Baby by Midnight?

by Karen Toller Whittenburg

  “Curiosity’s gonna kill that cat one of these days,” Genevieve pronounced as she plodded toward what sounded like a terrier and tomcat battleground. “And there ain’t gonna be ’nough satisfaction out there to bring him back.”

  Annie sighed and leaned against the table. She knew she was lucky beyond belief that Uncle Dex wanted her to run his clinic. She knew she was lucky to have his long experience behind her when she needed it. She knew she was lucky to be practicing her calling in Bison City, where she had the support of friends and long acquaintances. But there were moments—this one a prime example—when she wished she hadn’t been so lucky as to inherit Genevieve.

  “Get that cat out of my way, Hilda!” Genevieve bellowed suddenly. “Bring him on back here, Alex. Examining Room One.” She bustled into the room again like a drum major leading the parade, all pomp and circumstance.

  Annie straightened. Alex? “What is it?” she asked, even as she tried to see around Genevieve’s efficient preparations to swipe the table with an antiseptic cloth. Then Alex was in the room, his dark hair disheveled, his blue eyes troubled, his strong arms burdened with dog. Injured dog. Annie took in the situation in a glance and, despite feeling as jumpy as a cat trapped in a room full of no-pest strips, she moved into action. “Put him on the table. What happened?”

  Alex hesitated, then laid the dog on the metal table and stepped back. “Hit,” he said in a strange voice. “Car. Speeding. About fifty miles out.”

  Annie heard the nuance in his voice, recognized that he was tense, distressed, upset, but her energy and skill was centered on the dog. She had to stay focused. There was no time now to worry about Alex. Or to wonder what he was doing here. Or to think about the last time he was home. No, she especially couldn’t afford to think about that. “How fast were you going?” She snapped off the question as her hands moved over the dog, checking vital signs, assessing the damage, calculating what needed to be done.

  “I don’t know. Sixty, maybe. I slowed down when I saw him.”

  “Her. It’s a female,” Annie corrected, wishing Alex wasn’t always speeding through life, slowing down only when he noticed he’d hurt something... or someone. “But you still hit her.”

  “Yes,” he said, then, “No. No, I didn’t hit him—her. Look, could I talk to you a minute?”

  She looked up, met his eyes, felt the jolt of awareness all the way to her toes...and these days it was a long way down there. “We have nothing to talk about except how this animal came to be injured.”

  “You’re pregnant.” His voice was soft, hopeful, scared.

  “Yes. And you’re in the way. Genevieve? I’m going to need a set of X-rays of this leg. I think she just had a glancing blow to that leg, but let’s test for internal bleeding.”

  For once Genevieve did as she was told. She might be obstinate when it came to giving Samson a much-needed haircut, but she knew when to turn over the responsibility to someone else. This dog might have serious problems, might not make it...and Genevieve’s heart couldn’t bear to have any part in that. Annie glanced up at Alex, who was still in the room, still staring at her, his gaze roaming from her face to the rounded shape of her belly beneath the cat-and-dog-patterned fabric of her maternity smock. “Alex?” She waved him toward the door. “Would you go on out to the waiting room and see if you can calm Hilda down? You might tell Dinah—she’s the cute blonde at the front desk—to put the terrier in the other exam room or else try to get Samson into a cage.” He made no move to leave the room, and Annie tried again. “There’s nothing you can do in here, Alex. Nothing you even need to worry about. I’ll let you know how this little lady’s doing as soon as I know.”

  “You’re pregnant,” he repeated, obviously stunned by the thought, by the fact of it.

  And it was a fact. She was pregnant...and she’d known he’d have to find out about it sometime. Just not now. Not before the baby was born. Not until she had more time to prepare her story and strengthen her resolve that this time Alex wasn’t going to talk his way back into her life. This time she had someone else to consider. “Do me a favor, Alex,” she said firmly. “Go away. I am perfectly capable of handling this situation on my own.”

  He held her gaze—blue eyes locked with green—and the question filled the space between them for what seemed like forever before he finally gave it a form. “Mine?”

  She wasn’t ready for this. Not here. Not now. Not in front of Genevieve. “No,” she said, turning her attention back to the dog, burying her hands in the soft, dirty fur so that Alex couldn’t see how violently they trembled. “It’s mine.”

  ALEX PACED THE WAITING ROOM like an expectant—Oh, jeez. He didn’t want even to think the word. But there it was, nipping his heels like a fleabitten pup. Distracting, distressing, and wondrously possible. Father. Father. Father. Annie was pregnant. She was going to have a baby. His baby? Of course, his. It had to be. Who else would she have—

  The idea of Annie with another man wasn’t anything he was prepared to consider. She’d loved him since eighth grade when he’d told Jason Kettridge to quit harassing her. Jason hadn’t taken kindly to the advice and invited Alex to discuss it after class. In retrospect Alex supposed that the fact they both were suspended from school for a week for fighting probably did more to convince Jason he was in the wrong than any punch Alex might have landed. But the bottom line was Annie—and from the moment he’d challenged her antagonist, she looked at Alex with new eyes. She’d never had anyone much to stand up for her, and while Alex wasn’t exactly the ideal knight in shining armor, she didn’t seem to mind. Over the years he’d done his best to convince her he didn’t deserve her devotion, that she could do lots better than him, but the idea that she might have fallen in love with someone else simply wasn’t acceptable.

  Plus, the timing was all wrong for that possibility. Not that he was an obstetrician, but he hadn’t exactly flunked biology, either, and from what he could tell by looking, Annie was about six months along. Which put the conception back to April, which would line up with Josie’s wedding, which would line up with the night he and Annie had danced at the wedding reception, which meant his theory was possible. Probable, even, considering that dancing wasn’t all they’d shared that night.

  Alex paced some more and forced himself to think about other possibilities. Unpleasant ones, like the idea that she might be more than six months pregnant, in which case he couldn’t be the father. Or less than six months, which would also rule him out. Was he being just plain arrogant to think he was the only man she’d ever slept with? And that with only the one night of sweet communion, he’d managed to make her pregnant? That wasn’t just arrogant. It was a flat-out jump to conclusions, like a man who finds a shiny rock and goes right out and buys a Cadillac on the theory he’s discovered a gold mine.

  But no matter how he tossed the possibilities, he kept coming back to the one that made him the father of her baby. It seemed, somehow, easier to deal with the sudden, surprising discovery that he was going to become a father than to face the possibility of Annie being pregnant with another man’s child. And it wasn’t like he wanted to be well on his way to becoming a father. Alex wasn’t sure he’d know what to do with a baby. It certainly wasn’t part of his plans for the next year. The next several years for that matter. At the end of December, at the Midwestern Cutting Horse Futurity, he had his first real opportunity to prove to his brothers that he wasn’t some ne’er-do-well, but a McIntyre through and through. Once Koby swept the prizes in the cutting division, Alex would be the most sought-after horse trainer in the country. With that one win, the breeding program at the S-J would jump from a minor part of the ranch operations to a viable money-maker.

  Alex had planned for this opportunity a lot of years. He had things to prove to a whole bunch of people, but mostly he had to prove to himself that he could follow a dream through to the end of its rainbow and pat himself on the back for the accomplishment, no matter how it turned out. He wanted to stand shoulder
to shoulder with Matt and Jeff, to finally feel as if he’d earned their respect, man to man. Annie being pregnant wasn’t exactly the way he’d hoped to begin the process, that was for sure.

  It wasn’t the way he’d meant to start over with her, either. He’d thought he’d have time to do some proper courting, planned to show her over a period of months that he was home to stay, that he wanted the white picket fence and all the rest that made up the life she’d always, and only, wanted. He’d thought there’d be time to prove to her that beneath his rusty armor beat the heart of a gallant and responsible knight.

  But a baby. Someone tiny and helpless and dependent. Someone for whom he’d be responsible. Someone who’d need him wholly. Not just when it was convenient, but every day for the rest of his life. Scary thought, that, even for a knight. A baby. Annie’s baby. His.

  Okay, so he’d adjust. He’d overcome the obstacles. He’d stick with his plans. He’d finish Koby’s training, win the cutting futurity in December, garner a standing ovation from his family, and become a father. He could do it...easy. Well, it wouldn’t exactly be easy, but he could do it. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t done things the hard way before.

  Strange, he thought, that no one had bothered to tell him Annie was pregnant. Josie, who announced to complete strangers that she’d gotten pregnant on her wedding night, who had kept him apprised of her own condition from morning sickness to stretch marks, had failed to mention that most interesting piece of information. On the other hand, the omission spoke volumes for his theory that he was the father. Josie would have told him if there was another man in Annie’s life. She knew their history, had told Alex times out of mind he was an idiot to treat Annie as if she’d always be there, as if she’d wait forever for him to come home. If Annie had fallen in love with someone else, Josie would have told him. She wouldn’t have let him come home without some kind of warning. So, since she hadn’t told him anything, the baby must be his.

  Had to be his.

  Fate wouldn’t take Annie away from him just when he’d finally figured life out.

  A father.

  Alex swallowed hard and paced the clinic floor, some more.

  HE WAS OUTSIDE, walking a sleek bay stallion back and forth between the clinic and the stables behind it, when Annie came out. She stood at the door for a minute, just looking at him, feeling the familiar longing that crept over her like sunup after a really dark night every single time she laid eyes on this man. Alex McIntyre was wrong for her in more ways than she could count, and for years she had gone out of her way to be foolish over him. But no more. April had been the end of it. She had said her last goodbye to him then...and meant it. Alex was always leaving, was always going to be leaving, and she wasn’t going to spend another day waiting for him to drop in—and out—of her life. So she’d set her mind to it and determined to get on with life after Alex. That’s when she found out she was pregnant.

  Fate, as it turned out, had a warped sense of humor.

  Lifting her chin, Annie stepped off the concrete slab that served as the clinic’s back porch and walked out to meet Alex as he turned and started back toward her. The horse beside him tossed his dark head and pulled on the lead. Spirited. Annie could tell that by looking. Something about the straight-shouldered bay sparked her memory, too, but she couldn’t catch the thought fast enough, and it flitted away, undiscovered. She had not much idea what Alex was doing with the horse. From the trailer parked in the drive, she assumed he was taking the horse to the ranch. Or from the ranch. But she was certain Josie would have warned her if he was in town. On the other hand, Josie probably didn’t know he was here. Alex wasn’t a great one for letting people know his plans—even if one of the people happened to be his sister.

  Josie had to suspect her brother had fathered the child Annie carried. Truth be told, most people in Bison City probably had a fair idea that Alex was the father. But none of them knew for certain, because Annie wasn’t telling. And that’s the way she meant to keep it, too.

  “Flashy-looking horse,” she said as she fell into step with Alex and the bay. “Are you training or just transporting him?”

  “All that and more. Meet Koby.” Alex patted the horse’s neck and offered Annie a slanted smile. “That’s short for Kodiak Blue.”

  The fleeting thought dropped into place like a sledgehammer. She stepped back to give the horse a better look. “Alex McIntyre,” she said. “Don’t tell me this is that Texas twister of a quarter horse Trevor Hankins was talking about at last year’s Quarter Horse Congress?”

  Alex winked at her. “You’re lookin’ at him.”

  Annie couldn’t believe it. Matt would have conniptions if Alex came home with this horse. “You bought him?”

  “Lock, stock and barrel.”

  She rubbed the back of her neck. “You paid actual money for him?”

  “A goodly chunk of it, yeah. He’s going to win the cutting division of the Midwest Futurity later this year. You can bank on it.”

  Koby sidestepped restlessly, showing signs of the temperament that had earned him that bad-boy reputation, but Alex settled him down with words so soft Annie couldn’t even make them out. “Matt isn’t going to be happy,” she said, and saw by his expression that Alex was well aware of it.

  “Matt’s never happy with much of anything I do. Jeff, either. But they’ll get over it. In fact, they’ll be eating their hats before I’m through. And you can bank on that one, too.”

  Annie bit her bottom lip, hoping he was right, hoping this time Alex could turn a losing proposition into a winner. She could see where the challenge would appeal to him, knew he’d always thought he had something to prove to the world. Or to the world of the McIntyres, anyway. But that’s not what she and Alex had to discuss. “I think I’ll just keep my money in my sock,” she said, striving for a light tone. “No banks, no bets...no interest.”

  Alex’s gaze dropped to her stomach, then returned to her face. “You might have told me before now, Annie.”

  “Told you what?”

  “That you’re...that we’re pregnant.”

  “We’re not pregnant. I am.” She paused to let that soak into his thick skull. “And even supposing I had some overwhelming reason to inform you—which I didn’t—how would I have gone about doing that? Sent a postcard to General Delivery, Somewhere, U.S.A?”

  “Josie knows where I’ve been. We’ve been on the phone to each other at least once a week these past six months. Lord knows, all she talks about lately is how much weight she’s gained and what she’s bought for the baby and something about starting some kind of contest. First Baby of Bison City 2000 ... or something like that. It seems sort of odd she never mentioned the two of you were running neck and neck to win that contest.”

  “I doubt she thought you’d be interested, Alex,” Annie said bravely. “I’m a little surprised myself.”

  “Like hell you are. That baby’s mine. I know it as well as you do.”

  “Really? How do you know that?”

  “Josie’s six months along and she got pregnant on her wedding night ... and if you’re both due at the same time...”

  Annie had hoped he wouldn’t be quite so quick with the math. “Well,” she said, choosing denial as defense. “That’s an arrogant attitude, even for you.”

  “Arrogance has nothin’ to do with it. We slept together after Josie’s wedding reception. Remember? You, me, acres of moonlight? Bein’ pregnant doesn’t wipe out your memory, does it? Or is it just selective moments you’re forgetting?”

  “I remember just fine, thanks. And what I remember is that the night I got pregnant, you weren’t even in Wyoming. This baby is mine, Alex. Not yours, so you can quit shaking in your boots. I have no claim on you and neither does my child.”

  Koby tossed his head, stamped a foot, pulled on the lead, and Alex stopped frowning at her long enough to turn the horse and walk him back toward the corral. Annie stood her ground, watching the worn and faded denim that cupped his butt
and emphasized the long, muscular length of his legs, thinking about all the experiences she’d had watching him from this point of view. Walking away from her. Always walking away...even if now he was just walking to the corral to turn the horse loose inside it so he could come back and focus all his attention on arguing with her.

  He closed the gate, stood there with one booted foot resting on the bottom rail, watching the horse run off some tension, and just when Annie thought he wasn’t coming back to her, he turned and approached her in a long, purposeful stride. “Let’s get this straight, Annie. Are you tryin’ to tell me I’m not the father of your baby?”

  She kept her gaze steady on him, figuring that a lie said straight-out had at least a chance of being believed. “That’s just what I’m saying, Alex. This is not your baby.”

  His jaw tightened, flexed, and she thought he’d probably benefit by a run in the corral, too. But she didn’t, of course, say so.

  “Then, whose baby is it?” he asked. “And don’t say it’s yours, ’cause that’s not what I’m asking.”

  “I know what you’re asking, Alex, and I’m going to tell you. So listen up and listen up good. The father of this baby is—” she sucked in a deep breath and felt the baby kick in protest “—none of your business.”

  “You mean to stand there and tell me that I’m not the father, but you’re not telling who is?”

  “I’m not telling you,” she stated firmly.

  “So Josie knows? Your Uncle Dexter—does he know? What about Genevieve? Hilda Lawson? Doc Wilson? I’ll bet he asked and I’ll bet you told him, too, didn’t ya? That doctor-patient privilege thing?”

  “I haven’t discussed this with anyone. And for your information, Doc Wilson retired two years ago. Bison City has grown some since the last time you paid any attention to things. like doctors and our little hospital. We’re getting right uptown around here, Alex. There’s a new GP, Dave Gardner, who moved over from Cheyenne a while back. I even have a female obstetrician—and get this, she’s pregnant, too. Maybe you ought to go down to her office and ask her who fathered her baby!” Annie hadn’t meant to get angry, hadn’t realized she was angry with him, but suddenly all the times he’d disappointed her welled up into this one worst-case scenario. He could disappoint her until the cows came home, but she’d never, in a million, trillion years give him the opportunity to disappoint her child. Breaking her heart was one thing; breaking the heart of her child was another thing altogether.