WARRIOR'S BRIDE

by Nina Bruhns

  Her eyes said she still wanted him. He reached up and slid his hand behind her, gently pulling her toward him.

  "Cole, no." Her lips stopped just short of meeting his.

  He continued to coax her forward, but she resisted. "I can't do this."

  He pressed close to her, his baby nestled snugly against his abdomen. He breathed in Rini's sweet, warm breath, and willed her to yield to his embrace. But he could see the doubt written in her expression, and had to steel himself against pressing his mouth hard to hers and claiming its moist, dusky depths with his tongue.

  Honey, whoever he was, you're well rid of him.

  Cole closed his eyes and struggled to compose himself. "Rini, those women have nothing to do with you and me. With us. They're—"

  Suddenly, the baby gave a little kick against his stomach. He looked down, and his baby kicked him again.

  Oh, God, his baby. The baby she had planned to abandon.

  What in the devil's name was he doing?

  As if burned, he snatched his hand from her and looked up. She was staring at him incredulously.

  "You arrogant, conceited bastard! How dare you tell me those women have nothing to do with us!"

  She shoved hard against his chest, forcing him to take a step back to keep his balance. "You men are all alike! Only thinking of your own selfish needs. Never thinking of the wreckage you leave when you've taken your fill and moved on!"

  "Rini—" He reached out but was firmly slapped away.

  "Don't even think about touching me! You want to live the merry bachelor life, that's your choice. But my choice is that I want no part of it. Or you! And neither does my baby."

  "Your baby?"

  The irritation and frustration he felt boiled into anger, his mind homing in on her clear intention to exclude him from his baby's life, despite her assurances to the contrary. He'd known he couldn't trust her.

  His voice became dangerously quiet. "Your baby?"

  Surging forward, he placed his hands on either side of her belly, feeling the solid warmth within. "It was my seed that gave him life. He is my son, my family. I'll be damned if I'll give him up to be raised by strangers."

  She scowled. "I'm telling you I'm not giving him up! Not for adoption, not to you!"

  "And I'm telling you I want my child!"

  Rini stared at him wide-eyed. "Look, I know I can't give him the things you—"

  "Things!" Cole spat out, cutting her off. Turning on a heel, he paced to his desk, unable to see reason, unable to stand still, he was so caught up in the nightmare of his own memories. "What good are things when you don't have the love of your own mother and father?"

  He strode back and stood before her, fists clenched. "What about when he grows up and finds out he was an accident, that you didn't really want him? That I just stood by and gave him up without a fight?"

  Rini swallowed, looking thoroughly crushed. "I do want him," she whispered.

  Refusing to believe her, he leaned in close, missing her slight flinch at his movement. "Do you have any idea what that does to a kid's self-esteem?"

  She shook her head, her eyes liquid pools of hurt. "No."

  "Well I do. And it's not going to happen to my son."

  She let out a long, unsteady breath, her hunted gaze darting to his face before stubbornly retreating to the floor. "I won't let you have him, Cole. I can't."

  He leaned back on his heels, the determination in his soul solidifying to granite. "Then we're in for a fight, darlin', because there's no way in hell I'll give him up."

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  « ^ »

  A few days before Christmas, Cole walked into his mother's kitchen and gave her a hug. "Hi, Mom."

  "Hey, Punkus!" Julia McCleary smiled, holding her flour-covered hands away from his clothes. She had a smudge of butter on her cheek.

  "Mom, I'm thirty-six years old. You're going to have to stop calling me that." He wiped the butter from her cheek and then laid a kiss where it had been. "It's embarrassing."

  "Sorry, Punkus. I'll try and do better." She attempted to look contrite, failing miserably.

  Chuckling, Cole helped himself to a cup of coffee and tossed a smile to his dad, who sat at the kitchen table struggling with a pile of nuts and a pair of pliers. "Hi, Pop. Mom got you cracking macadamias again?"

  His dad, Ted, heaved a dramatic sigh and gestured helplessly. "Thanks to your cousin."

  "Tanya knows how much you love macadamia nuts in your Christmas cookies. I hear she had a bumper crop this year. The bag she gave you must be worth a small fortune on the open market."

  "That woman's kindness will cripple me one of these years," he said, stretching his fingers.

  Cole chuckled. "Here, let me take over."

  "Ah, respite for my aching hands. Just in time for the game, too. Come on in when the slave driver here gives you a break."

  Thoughtfully, Cole watched his dad retreat into the living room—the same room where Cole had spent much of his youth reading, playing cards and watching TV with the loving couple who had adopted him as a baby. When he caught his mom observing him curiously, he forced a smile, sat down at the table and began cracking nuts.

  It had been a ritual for as long as he could remember—he and his mom baking Christmas cookies together. Even during the rebellious years when he'd lived on the rez with Tanya's family, he'd always managed to find some excuse to come back home on the Saturday before Christmas.

  "You're quiet tonight, Cole. Anything wrong?"

  He wriggled out from under the doubt and indecision that had been building in him since he'd gotten there. He loved his adoptive parents and knew they loved him like he was their own. If he was bitter over his childhood ordeals, it wasn't because of them.

  Still, a kid belonged with his real mother and father, didn't he? Cole was doing the right thing by his son, fighting to be included in his life. In his heart he knew it. Even if he'd gone a bit too far in his anger with Rini the other day and overstated his case. He had no intention of taking the baby away from her. He just wanted to be there for him.

  Slowly, he set down the pliers and looked over at her. "Mom, I'm going to have a baby."

  "You? I'd like to see that." Julia grinned. But her amusement over his choice of words faded quickly when she caught sight of his face. "Oh, my gracious. You're serious!"

  He nodded.

  She dragged out a chair and sat down, her face suddenly ashen. "With who? Lindsay?"

  He made a face. "Mom, Lindsay and I never even slept together when we were married. Why would we start now?"

  She smiled weakly. "Who then?"

  "Her name is Rini Herelius. It's a boy. He's due in February."

  She looked dazed. "Why haven't I met her?"

  "It's complicated."

  "I see." Her hand trembled as she reached up and pushed her graying hair back from her face. "She doesn't want to marry you?"

  He shook his head, preferring not to bring up the minor detail that he hadn't asked her. "We're barely speaking. I might have to take her to court to establish my rights."

  "Is she Native American?" When he shook his head again, his mom lowered her hands to her lap and studied them, obviously torn. He had to strain to hear what she said next. "And you don't want him going through what you did."

  He knew his mom still blamed herself for the difficult years they'd gone through back when he'd rediscovered his Luiseño roots. "It wasn't your fault, Mom. You know that."

  "If it wasn't my fault, why did you have to run away to find out who you are?" She rose abruptly and went to check on the batch of cookies in the oven.

  "You did what you thought was right." He followed and put his arms around her from behind. "It's not your fault that when you looked at me you saw the son you loved, but when everyone else looked at me they saw an Indian kid trying to be white."

  "If only I'd known, if I'd been more sensitive… If I'd let you learn about your heritage…"

  "Yeah
, and if I weren't adopted things would be hunky-dory and the streets would be paved with gold." He turned her to face him. "I had the best parents a kid could have. Still do. I learned a lot of things during those years at Rincon, and that was one of them." He hugged her. "I'll admit I went through a private hell back then. But you're not the one I blame for it. Never."

  She sighed and pulled away, wiping her eyes. "Cole, one of these days you'll have to talk to her. Your real mother."

  "I think those cookies are burning, Mom. Better check them."

  Her gaze rested on his face for a moment longer before she took the oven mitt and turned her attention to the stove.

  He let out a breath, grateful she didn't go on. He didn't want to hear about how he ought to make things right between himself and his biological mother. He wasn't interested. She'd made her choice thirty-six years ago, and nothing was going to change what had happened to him because of it.

  "So how do you like the idea of having a grandson?"

  Pulling the cookie sheets from the oven, she beamed at him. "I like it a lot. But I'd like it even better if I got a daughter-in-law, to."

  "Sorry. Not this time."

  "Surely you must have loved her if you … well, if she got pregnant."

  He wasn't quite able to hold his smile in place as he answered. "Things just didn't work out."

  "Have you really given it a chance?"

  His lips formed a thin line. Rini was the one who hadn't given it a chance. Now it was too late for both of them. "It's not an alternative right now, Mom."

  "You still have feelings for her, don't you?"

  He didn't answer. He couldn't. But later, when Cole was ready to go, as if able to divine his deepest secrets, his mother slipped a round tin into his hands.

  "What's this?"

  "Cookies."

  He frowned.

  "For her."

  "Tanya?"

  "Rini. The mother of your baby. I want you to bring them to her, from me."

  "Mom—"

  "You've got three days until it's Christmas. That's plenty of time." She kissed him on the cheek. "Humor me."

  He sighed, knowing he couldn't refuse her annoying request. He'd do almost anything to make up for the years of heartache he'd caused her. Almost.

  "All right. But it won't do any good, so don't get your hopes up."

  * * *

  Cole stared at the tin of cookies sitting in front of him on the desk, and silently cursed.

  The last thing he wanted to do right now was stand nose-to-nose with Rini Herelius. After what had happened in his office the other day, she'd probably throw the tin in his face.

  Not that he didn't deserve it. He was still disgusted with himself for his unforgivable behavior. Oh, not the fight—that was perfectly understandable given the volatile emotions they both had concerning the subject of their baby.

  No, it was what he'd done before that. When he'd nearly kissed the woman. Again! He must be completely insane.

  But it was four-thirty on Christmas Eve, and he'd promised his mom. That meant he had to deliver the damned cookies tonight or tomorrow face the sad, disappointed look she had down to a fine art. And the guilt.

  Hell.

  He slowly straightened his tie, slipped on his jacket and tucked the cookies under his arm.

  * * *

  When the doorbell rag, Rini cast a disgusted glance at the front door. Impeccable timing, as always.

  She'd just sunk down in Alex's big, comfy armchair, which was so hard to get out of once settled into. She glanced hopefully toward the kitchen, where the family was preparing dinner, but no one else had heard the bell over the din of pots banging and knives chopping. Groaning, she eased herself out of the chair with the grace of a buffalo.

  Less than two months to go, she told herself. And not a moment too soon.

  Looking through the peephole in the door, she caught her breath. A tall, broad-shouldered figure was illuminated in the twilight by multicolored Christmas lights. Cole!

  She hadn't heard from him since that awful day in his office. What was he doing here on Christmas Eve? It couldn't be good news. Cautiously, she opened the door.

  He fingered the perfect knot in his silk tie. "Good evening."

  "Cole?"

  He smoothed the silk nervously with his fingers. "I tried the garage apartment. No answer."

  "I'm having dinner with…" Her words trailed off and she looked at him uncertainly.

  "Yeah, thought you might be. I, uh, I'm here to deliver some cookies."

  "Cookies?" What on earth…?

  "Christmas cookies from my mom." He showed her the round tin in his hands. "She wanted me to give them to you."

  Katarina was floored. "Your mother sent me cookies?"

  He glanced dubiously at the lights surrounding the door. "For Christmas."

  Her face must have reflected her disbelief.

  "I told her about the baby." One shoulder lifted almost apologetically as he stroked his tie again. "She's an incurable romantic."

  "I … that's very sweet. Um…" What should she do? Invite him in? God grief, Alex would love that.

  Katarina felt a little panicked, but she had to admit she was glad to see Cole standing at her door. She'd been thinking a lot about him since the other day. Thinking about the fight they'd had. About how she'd never really given him a chance to explain his side of what had happened at the powwow. About how he was right to want to be a part of his baby's life, even if they disagreed as to the extent.

  About his lips lowering to hers…

  She looked quickly into the empty living room, then back to him. "Would you like to come in?"

  He shook his head. "No. I don't think—"

  "Look, Cole, I'm sorry I blew up the other day. Are you sure you won't come in for just a moment?"

  "Yeah, me, too. But it probably wouldn't be to smart to stay, considering…"

  She looked down at her own foot playing with the bottom of the screen door. "Since when have we done what's smart?"

  His gaze trailed down her body to the evidence of that statement's truth. "Not so far, that I can tell."

  The shadow of a smile that played across his lips seemed genuine, if cautious. Looking at that sad smile, she knew she had to try and make things better between them. She desperately wanted him to believe she wouldn't shut him out of his child's life, if only he wouldn't take him from her.

  A hint of challenge covered the tremor in her voice. "You feeling smart tonight, warrior?"

  His expression turned wary. "Hell, if I had half the sense of a polecat I wouldn't be standing here right now." He cleared his throat. "But even a polecat knows when to turn tail and run." He extended the cookie tin toward her.

  Rebuffed but good. She lowered her eyes and bit her lip, then raised her hand to take the tin.

  Suddenly she stopped. No. She wouldn't let herself give in so easily. Just as she had her whole life.

  If she let him go now, there might never be another chance to straighten out this situation. To talk him out of taking her baby.

  She drew in a breath. "How about a deal? I'll take the cookies if you'll take a walk."

  He looked suspicious. "Off the end of a plank?"

  She smiled, relieved he had chosen humor instead of anger. "Don't give me any ideas, Counselor. No, around the block, with me." She grabbed her coat and slipped it on.

  After a short hesitation he relented. "I suppose that would be okay." He eyed her ample midsection under the gaping coat and frowned. "Are you sure about this?"

  "Don't be medieval. Exercise is good for pregnant women."

  "If you say so." He stepped closer, his tall frame towering over her. Once again she was struck by his sheer masculinity. She took a steadying breath and the faint scent of dusky cologne drifted across her senses. He reached out and pulled her coat collar together, buttoning the top button.

  She smiled up at him, won over by the tender gesture.

  Over the months, she had
gotten so used to being alone that she found it a bit frightening to think this overwhelmingly virile stranger had touched her deep inside and done things to her no other person ever had.

  And yet, when he smoothed down her lapels with his fingers and tentatively smiled back, she felt unexpectedly comforted and protected by his powerful presence. She wanted to slip into his strong arms and just lean on him for a day. A year.

  A lifetime.

  No! This was crazy! He was a hopeless rake and he didn't want her. He only wanted the baby—to take him from her. She had to concentrate on talking some sense into the man, not letting herself fall for him again.

  Going down the steps, he offered her his arm. After a second's indecision, she took it. Oh, why did he have to be so darned considerate? It would be much easier if he really were a heartless brute. She sighed.

  "You okay?"

  "Yes. Just thinking what a mess this whole thing is." They reached the end of the walkway. Before she could steer them one way or the other, he stopped and moved in front of her, looking earnestly into her eyes.

  "Before we get any further, I just want to say one thing." He waited for her nod before going on. "I want to say thank you."

  Her mouth dropped open.

  "In the same situation, a lot of women would have made a different choice. Regardless of what happens between us, I want you to know how happy I am you chose to have my baby."

  She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but this definitely wasn't it. He started walking again, and, in a daze, she allowed herself to be led down the sidewalk. He was thanking her for her choice?

  They walked along in thoughtful silence for a few minutes before she got up her courage and said, "Cole, I need you to believe that I am keeping the baby. And that I'd never keep you from—"

  "I do believe you," he interrupted. "Honestly. I don't know what came over me the other day, but I swear I would never, ever try to take the baby away from you."

  The tight squeeze around her heart slowly loosened. She stared at him, hope blossoming. "Is that true?"

  "Yes, it's true. I just want…" He raked a hand in his hair. "Look, I know I brought it up, but please, let's not talk about this tonight. It's Christmas Eve and I don't particularly feel like fighting. Let's just be Cole and Rini taking a walk, okay?"