by Brenda Novak
Matthew, after her favorite actor, Matthew McConaughey? Brandon, a popular boy’s name she happened to like? Eric, after her mother’s brother who lived in San Diego?
A shadow fell across the floor and she glanced up to see Booker standing in the doorway. Her breath caught at the sight of him, looking rugged and unkempt but as darkly handsome as ever.
“There you are,” she said. “I thought maybe you’d gone home.”
“Not yet.” He sauntered into the room as if he owned it, and she couldn’t help smiling at the way he’d stood by her last night. He’d tried to act as though he was taking the birth in stride—that he wasn’t disturbed by such a natural process. But the appearance of the afterbirth had definitely rattled him. He’d turned white as a ghost, very unusual for Booker whose skin was always swarthy, and had to put his head between his knees to keep from passing out.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
“You.”
“Me? I generally don’t elicit that kind of response.”
She knew what kind of response he generally elicited, at least from women.
His eyes seemed to search her face for…something, Katie didn’t know what. Then his gaze dropped to the baby.
“Want to hold him?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. He’s pretty…small.”
“You were the first person to touch him, Booker. After last night, I think you can handle it. Sit down.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he pulled the recliner that was next to her bed a little closer and took the baby.
Katie smiled at the contrast between Booker and her tiny, fragile son. Her baby’s skin was pale, almost translucent; Booker’s was scarred and dark. Her baby’s hands were delicate, perfect; Booker’s were nicked and calloused. Her baby was just starting out; Booker had traveled the road of hard experience. And yet, despite Booker’s obvious discomfort, they seemed to fit together perfectly.
“I’m trying to figure out a name for him,” she said. “Any ideas?”
He was studying her son. “You don’t have a couple of names in mind?”
“No.”
“Because you were going to put him up for adoption?”
“I was thinking about it.”
“Why?”
Katie pulled her blankets higher, the euphoria she’d felt since her baby’s birth giving way to exhaustion. “Considering my situation, you have to ask? I don’t have anything to give him, Booker. A couple like Josh and Rebecca could provide so much more. And yet—” she sighed “—now I realize I could never let him go. So I guess the two of us are stuck with each other.”
She thought of her computer and wondered how she was going to get by in the future. Maybe she’d have to go back to work at Hair and Now until she could save up for another computer. Maybe she’d have to build her Web business on the side.
But if she returned to cutting hair, who would baby-sit while she worked?
“What’s wrong?” Booker asked.
Katie smoothed the worry lines from her forehead and attempted a careless shrug. “Nothing I want to talk about right now.”
The baby squirmed, and Booker looked alarmed.
“He’s okay,” she said, laughing.
With a scowl, Booker changed the subject, probably because he didn’t like being so transparent. He typically held his cards closer to his chest. “Tell me what happened with Andy last night,” he said.
“I already did.”
“You said he wanted money and you wouldn’t give him any. You didn’t tell me how that chair got overturned or why your door was open while you were lying on the floor clear across the room.”
“When I wouldn’t give him fifty bucks, he took my computer. I tried to stop him and fell over the chair. That’s all.”
“And then what?”
“He left.”
“With your computer?”
“Yes.”
His face hardened, reminding Katie of how he’d looked the night the Smalls had picked on Delbert. Somehow she fell under his protection now, and he wasn’t going to allow Andy to hurt her. “Did he know you were in labor?”
“He didn’t stop to find out. He needed a fix, and that was all he could think about.”
Booker cursed under his breath. “Someday he and I are going to have a serious discussion.”
“I just hope he leaves town soon. There’s a lot of drinking and foot-stomping that goes on in Dundee, but we don’t have a huge social scene. Most people work hard, go to bed early and get up early. Surely he’ll get bored and head back to San Francisco.”
In one smooth movement, Booker stood and settled the baby in her lap. “Maybe I’ll suggest he do that.”
“Booker, no,” Katie said. “You already have court-mandated anger management classes. Don’t ask for more trouble.”
His hand rasped over the stubble on his chin. “Get some sleep. I’m going home so I can shower.”
“You don’t have any suggestions for the baby’s name?”
“I think you should call him Troy.”
“Why?”
“Troy’s cool.”
The half smile on his face made Katie suspicious. “Troy wouldn’t be the “T” in Booker T., would it?” she asked.
He grinned. “Maybe it is. But I did deliver him. And you asked me what I thought.”
“Troy Rogers,” she said, trying it on for size. “I like it. What about a middle name?”
“Troy’s my best shot.”
He started to leave but she called him back. “Thanks for last night,” she said.
With a nod, he was gone.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
BOOKER SLEPT most of the day. When he woke at dinnertime, he took Delbert and Bruiser to the shop, because Delbert was going stir-crazy being cooped up in the house all day and Booker wanted to help Chase close up. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened in his absence—except that the mayor had dropped off his Lincoln Continental so Booker could fix the knocking in the engine. Rebecca’s father typically took his vehicles to the next town for service. That he’d brought his car to Lionel & Sons gave Booker the town’s official seal of approval—at last. But Booker had never vied for Rebecca’s father’s good opinion and certainly hadn’t been holding his breath.
“Good job today,” Booker told Chase, clapping the nineteen-year-old on the back as Chase prepared to leave. “What time did you tell Mayor Wells we’d have an estimate on his—”
A feminine hem hem interrupted.
Booker looked up to see Mary Thornton standing just outside the open door to his office. Dressed in a red suit and spiky heels that matched her flashy little sports car, which was parked at the edge of the lot, she smiled sweetly. “Sorry to interrupt. I was hoping you might have a minute to speak to me, Booker.”
“Is something wrong with your BMW?” he asked. Mary also typically took her car to the next town for service. She hadn’t cared for Booker since the day they met. When he was fifteen, he used to sit in the bleachers during cheerleading practice and make fun of her and the other cheerleaders. She’d told him way back then that he’d never amount to anything, and liked to treat him as though she hadn’t changed her mind, although he was beginning to notice that, as his business prospects improved, so did her opinion of him. She’d begun to wave or smile whenever she saw him.
He hoped the fact that he never responded with much enthusiasm would keep the waving and smiling to a minimum. He didn’t find himself as eager to be friends with Mary Thornton as she seemed to think he should be.
“No, nothing’s wrong with the Beemer,” she said, dimpling. “Although it could probably use a good oil change if you—”
“We’re pretty busy around here this time of year,” Booker said. “You might want to see whoever’s been doing it in the past.”
Chase coughed into his hand at Booker’s response, and Mary blinked as if she found it surprising he’d turn away a whole $29.95. “Well…can
we talk at least?” She glanced at Chase. “Privately?”
“I was just leaving,” Chase said. “See you tomorrow, Booker.”
As soon as Chase scooted past Mary, he turned and waggled his eyebrows at Booker.
Booker waved him away. “What can I do for you, Mary?”
Her bottom lip came out in a calculated pout. “I don’t know how you feel, but I think we’re long overdue to resolve some of the issues between us.”
“What issues?”
She cleared her throat. “Well…the resentment, for one. I mean, we’re close to the same age, live in the same town, know the same people, go to the same places. And yet I’ve never felt comfortable around you. Surely after fifteen years, we can put our differences behind us.”
Delbert came out of the garage carrying the CV joint he’d removed from Bill Wytrop’s minivan. “Booker, can you—” His words fell off the moment he spotted Mary. “Hi, Mary. You look beautiful today.” He hurried closer, always eager for company. “Are you going out? Are you going somewhere special? Huh, Mary?”
She slid to her right, as if she thought Delbert might infect her with a contagious disease. But she didn’t seem any happier to encounter Bruiser, who’d followed Delbert out of the garage and circled around to sniff her on the other side. “I’m just on my way home from work,” she said.
As usual, Delbert didn’t pick up on her negative response, which made Booker willing to overlook it. Mary certainly wasn’t the first person to snub Delbert. As long as whoever was doing the snubbing didn’t take it too far—like the Smalls—Booker let it go.
“You look nice,” Delbert repeated.
“Thank you.” She attempted a smile, but it was almost pained. “Anyway,” she went on, immediately turning her attention back to Booker, “I was wondering if you could meet me for a drink at the Honky Tonk later on.”
“I was up late last night. I don’t think I’ll be coming in to town tonight. But if I do, I’ll look for you.” He hoped a noncommittal approach would get him off the hook without damaging her pride. It wasn’t as if he disliked Mary with any real intensity. He’d never been impressed by her shallowness or, more specifically, her need to pretend she was more than she was. But he realized she was lonely and embarrassed that her life hadn’t turned out to be the success story she’d expected. Caring so much about other people’s opinions had to be a terrible burden.
“Okay, sure.” Her smile faltered for a moment, but then a more purposeful gleam entered her eyes. “I’ll hang out there and hope you stop by. Now that Mike and Katie are seeing each other, the two of us should stick together, don’t you think?”
“Mike and Katie?”
“Yes. They’ve been seen together all over town. And now that she lives on the ranch, who really knows what’s going on.”
Suddenly Booker thought he understood the intent of Mary’s visit. She was afraid she was losing Mike to another woman the way she’d lost Josh to Rebecca. She wanted to rile Booker, make him jealous so he’d get in the way, cause a problem, maybe even win Katie back. But Booker had already played all his cards—two years ago. Now he was stepping out of the way, not getting further involved. “I don’t like being manipulated,” he said. “So don’t bother trying.”
“What?” Her eyes widened in feigned surprise.
“Quit playing games,” he said. “I’m the last person who’d do anything to stop Mike and Katie from getting together. She’s loved him since she was a girl. Everyone knows that.”
“You don’t care?” she asked, sounding crestfallen.
Booker could no longer deny, at least to himself, that the exact opposite was true. Last night he would’ve walked through fire to reach Katie. He was still in love with her, and no amount of denial or logic could change that. But he also knew he cared enough about her to let her have the one man she’d always wanted. A man he knew would be good to her and the baby.
He’d recognized the truth the night he spent at Ashleigh’s. But he hadn’t completely released Katie, or he wouldn’t be planning to head back to the hospital tonight.
He had no business going back, he decided. He needed to stay away. And he needed to get a message to Mike Hill so Katie wouldn’t be alone in that hospital for long.
“No,” he said and added a manufactured shrug to make it convincing.
MIKE SAT IN O’RILEY’S, a trendy pub in downtown Austin, watching a basketball game on the TV in the corner and having some buffalo wings and beer with Josh and Rebecca. Patty’s Charm, the stallion they’d come to see, had turned out to be as beautiful an animal as they’d been told, and they’d decided to purchase him. For the past twenty minutes, they’d been tossing figures around, trying to come up with an offer. But for once, Mike’s mind wasn’t really on business. He’d tried calling Katie earlier in the day, right before dinner and again just a few minutes ago, and hadn’t been able to reach her.
He was beginning to find it strange that she was gone so long. Especially because she spent most of her time on her computer and didn’t generally leave the cabin.
“Hello? Are you going to answer me?” Josh nudged him with an elbow.
Mike quit staring blankly at the TV and focused on his brother. “What was the question?”
Josh scowled. “What’s wrong with you, man? You haven’t said more than two words all night.”
“What are you talking about?” Mike responded. “We’ve been putting together an offer.”
“Rebecca and I have been putting together an offer. Your contribution is an occasional grunt. And, for a while there, we lost you completely. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I just—” He glanced at Rebecca, knowing instinctively that she wouldn’t like what he had to say. She could sense that his interest in Katie was changing and, because she was so protective of Booker, she didn’t like it. But Mike couldn’t hold her preferences against her. Rebecca was fiercely loyal to everyone she loved, and Booker had been her friend long before Mike had become her brother-in-law. “I’m just wondering why I haven’t managed to reach Katie,” he admitted.
“Why have you been trying?” Rebecca immediately pounced on the statement, as he’d known she would.
“I just want to check up on her,” he responded, keeping his voice neutral.
“We’ve only been gone a day and a half.”
“So?”
He could see her eyes narrow even in the dim interior of the bar. “Are you two an item?”
“I wouldn’t say that, no.”
“But you’re interested?”
“Maybe.”
“I thought you regarded Katie as a little sister.” She raised her eyebrow. “You’ve said so time and time again.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?” Rebecca asked.
“Before she came back.”
Josh’s expression bore a noticeable amount of skepticism. “What’s changed?”
Mike couldn’t really say. “She’s matured,” he replied with a shrug.
“She’s pregnant,” Rebecca pointed out.
“That’s pretty tough to miss.”
“It doesn’t bother you?” Josh asked. “In case you’re confused, a pregnant woman isn’t a casual date. Pregnant women nest. They want to marry and settle down.”
Rebecca pushed her small plate away. “Usually the words ‘settle down’ are enough to send you running for cover. And with Katie, you’re talking about someone who’s had a crush on you for decades, so you know she’s going to want a ring.”
Mike took a sip of his beer. “I’m not sure she has a crush on me anymore. Like I said, she seems different. And I’m not afraid of commitment. How many times do I have to tell you that? I just haven’t met the right woman.”
“But you think Katie might be the right woman?” Rebecca asked.
Mike let his breath go in a long sigh. “I don’t know. She needs someone right now. That’s all. I’m trying to be her friend. If our relationship develops from there, then
—” he wiped the condensation from his beer “—then we’ll make adjustments.”
Josh gave Rebecca a significant look. “What do you think? Is my big brother finally falling for someone?”
“I’m afraid he might be.” Rebecca propped her chin on her fist. “Poor Booker. Why does it have to be Katie?”
Mike stood and tossed some cash onto the bar. “I wouldn’t make any wedding plans yet,” he said. “I’m going to my room to check my messages.”
“Mike?” Rebecca called as he was walking away
He turned to look at her.
“Katie can’t go wrong with either one of you,” she said.
Tipping his hat, he grinned. When Josh had first said he was marrying Rebecca, Mike had thought he was making a terrible mistake. But he’d since come to appreciate Rebecca’s passion, determination, loyalty and, more than anything, the depth of her love for his brother.
He supposed he and Rebecca were becoming family.
AS KATIE’S BABY SUCKLED at her breast, she stared down at him, overcome by the powerful emotions she felt whenever she held him, thought of him or nursed him. The slight weight of Troy Matthew in her arms, bundled tight in delivery blankets, along with the sweet scent that clung to him, satisfied some deep inner craving. She was a mother. At this point in her life, she had few close friends, no computer and only a small cabin in which to live, but suddenly she didn’t care. She’d find a way to provide. This child was hers, and she was going to stand by him and protect him at all costs.
A dark-haired nurse breezed into the room, wearing a purple flowered smock, white slacks and white squishy shoes. “Hi there,” she said. “You just about done?”
Katie frowned at the sight of her. Not because she didn’t like this particular nurse but because the appearance of any nurse while she had the baby generally resulted in his being taken away and returned to the incubator in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.
“Can’t we take his temperature and see if he’s stable enough to stay with me a little longer?” Katie asked.