Dakota Home

by Debbie Macomber

  The knock at her door startled her. People rarely came to the house, and were even less likely to come at night. Looking through the peephole in her back door, she saw Jeb standing on the porch.

  Maddy frowned, unsure what to do.

  Jeb knocked again, more loudly this time.

  It didn’t appear that he’d be easily dissuaded, so she opened the inner door—but kept the storm door closed. Heaving a sigh, she crossed her arms, waiting for him to explain his presence.

  “Hello, Maddy, sweetheart,” he said, slurring his words. He smiled as if he were the happiest man on earth.

  “You’re drunk!” She was outraged and half-tempted to slam the door in his face.

  “Damn right I am. Good and drunk. So drunk even Buffalo Bob won’t sell me any more booze.” He placed his palm against the glass door as if he needed to hold himself upright. “He took my keys away. You going to let me in?”

  “Ah…”

  “Come on, let me in,” he cajoled with an engaging smile. “No need to worry. I’m a happy drunk.”

  “That’s no reassurance of anything,” she muttered as she held open the outer door.

  He staggered into the house, smelling of beer, then paused to look at her. He lifted his hand to her cheek. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come in here and sit down while I make a pot of coffee.” Taking his hand, she led him into the living room.

  “I don’t need coffee,” he said, falling into the chair. He tried to grab her waist and pull her down to him, but she stepped aside.

  “You need coffee. Don’t argue with me.”

  “Arguing is the last thing I have in mind,” he called after her as she hurried into the kitchen.

  This was the first time in months they weren’t arguing—because he was drunk. When the coffee finished brewing, she poured him a large mug. Remembering that he took it with sugar, she added an extra heaping teaspoon.

  “Did you eat dinner?” she asked, and handed him the steaming mug.

  He blew on it. “Yes, ma’am, did you?”

  “I did.” She claimed the sofa, a safe distance from him, and gazed at him avidly. Drunk or otherwise, he looked damn wonderful. It felt so good not to argue for once, not to be so on edge with each other.

  “Stand up,” he ordered suddenly, putting his cup down on the nearby table and sloshing a little coffee.

  “Stand up?” she repeated.

  “Please.”

  Although the request made no sense, she did as he asked.

  “I’m trying to see if you look pregnant yet,” he said, staring at her from various angles. “You don’t.” He sounded disappointed.

  “The baby’s moving now,” she told him, flattening her palm against her abdomen. “All the time.”

  He leaned forward expectantly. “You can feel him…or her?”

  Maddy nodded. “It’s the most incredible sensation. Kind of a fluttering. I knew it had to be my baby, and on my last doctor’s visit, he said the timing was about right.”

  Leaning back again, Jeb closed his eyes. “You feeling well?”

  She nodded.

  “You need anything?”

  “No.”

  He looked away. “I should get out of here,” he muttered.

  Maddy wanted him to stay, to sleep it off. That way she’d know he was safe—and maybe they could talk in the morning.

  “Earlier,” he said, sounding unlike himself, “Merrily brought in her little boy to tell Buffalo Bob good night.” He paused and exhaled sharply, as if he felt an unexpected pain. “The little boy…can’t remember his name…put his arms around Bob’s neck. Called him Daddy.”

  Maddy had met Axel, and had only recently come to know Merrily as more than an acquaintance. There’d been some talk about the child, speculation about where he’d come from. Folks wondered where she’d been keeping him all this time. Some claimed he wasn’t hers, but she certainly acted like his mother. Her care, her devotion to him, were unmistakable.

  “I’ll go now,” Jeb said, lurching to his feet.

  “You can’t drive,” she said. “Besides, Bob has your keys.”

  “True, but…” He raised his index finger, stumbled and fell back into the chair.

  “You can spend the night here.” Then, wanting to be sure he understood her offer, she added, “I have a guest room.”

  It took him a long time to decide. “I should go, but you’re right. Anyway, there aren’t any extra beds at my dad’s place.” He didn’t add that he and his father had barely spoken since Joshua learned of the pregnancy. Maddy knew this from what Sarah had told her.

  “Stay here, Jeb,” she said again.

  “Could get a room at 3 OF A KIND.”

  “That’s not necessary. Come on, I’ll show you where you’re going to sleep,” Maddy said.

  He rose awkwardly to his feet and followed her down the hallway to the bedrooms.

  Maddy was halfway to the second bedroom when he stopped her, catching her hand. Surprised, she glanced up at him and instantly knew she’d made a mistake. He wanted to make love to her. A look of such undisguised longing came over him that her breath caught deep in her throat.

  Slowly, as if waiting for Maddy to object, he pulled her to him. Locking his arms around her waist, he drew her close, so close she felt his whole body pressing against her. He wanted her, all right, and there was no hiding the evidence.

  “Jeb…”

  “Shh, let me kiss you. Be mad at me in the morning…all I need is one kiss.” Even as he spoke, he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Maddy tried to avoid him, but he was too fast. His mouth covered hers and it seemed as if his lips seared her with their heat. If all he wanted was one kiss, he was obviously intent on making it memorable. Her tongue met his with soft, welcoming touches as her knees went weak.

  “Jeb, no,” she whispered. “Not like this—not when you’re drunk.”

  “You’re right,” he moaned. “I know you’re right.” But still he kissed her. He pinned her hands to the wall with his own, holding her prisoner. Again and again he kissed her, each kiss hungry, hard, as if it were the last one he’d ever have.

  He slid his palm beneath her sweater and closed his hand over her breast. Because of the pregnancy, her breasts were ultra-sensitive and she gave a small cry as her nipples throbbed with pain as much as pleasure.

  At her cry, he jerked his head up, dragged in a deep breath.

  In an effort to think straight, Maddy buried her face in his shoulder. Then kissed his throat, his jaw.

  Jeb groaned.

  “We have to stop,” she whispered. If they made love she didn’t want to wake with regrets. But she freed his shirt and let her hands roam over his muscular back, loving the firm, silky feel of his skin.

  Jeb groaned again and then he was kissing her and she was letting him. Encouraging him. This was so much better than fighting, so much better than anything that had happened since the blizzard.

  They stumbled into the darkened bedroom and Jeb lost his balance. Together they crashed onto the hard floor. Jeb twisted so that he took the brunt of the fall. After a second of shocked silence, he cursed, gritting his teeth.

  Maddy lifted her head. “Your leg…”

  He rolled away from her.

  “Jeb?”

  “It’s all right,” he grunted.

  “What should I do?” she cried, frantic now because he was in such obvious pain.

  “Dammit to hell, just leave me alone!”

  He was constantly ordering her out of his life. “You need me,” she cried, angry and hurt by his rejection.

  “What I need is to get away from you,” he snapped. “This isn’t a good idea….” He struggled into an upright position, but apparently the effects of the alcohol were too much and he leaned against his hands, unable to sit upright without supporting himself. He exhaled a harsh breath and muttered another curse.

  Maddy fled from the room, not letting him see how deep
ly his rejection had wounded her. She left him to stand up on his own, knowing he wouldn’t want her there to witness his struggle.

  Turning off the lights, she changed into her nightgown and readied the house for the night. She was on her way to her own room when he called her. He was on the bed now, watching, waiting for her.

  “Maddy…come back. Sleep with me.”

  Except for the hall light, the house was dark. She stood in the bedroom doorway and waited for her eyes to adjust.

  “I thought you didn’t need me,” she said, trying to seem flippant.

  “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  “Then how did you mean it?”

  “Oh, hell, I didn’t mean it at all. Sleep here with me. If you don’t want me to, I won’t touch you. I’m drunk, anyway, too damn drunk…The room won’t keep still.”

  “Do you need help with the prosthesis?”

  “No,” he growled.

  She could tell from the way he responded that he resented her even asking.

  “I want you close to me, just for tonight,” he muttered. “Indulge me.”

  She hesitated. Then, because she couldn’t deny him any more than she could herself, she walked from the door to the bed. He shifted to give her more space, and she climbed between the covers.

  Jeb placed his hand against the slight mound of her abdomen. “It’s your daddy,” he whispered, talking to the baby. “Good night, Baby McKenna.”

  She thought to remind him that her baby was a Washburn, but by the time she opened her mouth, Jeb was asleep, his breathing deep and even. It took her only minutes to follow him into slumber.

  More than once during the night, she woke, and her heart gladdened instantly when she found herself cuddled close to his side. She felt an immediate sense of peace and fell directly back to sleep each time.

  In the morning, Jeb was gone. Without a word of farewell.

  Fifteen

  Jeb had seldom felt like a bigger fool than the morning he woke with a bitch of a hangover in Maddy’s bed. He didn’t remember much of what had happened the night he spent with her. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise. In the two weeks since, he’d obsessed over that evening, doing his best to relive those all-too-brief hours they’d been together.

  He’d come to Buffalo Valley on some ridiculous pretext of discussing vitamins with Hassie—something he could easily have done by phone. He admitted that his real reason for coming to town was Maddy. Still, he felt he needed an excuse, no matter how weak it was.

  On the drive to Buffalo Valley, he’d become more and more depressed. Ever since he’d learned of Maddy’s pregnancy, he could think of little else. He had no one to talk to about this; he and his father were barely speaking and Sarah had remained stoically silent. He didn’t feel he could approach Dennis, either, under the present circumstances.

  When he’d arrived in town, he’d abandoned his vitamin quest and headed straight for Buffalo Bob’s, thinking a beer would help him clear his thoughts. What a joke. Drinking had only made things worse, a lesson he intended to remember. One beer had led to another, and before he knew it, five hours had passed and he was sampling the hard stuff. Bob, who’d cut him off and taken his keys, probably would’ve called Sarah to pick him up if Jeb hadn’t implied he’d be spending the night in town.

  When he left 3 OF A KIND, Jeb had intended to walk over to his father’s, but then he found himself pounding on Maddy’s door. It had definitely been a night of intentions gone astray. He shook his head sadly. Every time he tried talking to Maddy, she bristled and made a point of letting him know how much she didn’t need him. Unfortunately, if the conversation that night had been different—which he doubted—he couldn’t recall.

  Another man might have been able to leave the matter of her pregnancy alone, but not Jeb. Everything had changed. His life, tucked in the farthest corner of Buffalo County, would never be the same again. A part of him had recognized it the first time he’d made love to Maddy. But he’d been too stubborn to face it. He’d hurt her, believing that he was doing what was best for both of them. He no longer believed this.

  He didn’t know what craziness had possessed him that drunken night two weeks ago. The liquor had loosened his inhibitions; one of the few things he did remember was kissing her, wanting her with such ferocity he ached just thinking about it. Then he’d passed out. He’d awakened before dawn, suffering from the worst hangover of his life. Deeply embarrassed, Jeb had slunk away, realizing he must have come across like a besotted drunk.

  It’d taken him all this time to scrounge up the courage to talk to her again, to say the things that needed to be said. Two long weeks.

  His only guarantee that she’d come to the ranch was a grocery order. He’d faxed it in early on Wednesday. Thursday morning, he went about his normal chores, and stumbled upon a cow giving birth. Separated from the herd, she’d nestled beneath the shelter of an old cottonwood tree. Bison preferred to be alone when they gave birth, and Jeb knew enough to maintain his distance. They almost never had birthing problems, but Jeb stayed long enough to be sure. When the calf was born, Jeb experienced the same heady excitement he always felt at these times and hurried back to the house, eager to talk to Maddy.

  The last thing he expected when he walked into the kitchen was to find his groceries on the counter. Maddy had already been and gone. Stunned, he sat down, checking his watch. In all the months she’d been delivering groceries, Maddy had always arrived midafternoon. Not this week, obviously.

  Although he hadn’t talked to his nearest neighbor in months, Jeb called the Clemens ranch. To his surprise, Margaret herself answered.

  “Triple C Ranch,” she announced gruffly.

  “Margaret, it’s Jeb McKenna.”

  A pause. “Hello, Jeb. Haven’t talked to you in a month of Sundays.”

  That was true enough. “Has Maddy been by your place yet? Maddy Washburn,” he clarified.

  “Sure has. She just left, otherwise I wouldn’t be in the house myself.”

  “Just left?” Jeb knew she generally came to his ranch afterward. Apparently she’d altered her schedule in an effort to avoid him.

  “I’m not one for giving unsolicited advice,” Margaret continued, “and I sure don’t believe in sticking my nose into someone else’s business.”

  “Good,” Jeb said shortly.

  “But…”

  He should’ve heard it coming.

  “But…I suggest you leave Maddy alone,” Margaret said in a surly voice.

  “What?”

  “You’ve hurt her enough.”

  “She told you about the baby?”

  “Told me?” Margaret repeated with an unfriendly laugh. “That you’re the father, you mean? You obviously don’t know Maddy very well. She didn’t say a word, but then, it isn’t necessary, is it? Anyone with half a brain could figure out she got pregnant during the blizzard and we both know where she was. I wish to God I’d never let her leave that day. More fool me, seeing that you used the opportunity to take advantage of her.”

  “Like you said, it’s not a good idea to stick your nose in other people’s business.” He didn’t want to offend Margaret, but he wasn’t about to let her speak on matters that were none of her concern, either.

  “Maddy Washburn is the sweetest, kindest, gentlest person I’ve ever known. You hurt her again, Jeb McKenna, and you’ll have me to deal with. You understand?”

  “Goodbye, Margaret,” Jeb said, replacing the receiver. He didn’t have the time or the patience to listen to her scolding. If he hurried, maybe he could intercept Maddy on her way back to Buffalo Valley.

  One thing he’d say about Maddy: she certainly inspired loyalty. In all the time Jeb had known Margaret Clemens, he’d never heard her speak this passionately on anyone’s behalf.

  Rushing now, Jeb got inside his truck and gunned the engine. The tires kicked up a dust storm as he barreled out of his dirt driveway and headed west, hoping to catch Maddy before she took the cut
off to town. Luck was with him; he saw the approach of her Bronco and blocked the intersection.

  She eased her vehicle to a stop. They both sat there, staring at each other before Jeb finally opened his door. Maddy followed and they met in the middle of the road, like gunslingers squaring off against each other.

  “Maddy, I need to talk to you.” He saw that she wore a coat but had left it unbuttoned, and he noticed that she still wore regular clothes. But he also noticed that she kept her shirt out of her jeans instead of tucking it in the waistband.

  “Hello, Jeb.” Everything about her was guarded. The way she stood, the way she watched him. It was as though she expected him to hurt her.

  “I thought I’d see you today,” he said awkwardly.

  “You have your order?” she asked. “Is there a problem with it?”

  “No, it’s fine.” He shoved the tips of his fingers inside his jeans pockets.

  “Then what did you want to talk to me about?”

  Damn, she didn’t make this easy. “First, I wanted to apologize for the other night.”

  “The other night was two weeks ago.”

  “I know when it was,” he snapped, suddenly losing patience with her as well as himself. “When I went to your place that night, there were things I wanted to say—and didn’t. Important things…”

  “Yes?” she urged when he didn’t immediately continue.

  “About you and the baby.”

  “All right. What?”

  Her guard was still firmly in place, and feeling as nervous as he did, he found her attitude intimidating. Their entire future, the future of the child they’d created, his role as a father—it all hung in the balance. His biggest fear was that he’d unintentionally say or do something that would insult her. She seemed quick to take offense, and this was too crucial to mess up now.

  “You have to remember that this pregnancy came as a shock to me,” he began.

  “Are you suggesting I purposely set out to get pregnant?”

  “No…no.” He raised his hand. “No, I realize the baby is a surprise to both of us. It happened, and well…it happened.”

  “I’m way past the whys and wherefores of the situation,” she said impatiently.