute. She’d been doing so well the past couple of months she doubted they were anything serious, but there were moments when she worried….

  Sleep would help. If only she could relax. If only she could quit thinking about the look on Booker’s face when she’d seen him earlier. She could’ve sworn he hated her. Which meant Rebecca had to be wrong. Booker didn’t love any woman. He guarded his heart too fiercely.

  But he’d let his defenses down once….

  Lying on the bed to ease the tension in her back, Katie stared up at the ceiling and remembered the night they’d first made love. They’d been at the two-bedroom rental house she shared with her best friend Wanda, making chocolate-covered pretzels to fill Christmas tins. Wanda was at work and, just prior to sunset, a snowstorm darkened the sky. Booker built a fire while she melted chocolate—which never made it to the pretzels. When she called him to begin dipping, Booker started playing around, lifting her shirt and dropping warm chocolate on her stomach, then licking it off. What had begun as a game quickly flared into something more when he snapped open her bra, dropped chocolate on her nipple and took the chocolate and her nipple in his mouth.

  Katie felt her breasts tingle just thinking about it. Never had she experienced a more erotic evening. Booker had aroused her so completely she’d practically begged him to take it further. And he had. But he was so gentle and careful, despite the urgency they were both feeling, that she knew right then—when he covered her body with his—that she was falling in love with him. The man who went to prison for grand theft auto. The man who made the police chief grimace and the mayor complain. The town’s black sheep…

  And that was when she’d panicked.

  As the wind picked up outside, whistling eerily beneath the eaves, Katie’s mind shifted to the night Booker had appeared at her house just before she left with Andy. He’d stood outside in the dim glow of the porch light looking darkly handsome, even dangerous, with his stubbled chin and enigmatic eyes. And he’d asked her to marry him. She’d turned him down, but she hadn’t been able to stop shaking for hours afterward.

  Now, putting herself in his shoes, she winced. It had been difficult enough for her; she could only imagine what he’d gone through, standing there on her porch, laying his heart bare. She’d hurt him, and he hated her for it, and she could understand why.

  Close your eyes. Go to sleep. Forget him.

  The wind was getting stronger, making noises that sounded like someone outside the cabin. Katie knew it was probably nothing, but she couldn’t help feeling vulnerable when she remembered what had happened to poor Mrs. Willoughby in her trailer.

  She glanced at the phone, wishing Mike was home tonight. The ranch house was only an acre or so away. She would’ve felt better knowing he was close—especially when she heard very distinct footsteps on her porch.

  She tensed, sending another pain shooting through her abdomen, and grabbed the phone. But before she could call anyone, there was a solid knock at the door.

  “Katie? It’s me, Andy.”

  Andy! He’d been in town for a month, and she hadn’t heard a word from him. But she’d known he’d show up eventually.

  Hanging up, she went to the window and peeked out to see him hunched against the cold, wearing a pair of black pants and a white shirt with no jacket. “What are you doing here, Andy?” she called, moving to the door.

  “I need to talk to you, Katie!”

  “About what?”

  “Come on. You’re carrying my baby. Surely that means something to you. I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

  With a sigh, she opened the door. She didn’t want him to wake the cowboys on either side of her, although she doubted anyone could hear him above the wind, which was getting louder by the minute.

  “It’s about to storm, Andy, and it’s very late. Why are you here?”

  “I want the money you owe me.” He slid past her, rubbing his arms and looking as though he was long overdue for a haircut. Even though she’d asked him not to, he’d had his nose pierced while she was living with him in San Francisco. The garish streak of blond in his hair was new.

  “What money?” she said.

  “Did you think you could sell off our stuff and run out on me without giving me anything?”

  Dumbfounded, Katie blinked at him. H
ow could he feel entitled to a dime of that money after everything she’d done to support him? “I bought all that stuff in the first place,” she said.

  “I worked—” he staggered a bit “—occasionally.”

  He hadn’t even glanced at her belly. He didn’t care about the baby. He didn’t care about her. He hadn’t seen her for two months, yet all he could talk about was money.

  Large drops of rain began to pelt the ground. Andy was already inside the cabin, so she closed the door. “When did you work? You partied. And you spent almost everything I earned on dope and alcohol!”

  Scowling, he gazed around the room. “Come on, Katie. I need a fix. You know how it is. Just give me fifty bucks and we’ll call it even.”

  “I don’t have fifty bucks,” she said. “And even if I did, I couldn’t give it to you. How do you think I’m going to support this baby?”

  “Looks like you’re doing fine to me. From what I hear, you’ve got Sugar Daddy Mike taking care of you. That son of a bitch is richer than Midas.”

  “Who told you Mike’s taking care of me?” she cried.

  “Some woman named Mary pulled me aside at the Honky Tonk tonight. She’s not very happy with you, by the way. She doesn’t like that you’ve set your sights on her man.”

  “I haven’t—” Katie caught herself before the denial could even pass her lips, and raised her hands in a helpless gesture. “You know what, Andy? I’ve got enough problems without you and Mary. I want you to leave.”

  “Then give me fifty bucks. Or a couple of twenties, at least. Something to get me by.”

  Katie covered her face and tried to take deep breaths. Her backache seemed to be getting worse. It was difficult to remain standing, but she didn’t want Andy to know she wasn’t feeling well, didn’t want him to have any more advantage over her. “I’m broke, Andy. I don’t have the money to give you. Now get out of here.”

  “That’s a lie!” he shouted. “Look at you. Look at all this computer stuff. Computers aren’t cheap.”

  Panic chilled Katie’s blood as Andy singled out her computer. Her future rested on that machine. Quickly inserting herself between him and the desk, she pointed at the door. “Go, before I call the cops.”

  He shoved her aside. “I’m going, but that’s going with me.”

  “No!” A pain stabbed through Katie’s abdomen as she moved, but she wasn’t about to let him take the one thing she depended on. She was just starting to recover from the past two years, just starting to glimpse the life she could build with her new job….

  “Get out of my way!” he snapped, yanking the cord from the wall.

  She grabbed him by the shirt. “I won’t let you do this!”

  He easily shook her off. “This ought to be worth fifty bucks.”

  When he headed out with her CPU, she hurried after him. But he kicked her desk chair aside, knocking it over and tripping her at the same time.

  Katie twisted to protect the baby as she fell, but she went down hard. She felt her water break, soaking her pants and puddling on the floor as yet another pain gripped her stomach. This one was so strong she didn’t realize Andy was gone—until the pain eased and she became conscious of a cold rain blowing in from the open doorway.

  Curling up, she fought sudden terror, along with a new stab of pain.

  She waited for the pain to subside, but it didn’t, and she knew she had to move. If she didn’t do something, she was going to lose the baby. She was only thirty-two weeks, and two hours away from a neonatal unit.

  Thunder cracked in the distance as she dragged herself over to the bed and tugged the phone to the floor. A moment later, a dial tone hummed in her ear, but she was panting for breath and wasn’t sure who to call. There wasn’t any ambulance service in Dundee. Mike, Rebecca and Josh were gone. She didn’t know the phone numbers for any of the cowboys staying in the other cabins. She didn’t even know them by more than first names. And her family was absolutely last on her list.

  She’d call the police, she decided. They’d send a squad car. But she felt too vulnerable to have Orton arrive at her door. And deep down, there was only one person she wanted: Booker.

  THE PHONE RANG, startling Booker. He jumped out of bed, thinking it might be Jon. He was eager to talk to him whether it was the middle of the night or not. But when he picked up, no one spoke.

  “Who is it?” he said, his voice an impatient bark.

  There was no reply. He almost hung up. But then he heard a weak, reedy voice call his name and apprehension rolled down his spine. It was Katie. Something was wrong.

  “Booker?”

  “What is it?” he said, his heart thumping.

  “I need…help.”

  He was pretty sure she was crying. “Where are you?”

  “My cabin.”

  “Where’s Mike? He’s much closer.”

  “Gone.”

  “Are you hurt? Is it the baby?”

  “Will you come?” she gasped.

  He was pulling on his jeans as they spoke. “I’m on my way.”

  BOOKER’S HEART jackhammered against his chest as he tore through Dundee going over seventy. Without another soul around, there wasn’t much chance of causing an accident. And he didn’t give a damn if all three members of Dundee’s police force tried to pull him over en masse. They could chase him if they wanted to. He wasn’t stopping until he reached Katie.

  The weather forced him to slow down when he started into the mountains on the other side of town. But he didn’t curse the wind or the rain; he knew he probably had the storm to thank for the fact that he heard no sirens behind him and would therefore have less trouble doing whatever needed to be done.

  He arrived at High Hill Ranch in record time and came to a sudden halt in front of Katie’s cabin. The driveway had ended five hundred yards earlier, but he didn’t care about that, either.

  Her door stood open. The sight of it made his throat constrict. What’d happened? Was she hurt? How badly?

  Hopping out, he left his truck idling and ran inside. He didn’t see her at first, but there was an overturned chair on the floor. When he called her, she moaned, and he found her lying on the other side of the bed, rolled up in some blankets she’d managed to pull down. Her eyes were closed, and she was shivering violently.

  “Katie?” Kneeling beside her, he smoothed the hair off her forehead. “It’s Booker.”

  Her eyelashes lifted, and he read pain in her eyes. “The baby,” she said. “The baby’s coming.”

  Booker took a deep breath and jammed a hand through his hair. He’d been afraid of this. He had to get her to a doctor.

  “Let’s go.” Wrapping her in the blanket, he gathered her in his arms as gently as possible and carried her out to his truck.

  The rain ran down his neck and beneath his jacket as he deposited her in the passenger seat. Chilled by the blustering wind and his fear of what was to come, he hurried to the other side and climbed in. “You’ll be fine,” he told her, trying to turn the truck around without jolting her too badly.

  “Are we going to Boise?” she asked.

  “No. Hatcher’s only fifteen minutes from here.” He couldn’t risk taking her any farther. What if the baby came right away?

  “We have to go—” she grabbed her middle but struggled to speak “—to Boise. It’s too soon for the baby. Getting to the hospital is probably—” she paused, gasped “—the baby’s…only chance.”

  Booker scowled and shook his head. “No way. It’s too far. Anything could happen in two hours. You need a doctor now.”

  “You don’t…gasp…even trust Hatcher.”

  “He’s better equipped to handle this than I am. Somehow that goes quite far toward inspiring my trust.”

  “But I’ve finally—” she clenched her jaw and groaned, her face so pale it seemed to shine in the semidarkness, which scared the hell out of him “—made a decision.”

  “What decision?” He tried to distract her from her pain while he focu
sed on driving so they didn’t wind up in a ditch.

  “I’m keeping my baby…if she lives….”

  This gained his full attention. “I didn’t know keeping the baby was ever in question.”

  “It’s not…anymore,” she said. “Will you…take me to Boise?”

  “Katie, with the mountains and the storm, I won’t be able to use my radio if we get into trouble. And there’s no cell coverage out here. I don’t even own a cell phone.”

  “Please, Booker.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “If you’ve ever—” she drew a ragged breath “—felt anything for me at all…do me this one favor.”

  Too many things could go wrong. What if the baby’s lungs weren’t developed enough and it couldn’t breathe on its own? He suspected Katie was bleeding already. What if she lost too much blood? “You’re asking me to risk your life for the baby. I can’t do that.”

  “It should be my—Oh God!” she cried. “My decision, right?”

  Watching her suffer made him angry—angry at the pain, angry at Andy for getting her pregnant in the first place, and angry at himself for being so helpless. “Damn it, Katie! Do you really want to take a chance like that?”

  She didn’t react to the edge in his voice. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the door. When the pain seemed to subside, she looked at him again. “This baby’s part of me, Booker,” she said fiercely. “It’s mine…to protect.”

  “You have to be alive for that,” he spat.

  “I’ll be fine. I can’t let my baby down. She’s all I have.”

  What was he going to do? This was crazy, foolish. And yet he couldn’t ignore the determination in her voice and the desperation in her eyes.

  The pictures from that baby book flashed through his mind.

  Katie’s baby was helpless—a true innocent, like Delbert. Booker understood. The same feeling had come over him when he’d jumped into that fight with the Smalls.

 

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