by Donna Alward
“You’re going to be a great mom, no question. And who knows? Maybe someday you’ll find the right guy.”
She swallowed. She’d found him already, when she was fourteen. That ship had sailed. She already knew what it was like to be caught in a marriage that wasn’t built on the real thing. Oh, she’d done a good job of lying to herself, but she knew the truth. She’d never loved Scott the way she should have. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t fought harder to keep him.
And he hadn’t loved her completely, either. Otherwise he would have been faithful.
She swallowed against a thick lump in her throat. Together, she and Scott had made a mess of everything, hadn’t they? They’d been too young, too foolish.
“Mel?”
“Hmm?” Coop’s voice pulled her out of her musings.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since last night. What would you say if I told you I have a solution to your problem?”
“A solution? I don’t follow.”
He turned away from the fence and faced her with an intense gaze. His whole demeanor was sober, telling her that whatever was coming next was really important. She didn’t know why, but a heaviness that felt like a warning began a slow slide through her body, landing in her stomach.
He picked up her hand. “What if I helped you have a baby?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
MEL STARED AT HIM, wondering if she’d heard him correctly. What he was suggesting was preposterous. And yet the steely look in his eye told her he meant every syllable.
“Cooper, that’s ridiculous.” She felt as if the blood rushed out of her body as she ripped her hand away. Oh, she never should have confided in him last night! She’d grieved a little and then told herself she simply had to move ahead with the next plan. The last thing she needed was Coop breathing life into the old dream again.
Not to mention this was Coop. The whole idea was fraught with so many problems she wasn’t sure she could count them all.
“It’s not ridiculous. For heaven’s sake, Mel, who knows you better than I do? Look, I feel partially responsible for your life blowing up in the first place. This could make things right. I know you’ll be a fantastic mom.”
She drew back, and her gaze shifted from surprise to suspicion. “Is that what this is? Redemption for you? A way to make you feel better? Because if that’s the case, I don’t want it.”
His brow wrinkled. “Don’t call it redemption. What I did was wrong, and I’ve regretted it every day since. Maybe this is a way to make amends. You want to be a mom. Why shouldn’t I help if I’m able? Isn’t that what friends do? Help each other?”
Help? She was almost scared to ask the next question, but knew she had to. Cautiously, she looked up at him. “What exactly are you offering, Coop? Because this sounds a little above and beyond the requirements of friends.”
“To be the father of your baby.”
She needed to sit down. The blood rushed out of her head and she felt strangely light. In the absence of any place to sit she held on to the fence rail, gripping the wood with white knuckles.
For a split second she had thought that perhaps he was just going to offer her money to continue trying the treatments. But no, he’d actually said the word father.
“Before you freak out, just listen to me,” he pressed. “I thought about this all last night. Wouldn’t it be better to know who the father of your child is? I mean, you know me, my family, where I come from. Heck, you’d have my genetic history, for that matter. Isn’t that better than some stranger from a lab?”
She had to admit that she’d had qualms about not really knowing the donor. There were benefits to that sort of anonymity and there were drawbacks. Any details she saw on paper told her nothing about the man behind the profile. What was he like? Was he a hard worker, funny, kind? Did he like to read or go to movies, did he like the outdoors or was he more of an urban jungle type? And here was Coop. Hardworking, handsome, healthy Coop. Offering to be her baby daddy.
Not in a million years had she seen this coming. The very idea seemed to suck the air clean out of her lungs.
“You haven’t really thought about this,” she began cautiously. This was a disaster in the making and she knew it. Yet a part of her hummed with hope. What he was offering was a chance. A way to not give up the idea of having her own child.
But with Coop... She gazed up at him. He shouldn’t look different than he had only moments before, but he did. She suddenly noticed the way his chest and shoulders filled out his Edmonton Eskimos sweatshirt. The narrowness of his hips and long legs, and the way his jeans seemed to show off his assets to best advantage. She saw his strong, sexy jaw, smoldering eyes and thick, dark hair. And she wasn’t just cataloging his features in genetic terms. It was a deep down, visceral acknowledgment that Coop was incredibly good-looking, rugged and fit.
Cooper was gorgeous. And oh, she could just imagine that he’d make gorgeous babies.
On the heels of her assessment came a lightning strike of images so intense that she bit down on her lip. Making a baby with Coop, the traditional way...
She cleared her throat. “Um, how exactly did you see this happening?” she asked. She heard the wobble of nerves in her voice and felt like an idiot. But really, how was one supposed to talk about this kind of thing? It was the strangest conversation, with a plethora of land mines to sidestep. “I mean, did you think we...or would you...”
She was so embarrassed. She half hoped the ground would open up and swallow her.
“Would we—” God, his voice was soft as silk “—go about it the usual way?”
She looked up and nodded.
His expression stayed exactly the same—unreadable—as he answered her query with one of his own. “Would you want to?”
Let me die right now.
Again with the images. She was not thinking about sleeping with Coop. She was not.
Only she was. At fifteen she’d dreamed about kissing him. It had been angsty and innocent. At twenty-seven, it was completely different. And that was exactly why it couldn’t happen.
“No,” she replied, though she suspected she didn’t sound very convincing.
“I could be your donor,” he said quietly.
Melissa tried to make sense of all the thoughts running through her brain. When she’d thought about coming out here today it had been to escape the noise in her head. To let go of what had been, and to clear a space for thinking about the next step. This was all too much.
She looked around. The sun was still shining, though dropping a little lower in the sky as the afternoon waned. The birds still chattered, the horses grazed, foals frolicked in the pasture—nothing had changed. And yet everything had changed. It had all shifted with his crazy offer to give her the one thing she wanted most.
“And what about the baby?” Her heart lodged in her throat as she asked. “You’re prepared to be a sperm donor? Because I’m not looking for any personal entanglements, Coop. How do you see your role in this...after?”
My word, was she actually considering it?
“The baby would be yours, of course,” he said calmly, coming forward and taking her hands. “I want to do this for you, Mel. One...friend to another.”
As he held her hands she was reminded of how he’d kissed her last night, and the brief flare of passion that had erupted between them. She’d been unable to stop the rush of desire at the touch of his lips on hers. Whether they admitted it or not, there was now this thing between them, muddying the waters.
Besides, she knew Coop. She knew him probably better than anyone else on the planet. He would never be satisfied with fathering a child and then stepping back as if it had never happened. Especially in a town this size, where their presence would be front and center every day. He wouldn’t be one to stand on the sidelines while hi
s son or daughter grew up, started school, learned to ride a bike.... It simply wasn’t in Cooper’s DNA and she knew it.
She tried to imagine what a child of theirs might look like, and her heart lurched. Hazel eyes like Coop. Maybe her hair, her nose. She closed her eyes. Coop’s smile.
“Don’t answer now,” he said, letting go of her hands. “Take some time to think about it. It’s a big decision. Just know that I’m here, and I’ll help you any way I can.”
She couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat, so she nodded. The fact that he’d even offered...
“Listen, I don’t know what your parents have planned, but we’re doing our Thanksgiving dinner next Monday. Why don’t you join us? Dad’s going to try deep-frying the turkey this year. And Mom’s guaranteed to have pumpkin pie.”
“My parents are still going to be on their New England trip,” Melissa admitted. “I don’t have plans.”
“Then you should definitely come. Maybe we can saddle up Misty for you and we can go for a ride after dinner. And you can tell me what you’ve decided.”
She couldn’t deny that there was a part of her that understood the logic behind his offer. And he was right about one thing—she should take time to think it over before she made a final decision. “That might be nice,” she answered weakly.
They turned from the pasture and began walking back to the house. They passed the barn, where a couple of the hired hands were doing evening chores. The sound of laughter and shuffling hooves echoed through the open doors, and Coop lifted a hand in greeting to one worker as they passed.
They finally paused by Melissa’s car. Coop shifted his weight as she put her hand on the door handle, knowing she should open it, but not quite wanting the afternoon to end. It had been so great—being included in the game and snacks, seeing the babies in the pasture, the warm afternoon. Even Coop’s unorthodox suggestion didn’t take away from the fact that she’d felt very welcomed and included. Maybe too included.
But it wasn’t just that. She didn’t want to leave him. It wasn’t a new sensation, but it was one she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Not since she was a twitterpated teenager and she’d hoped, prayed every night, that one day Cooper would see her as a girl and not just a buddy. She’d spent hours daydreaming about a moment when he’d reach over and twine his fingers with hers, or slide forward that little bit and kiss her like a boy was supposed to kiss a girl. She’d wanted to be his—to wear his jacket and hold his hand and be the one to sit next to him in a booth at the Wagon Wheel, sharing a milkshake after a football game.
She’d waited...and waited...and waited. And then Scott had come along and offered her all the things that Coop had not.
That weightless, nervous anticipation was swirling within her right now, though. And all it had taken was one kiss, followed by a not-so-simple suggestion about making babies, to put it back in her head.
“I need to think,” she whispered, tugging on the door handle. “There’s a lot to think about.”
“You do that,” he answered. “I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.”
For some reason she felt a flicker of anger at the words. No, Cooper wasn’t going anywhere. He was as solid as the day was long. He was practically a saint in this town—a good boss, generous with his time, good-looking and affluent. He was damned near perfect.
And it had only taken him all these years to kiss her, and just because she was an emotional wreck. And now he was suggesting something incredibly amazing—but only as her friend, not as her lover.
“Why can’t I shake the feeling that you’re trying to buy your way back into my life?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, but his brows puckered as if he was annoyed. “I’m not proud of what my past actions say about me. Maybe I am trying to make up for that. If that’s looking for redemption, so be it. Is it so wrong for me to want you to be happy?”
“It’s just such an abrupt change....”
“Guilt kept me away for a long time. That and the way you looked at me with daggers in your eyes. I figured it had gone on long enough.”
She blinked, out of responses. Got behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. “See you at Thanksgiving,” she said through the open window, and he lifted a hand and waved as she drove off.
It wasn’t until she hit the main road that she felt the urge to cry. She didn’t, though. She forced herself to remain dry-eyed and steely jawed the entire time. But inside, the feelings were there. It was so obvious and hurtful.
It was the reason why she was so sure she would never marry. The one man who should have loved her hadn’t, and the one man she’d always wanted to love her never would.
Having Coop’s baby was out of the question. Because being in his life was not at all the same as sharing it, and only a foolish woman would put herself in that position.
* * *
Coop plopped his hat back on his head, grabbed his oilskin from the peg and shoved his arms in the sleeves as he made his way out the door. A cold front over the mountains had dropped a mere half inch of snow on the ground, and it had already disappeared as the precipitation turned to rain. But the rain was cold, and he still had hours of work to get through yet. The farrier was here, and one of the trainers, Luke, was down with the flu. Stu was helping work the horses today, but Coop knew that in just a few days a client would be making his way up from Montana expecting to pick up four horses. They were damned well going to be ready and worthy of coming out of Double C.
He turned up the collar of his jacket against the bitter rain and lowered his chin as he made his way to the barn.
No doubt about it, the rain wasn’t helping his mood any. But then, he’d been a bit grouchy ever since he’d offered to be the father of Mel’s baby.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. He understood her reasoning, even if he did think she was being a bit hasty. It also killed him to see her hurting, especially after all she’d been through. If she truly was determined to go through with this—and he could see that she was—he wanted to help.
And that was the problem, wasn’t it? He sidestepped a puddle and cursed under his breath. He would go to the moon for her. The only reason he’d stayed away so long was because he knew she had a right to be angry with him, and he’d wanted to give her space.
It had all changed when he’d kissed her. He’d lost his edge, the upper hand. It had made him weak. Willing to accept her friendship on whatever terms she offered. And wasn’t that a sure way to get hurt.
Light glowed from the barn windows and he pulled on the sliding door, anxious to get out of the wet. Yes, kissing her had been a mistake. And so had asking her if she wanted to go about things the “usual” way. Because while Scott had been wrong about Coop trying to split them up, he was dead right about Coop’s feelings.
If he told her everything about the night he’d confronted Scott, she’d finally understand the real reason he’d acted the way he had. But she would also wonder if his offer to be her donor was his way of making his move, insinuating himself into her life.
And while that hadn’t been his initial intent, he wondered that himself. Spilling his guts would take the tenuous trust they’d built lately and crush it to dust. And yet going on without telling her the truth was unthinkable. If nothing else, they had to reestablish their friendship with total honesty. Lack of honesty had been what had driven them apart in the first place.
He shut the door behind him and shook the water off his hat and shoulders. Maybe it was time he stopped letting his feelings for Mel make him look like a fool. But if he hadn’t figured out how to do that in ten years, he wasn’t too confident in his chances now, either.
* * *
Thanksgiving Monday came smack in the middle of a Chinook. The cloud arch formed to the west, cutting the sky in a precise arc, and the westerly wind was mil
d, bringing back an echo of summer. Mel was surprised to see extra cars already parked at the Ford house. For a moment she considered scooting away and then calling and making her apologies.
Instead she reached back into her car for the flower arrangement she’d brought, as well as a long, rectangular gift bag containing a bottle of wine. Why should she be alone today? The idea of roasting a single turkey breast and making boxed stuffing for herself sounded horrible. Especially when she had a perfectly good invitation.
She rang the bell and wished she had a free hand to run over her hair. She’d put it up in a simple twist, but was sure the blustery Chinook wind was ripping it to shreds. A piece flew free and stuck to her lipstick. Perfect. She was already unspeakably nervous about today, about seeing Coop again. To let him know her decision. She’d done nothing but think about it since the last time they spoke.
The door opened and Cooper stood there, dressed in jeans and a starchy-looking red plaid shirt, the front of his body covered by a cotton apron with the words Mr. Good-Lookin’ Is Cookin’ emblazoned on the front.
“You came.”
“You thought I wouldn’t?”
He grinned. It made the corners of his eyes crinkle and chased away some of her nerves, filling her with warmth and gladness. “I wondered if you’d turn coward.”
“Shows what you know,” she retorted, but she was smiling. “Do you suppose I could come in?”
“Oh, sure. Sorry.”
He stood aside and she stepped into the foyer. Voices echoed from the kitchen and then there was loud laughter. “Uncle Jason is here with Aunt Sheila, and so is Aunt Rae. It won’t be a quiet dinner.”
Mel was thinking that was just fine. It would save awkward conversations and she could melt into the background a little. But then she stepped into the kitchen and was immediately pounced on by Bob, who was feeling rather jovial—perhaps after a predinner cocktail.