Tess gave his arm a little squeeze and moved her hand away.
He wished she’d left it there. He missed her touch. Sure, they’d gotten together for sex, but she communicated warmth with her touch and the pleasure of human contact. Maybe that was why he hadn’t dated anyone since that weekend in April. She’d been special and he’d wanted to savor the memories for a while.
She took a deep breath and let it out. “Is that why you didn’t want to get married and have children? You were afraid your father’s depression would be passed on?”
“My dad always said you couldn’t count on anybody and in the end I couldn’t even count on him. I haven’t wanted anyone depending on me, either.”
“How’s that worked out for you?”
“Great.”
“See? Getting involved with this baby would be a huge mistake. Obviously my life will change and I look forward to it. Yours doesn’t have to.”
“It already has, Tess. This afternoon I was mentally rehearsing what I’d say when he’s ready for the talk.”
“You’re kidding, right? Although I can see why that topic would be on your mind.”
“I’m not kidding.”
“Huh.” She seemed taken aback. “Then I’m way behind you. I’m still researching when to introduce peanut butter.”
“You mean so he has less chance of developing an allergy?”
“How did you know?”
“Phil and Damon. They talk about baby stuff all the time. Until now, I didn’t pay much attention. Now I will.” He also made a mental note that a woman who’d research whether to give a baby peanut butter wasn’t likely to walk off and leave the kid.
He should dial back the paranoia, like Damon had said. He should, but he hadn’t. He needed to spend more time with her before he’d be convinced. Folding her recommended reading list in fourths, he tucked it in the front pocket of his jeans. “It’s possible Phil and Damon have some of these they could loan me, but whether they do or not, I’ll get them read.”
“Okay.”
Something about the way she said it alerted him to the truth. The books were a test—one she didn’t expect him to pass. She figured he’d never make it through her long list. She wanted him to fail at this father thing.
That stuck in his craw. “You know what? There’s still time for me to drive into town and see what books I can pick up. Were you serious about heading home? Because that’s fine with—” A low growl of thunder grabbed his attention as rain began to patter on the roof. For the first time since they’d sat on the porch, he noticed his surroundings.
Sheets of rain obscured the mountains and a rising wind swept the downpour onto the porch. Damn it. He’d been so involved in the conversation he’d lost track of the weather.
She picked up her purse and stood. “I’ll make a run for it.”
“No.”
“It just started. If I leave right now I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t trust that road. It gets bad fast.”
“Then I need to hurry.” She started toward the steps.
“Tess, no.” He caught her arm and pulled her back. “My truck would probably make it, but if I drive you to Thunder Mountain your car will still be here, which will be a nuisance for you. Let’s just wait it out.” He decided to maintain his hold on her arm until he’d convinced her not to leave the shelter of the porch.
She looked from him to the heavy curtains of rain.
“Take my word for it.” He held her gaze. “The chances are very good that you’ll get stuck in the mud out there. Then I’ll have to come and pull you out, which wouldn’t be a whole lot of fun for either of us.”
Her shoulders relaxed and she let out a breath. “You’re right. It’s just that I got the distinct impression you wanted me to leave.”
“I did until it started raining in biblical proportions.”
She glanced down at his hand on her arm. “Well, I promise not to take off, so you can let go of me.”
He released her. “It might be a quick storm. If the sun comes out right after, the road will dry in no time.” The steady pounding on the roof didn’t sound like the rain was about to let up, but anything was possible.
“May I ask why you’re so eager to get rid of me all of a sudden?”
“Sure.” He pulled the list out of his pocket and waved it in front of her. “Do you really want me to read all these?”
“Of course. Why else would I make up the list?”
“To give me a job you don’t expect me to finish. There’s a chance I’m not into reading. Some guys, maybe even a lot of guys, aren’t. So if I don’t complete this list, you can say I’m not dedicated enough to being a father to our kid.” He’d guessed right. He could see it in the pink flush of her cheeks and her uneasy glance.
She cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “Raising a child takes knowledge, hard work and dedication.”
So prim and proper. Motherhood had given her a glow he found irresistible, but it had made her a tad self-righteous. He recalled the generous nature of the woman he’d known in April and wondered if that woman was still in there. “You’ve seen me perform in the arena. How do you suppose I reached that level of expertise?”
“Point taken, but you love to rope. I have serious doubts that you’ll love being a father. If you can’t make it through these books, then it’s possible being a parent isn’t your thing.”
He could tell she was hoping he’d bomb out because she wanted the job all to herself. She could guarantee parenting would be done the way she wanted it. They were so alike that it almost made him smile, except he was still irritated with her. “It’s also possible that the books are dry as dust, or that I learn better through doing something other than reading. As a teacher, I’m sure you understand there are different styles of learning.”
“I do.” She squared her shoulders.
“That said, I intend to finish every title you suggested. Now let’s go inside and make some coffee. It’s cold and wet out here.” He walked to the door, opened it and touched the tips of his fingers to the brim of his hat. “After you, ma’am.”
Chapter Eight
They’d no sooner walked into Matt’s house than Rosie called Zeke’s cell phone. Tess watched his face light up as he talked to her. “Yes, ma’am, she’s still here. No, ma’am, I won’t let her drive back unless it’s safe.” He listened some more. “I do, as a matter of fact. Can you describe again how you make it?”
Tess figured out he was getting some cooking instructions. Dinnertime wasn’t far away and, sure enough, her stomach was reminding her of it. But Zeke didn’t have to cook for her. Maybe he had some snacks that would take the edge off her hunger until she could drive back to Thunder Mountain. She walked over and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Just a sec,” he told his foster mom. “Tess is trying to get my attention.” He turned to her. “What’s up?”
“You don’t need to fix me dinner.”
“Because you’re going to fix me dinner instead?” There was a twinkle in his eyes.
“Well, I hadn’t—”
“We both need to eat and I’m pretty sure I have all the ingredients for Rosie’s meat loaf. Let me get the details and we can make it together.”
This was sounding much cozier than she’d intended but she was suddenly starving. She might ask about snacks, after all, because the meat loaf would take a while. “I’ll grab the chairs from the porch.”
“Just leave them. I’ll bring them in later.”
She ignored him and went to fetch the chairs. She didn’t feel like standing around doing nothing, especially because he looked so darned appealing talking to his foster mom. She didn’t want to be charmed.
Telling Zeke about her pregnancy had seemed noble and relatively simple until
she’d actually done it. Once or twice since coming here she’d wished she’d kept her mouth shut. But then she wouldn’t have met his foster family.
As she set the chairs up at the card table in the kitchen, she compared the Zeke Rafferty who’d occupied her thoughts for months with the one she was coming to know now. Making love to someone so unfettered had been liberating, but it hadn’t inspired her to change her life.
Afterward she’d returned to the house that she’d been awarded in the divorce. She’d continued teaching small children at a private school. In June she’d spent her obligatory two weeks with her parents in Laramie.
This pregnancy had revived her dream of having a family, but she’d pictured it as a family of two. She’d never imagined sharing this baby with a footloose cowboy who performed rope tricks on the rodeo circuit and likely owned nothing but his truck, his roping equipment and his wardrobe. She’d assumed that he wouldn’t want anything to do with parenting. Given the carefree lifestyle he cherished, it made no sense that he’d reverse direction and dig in his heels.
But he had. She wondered if it had anything to do with his foster family. Ordinarily he’d be traveling on the circuit and having minimal contact with them. But he’d been injured. Without that setback, would he be the caretaker of his foster brother’s ranch, the babysitter for another foster brother’s daughter and a guy eager to make meat loaf?
Although she might be seeing a different Zeke Rafferty now, the one she’d first met could appear the minute his shoulder was healed. He firmly believed that he’d changed because of the imminent birth of his son and she didn’t buy it.
How could she possibly challenge his conclusion, though, when his behavior with Sophie and his offer to fix dinner made him seem so domestic? Even worse, if she wanted to be part of this foster family, both for her benefit and that of her son, she should remember that Zeke was a part of it, too. And they were fiercely loyal to each other.
He began wrapping up his phone call. “Yes, ma’am, three-fifty for an hour. Thanks. And if the weather stays nasty, I’ll bring Tess home in my truck. We can always work out the logistics of retrieving her car. Right. Have a great evening.” He ended the call and turned to her. “Rosie says that if you haven’t eaten since lunch, you’re probably starving because pregnant ladies are hungry all the time. Are you starving?”
“I’m pretty hungry.”
“Then we’ll make some snacks before we start on the meat loaf.” He put his phone on the counter and opened the refrigerator. “Do you like cheddar cheese?”
“Adore it.”
“Me, too.” He took a package out of the refrigerator door and reached for the cutting board leaning against the backsplash. “There’s a box of crackers in the cupboard by the stove. Oh, and I have a jar of black olives.” He opened the refrigerator again and took them out. “Want some?”
“You bet. Hand them over.”
He gave her the jar. “If you want a bowl to put them in, dishes are in the top cupboard, far right.”
“Got it.” She put the olives in a bowl and carried it to the table along with the crackers. She held up the box. “Mind if I go ahead and open these?”
“By all means.” He finished slicing the cheese and put the cutting board next to her on the table. “Start eating. I’m going to open a beer, but I know you can’t have that. I have some root beer, though.”
“Sounds great.”
He came back with two bottles and twisted the cap from hers before giving it to her. “Wind’s whipping up pretty good out there.”
“Guess it is.” She’s been so intent on their snack that she hadn’t paid attention, but now she could hear it gusting through the trees surrounding the house.
“Could be a good sign. Sometimes a strong wind will blow the storm somewhere else.” He sat across from her and when he stretched out his long legs, they bumped hers. “Sorry.”
“No worries. It’s a small table.” She tried to keep from nudging his denim-covered legs but finally gave up the effort. After all, it wasn’t as if they’d never been in close proximity. They’d spent hours with their legs tangled together.
“Matt’s ordered a table and chairs.” He twisted the cap on his beer and took a sip. “But he doesn’t want to buy a lot of furniture while Damon and Phil are still working. It’ll only get in the way.”
“Understandable.” She reached for more cheese and crackers. “Excellent snacks, by the way. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad Rosie clued me in. Would you have said anything?”
“Probably. Being pregnant has made me more assertive about asking for what I want.”
“That’s good.” He tossed an olive in the air and caught it in his mouth.
She’d forgotten that she’d seen him do something similar before. “I guess you don’t limit yourself to popcorn for that stunt.”
“Nope. It fosters hand-eye coordination, and I need all the extra practice I can get these days.” He winked at her. “It also impresses the ladies.”
“Trust me, it wasn’t the popcorn trick that reeled me in.”
“Then what did?”
“I’m not telling.” She built herself a double-decker mini sandwich of crackers and cheese and managed to eat it without making a huge mess.
“One thing I remember about you from April is that you didn’t eat a lot. That old saying about eating for two must be right.”
“Now it is. For the first two and a half months I had no appetite and was often sick to my stomach.”
His hazel eyes filled with concern. “That sounds awful.”
“If I’d figured out I was pregnant, it wouldn’t have been so bad. Morning sickness is common in the first few months. But I knew I couldn’t be pregnant. I tried so hard to conceive when I was married and nothing ever worked, so I couldn’t imagine that a couple of nights with you—using condoms, no less—would succeed when so many methods had failed.”
“I’m still in awe of that. I’d love to claim that it’s all because of my superior swimmers, but I think it could just as easily be the phases of the moon.”
“Or the phases of my cycle. I went back and checked and that would have been my most fertile time.”
“You keep track?” He took a swallow of his beer.
“It’s an old habit I can’t seem to break. When I was married we both kept track. Jared was determined to have kids.”
“Huh.”
“You probably can’t imagine that.” She popped another olive in her mouth. She was tempted to try his trick but decided it was more important to get that thing into her than to play games. The hunger pangs were gradually receding.
He leaned back in his chair and tipped his hat away from his forehead. “You’re right. I can’t imagine being determined to have kids. I realize some couples really want them, but your ex sounds a bit obsessed with the idea.”
“I guess he was. When we got tested and found out I had little chance of getting pregnant, I suggested adoption. He wouldn’t hear of it. My gynecologist had mentioned an experimental and somewhat risky surgery that might fix the problem. Jared wanted me to do it. When I refused, he filed for divorce.”
“That sucks.”
“It did at the time.” She used to think her life was over and she’d wept buckets, but this baby made up for everything. “In the end he did me a favor.”
“And me.”
She glanced at him in surprise. “How can you say that? If this hadn’t happened, you could have continued living the way you’d always planned. In fact, I’ve been trying to convince you that’s still possible.”
“And I’ve been trying to convince you it’s not.” The card table was small and when he leaned across it he was very close. “When you told me that you were pregnant with our son, I spent the rest of the night thinking. I ask
ed myself if I regretted being with you in Texas considering the outcome. Well, I don’t.” His gaze darkened. “You were incredible, Tess. Warm, responsive...lovely.”
She should break eye contact. That look, that simmering intensity, had been her kryptonite back in April. Still was now. Her heart pounded as a different kind of hunger, one that had nothing to do with food, begged for satisfaction.
His soft voice wove a seductive spell as he gently stroked her arm. “I don’t regret that we made a baby, either. But I think you have regrets.”
“No.” Her vocal cords felt tight. “I want this child.”
“I know you want him. But you don’t want me.”
Crazy laughter threatened to bubble up. She’d never wanted any man more than she wanted Zeke at this very moment.
He covered her hand with his and held her gaze. “But be forewarned. I’m not going anywhere.” Then he gave her hand a squeeze and pushed away from the table. “Time to make meat loaf.”
She took a steadying breath. She’d almost expected him to invite her into his bedroom. God help her, she would have gone, and that would have sent a terrible message. She couldn’t agree to sex and yet refuse his help with parenting their son.
While he got out a bowl to mix in the ingredients and a pan for the meat loaf, she closed up the box of crackers and carried the cutting board and the empty olive bowl over to the sink.
“Something almost happened just now.” He crumbled hamburger into the bowl.
“It did?”
“You know it did.” He kept his gaze on the bowl as he shredded two slices of bread into it.
“I suppose so.” She watched him tear up the bread. He had great hands and long, nimble fingers. Those hands could work magic with a rope and they could work magic on a woman’s body.
“I said you’d be in charge of it.”
“I know.”
“I almost didn’t let you have the decision. I was seconds away from making a move.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“A couple of reasons.” He glanced over at her. “Does slicing onions bother you?”
Say Yes to the Cowboy Page 7