by Dianne Drake
“It is clinical. I found what I thought would be a good genetic match for her, bought the frozen semen...”
He looked up, saw that her face had gone ashen. “What?” he asked, pushing himself out of the chair. “What’s wrong?
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I just need to...take a shower...” She swallowed hard. Looked up at him. “Why wouldn’t you have simply put her out in a pasture with one of your stallions and let nature take its course?”
“Because nature’s course in the case of my two stallions wasn’t good enough. If the best was out there to be had, that’s what I wanted. Because...” He shrugged. “Because I wanted to produce championship offspring. Or, at least, take my best shot at producing a champ. It’s done all the time, Deanna. People want—”
“Champions,” she said.
“What just happened?” he asked, stepping forward, only to have her step back. “You went from friendly to...I guess the best way to describe it would be stricken.”
“Backache. Comes and goes.”
She wasn’t telling the truth. It was obvious. In fact, the expression on her face was a dead giveaway when she was trying to be evasive. It had all started when he’d mentioned inseminating his horse, which had probably reminded her of... Damn, he was stupid!
“Look, I’m sorry. I know it sounded like a cold, calculating thing, having my horse inseminated, but in the animal world it’s a big business.”
“In the people world, too. Choose a pretty face from a book, check their IQ, their profession, their background. What’s not big business about that?”
Hormonal swing? Maybe he’d just touched a raw nerve. The problem was, with Deanna he wasn’t sure how to untouch it. “It was a choice, Deanna. You, Emily and her husband...a choice from your heart to help them. That’s not big business. In fact, it’s about as personal as it gets.”
“It’s just too close,” she said, shrugging. “Especially when I’m still not used to...to any of it.”
“For what it’s worth, you’re going to make a sensational mother.” He reached for his boots and regretted having to put them on, but he was already an hour late starting his day and he did want to get down to Nell to see how the birthing was progressing.
“I see it in you, Deanna. And that’s not the doctor observing the nurse but me observing you. Even if your situation isn’t what you might have chosen for yourself, that baby you’re carrying is one lucky little kid to be getting you.”
She walked over to the rear window and looked out at Brax’s pasture for a moment. Then drew in a deep breath and let it out.
“I’m not a nurturer the way you’re supposed to be when you have children, Beau. I rely on judgement, knowledge and skill, but I don’t have that natural instinct good mothers have. For this baby, there are things I know I have to do—eat properly, get good rest, avoid certain activities.
“But that’s all knowledge from a book, not knowledge from inside me. And I think getting myself so deeply entrenched in Sugar Creek almost from the moment I arrived is a distraction I probably, subconsciously, want because it puts off the inevitable.”
“Which is?”
“Wondering if I can be a good mother to this baby.” She swiped at tears she didn’t want to shed, especially so early in the day. “It’s all I worry about now, and I’m sure some of this is a hormonal swing. That, plus my back hurts and I’m not even...” She gestured a big belly.
“I can’t help you with the hormonal swings, and other than telling you I think you’re going to be a fantastic mother there’s nothing I can do about that. But I can do something for your back, if you let me.” he said. Standing, he walked over to the window, stood behind her, but kept his distance. “You have to be willing to let someone help you, rather than pushing them away.”
“I don’t really do that, do I?”
He chuckled. “You’ve got more ways to push people aside than anyone I’ve ever seen.”
“But you’re the persistent one, right? The one who wants to conquer that in me?”
“Not conquer it. Just prove to you that you can let people in and not get hurt all the time.”
“But get hurt some of the time.”
“We all get hurt, Deanna. You can’t avoid it. It’s called life, and sometimes life just knocks you down.”
“Like your divorce?”
“Not the divorce. It stung, but it had to be done. But I had other expectations in that marriage, things that I wanted as badly as you wanted to help Emily, and they were taken away from me the way Emily was taken from you.
“And while I’m not equating your tragedy with mine, I just want you to know that I did get hurt, and if it hadn’t been for the people I let in, I’d probably still be wallowing in it.”
“What?” She asked, turning to face him. “What hurt you that deeply?”
“The betrayal, for starters. And the knowledge that I’d been so oblivious to something everyone around me saw. But most of all...we were in the pre-baby planning stages. At least, I thought we were. But it wasn’t working out, she wasn’t getting pregnant, and that’s when it started to fall apart between us. Or, at least, that’s what I tell myself to keep from sounding so utterly stupid. Because we were never, truly together.”
“But you wanted a child?”
“Not when she did, but yes. Then when she told me she was...”
“She was pregnant?”
He shook his head. “That’s what she said but it was another one of her lies to hold onto me. Or shall I say my wealth.”
“But you can’t fake a pregnancy. Maybe for a little while, but...”
“She never planned past the first part of it. You know, tell your husband whatever you have to then figure out how to deal with it. Well, when I didn’t see symptoms, like morning sickness...”
“I don’t get morning sickness.”
“Yes, but you don’t consume wine either. Or spend time in a hot tub, or tell me you’re going to visit your mother when, in fact, you’ve gone off for some tweaking on your eyelids. She had an elective cosmetic procedure done, and when I found about it, I knew she wasn’t pregnant because no reputable plastic surgeon would do that on a pregnant woman.”
“I’m so sorry, Beau. It must have been awful.”
“Finding out my whole marriage was a lie? Yes, it was awful. But the thing is Brax was there to help me through it. And Joey. I had to let them in, though.”
“Which is what I don’t do.”
“It’s not easy.”
“But it shouldn’t be so hard either. I just don’t have much experience.”
“Stay here long enough and the whole town of Sugar Creek will embrace you and your baby, Deanna. That’s the way the people here are.”
“And you’re one of those people.” She reached over and gave his arm an affectionate squeeze. Then swiped at one stray tear that had held back for a solo journey down her cheek, and sniffled. “Starting with that back massage, I hope.”
Beau held up his hands and wiggled his fingers again. “Any time.”
“If you have time, how about I grab a quick shower first, then...?” She wiggled her own fingers back at him.
“Sounds good to me.” To heck with the time of day, to heck with all the things he had to get done. Giving Deanna a massage suddenly topped his list of things he wanted to do, and that’s all that mattered. So he went back to his chair, kicked off his boots again, settled in and listened to the sound of the water hitting the sides of the shower.
Tried hard not to imagine that same water hitting Deanna. She was pregnant, after all. And while he was a man, and those thoughts came naturally, he shouldn’t be having them. Not now, and especially not about a pregnant woman. But, damn, they wouldn’t go away!
* * *
“It’s getting compl
icated,” she said to the baby as she adjusted the shower spray so she could feel the sting of the water pellets. They invigorated her, would hopefully knock some sense back into her. Whatever was she thinking, melting down in front of him that way? But he’d been so clinical, talking about picking out the perfect sample for his horse, talking about wanting to breed a champion. She understood that in the animal world, especially for someone like Beau who loved his horses.
But his clinical example had turned into her personal example when she’d started to wonder if he considered himself the champion women would want to father their children. Had that been his reason to donate sperm? If it was, it didn’t make sense after how he’d described what he’d gone through after discovering his wife’s lie about her pregnancy.
Yes, it was definitely getting complicated. “But I don’t think he’s like that,” she said, laying both hands across her belly. Still, the proof might be in the life she was carrying. Did it really matter why he’d donated? For curiosity’s sake, it mattered now more than it had before because...
“Because I know him now. And don’t get me wrong,” she continued, “you have an amazing daddy. He’s someone...” Someone she might have picked for herself. Beau himself. Not his sperm. She liked his devotion to a cantankerous old man. Liked the way he took care of the people in Sugar Creek. Even liked his connection to nature.
Most of all, she liked his sense of duty. Beau tried harder than most people to make his life work in a place he didn’t necessarily want to spend his life. Giving up a surgical practice to take on GP duties. Giving up the whole New York experience for quiet little Sugar Creek. All because he was a dedicated man who had a higher sense of obligation that she’d ever seen in anybody else.
“I’m glad he’s your daddy, and not...” She bit off her words. No, she didn’t have the right to say them out loud. Or even think them. Because that would be disloyal to Emily, and she’d never, ever do that. Emily had wanted her husband’s baby. This was supposed to be Alex’s baby. If it had been...
Bad thoughts. Horrible thoughts, and she didn’t want them anywhere near her, or the baby. So she turned the shower spray to cold and let the icy water shock her back into reality. “It’s going to be fine,” she said moments later, while stepping out of the shower. “We’re going to figure out how to deal with everything.”
But everything was a mess. And the mess was getting bigger. Getting close to Beau had been a mistake. Letting him get close to her was just as big a mistake. She knew that as well. Then working for him on top of everything else?
That’s what was on her mind as she pulled on some jersey knit pants and a T-shirt and headed down the stairs, fully aware she was only compounding the mistakes by allowing his fingers to travel the length of her spine. Yet, for now, she didn’t care. This wasn’t about the baby, it wasn’t about anything except...her. God help her, this was what she wanted to do no matter how much she knew she shouldn’t.
* * *
“If you want my unprofessional opinion, I think you should quit being a doctor and become a masseur.” Five minutes and she was already feeling better. For some reason he knew exactly where she hurt. “You’ve got a fortune in those fingers. I could almost guarantee you instant success, even in a place like Sugar Creek.”
He chuckled. “And wouldn’t that just give everybody here something to talk about?”
“Until they experienced your fingers. Then they’d know.” Yes, they would know. The way they probably knew that she was fixing dinner for Arthur Handler tonight. She’d invited him, he’d accepted, with the stipulation that he’d bring the wine...for himself. And a very pleasing local fruit juice for her. He’d also told her to include Beau in that invitation but so far she hadn’t because up until now she’d managed to keep everything just about professional between them. Including this massage: it was necessary for her best performance later on, in the clinic. That’s what she was telling herself, at any rate.
“Massages first, then what? A day spa?”
“Nothing wrong with a day spa. I treat myself to one a couple of times a month. It’s nice to have somebody pamper you for a few hours.” His fingers pressed deeply along the right of her spine and she sucked in her breath then released it slowly. “Lets you... Oh, my...you’re on it.” Perfectly on it. “That’s not going to give me trouble throughout my pregnancy, is it? When I’m bigger?”
“It could. The strain isn’t bad, but the more weight you put on your front, the more it’s going to pull on your back.”
She’d escaped morning sickness, so maybe this was the trade-off. “How long will I be able to have massages?”
“For as long as you want them, provided you find someone who’s willing to do them while you’re on your side, or even sitting up.”
She wanted to ask him if he’d continue with this while she was here, but that was out of line. This was a one-off massage, and anything else turned it into a personal situation. If she wasn’t comfortable inviting him to dinner, even with another person there, asking him to work on her back a couple times a week was as far out of the question as it was her comfort zone. But she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to.
* * *
“I’ll give my grandson credit where it’s due. He was smart to bring you in.”
It had been a nice morning, the first part spent with Beau, the second part reading, and now she was on her way to work, walking across the front yard on her way to the clinic. With Brax tagging along, keeping better pace than she might have expected from a man recovering from a stroke.
“So you weren’t against it? Beau led me to believe you don’t want anything changing around here.”
“In theory, that’s right. I don’t. It’s still my medical practice but nobody seems to remember that. But in practice...” He shrugged. “I can see that some changes might help things. You being one of those changes.”
“You do know I’m not here permanently, don’t you? I’ll be leaving in a month, and Beau’s going to have to find someone else to replace me if the two of you can come to an agreement about bringing in outside help.”
She’d leave sooner, if she could force herself to leave. It was getting too cozy, too easy, and while she kept telling herself it was temporary, something in her heart was telling her she wanted it to be permanent, that she was in a settling-down kind of mood.
“Maybe even a couple of people because the catchment area of this practice is huge. What happens when he’s either up in the mountains seeing Arthur Handler or en route to the hospital? What happens if there’s an emergency in Sugar Creek where he’s needed, and he’s not here?”
“We’ve always managed.”
“You’ve managed and from everything I hear, you’re an excellent doctor. But Beau wasn’t educated in your medical system and his first choice in what he wants to practice is not what you’ve set up here.” She opened the front door and held it open as Brax passed through.
“That’s not saying that you have to agree with him on everything, or he with you, but you’ve got to come to some sort of an understanding about who’s in charge and who’s making the decisions, or Beau will go back to New York and you’ll either have to close the practice altogether or bring in a complete stranger. And somehow I don’t see that working for you so well.”
“So nothing I’ve done before my grandson took over matters? Is that what you’re telling me?”
She went to the blinds and opened them to the view of the mountain, then turned on the light. “Everything you’ve done here matters. But what Beau’s trying to do here matters, too, and you’ve got to take that into consideration if he decides to stay.
“Honestly, I think he wants to stay, but with the way you keep going at him, that means turning himself into something he never set out to be. You’re not making it easy on him by demanding he keep everything the same as it was then fighting h
im when he makes a change.”
“Then he should be the one telling me. Not you!”
This wasn’t her crisis to solve. But she cared. Deep down, she wanted it to work out for both men because...they were kin to the baby she was carrying, and something about that mattered.
“Maybe he has tried to tell you and you weren’t listening.” Walking over to alcove where the coffee pot sat empty, she picked it up and went to fill it. “I know your life is disrupted,” she said, returning to the waiting area, “and you don’t like things the way they are now. But Beau’s life is just as disrupted as yours, and none of this is what he wants either.”
“Then he should get the hell out and go back where he belongs!” Brax snapped, taking the coffee pot out of her hands and finishing the task of making coffee.
“It’s an option, and your attitude is pushing him in that direction. But that’s not what you want, is it?”
He stopped for a moment, looked at the loose coffee he was about to pour into the filter, then sighed. “What I want doesn’t matter. Not any more.”
“I think Beau giving up his life in New York to be here with you says otherwise. Or would say otherwise if the two of you would quit knocking heads. And you’re equally guilty on that account, Brax.”
“I take it back. He should have never brought you in.”
She laughed. “Because I tell the truth, and the truth hurts?”
Plopping the filter into place, he put the pot on the hot plate then stepped away. “Because you’re too damned perceptive.”
“And women should be seen, not heard, right? And their place is in the kitchen, fixing waffles.”
He grudgingly gave in to a smile. “You’ve got a sharp tongue, young lady.”
“And I know how to use it.” She arched playful eyebrows back at him
“So you do. Now, what can I do to help you? I’ve got a free afternoon, and if you really think this clinic needs someone else, I’m the one.”
“Is Beau going to go for this?”
“Hell, no. But you’ll go to bat for me, won’t you?”