DADDY BY CHOICE

by Paula Detmer Riggs

Madelyn blinked. "Stopped him how?"

  "Gave him one of them karate kicks right in the jewels, if you take my meaning. Was months before he'd speak to me." Buck shot another glance behind him. "See, the thing is, it wasn't his wallet he was trying to hang on to, but what he had in it. Not that he explained, you understand, but him and me bunked together a coupla times, and sometimes late at night when he thought I was sleeping, he'd take out that red ribbon of yours and run it through his fingers real slow-like."

  Madelyn's breath caught. "Oh, Buck," she whispered.

  He reached across the table to squeeze her hand. "Luke was real good to me when I lost my leg. Lent me money with no interest until I could get my bearings." His mouth compressed. "Tonight's the first time I've seen him look happy since you two busted up."

  Madelyn glanced down at the ice melting in her club soda. "If I ask you something, will you be honest with me, Buck? Even if you think the answer will hurt me?"

  "I will." His formal tone surprised her, but perhaps it shouldn't. Even the roughest cowboy had a vein of old-fashioned courtliness in him.

  She took a breath. "In all those drunken nights you two spent together, did Luke ever once tell you that he loved me?"

  Buck looked down, his body language a perfect example of reluctance. "No, ma'am, can't rightly say he did." He looked up again, his eyes pleading with her over the flickering candle. "But that's only because he's a real private person, you know? On account of him growing up pretty much on his own after his mama took off."

  She nodded at what he said.

  Clearly relieved that he'd smoothed over a rough patch, Buck offered her another earnest smile. "If anyone deserves a second chance, Madelyn, it's him."

  * * *

  The big antique clock in the dining room was six minutes fast, Luke noted as he walked past, his stomach rumbling at the smell of frying bacon. While he'd been shaving, she'd started breakfast.

  Last night was the first time since they'd become lovers again that they'd slept together in the same bed without making love. She'd wanted to, but it had been a long busy day and her eyelids kept drooping. So he'd simply tucked her against his chest and turned out the light.

  It was getting to be a habit, falling asleep with her soft round body draped over him. Twice during the night, he'd jerked awake, his heart racing and his mind alert, only to realize the baby was awake and restless.

  Today marked the beginning of her last final month, and he was taking her shopping for baby clothes. And maybe, if he could manage it, a cradle.

  She was standing at the sink talking on the phone when he entered the kitchen. Precious looked up from her dish to give him a polite meow. Grinning at the spoiled kitty, he reached into the cupboard for a mug.

  As she took a step backward to give him access to the coffeepot he noticed that her face was flushed and her eyes seethed with anger.

  "Can't we sue for breach of contract or something?" Her frown deepened as she listened to the reply. After filling his cup, Luke leaned back against the counter and sipped. She'd changed since coming to Oregon, he realized. Not just physically, but emotionally.

  "Well, do what you can, and in the meantime, I'll think about the options you outlined," she said before ending the conversation.

  After returning the portable phone to the charger, she shifted her gaze his way and tried to smile. "That was my attorney. It seems Wiley has decided he wants the house."

  Luke kept his anger tucked in tight. According to Dr. Morrow, Foster had stopped his campaign of innuendo and sly hints. "I thought he signed the settlement agreement."

  "He did, but now he's claiming he signed under emotional duress." Her eyes flashed. "He has the nerve to claim he was so upset about losing his son he wasn't thinking straight."

  She walked to the fridge and jerked it open, then slammed it shut so hard the trivets on the wall rattled. "How dare he?" she shouted before whirling around to glare at him.

  "Say the word, honey, and I'm on the next plane to Texas. Five minutes alone with that son of a bitch and I guarantee he'll swear to bein' the hind end of a polecat, if that's what you want."

  She stuttered a laugh. "Careful, cowboy, I might just take you up on that."

  He put down his mug and drew her into his arms. Maybe in a thousand years of holding her he might take the wonder of her for granted. "What's your attorney say?"

  "He's not optimistic. Wiley's attorney is a former circuit judge, and even though he's retired, he wields a lot of influence over his fellow jurists. Jorge thinks Wiley has a good chance of winning his case and wants to see if he'll agree to let me buy him out for half the appraised value." Sighing, she rested her cheek against Luke's shoulder. "I must have been out of my mind to marry that man."

  He stroked her hair and watched the sunshine ripple. "Why did you?"

  "Mostly because Mama and Daddy approved of him. Daddy kept saying Wiley would make me respectable again."

  It was tempting to dump his anger on a man he'd come to detest. Too tempting. "Let him have the damn house, Maddy. Stay here and marry me. Now, today, or as soon as we can get a license. Let me take care of you and the baby."

  Her jaw dropped and for an instant her eyes were blank with shock. Then they turned wary. "That's very generous of you." Her voice was unnaturally calm and he started to sweat.

  "It's not generous at all, Maddy. In fact, it's damned selfish, but I can't seem to help it." He took a breath and felt pressure grind in his chest. "I love you, Maddy. I'm so in love with you I came close to violating an oath that I revere because I couldn't keep away from you."

  She bit her lip, then shook her head. "No, you're just telling yourself you love me because you feel sorry for me."

  "The hell I do!" His voice came out too harsh and too loud. Disgusted with himself, he took her hand and balanced it on his. It was her left, he realized. The one he desperately wanted to see wearing his ring as soon as possible.

  "I feel a lot of things for you, Maddy. Some I can tell you, some that have no words. But one thing I don't feel is pity or sympathy or whatever it is that's got your back up."

  "If you love me, why haven't you said so before now?" It was a fair question, one he didn't want to answer.

  "I pushed you too hard too fast the last time. So this time I was giving you time to get to know me. But that doesn't mean I don't want a lifetime with you." A hole opened in his gut. It was the same feeling he'd had an instant before he'd lost his seat and crashed into the dirt.

  "Even Buck said you were eaten up with guilt."

  He frowned. "What's Buck got to do with this?"

  "He told me about my ribbon. How you nearly died trying to get it back."

  He ground his teeth. "Doesn't that prove how much I love you?"

  "No, it only proves you're superstitious."

  He smiled because she expected it. "When I finally read your letter telling me you were pregnant, it nearly sent me to the floor. It was like I'd been kicked so hard I just disappeared." He hated remembering, which was why he wouldn't let himself forget. "I don't have any memory of leaving the house or saddling Cochise. I must have, though, because next thing I knew I was racing the wind out on the mesa. It was panic I was feeling then. Panic that I'd messed up and couldn't make things right."

  Smiling, she played with the button on his shirt. "I was terrified at the very thought of being a mother. It felt like I'd just stopped playing with dolls, and all of a sudden I was about to have a real live baby to take care of."

  He tightened his arm and inhaled the scent of her hair. It made him think of butterflies and lazy days by the river. "Driving back to Texas, I kept thinking how ignorant I was and how much I wanted to make you and your little one proud of me." His mouth twisted. "Selfish bastard that I am, all I could think about was how you and the baby would be in the stands cheerin' me on when I won Grand Champion."

  A bittersweet smile played over Madelyn's lips as she imagined herself standing in the middle of a cheering crowd, her l
ittle girl dressed in a frilly dress with a pink ribbon in her hair, laughing out of Luke's eyes at her as her daddy took a bow. Something lovely and warm wrapped around her heart, as healing as a hug. "Don't forget the stomping and whistling," she said.

  "You sure could split the air, that's a fact."

  "My brother taught me, then got mad as the devil because mine was louder."

  "Oh, yeah, I sure remember that whistle of yours." He lifted a hand to smooth her hair away from her face, letting his fingers linger on her cheek. "I do love you, Maddy. And I love your baby. I'd prove it to you if I could, but so far I haven't come up with a surefire plan."

  She huffed a little laugh. "I know you think you love me. I think I love you. If it were just me, I'd be dragging you to the altar as we speak. But I have the baby to consider. What if we're only fooling ourselves? What if it doesn't work out?" Her eyes turned bleak. "I grew up with parents who never should have gotten married. I'm not sure why they stayed together, but their constant battles made my brother's and my life miserable."

  His gut tightened. He knew what it was like to grow up listening to his parents spill venom on each other. He knew how it hurt when he found out he was the reason they'd gotten married. A damned accident was the way his old man had put it. "It won't be that way with us, Maddy."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because in twenty-two years I never stopped thinking about you."

  "But maybe that's because we're like survivors of some kind of disaster. What we shared, knowing we'd created a child we would never be allowed to raise or even see again has bonded us in ways we might not even suspect." She took a breath. "Maybe it is love. Or maybe we tell ourselves it is because then what we did doesn't seem quite so selfish."

  "Bull! You don't have a selfish bone in your body."

  "I'm not so sure about that," she said with a shaky laugh before turning away to pour herself a cup of coffee.

  She sipped, then turned back. "Most of the studies I've read say that a woman never forgets the first man she loves, especially if it ends badly. In many ways it—well, let's call it a broken heart—can keep her from bonding with another man. In my case I think Wiley had a lot to do with that, but … maybe not."

  "Sounds like a lot of psychobabble to me." Frustration made his voice sharp, earning him a startled look. Because he wanted to shake her, he refilled his cup and held it with both hands.

  "No, it's true," she said. "I've never forgotten you, though God knows I tried. Seeing you now, the man you've become, has opened a lot of doors I thought I'd sealed shut. I need to know for my own peace of mind how I really feel."

  "So you can move on to another guy someday?"

  She took a breath, then nodded, her gaze steady on his. "It's possible, yes. Right now I just want time to make sure what we feel is real and not some mix of guilt and sex and … fantasy."

  Fantasy, hell, Luke thought as anger surged. He'd just told her he loved her. Not once had he ever come close to saying those words to a woman. Maybe that didn't rate a brass band to her, but it was pretty damned important to him, and he sure as hell didn't like being told he was suffering from delusions or posttraumatic stress. But maybe she was, he realized suddenly.

  "I promised myself I'd let you set the pace this time. So I will. Only there's just this one little thing we need to get straight right off."

  She frowned. "What's that?"

  "That offer of marriage—it's a one-time deal. If you turn me down, I won't ask again."

  Surprise was still settling in her eyes when he set his cup down on the counter with a hard crack and walked out.

  * * *

  Chapter 16

  « ^ »

  Alone in the small cubbyhole off the ICU nurses' station, Luke dry-swallowed two heavy-duty Tylenol tablets, then chased them down with a swallow of stale coffee. It was a few minutes before nine on a hot sunny Saturday morning, and his head was thick with exhaustion.

  He hated emergency C-sections about as much as he hated thinking about his past sins. Too many times the choice came down to saving the mom or the baby, sometimes with only minutes or even seconds to make that choice. This time, though, it looked like both Marla Hanson and her tiny red-haired daughter would make it. Still shaken, Paul Hanson was sneaking rye shooters from the flask he'd tucked into his wife's suitcase.

  Damn good idea, Luke thought, giving in to a yawn before flexing his aching shoulders.

  As soon as he mustered up the energy, he intended to take himself home for a hot bath and a day's sleep. Five minutes later he was still working up the energy when Boyd ambled in, his scrubs equally sweat-stained from his long hours in the OR. "Any coffee left?"

  "Enough for a mild buzz."

  Boyd plucked a foam cup from the stack by the coffee machine and emptied the pot. Then he leaned back against the counter, crossed his ankles and sipped.

  "Can't say as I've ever seen quite that particular shade of gray on someone's face before," he said, eyeing Luke over the rim of his cup.

  Though it cost him, Luke stood a little straighter. "Then you haven't taken a good look at yourself after one of those marathon sessions you put in."

  Boyd snorted. "At least wear your brace." It was an old argument. "You ever try performing a section wearing a straitjacket?"

  "Ever try performing a section flat on your back in traction, 'cause that's where you're heading, hotshot."

  "Get stuffed, MacAuley."

  "Don't say I didn't warn you." Boyd took another sip of his coffee, his shoulders drooping with the same exhaustion Luke felt throbbing in his own.

  "Just talked to Stace. Apparently there's been a change of plan. You're supposed to have Maddy at our place at one next Sunday, instead of two."

  "Tell her to call Dorie so she can make the change on my calendar."

  Boyd shook his head. "How the hell did you get through med school without a good memory?"

  "Wrote my class schedule on my arm every morning." He shifted his weight onto his right leg, hoping the tingling in the left didn't escalate into numbness. "This baby-shower thing, am I supposed to bring a present or what?"

  "The women bring presents, the guys watch the kids. Case figures we can plop 'em down in front of the new big-screen TV Prue got him for his birthday with a bunch of videos and still get in a few hands of poker."

  "Is Pax back from New York?"

  Boyd laughed. "Yeah, the designated pigeon will be there."

  "Have to admit that brightens my spirits some. The man just can't help throwing away his money."

  Boyd flexed his shoulders, winced as the stiff muscles protested. "You might as well know the ladies are hoping for a wedding."

  "Maddy's not looking for marriage. She's looking for closure."

  "What the hell's that mean?"

  "Best as I can make out, she wants to spend time with me to prove she was right when she kicked me out of her life."

  "You gonna let her do that?"

  "I don't see I have any right to stop her."

  "Even if you're in love with her?"

  His jaw went hard. "Maybe you didn't hear me, MacAuley. The lady isn't looking for a husband. She's into her freedom."

  "Raine didn't want Pax, either. He changed her mind."

  "Yeah, well, he already had a foot in the door. I'm not even on the property."

  Boyd lifted a brow. "Guess you just stopped by for breakfast the other morning when I happened to see your Cherokee parked out front of her place."

  "What can I say? She likes my body." Luke flexed his tired shoulders. "Hell, I'm nothin' but a damned sex object."

  Boyd had the gall to grin. "Seems to me a man could do worse than have a woman like Madelyn lusting over him."

  Luke allowed himself a moment to grieve for what might have been before pouring the last of his coffee down his throat. "I'm outta here," he said, dropping his cup into the trash.

  "Don't forget the shower."

  "Tell Stace I'll have her there on time. Two o'clo
ck a week from Sunday."

  Boyd groaned. "I'll tell her to call Dorie," he said as they left the cubicle together.

  * * *

  Feeling lethargic even though she'd been out of bed for a few hours, Madelyn was tucked up in a corner of the fainting bench reading when the doorbell rang. She wasn't expecting Luke until tonight, but he was the only one who used her front door. Her pulse quickened as she struggled to her feet, then fluffed her hair before going to the door and opening it.

  Disappointment ran through her when she saw that her unexpected visitor was a stranger, a thin pale young woman in ragged jeans and a faded Cowboys T-shirt. Taller than Madelyn by several inches, she had masses of dark curly hair so thick it overpowered her features and bony shoulders, which seemed bent by a burden too heavy to bear. For a frozen instant Madelyn saw herself in this sad waif and wanted to weep.

  "May I help you?" she asked, deliberately warming her smile.

  "I hope so, ma'am. I'm looking for Mrs. Madelyn Foster." The drawl was pure Texan, and Madelyn's curiosity sharpened. A friend of a friend perhaps? The rust-bucket Chevy pickup parked at the curb led her to believe the girl needed help.

  "I'm Madelyn Foster."

  She noticed the girl's eyes then, vivid bluebonnet eyes framed by inky black lashes. Madelyn's breath jammed in her throat, then came out in a rush. Oh God, oh God, oh God…

  "Jenny?" Her voice was little more than a wisp of sound.

  That too-thin face closed up, and those beautiful hauntingly familiar eyes rejected love even before it was offered. "My name's Tricia. Tricia Wilson." Her gaze flickered, then turned distant. "I found your name in the register of parents willing to make contact. I think you're my biological mother."

  Because her knees seemed to be dissolving, Madelyn groped for the doorknob and held on tight. "Oh, honey, I'm so glad you found me! I promised not to look for you, but I thought, if you wanted to find me someday … and you did!" Flustered, she forced strength into her wobbly legs. "Please, come in."

  She stepped back, terrified the girl would change her mind and leave. Entering warily, Tricia glanced around. For an instant she looked exactly like Luke the first time he'd laid eyes on Harriet's treasures.