“Adam! What are you doing here this hour of the morning?”
“Where’s Tate?”
“How the hell should I know?” Buck retorted.
By now Velma had joined him, wearing a flashy silk robe, and with her red tresses equally tangled. “What’s going on, Adam?”
It was obvious to Adam that Tate wasn’t here. But he didn’t know where else to look. “Do you mind if I come in?”
“Come on in and I’ll make us some coffee,” Velma said. “You can tell us what’s got you running around at this hour like a chicken with its head cut off.”
While Velma was in the kitchen making coffee, Adam put his elbows on the table and wearily rubbed his forehead. Buck waited patiently for Adam to speak his piece.
“Tate’s gone. Run away,” Adam said at last.
Buck whistled his surprise. “Thought that little filly loved you too much ever to leave you.”
Adam’s head came up out of his hands. “What?”
“Sure. You and that baby of yours was all she ever talked about.”
“My baby?”
“Sure as hell wasn’t mine!” Buck said.
Adam’s eyes narrowed. “She spent nearly the whole night with you. Twice.”
Buck laughed in Adam’s face. “We were here at Velma’s house the first night. And we fell asleep on the banks of the Frio after Velma and I had an argument on the second. There’s only been one woman for me. And that’s my wife.”
“You mean your ex-wife.”
Buck grinned and held up his left hand, which bore a gold wedding band. “I mean my wife. Velma and I got married again last Sunday.”
“Congratulations. I guess.” Adam was confused. “But if you’re not the father of Tate’s baby, then who is?”
Buck pursed his lips and shook his head. “I would think that has to be pretty obvious even to a blind man.”
“But I—” Adam swallowed and admitted, “I can’t father children.”
“Whoever told you that,” Buck said, “is a whopping liar.”
“But—” Adam shut his mouth over the protest he had been about to make. Was it really possible? Could Anne have lied to him? It was the only answer that would explain everything.
Adam jumped up from his chair just as Velma brought in the coffeepot.
“You’re not staying?” she asked.
“I’ve got to get in touch with someone in San Antonio.” He was going to see the doctor who had done those fertility tests and find out the truth for himself.
“When you’re ready to go after Tate, I have a suggestion where you might look,” Buck said.
“Where?”
“I figure she went home to her brothers. You’ll probably find her at Hawk’s Way.”
“Damn.”
Buck laughed. “I’d like to be a fly on the wall when you try to take her out of there.”
Adam wasn’t able to think that far ahead. Right now he had a doctor to visit in San Antonio.
Early the next afternoon Adam came out of a glass-walled office building feeling like a man who had been poleaxed.
“Your sperm count was low,” the doctor had said. “But certainly still within the range that would allow you to father children.”
“But why didn’t Anne and I ever conceive children?” he had demanded.
The doctor had shrugged. “It was just one of those things that happens with some couples.”
Anne had lied to him. Whatever her reasons—maybe she just hadn’t wanted to keep on trying—she had lied to him.
I’m going to be a father! Tate is pregnant with my child!
The realization was only just hitting him. Adam was floating on air. He had always intended to love the child because it was Tate’s, but the knowledge that the baby Tate was carrying was a part of him filled his cup to overflowing.
There was only one problem. Tate was at Hawk’s Way. And he was going to have to fight her brothers to get her back.
An hour later, he was in his pickup traveling north.
Adam shouldn’t have been surprised when he discovered the vastness of Hawk’s Way, but he was. The cliffs and canyons in northwest Texas were a startling contrast to the rolling prairies found on the Lazy S.
The ranch house was an imposing two-story white frame structure that looked a lot like an antebellum mansion with its four, twenty-foot-high fluted columns across the front and its railed first- and second-story porches. The road leading to the house was lined with magnolias, but the house itself was shaded by the branches of a moss-laden live oak.
Adam was glad to see that the barn and outbuildings were a good distance from the house. He was hoping to catch Tate alone and talk with her before he had to confront her brothers. He went around to the kitchen door, knocked softly and let himself inside.
Tate was standing at the sink peeling potatoes. She was wearing an apron, and sweat from the heat of the kitchen made her hair curl damply at her nape.
“Hello, Tate.”
Tate dropped both potato and peeler in the sink and turned to face Adam. Once she had wiped her hands dry, she kept them hidden in the folds of the apron so Adam wouldn’t see how much they were trembling.
“Hello, Adam,” she said at last. “I was just peeling potatoes for tonight’s pot roast.”
“You look tired,” he said.
“I haven’t been sleeping much the last couple of days.” She swallowed over the ache in her throat and asked, “What are you doing here, Adam?”
“I’ve come to get you. Go upstairs and pack your things. I’m taking you home with me.”
“I am home.”
“Like hell you are! This is where you grew up, Tate. It isn’t your home. Your home is with me and our child.”
Tate felt her heart racing with excitement and with hope. Adam’s words now were a far cry from what she had heard a mere forty-eight hours ago. It appeared he intended to be a father to the baby after all.
Before Adam could say more, the kitchen door opened and Tate remembered she had told her brothers to come to the house early for lunch because she wanted to take a long afternoon nap. She quailed at the confrontation she knew was coming.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Garth demanded.
“I’ve come for my wife.”
“Tate’s not going anywhere,” Garth said.
Adam wasn’t about to be said nay. He grabbed Tate by the wrist. “Forget your things,” he said. “We can get them later.” He dragged her two steps, but could go no farther.
Faron and Garth were blocking the way out.
“Get out of my way,” Adam said.
“Look, Adam,” Faron began in a reasonable voice. “If you’ll just—”
But Adam was in no mood to be reasonable. He twisted around to shove Tate out of the way, then reversed the arc with his fist. Faron was felled by the powerful blow, which caught him completely unprepared to defend himself.
Adam stood spread-legged, facing Tate’s eldest brother. “I’m telling you to get out of my way.”
“You’re welcome to leave,” Garth said. “But Tate stays here.”
“I’m taking her with me.”
“That remains to be seen.”
Tate knew her brother’s strength. He had at least three inches of height and thirty more pounds of muscle than Adam. “Garth, please don’t—”
“Shut up, Tate,” Adam ordered. “I can handle this on my own.” He was fighting for his life—the right to cherish his wife and raise his child—and he had no intention of losing.
The fight that followed was vicious, but mercifully short. When it was finished, Adam was still standing, but it was a near thing. He grabbed Tate’s wrist and helped her step over Garth’s body on the way out, letting the screen door slam behind her.
Once Tate and Adam were gone, the two brothers, still sprawled on the floor where Adam had left them, had trouble meeting each other’s eyes. Two against one and they were the ones dusting themselves off.
G
arth cradled his ribs as he sat up and leaned back against the kitchen cupboards. He pulled his shirttail out and pressed the cloth against a cut over his cheekbone.
Faron stretched his legs out in front of him as he leaned back against the refrigerator. He rubbed his sore chin, then opened his mouth and moved his jaw around to make sure no bones were broken.
“Guess our little sister is married to a man who loves her after all,” Faron said.
“One with a damned fine right hook,” Garth agreed, dabbing gently with his shirttail at the bruised skin around his eye.
The two brothers looked at each other and grinned. Garth yelped when his split lip protested.
“Guess that’s one suitor you couldn’t scare off,” Faron said.
“I always said Tate would know the right man when he came along.”
“Seems you were the one needed convincing,” Faron said, eyeing Garth’s battered face.
Garth guffawed, then moaned when his head protested. “By the way, who do you think’s going to be godfather to that baby of hers?”
“Me,” Faron said, hauling himself off the floor. “You get to be godfather to Jesse’s firstborn.”
“Jesse’s next oldest. It ought to be him.”
“Jesse and Adam don’t get along. I’m a better choice,” Faron said.
The two brothers headed out to the barn, arguing all the way. Neither of them mentioned the fact that they had been relegated to a new role in Tate’s life. Their little sister had found a new protector.
Meanwhile, Tate was aware of every move Adam made, every word he spoke. She had him stop at the first gas station they came to with the excuse she had to use the bathroom. She used the opportunity to clean the blood off his face and bought some bandages in the convenience store to put across the cuts on his cheek and chin.
Once they were back in the car, she said, “You were wonderful, you know. I don’t think anybody’s ever beaten my brother Garth in a fight.”
“I had more at stake than he did,” Adam mumbled through his split lips.
Tate’s spirits soared at this further evidence that Adam’s attitude toward both her and the baby had somehow changed.
It was a long ride back home to the Lazy S, broken frequently by stops to allow Tate to use rest room facilities.
“It’s the baby,” she explained.
“I know about these things,” Adam replied with an understanding smile. “I’m a doctor, remember?”
It was dark by the time they arrived back at the Lazy S. Maria greeted them both at the door with a big hug.
“It is so good to see you back where you belong, señora!”
In Spanish she said to Adam, “I see you have put the smile back on her face. You will tell her now you love her, yes?”
“When the time is right,” Adam said.
Maria frowned. “The time, she is right now.”
Adam refused to be pressed. He excused himself and ushered Tate to his bedroom. He lifted her into his arms and carried her across the threshold.
“Our marriage begins now,” he said, looking into her eyes. “The past is past.”
Tate could hardly believe this was happening. “I love you, Adam.”
She waited for the words she knew he would say back to her. But they didn’t come.
There was nothing very difficult about saying those three little words, but Adam felt too vulnerable at the moment to admit the depth of his feelings for Tate. He hadn’t really given her a choice about coming back with him. It seemed more appropriate to show her that he loved her, rather than to tell her so in words.
He made love to her as though she were the most precious being in the world. He kissed her gently, indifferent to his split lip, tasting her as though he had never done so before, teasing her with his teeth and tongue. Her soft whimper of pleasure rolled through him, tightening his body with need.
His hand slid down to her rounded belly. “My child,” he whispered in her ear. “Our child.”
“Yes. Yes, our child,” Tate agreed, glad that he was ready to accept the baby as his own.
“I mean, I know it’s mine,” Adam said.
Tate was jerked abruptly from her euphoria. “What?” She turned to face him, her eyes still wide and dilated with pleasure. “What did you say?”
Adam’s thumb caressed her belly as his eyes met hers. “I went back to that doctor in San Antonio. The one who did the fertility tests on Anne and me. I’m not sterile, Tate. Anne lied to me.”
Tate’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what this meant. No wonder Adam hadn’t said he loved her. He hadn’t come to Hawk’s Way for her at all. He hadn’t fought Garth for the purpose of getting her back. He had fought to get back his child!
CHAPTER 12
TATE PLEADED FATIGUE FROM her pregnancy as an excuse not to make love to Adam, and the damned man fell all over himself being understanding. Naturally he wanted to make sure she took good care of herself so his child would be born healthy!
But the next morning, when Adam stood blocking her way into the office—because she shouldn’t have to work in her delicate condition—Tate let him have it with both barrels.
“I’m just as capable of working with your child growing inside me as I was when it was just my child!” she snapped.
“But—”
“No buts! I’ll eat right, get enough rest and come through this pregnancy with flying colors. Even if it is partly your child growing inside me and not just mine.”
Adam wasn’t sure what he had done wrong, but Tate obviously had a bee in her bonnet about something. “What’s all this your child and my child business? What happened to our child?”
“That was before you found out you can father as many children as you want. Well, you can go father some other fool woman’s kids. This baby’s mine!”
With that, she shoved him out of the office and slammed the door in his face.
Adam could hear her crying on the other side of the door. He tried the handle and found it was locked. He pounded on the door. “Tate, let me in!”
“I don’t want to talk to you. Go away!”
He pounded on the door again. “If you don’t open this door, I’m going to break it down,” he threatened.
He had just turned his shoulder toward the door when it opened, and he nearly fell inside. “That’s better,” he said, walking in and shutting the door behind him. “I think maybe we better talk about this…difference of opinion. What’s important—”
“I’m not a baby that needs coddling. I’m fully capable of taking care of myself. You have to trust me to—oh, what’s the use?” she said, throwing up her hands in disgust. “Trust was never a part of our relationship in the past. I don’t suppose that just because you’ve found out I didn’t lie to you about the baby, it’s going to change anything between us.”
“What does trust have to do with this?”
“Everything!” Tate was quivering she was so upset. “Buck and Velma—”
“Whoa there! What do Buck and Velma have to do with this?” Adam was getting more confused by the minute.
“It doesn’t matter,” Tate said.
Adam grabbed her by the shoulders. “It obviously does matter. Now I want an explanation and I want it now!”
“You sure about that? Food for thought gives some folks indigestion!”
Adam shoved Tate down in the swivel chair and settled his hip on the desk in front of her. “Settle down now. This kind of agitation isn’t good for the baby. I—”
Tate leaped out of the chair and poked a finger at Adam’s chest. “The baby! The baby!” she mimicked back at him. “That’s all you really care about, isn’t it? I’m nothing more than a vessel for your seed. I could be a test tube for all the difference it would make to you! Well, I’ve got news for you, buster! I want more than a father for my child, I want a husband to love me and hold me and—” Tate choked back a sob.
“Tate, I do love—”
“Don’t say it! If you
really loved me, you’ve had plenty of opportunities to say so. If you say it now I’ll know you’re just doing it to calm me down for the sake of the baby.”
“I’m telling the truth!”
“So was I! When I told you months ago that this baby was yours and mine—ours! But you didn’t trust me then. And I don’t believe you now! Just like Buck and Velma—”
“Are we back to them again?”
“Yes-s-s!” she hissed. “Because Buck and Velma are a perfect example of what happens when there’s no trust in a relationship. You hurt each other, and you’re miserable and unhappy together.
“If you love somebody you have to be willing to trust them enough to be honest with them. To lay yourself open to the pain of rejection by admitting how you really feel about them. And you have to trust in their love enough to know that they would never do anything purposely to hurt you. Like lying to you. Or sleeping with another man.
“Without trust, love will just wither and die.” Tate swallowed another sob and said, “Like it did with Buck and Velma.”
“Are you finished?” Adam asked.
Tate sniffled and wiped her nose with the hem of her T-shirt. “I’m finished.”
“First of all, I think you should know that Buck and Velma got remarried on Sunday.”
Tate’s eyes went wide. “They did?”
“Second of all, whether you believe me or not, I do love you. I’ve loved you for a long time. I never said anything because…”
“Because you didn’t trust me,” Tate finished in a small voice.
He couldn’t deny it, because it was true. “I guess it’s my turn to point to Buck and Velma,” Adam said ruefully.
“Why?”
“Aren’t they proof that people can change? That mistakes aren’t irrevocable?”
Tate’s brow furrowed. “I suppose.”
“Then will you give me a chance to prove how I feel? To prove that I do love you enough to trust you with my heart?”
Tate felt her throat swelling closed with emotion. “I suppose.”
“Come here.” Adam opened his arms and Tate walked into them. He tipped her chin up and looked deep into her eyes. “We start from here. Our baby, our marriage—”
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