by Unknown
“You have beautiful manners, Susannah.”
His non sequitur puzzled her. She looked at Abby and the doctor to see if they understood his meaning, but they looked as nonplussed as she felt.
“I bet your mother was from the South.”
She nodded hesitantly, then said, “From Texas.”
“Ah. But your parents are both dead, aren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“No extended family, cousins, aunts and uncles?”
Growing more and more uneasy, Susannah shook her head, confirming his words.
He leaned forward, staring at her intently, “What will happen to your baby if you fall ill? Or, God forbid, die in a car wreck?”
She closed her eyes even as she heard Abby gasp. She wanted to hide the pain that filled her.
“Lucas Boyd, shame on you!” Abby protested.
Even the doctor protested. “That’s hard, Lucas.”
“No, it’s the truth. While Susannah may not need my wealth, my home, her baby does. If he’s my son, I’ll be there for him if she can’t. And she knows I’ll love him. If something happens to me, she’ll have the financial means to carry on. But—” he paused, but Susannah didn’t open her eyes “—if she has her child alone, he could end up in a foster home, if something should happen to her.”
She prayed she’d open her eyes and discover she’d been having a bad dream. That she was home in her solitary bed. That she’d never met Lucas Boyd.
“Is that what you want, Susannah?”
That low, almost whispered question echoed in her heart. She opened her eyes and stared at her tormentor. Her bottom lip trembled as she tried to speak, to respond to his question.
She couldn’t.
“Oh, my poor dear,” Abby moaned and leaped up to come around the table to her side.
“Boy, I think you may have gone too far,” Dr. Grable protested, standing also.
Lucas remained seated. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Susannah. I just wanted to make you think about what’s best for the baby. Our baby.”
Chills coursed through her body. She wanted to get up and race out of his house, away from his words. But she didn’t think her legs would hold her.
Finally she composed herself enough to whisper to Abby, “I want to go home.”
“Of course you do, dear. Come on. We’ll get away from these nasty men,” Abby agreed, taking Susannah’s arm to help her up.
“Hey, I didn’t do anything,” Dr. Grable protested.
Now Lucas stood. “You promised you’d answer my question tonight,” he reminded her, again drawing Abby’s ire.
“Haven’t you done enough?” Abby demanded. “The poor girl is shaking like a leaf.”
“Please, Abby, let’s just go,” Susannah insisted as she tried to pull herself together. “My answer—”
“Never mind,” the cowboy abruptly said, cutting her off. “Think about what I said. Tell me tomorrow.”
She wanted to scream no at him. But she couldn’t. The reason his question had shaken her so was that he’d found her Achilles’ heel. He’d struck at the one weakness to her plan.
If she had a child, it would be totally dependent on her.
So now she was faced with her selfishness, or giving up her hope of having a child.
Or marrying Lucas Boyd.
Lucas felt like a wolf that had savaged an innocent lamb. The stricken look on Susannah’s face as she’d hurried from his house, quite possibly from his life, would stay with him for a long time.
His secret weapon had certainly shaken her, he admitted as he paced the bedroom floor. He’d been right. He’d discovered her weakness. After he’d seen her tender heart, seeing how much she worried about hurting even him, he’d known she would never be able to deny her child.
But he’d found himself shaken, too. The urge to beat Abby to her side, to sweep her into his arms and promise never to hurt her again, had almost paralyzed him.
It was because he’d felt responsible. Felt, hell! He was responsible. His daddy had always taught him to protect women, to care for them. Instead he’d hurt her.
That was the only reason he’d reacted so powerfully. He’d done something his daddy wouldn’t have approved of. It had nothing to do with Susannah.
But he’d repeat it a thousand times if it would bring him his son.
He paced across the room again.
For Colorado in the fall, it was a mild night. But Susannah shivered beneath the blankets on her bed.
Lucas Boyd had forced her to face facts. Her child, if she had a child by artificial insemination, would be totally dependent on her. If something happened to her, the baby would go into foster care, as Lucas had said.
Could she take that risk? Could she selfishly give life to a child so she wouldn’t be alone, knowing that if she died, the child would face the same difficulty?
But could she give up her unborn child?
She rubbed her hand over her flat stomach as if a child were already growing there. She’d longed for this child, prayed for it, planned for its care. Loved it.
Tossing and turning, she debated her options until early in the frosty morning. Finally she fell asleep without coming to a decision.
But when she woke, the questions were waiting, lurking in the shadows. What would she choose?
“Dang it! What’s wrong with you today?” Frankie asked as his boss paced through the kitchen for the fourth time that morning. “I kin hardly make one pass with the mop before you muddy the floor again.”
“What?” Lucas asked, staring at Frankie with a bewildered look on his face.
“Never mind. Just get along.”
Lucas rubbed his forehead, unsure where he was heading when Frankie interrupted him. He couldn’t concentrate on anything this morning…other than Susannah’s decision. He’d stopped her last night because he thought she needed time for his argument to sink in.
But he didn’t understand why. He was offering her everything she could want.
Except himself.
And she had no more interest in that kind of relationship than he did. If she did, she wouldn’t be considering a test tube in Denver.
The phone rang and he almost leaped across the kitchen to the extension on the wall. “Hello?”
“Luke? This is Mike. I noticed some fencing down on your western boundary, just below Culligan’s Pass. Thought you’d want to know.”
“Oh. Thanks, Mike. I’ll send a couple of the boys over right away.” His heart rate settled back to normal.
“Maybe you should go, yourself,” Frankie suggested, as Lucas got off the phone.
Lucas frowned at him. “Me? Why?”
“To get you out of my kitchen,” Frankie said with exasperation, leaning on his mop.
“I’m going to town,” Lucas abruptly said. He’d borne the suspense long enough.
“You comin’ back for lunch?”
“No.” If Susannah agreed, he’d take her to lunch. If not…well, he wouldn’t have an appetite.
“Yes, I understand. I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Susannah said with a shaky voice. She put down the receiver and covered her face with trembling fingers.
“What inconvenience?”
Her head whipped up, and she stared at Lucas Boyd, who was leaning against the doorjamb to her small office. She’d hoped for some time to compose herself before she had to face him. Time to let her raw emotions retreat, find protective cover.
“What inconvenience?” he asked again, staring at her with passionate eyes.
“My canceling the appointment with the sperm bank.” She didn’t offer any explanation.
A spark of hope fired up in his gaze. “Because?”
No patient waiting on his part. Lucas Boyd wanted his trophy at once.
“Because I realized you were right. I couldn’t have a child alone, with no safety net in case—no one to care for my child.”
He left the doorjamb and sauntered closer. She knew it was her imagin
ation at fault, but his movement seemed like that of an animal closing in for the kill.
“I’d make a great safety net, Susannah.”
Her chin lifted. She wanted to deny his words, to tell him she’d found another way. A way that wouldn’t involve putting her heart, her soul, at risk.
But she hadn’t.
Slowly she looked down at the pile of papers on her desk. “I know.”
He stepped closer and lifted her chin with his big, callused hand. “Tell me, Susannah. Spell it out plain and clear. Are you going to marry me, have my baby?”
Moisture filled her eyes, but she wasn’t a coward. Meeting his stare, she nodded.
His reaction only underlined their future together. He released her chin as if she’d burned his fingers, and he took a step backward.
“Have you changed your mind?” she asked, her voice shaking. Was she failing again at a relationship before it had even begun? Had he already realized she wasn’t…wasn’t good with the physical side of love?
“No!” he protested hoarsely. “No, I haven’t changed my mind. But I’ve been afraid I couldn’t convince you. It’s just taking me a little time to figure out that I’ve won.”
“Won? You make it sound like a game, a challenge. We’re talking about a life, a—a child.”
“I know that! Damn it, I know that better than anyone. I stood there and watched my baby boy die,” he shouted, suddenly pacing her little office. “Don’t try to tell me what we’re talking about!”
The deep breath Susannah drew shuddered its way through her. Had she made a mistake? Could she handle close quarters with this man, with his past, his pain, his memories?
“Sorry,” he apologized even as she worried. “I—I’m thrilled with your decision, Susannah. But it’s a lot to adjust to. Even though we talked about it before, it—it seems more real now.”
“You can still change your mind.”
A smile slowly grew on his firm lips, reaching his eyes. “No, sweetheart. I’m not going to change my mind. I’m going to be a daddy. I couldn’t be happier.”
She looked away. Too much exposure to his happiness would damage her heart for sure.
“Come on. Let me take you to lunch to celebrate,” he said, moving toward her again.
She pressed against the back of her chair. “But everyone would see us.”
“That’s okay. We’re going to be married. They might as well get used to the idea.” Without leaving her any choice in the matter, he seized her hand and pulled her from her chair. “Hurry up. Suddenly I’m starving.”
Susannah spent her energy trying to get her feet underneath her before she fell on her face. Which made it impossible to protest his action until they were out the door and in the main room of the library.
“Lucas, please—”
“You don’t want to go eat?” he asked, frowning, coming to an abrupt halt.
“It’s not…Lunch isn’t necessary.”
One eyebrow slid up over his sparkling eyes. “Sweetheart, it’s sure necessary where I come from. Don’t you eat?”
“I mean you don’t have to buy me lunch.”
He blinked at her, as if he didn’t understand her words. Then, a trifle grimly, he muttered, “I think the occasion warrants it.”
Without any more conversation, he led her across the street to The Red Slipper.
She didn’t want to go in, but with Lucas’s hand gripping her arm, Susannah didn’t think she had a choice. It seemed to her, as they stepped through the door, that the entire room grew still, silent, watching.
Her cheeks heated up and she discovered a strange urge to hide her face against Luke’s strong shoulder. Great! Nothing would confirm the gossip faster.
Lucas seemed at ease. “Morning, Molly. We need a table for two.”
The hostess grinned. “You cuttin’ down, Luke? Last time you had three ladies waiting for you.”
“Yeah, I’m cutting down. Permanently.” He added a big grin, and conversation picked up at once, everyone abuzz with this latest tidbit of gossip.
“Lucas!” Susannah protested hoarsely.
He buried his nose in her hair and whispered, “You can’t keep secrets in this town. And I won’t have anyone thinking I’m ashamed of my baby’s mother.”
Stunned, unable to move as fast to acceptance as he, Susannah stared.
“Sit down,” he said gently, as if realizing her difficulty.
She flopped into a chair, aware of Molly’s stare. When the hostess handed her the menu, she buried her face behind it.
“Enjoy your meal.”
“We will,” Lucas said.
Susannah peeped over the top of her menu to find him smiling. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
He settled in his chair before he answered. The smile left his face and he shrugged. “We’re both going to achieve our dream. What’s not to enjoy?”
With a jerky nod of agreement, she returned to the menu. When the waitress arrived at their table, an old friend of Lucas’s, of course, Susannah was able to order her lunch without stumbling.
Maybe she could get through this…this arrangement. What was important was the baby, her child.
Their child.
“Lucas, you do realize the baby could be a girl, don’t you?” She’d meant to mention that possibility before now.
The grin returned to his face. “Not a chance. Boyds have boys.”
As if she were talking to herself, she said, “I was hoping for a girl.”
He reached across the table to take her hand. “Maybe we can have more than one. Surely there have been some girls somewhere in my family tree.”
She gasped, staring at him. How had he known? Had he realized how much she hated the idea of having an only child? Like herself? Or was it a lucky guess?
He seemed to recognize her surprise. “Sorry, Susannah. I know we haven’t talked about more children, but I’m not against the idea. Are you?”
“No.”
“So, we need to set the date. Can you be ready by next Saturday?”
Before she could answer, the waitress set their plates in front of them, giving Susannah a breathing space.
“Next Saturday?” she repeated after they were alone.
“Yeah. I’ll talk to the pastor, and we can get a license.”
“I thought we should wait until—until after I’m pregnant before we actually marry.”
Chapter Seven
L ucas shook his head, wondering if he’d heard correctly. What was wrong with the woman? He offered marriage and she suggested an affair?
“Why?”
She didn’t meet his gaze. “It makes sense. The purpose of our marriage is to have a child. If I can’t get pregnant, we’d both feel foolish, wouldn’t we?”
“Is there any reason you can’t get pregnant? Did Doc find something when he examined you?” He watched her closely, wondering what was going on.
“No. He said everything was fine.”
“Then we’ll go ahead and marry. I want my son conceived after the wedding, not before.” Feeling he’d settled the matter, he turned his attention to the food in front of him. Not that he was as calm as he hoped he looked. But he didn’t want Susannah to know about the jitters in his stomach.
She didn’t respond. When she picked up her fork to begin her meal also, he relaxed somewhat. Before she ate anything, however, she lowered her fork to her plate.
“Maybe you should go ahead and…and give Doc some, uh, some specimens. That way we can get the process started as soon as possible. I’ll—”
“I should do what?” His voice was low, almost guttural, but if he’d understood what she said, no one would blame him. He waited for her explanation.
“I know you said you wanted us to be married, but surely, a couple of days won’t—”
“What does Doc have to do with anything?”
That blasted bottom lip of hers was trembling. The urge to comfort, to touch, to kiss—nope, he didn’t really want t
o do those things. It was her distress, not her sex appeal, that moved him. Wasn’t it?
“Dr. Grable will perform the procedure.”
A coldness settled around his heart. Leaning forward, he said, “Lady, the only one performing will be me, and I promise you won’t call it a ‘procedure,’ like canning tomatoes, when we’re finished.”
He watched her cheeks flash fire and then go deathly pale. Clamping her lips tightly together, she didn’t say a word as she hurried from the table in the direction of the ladies’ room.
What in the hell was going on? She thought they’d marry and not have sex? Had he missed something here? Knowing he couldn’t enter the ladies’ room, he summoned the waitress to the table.
“Something wrong with the special?” she asked, looking at his plate.
“No, but Susannah left the table in a hurry. Would you check the rest room to see if she’s okay?”
“You think the food made her sick?”
“No, she hasn’t eaten anything. Just check on her for me.” Right after he’d spoken the words, Susannah reappeared. Both Lucas and the waitress watched her progress back to the table.
“You okay, hon?” the waitress asked, studying her.
“I’m fine.”
“Your boyfriend here thought you were sick. Maybe you’re pregnant,” she suggested with a chuckle.
Lucas glared at her and, if possible, Susannah turned even more pale.
As if suddenly realizing her teasing had gone awry, the waitress hurriedly apologized and dashed off to another table.
“Susannah, what’s going on here?”
“Nothing,” she whispered. Since she picked up her fork and took a bite of the meat loaf she’d ordered, Lucas ate, too, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
“Are you sure you’re healthy?”
Woodenly, without looking at him, she replied, “Do you want Dr. Grable to write out a certificate of health for me?”
“No, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s all right, Lucas. I understand what is at stake, what kind of commodity I’m offering. If I can’t produce a child, I realize—”
“Damn it! Stop it, Susannah. You make it sound like we’re bartering pigs for chickens, here.”