If I Can't Have You

by Iris Morland

  Mark almost laughed. If Charlie knew about his latest stupid thing...

  "A woman's coming Saturday to help me out," Mark said. He didn't wait to see Charlie's reaction.

  "A woman? Who? Why? Did you break your brain, too?" Charlie guffawed at that.

  "No, but I can't do everything with a broken arm." Liar, he thought to himself. He could manage just fine without additional help, but Abby didn't know that, did she? "She's going to help around the house."

  "Huh. So a maid."

  Mark glared at Charlie over his shoulder. "She's not a maid."

  "Okay then. A housekeeper." Charlie shrugged. "As long as she doesn't get in the way around here, or try to make us eat kale chips. What is it with women and kale, huh?"

  "You're definitely asking the wrong man about how women think," was Mark's wry reply.

  2

  After arriving home, Abby wanted a drink and then to sleep for the rest of her life. She was beyond exhausted: not only because of her run-in with Mark, but the three patients who'd taken all her concentration and training afterward.

  The worst patient had been the homeless man who had shouted at her when she wouldn't tell Dr. Smythe to get him more painkillers. He'd stumbled out of the hospital before they'd cleared him to leave. Abby knew he'd return before long.

  She smiled when her two cats, Darcy and Wentworth, were at the door when she came inside. Both black cats, you could only tell them apart because Wentworth had a smudge of white on his chest. They always came to greet her when they heard her car pull up.

  Wentworth stood on his hind legs, his paws on her knee, begging for an ear scratch. Darcy swished his tail, acting aloof, but when Abby scratched his chin, he started purring.

  "Come on, let's go get something to eat," she said to the cats, who followed her into the kitchen. After feeding the felines, she fixed herself a plate of leftovers and decided that she'd watch some stupid reality show before turning in. Sipping her wine, she told herself to forget about what had happened today.

  But even the shenanigans of some crazy brides on TV weren't enough to keep her from thinking about her deal with Mark Thornton.

  "I've lost my mind," she said to Wentworth when he climbed onto her lap. "I should be committed. Or maybe Mark should be. He's off his rocker. Who does something like that?"

  Wentworth purred and closed his eyes as she petted him.

  Abby didn't know if Mark needed someone to help him. Maybe he did, or maybe he just wanted to screw with her. He didn't want to screw her, like she'd initially thought. Of course not.

  She wasn't a woman to inspire insatiable lust in men, generally speaking. She didn't consider that a bad thing, per se, but sometimes it stung.

  Was it so wrong to want someone to want her for once?

  Her ex-boyfriend Derek had made a point to tell her he'd never really wanted her. She'd been convenient, he'd said. Abby knew he'd said that because he was pissed she'd wanted to end things; he'd wanted to hurt her, and he'd succeeded. Logically, she knew that. But emotionally? It had struck a nerve.

  Who would want a fattie like you? I didn't get with you for your looks, he'd said during one particularly brutal argument.

  She'd countered that if he'd found her so unattractive, why had he begged her to go on a date with him when they'd first met?

  "Men are idiots," she said to no one except her cats. They were the only men in her life she trusted. At least cats were honest about only caring about themselves. She respected their unapologetic selfishness.

  When her phone rang, she groaned, because only one person called her instead of texted.

  "Hi Mom," she said. She knew Fiona would want to grill her more about her new (and imaginary) boyfriend.

  "Oh good, you're home. I thought you had a late shift tonight." Abby could hear the excitement in Fiona's voice. "We barely got a chance to chat earlier. I want you to tell me everything."

  Abby almost laughed. If only she could tell Fiona everything! Her mother would sure get a kick out of her daughter having a made-up boyfriend, wouldn't she?

  Guilt assailed her. She was lying, and continuing to lie. But now that she'd started this, she had to see it through to the bitter end. Or I could tell Mark the deal's off.

  "You know the Thorntons, right?" was what Abby said instead.

  "Of course I do. Although I don't know much about your Mark. What does he do? Where did you meet? When did you decide to make things official?"

  Abby realized she didn't know a thing about him. She needed to rectify that if she were going to play his girlfriend.

  Geez, I'm a terrible person, aren't I?

  Abby told her mother what she did know about Mark, which was not very much. When Fiona pressed for details about how they'd started dating, Abby remained coy.

  "Mark doesn't like his personal business out in the open," she said. She imagined he'd agree with that statement.

  "Oh, come on! Don't be like that. I've been waiting for this ever since you and Derek broke up. I was afraid you'd never date again. I know your breakup was hard on you—"

  "Let's not talk about Derek right now." Abby looked down at Wentworth, whose eyes were slits, like he were judging her. "Actually, I wanted to let you know that I'll be living with Mark for a time to help him, since he broke his arm."

  Abby didn't know how Fiona would react to that announcement. Dismay, excitement? Disapproval? But when Fiona let out an ear-splitting scream, Abby had to hold the phone away from her ear.

  "You're moving in with him? Already? I can't believe it!" Fiona cried. "You should've told me right away!"

  "It's not like that—it's temporary. He asked me to help him."

  "Doesn't matter! This is a big step for you, although it does seem fast. Are you sure about this?"

  No, I'm not sure about much of anything anymore. "Oh, totally sure."

  After giving Fiona as many details as she could, they said goodbye, Fiona assuring Abby that this sounded like an amazing chance for her to "seal the deal."

  Fiona Davison had raised Abby by herself after Abby's father had passed away when she was a small child. Abby couldn't blame her mother for wanting her to find happiness with a marriage and a family. The depressing thing was that Abby did want a husband and children, but she had come to accept that there was little to no chance that would happen.

  She finished her wine and got another glass before she got ready for bed. Lately, she avoided mirrors, but tonight, she gazed at herself without flinching. Standing there naked after her bath, she took in her light brown hair and her light brown eyes.

  She looked pale, which she attributed to stress. She'd lost weight recently, although not because she'd been trying to. Turning this way and that, she looked at her breasts—overly large, in her opinion—and the curve of her belly. The stretch marks, the cellulite. She plucked a hair from a mole behind her knee.

  Her ass was decent, but nothing amazing. She had nice toes, she supposed.

  Darcy hopped onto the counter and butted her hand with his head. She petted him, her thoughts far away.

  Two years ago, when she'd still been dating Derek, she'd thought she was pregnant because she'd missed her period for two months. She'd always had irregular periods, and although she and Derek had always used condoms, she'd wondered if one hadn't worked.

  After the pregnancy test had come back negative, her doctor had done further tests to discover why her periods had disappeared. As a nurse, Abby knew a woman could stop menstruating if she were stressed, too thin, or a host of other reasons besides pregnancy.

  After blood tests and an ultrasound, her doctor had told she had Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, PCOS for short.

  "It's actually very common," he'd said in his prosaic tones, "but most women haven't heard of it, unless they're diagnosed with it. Based on the cysts on your ovaries and your being overweight, I would be surprised if you could get pregnant naturally at all. You also have a bicornuate uterus, meaning that it's heart-shaped. That will make it eve
n more difficult to conceive. If you do get pregnant, there's double the chance of miscarriage as well. Diet and exercise, plus going on the Pill, are our best course of action for now."

  Abby had found it ironic that, even though she was a nurse, she'd never thought she had something wrong with her. She'd heard of PCOS before, but she'd never studied it extensively.

  It had been surreal, hearing those words said in the same way you'd say, There's a sale on potatoes at the store or I need a ride to work tomorrow morning. Her dreams of having a family someday, dashed in an instant. Although her diagnosis wasn't a definitive one, her doctor hadn't seemed hopeful.

  Abby had returned home, devastated and terrified, and she'd cried the rest of the evening.

  Derek had been sympathetic, to a degree. She'd seen the look in his eyes when she'd told him about her inability to have children. He hadn't said the words, but after that, their relationship had never recovered. Suddenly, the dreams of the future had shattered, until everything had fallen apart.

  I want to be with a woman who can have kids, Derek had told her that last day. Sorry, Abby. I don't want to adopt some other people's kids, either. You know what I mean, right?

  After her mirror perusal, Abby got dressed for bed and crawled underneath the covers. She almost couldn't blame Derek. Her body couldn't do what it should do. She knew she was more than a body made to carry a baby, but the hurt pierced her heart anyway.

  She was abnormal. Broken.

  She hadn't told Fiona about her diagnosis. It would've hurt her too much. And although Abby knew that ignoring a diagnosis was hardly the best course of action, she preferred not to think about it. If she didn't think about it, maybe it wasn't real.

  It was good that Mark didn't want her, she decided. Because what were the chances he'd stay with her if he discovered the truth?

  He might not be as cruel as Derek, but she'd see the shadow in his eyes. The disappointment. The judgment.

  It was better this way, she told herself as she tried to fall asleep.

  "Shit, what did you do to yourself?" Caleb asked, seeing Mark's arm. "Did you get run over by a tractor?"

  "Hilarious. No, I got thrown from my horse."

  Caleb's eyes widened. "Damn, man, be careful. You're lucky it wasn't your neck."

  Mark grunted, agreeing with his older brother's assessment but not wanting to admit it. He'd been stupid, riding a horse that still needed training. But he'd assumed his experience would outweigh a touchy horse's predilection for getting spooked.

  "Glad you're okay," Harrison, the eldest Thornton brother, said as he handed Mark a beer. "How long do you have to wear a cast?"

  "Six weeks, give or take. The break was clean."

  Mark chatted with his brothers before they all went into the dining room in Caleb and Megan's new house. Megan had insisted on having everyone over to celebrate the move.

  "Everyone" included Harrison and his fiancée Sara, Caleb and his girlfriend Megan, and Jubilee, the youngest Thornton. Megan owned The Rise and Shine, the local bakery downtown, and she liked to experiment with her cuisine. Based on the amazing smells wafting from the kitchen, dinner would be a hit.

  Mark couldn't stop himself from feeling like a third wheel, despite his brothers' best efforts to include him in the conversation. He listened to a lot of chatter about Sara and Harrison's upcoming wedding, and how Caleb and Megan enjoyed living together.

  He also couldn't stop the curl of envy in his gut every time he looked at his brothers. They'd both fallen in love with incredible women who adored them.

  Jubilee sat next to Mark, giving him a secret smile, like she knew how he felt about being single amidst all of these lovebirds.

  As far as Mark knew, Jubilee hadn't dated anyone. The thought of his baby sister with a man made him want to punch somebody. Jubilee had suffered two bouts of childhood leukemia, and the family had protected her from the world as a result.

  Mark sometimes had a hard time seeing Jubilee as a grown woman now. He couldn't help but remember Jubilee as a child, bald and sick, hooked up to wires and machines.

  But the future marched on, even if Mark didn't want it to. Jubilee was grown; his brothers were in love; and he was still alone, like he liked it.

  When Megan asked Sara if she'd decided on her wedding colors, Mark almost groaned.

  Jubilee leaned over to ask, "How's Delilah?"

  That made him smile. Delilah was his chestnut mare who was due to give birth with her first foal soon. He'd acquired Delilah over a year ago, and she'd become his favorite horse, mostly for her sassy personality and love of carrots.

  "She's doing good. I think she'll be pretty uncomfortable soon, though, but her foal is growing as it should," he said.

  "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

  "It's a girl."

  Jubilee smiled, surprised. "Honestly, I didn't think you'd know that, but I don't know anything about horses. Aw, Mark, you're going to have a little girl."

  Mark tugged on Jubilee's braid, rather like he did when they were kids.

  "Who's having a girl?" Megan asked from across the table. "Are we talking about human girls or some other species?"

  "We're talking about horses," Jubilee replied. "Mark's horses, specifically."

  "You're having a baby horse? Oh, when? I want to see a baby horse!" Megan looked enchanted by the idea.

  "It's called a foal," Caleb said, which earned him a stuck-out tongue and a threat to keep his big mouth shut if he didn't want to pay for it later.

  The group peppered Mark with questions, which he didn't mind answering. He'd begun breeding horses two years ago, but Delilah was something special. Multiple breeders had wanted to breed their stallions to her, and Mark had a distinct feeling she'd bring him quite a lot of money in the end. But Mark had waited until Delilah was a little older, and this year was the first time she'd be foaling.

  "I'd love to come out sometime to see your ranch," Sara said. "James, too." James was Sara's six-year-old son from her previous marriage.

  "Oh man, can you imagine James riding a horse?" Megan laughed. "He'd never get off of it!"

  "I don't give riding lessons," Mark said.

  When Harrison raised an eyebrow at him, he could've bitten his tongue in half. He didn't mean to sound like an asshole, at least most of the time.

  "I mean, I don't know much about teaching kids," he explained to Sara.

  Sara didn't look offended; instead, she smiled at him. "I wouldn't want to try to keep James away from horses, either, even if he'd probably get kicked within five minutes."

  Everyone laughed, the brief tension dispelled.

  When Megan mentioned that she'd talked to Abby recently, Mark couldn't stop himself from listening to Megan's every word. He almost expected Megan to call him out about his deal with Abby. But Megan never alluded it. Abby didn't tell her, he thought.

  He let out a relieved breath. Jubilee gave him a questioning look. He ignored it.

  He knew this arrangement between him and Abby was a terrible idea. And what did he hope would come of it? That Abby would decide that she liked him? He almost laughed at himself.

  Mark had wanted her to be near him. It was stupid, and selfish, and he was an asshole. Yet he couldn't find the strength to call it off.

  It was ironic, he thought wryly, that he'd decided to pursue a woman at all when he'd vowed to keep to himself after his last relationship. His ex, Tina, had stomped on his heart without blinking.

  Mark had fallen hard for Tina Gage when he'd first seen her in college. With her auburn hair and laughing eyes, she'd shone the brightest in every room she'd entered. He'd fallen hard and fast. When he'd asked her out and she'd said yes, he could hardly believe it. By the third month of dating, he'd known he was in love with her.

  And then she'd cheated on him—with his best friend.

  Mark forced the memory away, but the cake Megan had baked tasted like ash in his mouth. He could barely finish it.

  After Tina, Mark h
ad sworn off love. What was love except manipulation? A means to control someone? Tina had led him around by the nose, and he'd told himself never again.

  An hour later, Mark said his goodbyes and headed out to his truck. To his surprise, Harrison followed him, calling his name.

  "Hey, everything all right? You were quiet in there."

  Mark grunted. "Am I ever chatty?"

  Harrison grinned. He looked a lot like Mark, although he wasn't as broad-shouldered. Harrison was a pediatric oncologist who owned his own practice in Fair Haven.

  "Good point." Harrison slapped him on the shoulder, his eyes filled with concern. "It's been good seeing more of you lately. Don't hide out at that ranch of yours too much, okay? Sara and I are always happy to have you over."

  Mark almost told his brother about Abby. What would Harrison think about this scenario? He'd think he was crazy, for one.

  Mark had always been the black sheep of the family. He loved his siblings, but he'd set himself apart from them since childhood. As an adult, he'd managed on his own without complaint.

  "I'm fine. See you later." Mark got into his truck, trying not to notice the hurt on Harrison's face in his rearview window.

  3

  "You'll need to stay off your foot for the next few weeks. It's a pretty bad sprain, but luckily, nothing was broken." Abby's latest patient was a ten-year-old boy who'd sprained his ankle after his friends had dared him to climb a tree.

  The boy nodded, his mother giving him a look of exasperation. "What did I say about doing dares?" she exclaimed. "You'll break your neck someday!"

  "I didn't break my neck, though," the boy replied.

  Abby bit back a smile. After speaking to the mother about her son's aftercare, Abby glanced at the clock outside in the hallway. Almost lunchtime. Had four hours already passed since she'd arrived? She'd been working nonstop today and hadn't even gotten a chance to have a cup of coffee.