Daddy by Surprise

by Debra Salonen

  All the color drained from his mother’s still-youthful-looking face. Her reddish brown hair lacked even a hint of silver, thanks to her well-paid stylist. “Please tell me you’re joking. That’s exactly the kind of people who try to take advantage of the system. The boy who accused your father had been coached by his drug-addict parents. By the time he recanted his statement, it was too late. Both your father—and his practice—were devastated. Neither was ever the same again.”

  “I know, Mom. But Dad took shortcuts when he was doing pro bono work. He didn’t keep a nurse in the room with him. I assume that was because her wages would have been out-of-pocket.”

  He watched her face change. She didn’t deny the fact, which Jack had only guessed. He’d spent most of his drive home from the Hills trying to remember what little he knew about his father’s case. There had been a lot of whispers and closed-door conferences with lawyers and investigators. He’d felt his father’s shame, and even though Jack never wanted to admit it, he’d had moments of doubt. What if the reason his father didn’t have a nurse present was because he’d planned to do something unsavory all along?

  But somewhere around Cheyenne another thought had hit him. His trusting father would have tried to honor his own need to help children while conceding to his banker wife’s penny-pinching thriftiness.

  “Paying staff to fix the teeth of a child who would probably wind up doing drugs or rotting in jail like his father seemed a waste of good money,” his mother admitted. “I didn’t know how low some people would sink to take advantage of a kind soul. I just didn’t know.”

  Jack wondered how much his mother’s sense of guilt had shaped his later decisions, like specializing in adult orthodontics and never dating women with children.

  “Mom,” Jack said, touching her arm. “Nobody’s blaming you. Those were bad people. Dad didn’t deserve what happened, but there’s no changing the past and I’m tired of letting fear rule my life.”

  “Jackson, please don’t—”

  “I’m moving to an area that can’t support my tiny window of specialization, Mom. I need to get back into mainstream dentistry, and that means working with children.”

  “How’d you do it?” Rachel asked. “How’d you overcome your fear?”

  Jack looked at her. He heard something deeply personal in her question. He answered honestly, knowing full well neither Rachel nor Mom would understand. “I simply asked myself, ‘What would Mad Jack do?’”

  Rachel smiled as though she did get it.

  His mother let out a low moan. “But what about your beautiful house? The market is soft right now, Jackson. You’ll never get what it’s worth.”

  “I’ll make money on it no matter what, Mom. And I’m keeping the office building. My colleagues are delighted to continue with our present arrangement. Actually they were thrilled because my not being there means one more piece of the client pie.”

  He got up and walked around the table. “Mom, Sentinel Pass isn’t that far from Denver. I was talking to Kat’s friend Libby the other day. Her brother, Mac, makes the drive here about once a month for parts for his mining operation.”

  Rachel perked up. “Sentinel Pass? Isn’t that where the new television show is being filmed? Wow. That’s cool. Could you introduce me to a movie star?”

  He rolled his eyes. “The only one I met is married to Kat’s best friend, but who knows? You can visit me anytime. I’m thinking about building a guest cottage on the property once I finish remodeling the main house and put in a pool.”

  His mother moaned again. He knew she was thinking about the cost, but what she didn’t understand was he’d spend every cent he had to win the heart of the woman he loved.

  KAT HELD ON to the counter of Libby’s bathroom vanity with her free hand. Her knees felt as if they might give out. Probably because her heart was barely beating and she was breathing too fast and shallowly.

  How could this be? she asked herself for the hundredth time, staring at the little plastic wand of the home pregnancy test.

  A knock sounded on the door. “Well?” Libby hollered. “What’s the verdict? Yea or nay?”

  She’d used her mother as an excuse to leave Cooper’s big party early on Sunday to drive to Spearfish. A quick stop at the grocery store for ice cream had allowed her to pick up a testing kit. And later that night after visiting Mom, who brightened considerably seeing her grandsons, Kat had followed the directions to the letter.

  The result had left her baffled. Was there such a thing as a false negative? Could her kit have been old or defective? Maybe she’d tried too soon.

  She’d fretted about whether to call Jack, since she still felt pregnant, regardless of what the test said. When she’d finally called him, his reaction had only added to her confusion. How could anybody be that calm and understanding about something so life-altering? He had to be faking all that sweet concern for her state of mind.

  But why would he? She didn’t get it. Nothing about Jack made sense. Mad Jack she got. He was like all the other men in her life—take what you want and move on. But her Jack? He might be gone, but he rarely left her mind.

  And that had scared her more than she wanted to admit. If she wasn’t pregnant, then any connection she had with Jack would be lost.

  So what? A voice in her head had cried. But the answer wasn’t simple. It had grown in strength all week. And by the time Libby had shown up on the set an hour earlier, Kat had been sitting on the curb like a mindless zombie.

  Libby had managed to pry out the truth in a matter of seconds. Then, in a bossy but loving way, had insisted on purchasing a second test for Kat to take while the crew was on break. “You have to find out, Kat. It’s not fair to you or Jack to drag this out.”

  Kat opened the bathroom door. “It’s negative, too,” she said simply.

  Libby checked the plastic wand for herself, then nodded. “You’re right. It is. I guess that means you’re not pregnant. These things are pretty accurate, you know.”

  “But what about my symptoms? I never miss a period. Never. And my breasts are tender. And I’m queasy all the time—not just in the morning. How do you explain that?”

  Libby put her hand on Kat’s arm and gently pulled her into the hall. “Let’s have a glass of iced tea and talk.”

  Kat shook her head. “Shane wanted all the extras back on the set in half an hour.”

  “I’ll give you a written excuse,” Libby said dryly. “Besides, half an hour in Shane time could mean three hours on the clock.”

  They’d already discussed at length the crazy way a television production operated. Despite Shane’s passion for schedules, the actual filming seemed dependent on any one of a dozen variables—lighting, wind, the right electrical cords, hair and makeup. Kat wasn’t entirely convinced anything got done.

  Not that the result mattered to her. Getting paid to do nothing wasn’t such a bad thing. She’d managed to find an out-of-the-way corner to work on the last paper she had to turn in for her independent-study class. She’d chosen to write about frontier women in support roles that truly helped to settle the West. Women like Mad Jack’s schoolmarm in her dream.

  “Kat?”

  Kat startled, realizing she’d missed whatever Libby had been saying. “See? Look how ditzy I am. This is me pregnant, Lib. Seriously. Pete used to get so mad at me when he was talking to me and I’d space out.”

  Libby sat on the rocking chair she always chose when they had book club at her house. Kat perched on the edge of the sofa, restless and a little dazed. She wasn’t sure what this meant or what she should do next. Carry on with her life, she supposed. But what about Jack, who was supposedly moving to Sentinel Pass because he thought she was pregnant? She’d messed everything up. Worse than usual.

  “Pete has control issues. Forget Pete. Thanks to Jack, he’s finally living up to some of his parenting obligations, instead of blaming you every time Tag does something remotely wrong.”

  In the five days that Jack had been
gone, Tag had spent the majority of the time at Pete’s house. There was a certain amount of complaining on both parties’ part, but Kat was beginning to think Jack—who claimed to know nothing about kids—was more intuitive than she.

  “So? Do you want to talk about this false pregnancy?”

  “Not really. I feel stupid. And a little betrayed. I mean, I know my body. I can’t understand how I got this wrong. Maybe I should see a doctor. There might be something really wrong with me. My mom has cancer, you know.”

  Libby made a face. “Whoa. No quantum leaps allowed. You’re young and healthy. Your mother’s throat cancer was the result of a lifetime of bad habits. I think if you’d step back and take stock of your life at the moment, you’d see that any change in your body could be attributed to stress.”

  “When is my life not stressful, Lib?”

  “Good point. But it got more so when Jack showed up.”

  “Because of his swoo?”

  “Because you care for him. Actually I think you love him, but you won’t let yourself admit how you feel.”

  Kat shook her head. She fought the impulse to spring to her feet and start pacing. “I can’t love him, Libby. It wouldn’t be good for him. I’ve screwed up every romantic relationship I’ve ever been in. Jack just had his heart broken. He deserves someone more stable.” Like the schoolmarm in her dream.

  “Oh, I see. You’re not the person he could or should love, so at a deeply subconscious level your body convinces you you’re pregnant so he’ll marry you?”

  Kat stopped fidgeting. In a way, that made sense. But then she remembered. “I turned him down when he asked.”

  “But maybe a part of you is hoping he won’t take no for an answer. Maybe the part that still feels pregnant. Because you don’t believe anybody could love you and want to marry you without an ulterior motive.”

  “Like the threat of my dad’s shotgun.” Kat’s stomach turned over.

  Libby sat forward and pounded her fist on her knee. “We all have to deal with baggage from our past, Kat, but I’d wring your father’s neck if I had the chance. You’ve got to start believing that you’re not your mother. Or your father. You’re you, Kat. One of the nicest, most loving decent people in the world, and I’m sick of you being less than kind to yourself.”

  Kat couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s passionate outburst.

  Libby sighed heavily but smiled, too. “Kat. Why wouldn’t Jack love you? He’s smart, and he knows you’re exactly what he needs. Why can’t you see that?”

  Kat pictured herself huddled in the backseat of her mother’s car—fingers pushed deep in her ears to block the hurtful words of her parents’ shouting matches. How could two people who claimed to be so much in love they didn’t even stop to think about birth control wind up hating each other—and the child they made—so much?

  She stood. “I need to talk to my dad.”

  She would have preferred to pose her question to her mother, but her last visit had confirmed Kat’s suspicion that her sweet but nosy aunt didn’t take a hint well. There was no such thing as privacy with Roberta around.

  “What about the boys?”

  Kat slapped her brow with the heel of her hand. “Another brain fart, as Jordie would say. Michelle was supposed to drop Tag off at the Y today to hang out with Jordie after his summer art program. I’ll pick them both up on my way to the ranch.”

  “I could watch them if you want to talk to your dad alone.” Libby smiled that loving, happy smile she always got on her face when thinking about her husband. “Cooper loves playing daddy. He won’t admit it, but I think he really, really wants a boy.” She put her hand on her rounded belly.

  “Thanks, Lib. I appreciate the offer—and everything else, too. But the boys have been bugging me about seeing the bison. They can take the four-wheeler out and do a head count while Dad and I talk.”

  Not that she was expecting any huge breakthroughs. Her father wasn’t all that self-aware, although he was good at assigning blame. Talking to him might be a mistake, but she needed to find out why her body had tricked her into believing something that wasn’t true.

  Then she had to call Jack. She felt terrible about inadvertently creating this stupid firestorm. He’d probably lose a whole bunch of money by backing out of his purchase of the Smith house. And who knew what else he’d done to start the ball rolling?

  She didn’t know how he would take the news. Would he be angry? Or relieved? The two prime emotions Pete and Drew would have displayed—most vocally. But Jack was an enigma.

  Tomorrow. She’d call him in the morning and that would be that.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  AN EMPTY JACK DANIEL’S bottle in the trash wasn’t a good omen, Kat thought as she passed through the kitchen of the log home she’d always loved. The place seemed pretty tidy, though. Not the way it had when her father was on a bender and she was expected to keep it clean.

  She called out his name but didn’t get an answer, so she headed toward his bedroom at the back of the house. It wasn’t unusual for him to take a late-afternoon “nap” on days that began with a cocktail for breakfast.

  After a quick stop at home to change into her jeans and boots and grab a few things for the boys, she’d driven into Rapid to pick them up. Shane had thoughtfully cut every one of the extras a check after they’d wrapped up filming. Hers included a nice little bonus for providing henna tattoos to the wives and girlfriends of the staff who’d traveled from California for the week.

  Jenna had suggested the idea when Kat had complained about being bored the first day of filming. The tattooing had been a nice diversion on Monday and Tuesday. After that, Kat had used the downtime to study. Two fewer worries that might have added to her stress—her paper was done and her car had a full tank.

  She paused to glance out the window. Even through the thick log walls she could hear the tinny rattle of the old quad her father let the boys drive. “Find the herd and take an accurate head count,” she’d told them. “But don’t hop the fence. This is rutting season and the young bulls are very unpredictable. Got it?”

  Tag had heaved his old-man sigh while Jordie had jumped up and down with excitement. She wasn’t sure her younger son understood what rutting meant, but no doubt his world-weary older brother would explain if the opportunity to point out the act arose.

  She shuddered with resignation and walked the rest of the way down the hall. “Dad?” She knocked lightly on his bedroom door.

  She didn’t enter until he answered, “Huh? Kat? Is that you?”

  She opened the door, her heart climbing into her throat. To her surprise, he wasn’t stretched out in bed, rumpled and bleary-eyed. He was seated at his desk. His computer was on and a stack of bills rested beside the keyboard. “Am I interrupting?”

  He pushed himself back and stood. “A welcome break. Is that the quad I hear? You musta brought my grandsons along.”

  She came a little closer, still not trusting the clear look in his eyes. Maybe he only had a little nip before the bottle ran out, she thought. “They’re going to find the bison. Is that okay? They haven’t been here for a while and I—”

  “Of course, it’s fine. I figured Jordie was probably going through bison withdrawals about now. He does love the big woollies.”

  Her heart twisted oddly. She hadn’t realized her father was so observant. “I know. He’s a softie. Like me.”

  Buck’s bushy left eyebrow rose. “I wouldn’t say that. You can be as prickly as any one of those rosebushes in the garden. And you’re as tough as nails when it comes to keeping your boys in line.”

  She blinked. Was that a compliment? It almost sounded like one. “What’s going on, Dad? Are you loaded? You don’t look drunk, but free compliments? That’s not like you.”

  She waited for an explosion, but instead of blowing up at her remarks, he laughed. “You got that right. I ain’t saying otherwise. But fact is, that bottle you probably spotted in the trash is the last of my hidden s
tash. I’d forgotten I planted it in the tack room. Emptied the whole thing down the sink.”

  He seemed sincere, but she wasn’t buying it. “I’ve been after you for years to stop drinking. Why now?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s not like I found God or learned I have cancer or anything. I just woke up one morning with a bad hangover and told myself this is a stupid way to waste what’s left of my life. I called a friend of mine who goes to AA and he picked me up for a meeting.”

  “You’re going to AA?”

  He made a wobbly motion with his hand. “Joining things isn’t my way, but I know they’re there if I need a little help. And Ray, my buddy, says I can always call him.”

  She didn’t know what to say, but the fact that he was lucid and in a fairly good mood might actually work in her favor. “Want a cup of coffee?” he asked.

  She started to say no. She avoided caffeine when she was pregnant. But then she remembered the test she’d taken at Libby’s. “Okay.”

  She followed him to the kitchen and hopped up on a stool at the counter. “Dad, I wanted to talk to you about you and Mom. Your marriage.”

  He groaned. “What for? That’s old news.”

  “But I’ve made the same mistake. Twice. And now Jack’s asked me to marry him. I don’t want to blow it again.”

  “Are you knocked up?”

  She stuck her tongue out at his back. “No, I’m not.” She couldn’t believe how much satisfaction it gave her to say that—even though she still felt most of the symptoms that had convinced her she was pregnant. And she still hadn’t gotten her period, either.

  “Then why the hell do you want to get married?”

  She let him finish filling the carafe before answering. “I didn’t say I did. But he’s buying a house in Sentinel Pass and moving his practice up here from Denver. He doesn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. Why? I really have no idea.”