Rogue's Reform

by Marilyn Pappano

  Could anyone blame her for wanting an easier life now for herself and her baby? For not wanting to take on a man with a reputation every bit as widely known and unaccepted as her father’s? For requiring time and proof that he deserved his place in their lives?

  Ethan certainly didn’t. Placing blame squarely where it belonged was a lesson he’d learned early in life, and where it usually belonged was on him. This situation was no exception.

  Once he’d moved all the baby furniture, he joined Grace in the kitchen. She’d moved the meat loaves onto a serving plate, taken the salad from the refrigerator and was mashing potatoes with cream and real butter. Already more familiar with her kitchen than any other he’d been in, he set the table, then filled two glasses with milk. While he had the refrigerator open, he studied the bottles secured in the door racks. “What’s your favorite salad dressing? We have ranch and…ranch.”

  “Hmm. I think I’ll have ranch.”

  He took both bottles from the shelf. “Your refrigerator’s getting a bit bare. Want to go shopping this evening?” When a cautious look crossed her face, he had to struggle to hide the tightening of his jaw. “I’d wait outside. No one would have to know I was with you.”

  “That’s usually the only time I take the Bug anywhere,” she said, almost succeeding in her attempt to sound casual. “It keeps the battery charged. But thanks, anyway.”

  Yeah. Thanks for nothing.

  Neither of them broke the silence again until they were halfway through the meal. Grace heavily peppered her mashed potatoes, then scooped a forkful but didn’t lift it from her plate. “Where have you lived all these years?”

  Assuming that she was merely making conversation, he shrugged. “Everywhere. Mostly the South and the Southwest. Mostly small towns, but with the occasional city thrown in.”

  “What did you like most about being someplace different all the time?”

  “None of the towns were Heartbreak.”

  “What did you like least about it?” She watched as his expression shifted—he couldn’t help it, try as he might—then softly answered for him. “None of the towns were Heartbreak?”

  He shrugged again. “I used to think I was running away from home, from Mom and Guthrie, from being Gordon James’s kid. And I wasn’t very good at it, because no matter how far I ran, all that stayed with me. It took me a long time to realize that I was running away from me, from who I was, who I wanted to be, who I thought I could never be.”

  After a brief silence, she continued the questions. “What was your favorite place?”

  “New Orleans. Or maybe Miami. New Orleans is a great city, and there’s not much finer than winter in Miami.”

  That made her smile a bit. “Usually Oklahoma winters don’t bother me. We always have plenty of mild days to offset the really cold ones, and I can’t even remember the last time we had a lot of snow. But sometimes, usually in February when I know spring is coming, but it isn’t here yet, I get so tired of cold days and bare trees and yellowed grass. Sometimes I think I’d sell my soul to look out the window and see green, to have bright sunshine and warm breezes and leaves on the trees.”

  “You wouldn’t have to sell your soul. Just your hardware store.”

  “And do what?”

  “Move south. Go to New Orleans or Miami or Key West. Head for the tropics. Have an adventure.”

  She laughed and for that instant looked younger, softer, prettier. Incredibly pretty. “I’m not the adventurous type.”

  “Hey, you let that James boy pick you up in a bar and take you for a wild ride. By anyone’s definition, that’s adventurous.”

  “By most people’s definition, it was foolish.”

  His lighter mood began slipping away. “Because of who I am.”

  “Most people don’t know who you are,” she reminded him. “It’s just that these days it’s not safe to go off with a stranger. Things happen.”

  “Yeah, you might get pregnant.”

  “Or raped, beaten or murdered.”

  “But you knew you were safe with me. You never would have left the bar with me if you hadn’t.”

  “True, but—”

  “You trusted me.”

  “I hardly knew you.”

  “But you trusted me to not do anything more than seduce you. You got naked with me. You shared a bed with me. You turned your back on me and slept beside me. Admit it, Grace,” he said with a cocky grin. “For that one night you trusted me.”

  Her smile was rueful. “So what if I did?”

  “It’s a start, darlin’.” He fiddled with his fork for a moment, then pushed it and the plate away. “When I woke up the next morning and you were gone… All my life I’d been the one to skip out in the middle of the night. I always figured it didn’t matter. We’d done what we’d set out to do, so why bother with goodbyes? But I woke up that morning, and I could smell you on the sheets, on my skin, and I could still taste you and feel you, and I was hard as stone with wanting you…and you were gone. The room was still. The sheets were cold. And I felt cheated. Sorry. I thought I would never see you again, and I really wanted to see you again.” His voice dropped to little more than a hoarse whisper. “I still do.”

  He could see that Grace was flustered. She didn’t know where to look, what to do with her hands or what to say. She settled on gathering their dishes, pretending to focus her attention on them. “Bet you never counted on seeing me like this.” She made a scornful head-to-toe gesture, taking in her swollen belly, then reached for their dishes.

  He caught her hand, holding her close to his side. “You seem to think that being pregnant makes you—”

  “Fat? Awkward? Ungainly?”

  “Less than attractive. But you’re wrong, Grace.” He ignored her disdainful snort. “There’s something oddly appealing about a pregnant woman. Something…I don’t know. Natural. Womanly. Something lovely.”

  “Oh, yes,” she said, her voice equal parts sarcasm and wistful uncertainty. “I’ve gained a ton of weight. I waddle like a duck. I can’t even get up from the sofa without a lot of effort or help from someone, and forget about getting down on the floor for any reason. Of course I feel incredibly lovely these days.”

  “Oh, come on.” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Don’t tell me you aren’t awed by all the changes taking place in your body. Don’t kid me that you don’t marvel over the fact every single day that you’re carrying a baby. Don’t tell me that you’ve ever felt more womanly than you do right now.”

  Still holding a plate in her free hand, she gazed down at him. Behind those damn thick glasses, she looked so serious, so baby-owl intense. “You’re right. I am in awe. I like being pregnant. I like knowing that in a few more weeks, I’m going to have a baby. It means the world to me to know that I’ll have someone to share my life with, someone to love and nurture and teach. And, frankly, it’s a constant reminder that, once upon a time, the handsome, charming, popular jock who dated all the pretty, popular cheerleaders just for one night chose me. I like that, too. But you know what the big difference is, Ethan? I want this baby. I have from the beginning. I see her as a gift to be thankful for, while you see her as an obligation you have no choice but to accept.”

  When she tugged her hand free, he let her. She took his plate and turned toward the sink. He picked up the serving dishes and joined her at the counter. “You’re not being fair, Grace,” he said quietly. “You didn’t give me the chance to want her from the beginning. You found out you were pregnant—when? August? September?—and you never made any effort to tell me.”

  “How could I tell you? I didn’t know where you were!”

  “But you knew where Guthrie was.”

  She rinsed the dishes as if she might scrub the pattern right off. “And what was I supposed to do? Go out to his house and tell him that I was pregnant with his irresponsible brother’s child? You think he would have even believed me?”

  “Of course he would have. He can believe damn near a
nything about me.”

  “And what would he have done? In all the years you’ve been disappearing, he never knew where you were. Everybody said that this time, after what you did to him and Olivia, you probably wouldn’t come back, at least not for years.”

  “Guthrie and Olivia have known where I was since early December, which is beside the point. The point is, Grace, you never told them about the baby. You never asked them if they had a way to contact me. You didn’t want me to know. You didn’t want me to surprise you and want this baby. You wanted to keep her all to yourself.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “No, it’s not.” He reached past her to take the aluminum foil from the cabinet in front of her, then began wrapping the leftover meat loaf. “And it’s understandable. Because of your background, this baby is even more important to you than it would be under normal circumstances. You want everything to be perfect for her. You would have been better off without your father, and because of my background, you thought she would be better off without hers. As an added benefit, you would get all her love for yourself. You wouldn’t have to share her with anyone.”

  “That’s not true,” she protested, but weakly, because they both knew it was.

  “What if Olivia hadn’t guessed? You would have raised our daughter completely alone. Just minutes away she would have had an aunt, an uncle and cousins who would have adored her, but you would have denied her that. You know how important the love and support of a family are, but you would have kept them from her.”

  “I couldn’t tell them,” Grace murmured stiffly. “I couldn’t tell anyone.”

  “Why not?”

  She filled the sink with hot, sudsy water, then began washing dishes. His first impulse was the offer to do them for her, but he suspected she needed something to do to make the conversation easier. Instead, he leaned against the counter and watched her.

  “When it first became common knowledge that I was pregnant, the question of who the father was became common gossip. Everyone had their ideas. Some people rightly assumed it must be a stranger I met in a bar, since no one local could possibly be interested and, obviously, a sober man wouldn’t waste his time with me. Some wondered if the unlucky guy had been the loser in some sort of hazing or bet. Some people even wondered if—if it could be…if it was possible…” She drew a deep breath and blurted it out. “Some people wondered if my father was the father.”

  Ethan’s jaw tightened. “I’m sorry.”

  “Nobody thought for a minute that any normal man could look at me and think, ‘Hey, I’d like to have sex with her.’ Not plain, shy, mousy little Grace. If I’d told them it was you, they never would have believed me. Even your brother, who can believe damn near anything about you, wouldn’t have believed that you’d slept with me.”

  “You’re wrong, Grace. People think more highly of you than that. As for people who gossip about you where you can overhear, they don’t have any opinions worth voicing in the first place.” Judging by the sad look on her face, his words had done nothing to sway her. He tried again. “Olivia and Shay had no problem believing that you and I had been together. As for everyone else, if you’d give me half a chance… Oh, hell.”

  Closing the distance between them, he slid one arm around her waist, pulled her up snug against him and kissed her full on the mouth. Unlike her earlier kiss, there was nothing hesitant or innocent about his. He coaxed her lips apart, then her teeth, and slid his tongue inside her mouth, and the memories from last summer came flooding back. Of heat, hunger, fevered passion, greed. Her body so soft and pliant beneath his. His husky encouragement. Her desperate pleas. Their incredible connection.

  He drew her closer and realized with a jolt that he was aroused. Holding her tighter, he lifted her against him and wished he had the right to take her upstairs and make love to her just one more time. But once more would only make him want a dozen more, and it would do nothing to convince her that, though he had some ambivalence, he wanted to be a father to her baby. He wasn’t even sure it would convince her that he wanted her. She had so many doubts, so many insecurities. It might take years to convince her that she was a woman worth wanting.

  Lucky for him, he thought as he ended the kiss in a half-dozen smaller, sweeter kisses, he had all the time she could need.

  In fact, he had a lifetime.

  Chapter 8

  That kiss stayed with Grace through the rest of the week. It got her through the long hours at the store and kept her warm through the long dark hours of the nights. It made her feel incredulous. Stunned. Even the littlest bit desirable.

  Right, her practical nature scoffed. She was seven months’ pregnant, twenty-five pounds heavier. If no man had ever found her desirable before she got pregnant, what were the odds any man would now?

  But one man had, a tiny voice reminded her. As he’d pointed out, she and Melissa were one and the same. Maybe her hair, makeup and clothing had been different, but it was her he’d danced with, made love with. It was very definitely her he’d kissed.

  She was alone in the store on Saturday afternoon while Ethan was at her house. Now that the paint job in her father’s room—in her new room—was done, he’d gotten an old friend of his, a cowboy they’d both gone to school with, to help him move some of the years’ accumulation of furniture and junk from her house. The junk was going to the landfill outside of town, the furniture to an antique store-flea market in Buffalo Plains.

  She had already arranged a trade with the owner for a new bedroom set, a simple Shaker set that was in good shape and was old enough to appeal to her, but not so fine or so antique to make it valuable. On their trip to Tulsa the next day, she planned to splurge on new bedding and to move into her new room that night.

  Then Ethan would start the job of converting her childhood room into a nursery for Annie. She could hardly wait to see the finished product.

  And then what would she do to keep him coming around?

  The arrival of customers saved her from having to consider the question at length. She eased to her feet and went to the counter to greet—oh, wonderful—the Harrises. Not just Olivia who knew her secret, or Guthrie who didn’t, but the whole family.

  One of the twins skipped right up to the counter and offered a broad grin. “Hey.”

  “Hello.”

  “I seen you at church sometimes. I’m Elly Harris, and I’ve got an almost identical twin sister named Emma. Who’re you?”

  “I’m Grace Prescott.”

  “When’s your baby due?”

  “At the end of March.”

  “My mom’s gonna have a baby brother for us at the end of this month, and we’re gonna name him after our daddy’s daddy, but we’re not gonna call ’im that, on account of Mama says no baby boy should have to answer to Vernon. What’re you gonna name yours?”

  “Seth, if it’s a boy.”

  “What if it’s a girl?”

  “Annie.” Grace’s smile was private and sweet. That was the first time she’d said the name out loud since she’d decided to use it, but already in her heart and mind it was too familiar to consider anything else. Maybe just Annie or maybe, as Ethan had suggested, Annie Grace, but definitely Annie.

  “I guess them’s pretty good names,” Elly announced as her mother and sister joined her.

  “Oh, gee, lucky you, you’ve got Elly Harris’s vote of approval. We’re still struggling with names around our house.” Olivia ruffled her daughter’s hair. “You girls go help your daddy find whatever it is he’s looking for, will you?”

  Grace watched them go, then became aware of Olivia’s steady gaze. Her face growing warm, she finally looked at her.

  “How’s it going?” Olivia asked softly.

  “O-okay.”

  “I realize I should have talked to you before getting in touch with Ethan, but… My first husband wasn’t much of a father. He thought if he provided the kids a place to live and food to eat, then he’d lived up to his end of the bargain. But with
this pregnancy, I’ve seen how different things can be—how much a man can want a baby, how important it can be to him. I just…I thought Ethan deserved to know. If he cared, he would come back, and if he didn’t…” She shrugged.

  “I—I should have tried to tell him myself. I was just afraid.”

  “Afraid he wouldn’t come back? Or afraid he would?”

  “Both,” Grace said with a regretful smile. “Can you tell me something? When you figured it out…were you surprised?”

  “That Ethan had finally gotten a girl pregnant?”

  Wishing she hadn’t said anything, Grace shook her head. Unable to find a graceful way out of it, she barreled on. “That he’d gotten me pregnant. That he’d even noticed I was alive.”

  Bless her heart, Olivia looked puzzled. “Why wouldn’t he notice you? You’re about his age. You’re single. You’re—” Understanding slowly dawned. “What? You think you’re not his type? Not pretty enough, sexy enough, vivacious enough?”

  Grace let her awkward shrug be her response.

  “I have to admit, I don’t know Ethan very well. His relationship with Guthrie hasn’t been an easy one, which I think is as much Guthrie’s fault as Ethan’s. But I believe he’s a better man than most people give him credit for. I think family is very important to him. I know love and acceptance are very important.” Olivia reached across the counter to lay her hand over Grace’s. “I also know you and your baby are important to him.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “He told me so.”

  Grace searched her face and saw that she was telling the truth. It sent a shivery, pleasing warmth through her. It gave her hope and quieted a few of her doubts, at least temporarily.