It's not as if she hadn't thought about it herself. She'd pictured waking up next to him in the morning, having that big, warm body next to her in bed, her boys depending on him for attention and guidance, a baby knowing what it was like to have a father to hold her.
All those things were tempting and lovely to think about, but the reality was that Cal felt trapped and angry and responsible. Not the best requisites for a groom.
And she preferred to be alone, she really did. It was certainly better than marrying a man who was doing it for all the wrong reasons. She could take care of herself. She'd been proving that all along.
Nothing was going to change now.
* * *
"How's it going?"
John shook his head, sending Paula's high hopes plummeting. "They're not talking much," he said. "But I can't stop grinning, Paula. Can you imagine? A baby in this old place? Why, it's too good to be true." He grinned even wider. "Why, when Cal told me, I thought I'd fall right over."
"He seems okay with it, then?" She pulled her overnight bag out of her car and shut the door, but there was no sign of Addie or the boys.
"Seems to. Except he can't get Miss Addie to agree to get married and give that baby a name."
Paula sighed. "She's a stubborn girl. I've been hoping she and Cal would talk things over." She'd waited a week to return to the ranch, and then she'd come up on Saturday afternoon, hoping that she could baby-sit and let the young people have some time to work out their differences.
"Not that I know of. Cal's stomping around here, not saying anything at all, and Miss Addie's in that house all the time. The boys are doing real good with their riding lessons, though. Wait 'til you see them on their ponies. They took to those horses like they'd grown up here."
"I'm glad." She headed toward the house. "Where is everyone?"
"Cal drove off somewhere, and the rest of them are inside where it's nice and cool."
"What are we going to do, John?"
He lifted his hat and scratched his bald head. "Well, Miss Paula, I don't think there's anything we can do. But I've known Cal for twenty years now, since he was a skinny young kid cleaning barns, and he's a good man. He'll make this right, I'm sure he will."
"Addie's stubborn," Paula pointed out again, wishing her daughter would bend a little. Being independent was one thing, but being stupid was another. "But I know she likes him. Liking Cal's a good start, I'm sure."
"Seems like we ought to be able to figure out how to help things along," the old cowboy drawled. "Two smart folks like us."
"You have any ideas?"
"We could lock 'em in the tractor shed, see what happens." He chuckled.
"I'd rather lock them in a bedroom," Paula muttered, heading toward the front door. Another passionate encounter might help them think straight. "Whatever happened to the days of shotgun weddings?"
"Gone," John sighed. "But I got a couple of rifles if you want 'em."
"If things don't get settled before November," Paula said, "I'll take you up on that offer."
* * *
"How are you?"
Addie looked up from slicing cantaloupe for a fruit salad and saw Cal standing inside the door. He looked tired, but he didn't look angry. She'd missed him. She'd half hoped, half dreaded he'd come to the house, and yet it had been almost two weeks since his birthday. Two weeks since he'd found out she was pregnant.
"Fine. I'm making a salad to take to the kindergarten. They're having a last-day-of-school party tomorrow."
"I heard. It's all they can talk about." He closed the door behind him and walked over to her. "Marriage isn't such a bad idea, you know."
"You're going to tell me you want to be a father?"
"I'm trying to tell you to keep an open mind." She finished cutting the last slice of melon and covered the bowl with plastic wrap. "You're being very old-fashioned, Cal."
"Old-fashioned," he repeated, sounding slightly amused. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."
She set the bowl in the refrigerator and tried to ignore the fact that he was standing so close. "That's not a bad thing," she said. "I didn't mean it as an insult."
"It's probably old-fashioned to want to carry you upstairs to bed."
Addie stilled. "I don't think making love is going to make things any better."
"No?" He easily lifted her into his arms, as easily as he had that night outside of Billy's. "The boys are asleep and it's just you and me. Maybe we should try it and see."
"Sex isn't going to solve anything, Cal." But she rested her head on his shoulder and relaxed. She was in love with him, for heaven's sake. She wasn't in any condition to resist being carried to bed by the man she'd fallen in love with.
* * *
Chapter 12
«^»
When he woke the next morning, it was to discover Addie still asleep beside him. Her smooth, naked body was tucked against his side, and her breathing was light and even. He'd delighted in the changes in her body, in the small signs of pregnancy he was able to feel when he touched her. He wondered what she'd look like in three months, in five. He couldn't wait to see.
His woman. His child. Somehow, without realizing it, he'd been given the gift of a lifetime, a surprise of such magnitude that he could barely imagine the impact. He'd been alone all his life, except for Ed—a miserly yet fair employer—and John, the kind of grandfather everyone should have, even if he did like to meddle.
Even now he had nothing to offer this woman. Nothing except his name and his protection. Addie owned this place, she had plenty of money and she was smart enough to figure out how to run a cattle ranch, whether he was here or not. But she was pregnant with his child, and that counted for something.
That counted for a hell of a lot.
"Cal?" He turned to see Addie's gaze on his face.
"Good morning."
She smiled, a sleepy, satisfied smile that boded well for this morning's discussion of marriage. "Good morning. What time is it?"
"Not quite six. I thought you'd sleep later."
"I'm an early riser," she murmured, not looking at all as if she was ready to bounce out of bed.
"There's been no sound from the boys, so you can go back to sleep." He turned on his side and moved a lock of hair away from her cheek.
"Maybe I'll just lie here and enjoy the quiet." She smiled and his heart contracted.
"Marry me, Addie," he said softly. "We'll make it work, I promise." She didn't respond for a long moment, but she looked as if she was thinking over the suggestion.
"Why?" she asked finally.
Cal didn't hide his surprise. "That's obvious, isn't it? Because we're going to have a child."
"But there should be more to it than that," Addie said.
"More," he repeated. "What else can I offer, Addie?" He waited for her to answer, but she simply looked at him with those questioning blue eyes.
"I don't want to marry you," she said. "Not like this."
He moved away so she wouldn't see how hurt he was. He didn't know what she wanted from him, but he wasn't going to beg. Cal left the bed and retrieved his clothes. "I don't know what you want, sweetheart. But I wish to hell you'd figure it out soon."
"I want—" She stopped suddenly, obviously unwilling to tell him. Or maybe she didn't know. He'd heard pregnant women could be a little odd at times.
"What?" he prompted, throwing on his clothes. "Tell me and I'll make it happen."
"You can't." Her eyes filled with tears, and something within him snapped. He was tired of being alone, tired of living on the outside looking m. And she expected him to stand by and let it happen with his own child?
"I get it," he snapped. And he was afraid he understood all too well. "Here's the deal, Addie," he said, approaching the bed, while she struggled to sit up and pull the sheet over her full breasts. "You either marry me or I'm out of here."
"That's quite an ultimatum." She looked up at him as if she didn't quite believe he was serious.
> "I want you. And I want the baby. I'll take care of your sons and I'll run your ranch. What more do you want?" He suspected she wanted him to fall on his knees and express his undying devotion, but he was no hypocrite. He offered what he could, and no more.
"No," she whispered. "That's not enough."
"Not good enough for you, I guess," he said, trying to smile to show that his heart wasn't smashed.
"That's not it at all," she insisted. "What about love, Cal? We don't—"
"What?" he asked into the silence. "We don't what?"
She didn't answer, and he knew that she couldn't say the words.
"Never mind. I can take care of myself," Addie said, looking fragile and determined.
"If that's the way you want it," Cal said, "that's the way you can have it." He took a deep breath and went to the door, but before he opened it he turned back to the woman in the bed. "You have my resignation, sweetheart. I'll be out of here as soon as I've packed."
He didn't wait for her reply. He left the room, and the house, as fast as he could, before he could weaken and change his mind. He'd had years of experience being alone, and he damn well could continue.
But he didn't have much experience with love, and he wasn't about to say something he didn't mean. But if he could love anyone, it would be Addie.
* * *
She didn't cry. She had what she wanted, didn't she? He was leaving, which she'd hoped for weeks ago. She was better off alone, of course. Better off managing things by herself. She could take care of her children and her life without Cal McDonald.
He didn't love her. He'd said as much before he left. He was honest, and she was foolish. So foolish to fall in love with the man in such a short time. From the second he'd touched her, taken her hand and led her onto the dance floor that night, she'd felt as if she'd found someone she could wrap her arms and heart around. There had been that mind-numbing passion, but she'd felt she could trust him, too. And she still felt that way, even if he had just walked out.
"You have too much pride," Kate told her later over the phone. "Admit you're in love with him and take him any way you can get him. Men like that don't come around very often."
Yes, Addie agreed. Men like Cal were few and far between. But she didn't know how to make him love her. "I'm not going to trap him into marriage," she insisted, feeling righteous and lonely.
"How do you know he doesn't love you, you idiot? Have you asked him?" Kate's voice had become shrill.
"Of course not. I'm not that pathetic."
"It's a damn good question," Kate insisted. "And he might have an interesting answer. I like Cal. If I wasn't dating your air conditioner installer—and by the way, he's absolutely fabulous, in bed and out of it—I'd go after him myself."
"Over my dead body," Addie said, wondering if she'd sent Cal into the arms of the beautiful real estate agent from town. "Besides, he's not your type."
"No, Addie. He's yours. So put on some makeup and go hunt him down. Give him a chance to sweep you off your feet again."
"He's angry."
"He's hurt. Go say you're sorry and haul him back to bed. Or I'm going to call your mother."
"That's not even remotely funny." Addie certainly didn't want to hear what Paula would have to say about Cal leaving the ranch, and his unborn child. She'd be here this afternoon and find out soon enough, though.
The boys ran into the kitchen and started hollering about going to the barn. "I have to go. The boys are going riding before the party at school."
"Good luck," Kate said. "And don't be a fool. Go after him."
Easier said than done.
* * *
"But this isn't right," John sputtered. "Calvin, you know darn well this isn't right at all."
"I offered to marry her," Cal said, shoving his small pile of clothing into a cardboard box. "I begged her to marry me. She said no."
"She'll change her mind," the old man insisted. "Surely she'll come to her senses any day now."
"I can't do it, John." He gathered up an armful of books and tossed them into a paper bag. "I can't stay here and watch from a distance while she raises my child and dates the local plumber, or the guy who owns the insurance business on Main Street
. She thinks she's better off without me and maybe she's right."
"Aw, Cal, come on, son." He followed Cal into the kitchen and out the door, but Cal didn't slow down. He was determined to load up his truck and get the hell out of Nowhere.
"Dammit, McDonald," the old man muttered. "You've gone too far."
"Not far enough," Cal said, and went back into his house for another load as John shuffled toward his own place, presumably to cuss in private.
Not long afterwards, Cal caught a glimpse of Addie and her sons heading toward the corral, but that didn't slow Cal's packing. He watched to see if she would head his way after taking the boys to John for their riding lesson, but she returned to the house without looking in his direction. She wore sunglasses, a floppy hat and the green dress she'd worn for his birthday party. She looked pregnant and luscious and completely unattainable.
So he returned to his house, opened a can of soda and continued to pack. He didn't know he had so much stuff, but with any luck he could be out of here in twenty minutes. He'd just put the last box in the back of the truck when he heard John calling him.
"Cal!"
He went around to the front of the truck to see the old man standing there holding a rifle. "What are you doing, John?"
"Making a point," the old man growled. "I don't want no one going nowhere, least of all the father of my next great-grandchild."
"What?" The old man had spent too much time in the sun, was Cal's first thought. The other was that John had suddenly gone insane.
"You heard me." He lifted the rifle to his shoulder and pointed it toward Cal. "Get away from that truck, Cal, and come with me to see Addie. We'll get this settled in no time at all."
"Put the gun down," Cal said, holding up his hands as if he was about to be arrested. "We'll go inside and talk. I still have a couple of Mountain Dews in the fridge and—"
"Nope." He gestured with the rifle, and Cal couldn't tell if this was some kind of joke or the desperate act of a man who'd watched too many television westerns. "We're going to talk to Addie, and you're getting married."
"John?" Addie came hurrying down the road, kicking up little balls of dust with her green sandals. "What on earth are you doing?"
"Miss Addie, you're just the person I wanted to see." He grinned and lowered the gun as she approached. "Cal here has something he wants to say."
Cal put his arms down and hoped like hell that the gun wasn't loaded.
"John, what's going on?" She eyed the gun as if it was a three-headed snake. "Put that thing away before it hurts someone."
"Not yet," the old man replied. "Soon, though. Right after we sort things out." He glared at Cal. "Well, son? Tell the woman how you feel about her."
"John—"
"Do it," the old man said. "You've never been short on brains, but you're acting like a fool. Do you love my granddaughter or not?"
Cal was saved from having to answer when Addie spoke.
"Your granddaughter?" Addie stared at the old man. "Who's that?"
"You are, darlin'." John grinned. "I wasn't going to say nothing for a while, cuz I'm not real proud of what kind of father I was, and I sure as heck couldn't go behind Ed's back and see my granddaughter, since Ed figured we wouldn't be welcome and I don't blame him, but heck, it's clear that you need someone looking out for you."
Addie's mouth dropped open. "You're my grandfather?"
"Yes, darlin', I sure am. Edward Johanson Senior," he announced. "John's short for Johanson. Always was." He nodded toward Cal. "And I want you to have the best husband in the whole darn world, so that's why Cal here is going to make an honest woman out of you."
Her gaze dropped to the gun and she laughed. "You were going to shoot him for me?"
"Nah, it's n
ot loaded." He grinned. "I just wanted to make sure Cal didn't leave. Not 'til you two worked out your differences."
"He doesn't have to marry me," Addie insisted. "Really he doesn't."
But John was not so easily convinced. "Do you love him, Addie? You do, don't you?"
"Of course," she answered. "But that's not the point."
Cal ignored the rifle and moved toward her. "You love me?"
"You don't have to look so surprised." She turned pink. "I thought it was obvious."
"Tell her you love her," John ordered, and Cal spoke right up.
"I love you, Addie." Surprisingly, he got the words past the lump in his throat.
She didn't look at all convinced, but John was pleased enough to lower the rifle and grin at both of them. "There," he said. "Was that so dam difficult?"
"No," Cal lied. If love meant that the very sight of Addie made his heart pound and his blood race and his breath get stuck in his throat, then he was in love. If leaving her made him feel close to death, then he was in love. If the thought of marrying her caused heaven to open up and shower him with undeserved blessings, then he was in love.
Cal removed the rifle from the old man's hands. He double-checked to make sure it wasn't loaded before he set it inside the truck. "Jeez, John, have you been drinking?"
"I'm glad we're family," Addie told John, and kissed his cheek. "Wait until the boys find out that—" She stopped and pulled away. "John, where are Matt and Ian?"
"I sent them back to the house. Didn't have the heart—or the time—for lessons this morning. They weren't real happy, but I watched 'em 'til they reached the porch—"
"They're not there," she said, turning white.
"But I watched them go home." John looked as if he was going to burst into tears, and Cal frowned. Those two kids could get into a pile of trouble on this place, but they'd only shown interest in one thing so far, and that was riding.
"The horses," Cal said. "Do you think they went riding on their own?"
"Oh, Lord," John groaned. "I'd saddled up the mares before changin' my plans. Do you think—"
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