by Leanne Banks
Jonathan joined him at the railing and inhaled the night air. "You've come up with some harebrained ideas before, but this one takes the cake," he said as if he could read Noah's mind.
Noah glanced at his brother in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"You don't really think I'm after the woman you intend to marry, do you?" Jonathan asked.
Noah shrugged. "Martina's a beautiful, challenging woman. It would be hard for a man not to fall for her."
Jonathan shook his head. "You must be so ga-ga over her that you can't see straight."
Noah resented the implication that he was out of control. "I can see just fine. You were dancing with her, and you two were laughing. Sounded pretty damn cozy to me."
"Ga-ga," Jonathan repeated. "Totally ga-ga. For Pete's sake, Noah, the woman is so pregnant with your baby she looks like you could say boo and she'd have the child on the spot."
"So?"
Jonathan groaned. "Can't you see that she feels totally out of place here in no-woman's-land? If one of us doesn't talk to her a little, she's gonna think we all hate her guts. Adam is convinced her brothers are going to ride over here and try to burn down the house, and Gideon is convinced she's got some kind of voodoo power, since she's able to make you act so crazy."
"Crazy," Noah echoed. "I'm not acting crazy."
"Thinking I'm after the woman who's carrying your baby isn't crazy?" Jonathan asked. "Think about it."
Noah reconsidered and felt a trace of foolishness trickle through. He glanced at Jonathan. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything. Love makes fools of us all."
Noah shifted uncomfortably. "For the most part, I've kept a clear head about Martina. I'm committed to her, but I wouldn't say I'm in love with her."
Jonathan laughed aloud. "Well, you'd damn well better be, because nothing else is gonna work with her."
Noah frowned. "What do you mean? You know I've never gotten too worked up over the idea of being in love with a woman. I'm not even sure I believe in it." He felt an odd twinge at his words, as if they didn't adequately cover his feelings on the matter as well as they once did. "Besides," he continued, "Martina and the baby are too important to let emotions cloud what I need to do."
"Hate to tell you this, bro, but your emotions already have. Maybe your problem is you've been trying to keep your heart out of this."
Noah fought a wave of uneasiness. "I still don't know what the hell you're talking about."
"Do you really think Martina's the kind of woman who is gonna respond well to a calculated play for her?"
"Well, no." Noah rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. "Maybe not."
"You know her a lot better than I do, but I've always thought women were a little like horses. With some of them, you follow every rule in the book and it all works out fine. But if you've got a Thoroughbred, the regular rules won't necessarily cut the mustard. Sometimes you've got to follow your gut, your instincts, your heart. It sounds to me like you've been leading with your head. If you're gonna get Martina, you might just have to lead with your heart."
Noah prized intellect and passion and held little faith in human emotion. He'd watched too many people get hurt from too much feeling and not enough thinking. Jonathan might as well have told him he would have to jump off a cliff in order to win Martina.
There'd been no more chapters read from The Hobbit last night, and Martina had tossed and turned before she'd fallen into an uneasy sleep. When she awoke this morning, she felt lost. Determined to get back control of her life, she showered and began to pack. Midway through her task, a knock sounded at the door.
Martina opened it to Noah. "I'm leaving today," she blurted before she fell under his spell and found another reason to stay with him.
His expression inscrutable, he nodded. "Okay. If you don't mind waiting until lunch, I'd appreciate it. I've got something I need to show you."
Surprised at his lack of protest, she agreed and felt her sense of loss deepen as he left her room. She sank onto the bed and fought the urge to cry. She looked out the window onto the Coltrane ranch and saw a land that needed flowers, a home that needed a woman's touch. Surely she couldn't be that woman, she thought. Not with all the history between her family and Noah's.
She closed her eyes and the truth pounded her like a relentless tidal wave. Although she had fought it, she was in love with Noah Coltrane, and her love for him was going to hurt her and her brothers. It was right for their baby to have two parents and to experience the privilege of having Noah as a father, but it was wrong for Martina to betray her brothers. Her brothers had loved her when her father had not. Logan loyalty ran deep, and she feared that if she stayed with Noah, she would feel guilty for the rest of her life. More confused than ever, she knew she needed to return to Dallas to make her decision.
By lunchtime, Martina was ready to bolt, but she made herself bide her time. Noah met her in the living room and led her out the front door. "Patch, make sure you hang around for the delivery," he called. "I'll be back in a little while."
He turned to Martina and offered his arm as they walked down the steps to the truck. "It occurred to me," he said, "that whatever happens between you and me, our child will spend some time on the ranch, and that means you should know a little about it, too."
His acceptance of her plan to leave rubbed at a raw spot inside her. Had he given up? she wondered. She should be relieved, she told herself. Wasn't that what she had wanted?
She listened as he told her about the various buildings and pastures as he drove throughout the ranch. He showed her the new bunkhouse for the fencing and roundup weekends. Although the Logan ranch possessed a more finished look, Martina was impressed with the size and layout of the Coltrane ranch. The unpolished nature of the ranch held the promise and excitement of fresh possibilities.
Noah pulled to a stop in front of a building under construction. "Let's take a look," he said, and helped her out of the truck.
The spacious two-story building boasted a large number of windows and an elegant, but casual Southwestern-style exterior. Walking through the front doorway, she nodded at all the light from the windows. Martina had always preferred plenty of light in her living quarters.
"It's lovely," she said. "What is it going to be?"
"It was originally going to house a new office, but plans change," he said thoughtfully. "Come upstairs."
They climbed the stairs to the second level, which boasted five rooms and large closets. Two of the rooms featured skylights with shades. Noah led her into one of the smaller rooms. "I thought this could be the nursery. When I found out about the baby, I wanted to make a place for both of you here."
Martina's heart stopped. "Oh, Noah, I can't. I … I…"
He pressed a fingertip to her lips. "You can stay and you can go. It won't change what's between us. If we didn't lose it when you left Chicago and stayed away all those months, it's not going to disappear now, no matter how hard you may want it to." He stroked her cheek and held her gaze. "No matter how inconvenient and scary it is for you, I'm not going anywhere."
His words cut through her confusion with sword-like precision. But Noah didn't understand the war going on inside her, jerking her from one side to the other. "I still need to leave," she said in a voice that trembled, despite her best intentions.
"Okay," he said. "Let's go back to the house." They rode in silence and Martina's tension grew with each breath she took. When they arrived, she noticed an unfamiliar car parked in front of the house. "Visitor?"
"Yep," he said, but didn't explain.
Lost in a sea of conflicting emotions, Martina got out of the truck and went back into the house with the intention of quickly gathering her belongings so she could leave.
Patch met them in the hall with a broad grin. "Delivery was made and your guest is in the den chatting with Jonathan."
"Good," Noah said, and glanced in the living room. He chuckled.
Curious, Ma
rtina peeked into the room. "What was the deliv—" She gasped in shock when she saw a baby grand in the middle of the room. "Omigoodness!"
"Yeah, those suckers are pretty big considering they're called babies," Noah said. He glanced carefully at Martina. "What do you think of it?"
Surprised, she walked closer to the piano and shook her head. "It's beautiful. Just beautiful. I didn't know you played."
"I don't," he said, his jaw ticking with discomfort. "But I thought if you wanted to learn, it would be nice to have one available."
Overwhelmed, she gaped at him. "You bought this for me?"
He shrugged and leaned over to touch one of the ivory keys. "I thought it might be a way to make you feel a little closer to your mother."
Martina's chest filled with emotion. Her eyes burned with tears. "But don't you think this is a bit much?"
"I didn't get the impression you'd take a ring," he said, lowering his gaze to hers. "Try it out."
She was so moved she was incoherent. Sitting down on the bench, she tinkered with the keys. "I don't know how to play. How could you do this?" she asked in a voice wobbly to her own ears. "Why?"
"This was an illogical, emotional decision," he said. "You miss the mother you never had. I can't bring her back for you. But maybe I can do something that will make you feel like she's not so far away." He stepped into the hallway. "Hey, Patch, would you bring the visitor in?"
"Visitor?" Martina said, still overwhelmed.
An elderly lady with fluffy white hair entered the room and gave a soft little gasp. "Stars! You look just like Anna."
Confused, Martina looked to Noah for help. "Pardon?"
"This is Helen Lowry and she was your mother's piano teacher when your mom was a little girl. Helen is still teaching piano and she'd be happy to take you on as a student."
One moment ago, Martina hadn't dreamed she could be more overwhelmed, but he'd topped her. "You knew my mother?"
"Most of her life," Mrs. Lowry said with a smile. "She was a sweet girl who occasionally got into mischief. When she first started taking lessons with me, her mother would dress her in the prettiest little dresses. But Anna liked to climb trees and she was always showing up with skinned knees. She hated the finger exercises I assigned, but soon enough she made friends with the piano. By the time she met your daddy, she had received a scholarship to attend a music conservatory."
Martina felt as if she'd traveled across a desert and found a fountain of the sweetest water on earth. She'd known so little of her mother because her father hadn't wanted to speak of her, and her brothers only knew what little they remembered.
"Did she go?" she asked. "Did she go to the conservatory?"
Mrs. Lowry shook her head. "No. Your daddy bought her a piano and she was as crazy about him as she was her music. When the babies started coming, she was crazy about them, too."
Martina's throat grew tight. "I really don't know if I have any musical ability, but even if I can't learn to play, I would love for you to tell me about my mother."
Mrs. Lowry's eyes softened. "Now don't you worry. I've taught kids who were tone deaf." She patted Martina on the shoulder. "And I'll be happy to tell you all kinds of stories about your mother."
Martina glanced up to find Noah, but he was gone from the room. She needed to talk to him. She needed to thank him. But how could she possibly?
"We really should begin, dear," Mrs. Lowry said.
Martina blinked. "Begin what?"
"Your first lesson, of course. Let's start with middle C. It's right here," she said, hitting a key. "Now, the proper position for your hands is…"
Martina gamely tried to accept instruction from Mrs. Lowry, but her head was in a whirl. In the past thirty minutes, Noah had delivered one surprise after another. And now, heaven help her, she was attempting to learn to play the piano. Another thirty minutes passed and Mrs. Lowry left, and Martina was staring at the beautiful piano.
"How'd it go?"
Her jaw worked, but no sound came out. She took a calming breath. "I don't know. I may not have my mother's patience with this. Then again, I don't have much patience with anything." She stared at him. He was leaning casually against the doorjamb as if he hadn't just given her a miracle. "Where did you find her?"
"I've known Mrs. Lowry for a long time. I used to cut her lawn. She was one of the few people who gave one of those bad Coltrane boys a chance. When I saw your mother's piano the other day, though, it clicked that Mrs. Lowry might have known her. I gave her a call this morning and…" He shrugged.
She stood and walked toward him. "Do you have any idea what you've given me?"
"A big piano," he said.
She closed her eyes and her heart just overflowed, and so did her tears.
Noah made a sound of alarm and pulled her against him. "Mrs. Lowry didn't smack your fingers with a ruler when you hit a wrong note or something, did she?"
"No," Martina said, laughing through her tears at the ridiculous notion. "She's the kindest woman." Martina shook her head and met his gaze. "Noah, don't you realize you've just given me a piece of my mother? A piece of her I would never have known without you? I just…" Her voice broke and she sobbed.
Noah winced. "Are you sure this is good?"
"Yes!" she wailed.
"Okay," he said in a doubtful voice, and held her as she cried. No one had ever given her such a gift. Although he'd captured pieces of her heart when he gave her little things for the baby, this gift was truly just for her. She would never be the same because of it, and she would never feel the same toward Noah because of it.
"I hate to see you cry," he muttered into her hair.
"I hate to see me cry, too," she said ruefully, and sniffed. "But if there's such a thing as a good cry, this is it."
"Maybe Jonathan was right, after all," he said more to himself than to her.
"Jonathan?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I'll tell you about it another time. Now I need…"
"…for me to kiss you," she said, lifting her mouth to his.
His arms tightened around her. "Something I always need."
Martina kissed him with all the feelings in her heart, all the joy and sorrow for her mother, all the love and desire she had for him.
Through the haze of that long, searching, scorching, wanting, needing kiss, Martina heard the sound of an exaggerated cough. Noah reluctantly drew away and Martina saw all three of his brothers standing in the hall and staring.
"I take it she liked the piano," Jonathan said with a devious grin.
"Don't y'all have anything better to do than watch me?" Noah asked.
Arms crossed over his chest, Gideon looked at Adam. Chugging a canned soda, Adam looked at Jonathan, who grinned hugely. Then all three of their gazes connected with Noah's. "No," they said in cheerful unison.
Noah groaned. "Let's go," he said, urging Martina toward the front door.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"For a walk."
He led her a short distance away from the house to a small stand of trees where they could enjoy the shade. He tugged her down in the grass to sit between his legs. Martina had the strong, undeniable feeling that she was where she belonged. Not wanting to fight it any longer, she turned in his arms. "You have made it very difficult for me to leave," she told him.
"How?" he asked, his gaze intent.
"By the way you…" She hesitated, not wanting to use the word love because he hadn't said he loved her. The knowledge still pinched a vulnerable place deep inside her. But she had never received a more loving gift than what Noah had given her this afternoon. "By the way you care for me."
He ran his hands through her hair and down her arms as if discovering her for the first time. "I will always make it difficult for you to leave," he said, lifting her shirt and baring her pregnant belly to the sun. "Always."
By unspoken agreement, there was no talk of leaving that night, and Noah breathed easier than he had for days. He pushed asi
de the niggle of discomfort that everything could fall apart in an instant and simply inhaled Martina.
They took their dinner upstairs in his bedroom away from the prying eyes of his brothers. Tonight he didn't want to share. Noah allowed himself to drown in her blue, blue eyes. He drank in her laughter and couldn't stop touching her.
When he read the next chapter of The Hobbit, he persuaded her to lift her shirt so he could read against her tummy.
She laughed. "Your voice is vibrating against my skin."
Her laughter was such a turn-on he had a tough time focusing on the story. "I'm giving you a buzz?" he asked, meeting her gaze and wondering how one woman could be so seductive.
"Yeah, you are," she said, the expression in her eyes cranking up his internal temperature.
Noah resisted the urge to toss the book and dive into her. Barely. By the last few paragraphs he was stealing kisses at the end of every other sentence. The book slid to the floor as he rubbed his hands over her belly and felt the movements of the child they'd made.
Martina drew back breathlessly. "I do not understand your fascination with my belly."
"Well, you should," he said, taking her mouth and taunting both of them. "There's a little bit of me and you in there, and it's incredibly sexy knowing I helped put her there."
"Him," she corrected, sliding her hands over his shoulders and chest.
"Her," he argued, removing her shirt in one smooth motion. "I'm fascinated with more than your belly." He unhooked her bra and lowered his head to her breast. Her soft gasp was an intimate velvet stroke. He cupped the turgid peak of her nipple with his tongue, savoring the sensation of her delicate arousal.
He undressed her and dragged his tongue down her belly to her feminine secrets.
"What are you doing?" she asked in a shocked whisper, then, "Omi … ohhh."
He gently took her with his mouth until she was crying out his name. The sound of his name on her lips made him so hard he wondered if he would burst. Moving back up her body, he kissed her and she slid her hand to his erection to stroke him.
Noah sucked in a sharp breath at the pleasure/pain sensation. He tried to still her hands. "You're going to make it hard for me to—"
