by Linda Turner
What Lucas needed more than anything was to put his ear against her stomach and listen for the heartbeat of his child.
The thought came out of nowhere and grabbed him by the throat. A baby. By God, she was having his baby, and it scared the hell out of him. He hadn’t planned this—obviously—hadn’t even thought of the consequences of making love to her. He’d just wanted her so badly that his teeth ached. He still did. And now there was a baby. His baby. A child that belonged to him. And he couldn’t regret it. Hell, he wanted to shout if from the roof-tops…and run for his life. Where the devil did they go from here?
A thousand questions crowding onto his tongue, he wanted to lock the door and keep her there until she answered every one of them. But he couldn’t, not when he had sick patients waiting for him out front.
Carefully helping her to her feet, he couldn’t bring himself to let her go, not even when it was obvious her dizziness had passed. How could he have forgotten what she felt like under his hands? She was so slender and delicate, almost model-thin. For now, he reminded himself. Soon she would be filling out with his baby. Her breasts would be fuller, more sensitive—
“Lucas?”
Reluctantly jerking back from the tantalizing image, he swallowed thickly. “Look, why don’t I come over to your place after work, and we can talk without having to worry about interruptions? I’ll wrap things up here in another hour or so and meet you there. Okay?”
“There’s no hurry on this, Lucas. I don’t want you to feel like you have to… If you have plans…”
“I’m not doing anything but spending the evening with you,” he said quietly. “And just for the record, even if I did have plans—which I don’t—nothing is more important than this.”
Leaving her to chew over that, he made sure she didn’t need him to call Charlie to drive her home, then returned to his patients.
Concentrating after that, however, was impossible. He treated cold and flu symptoms and an ear infection, and even stitched up a cut and gave a tetanus shot with his usual attention to detail, but his mind was in a fog. Rocky had made it clear that she didn’t expect squat from him where this child was concerned, but she hadn’t said a single word about how she felt about the baby. Was she scared? Angry? Ecstatic? Did she even plan to keep it?
His heart stopped at that, dread, like an icy fog, creeping through his veins. Of course she would keep it! The Fortunes were big on family—he just couldn’t see her giving away her own flesh and blood. After all, even if he wanted no part of the child, she was more than capable of supporting it on her own. But that wasn’t going to be necessary, he vowed grimly. His child would have the security of knowing who its parents were and would love them both. And that meant marriage.
The idea should have rocked him to the core, but from the moment she’d told him she was pregnant, he’d known that marriage was the only acceptable solution to the problem. He didn’t try to convince himself it was going to be easy. She was impulsive, without fear, too used to doing what she wanted without answering to anyone. He could already feel his hair turning gray and knew he had to be crazy to even consider asking her to marry him. But she was carrying his child. And every time they touched, they generated enough sparks to set fire to every forest in Wyoming. A lot of marriages had a lot less than that going for them.
He’d propose tonight.
“You going to stand there all night with that frown on your face or go home?” Mary teased when she bustled into his office and found him staring off into space like a man who had been struck over the head. “The last patient went home ten minutes ago.” Suddenly frowning in concern, she felt his forehead for a fever. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting weird ever since Rocky left. You’re not coming down with the flu, are you? Maybe you should come by the house and get some of that chicken soup I made yesterday.”
“Chicken soup won’t cure what I’ve got, Mary,” he said grimly. “But thanks for the offer. I’ll take a rain check, okay? Right now, I’ve got to get to town. I’ve got some things to do….”
“What kind of things? Darn it, Lucas, should you be driving? At least take your coat,” she called after him as he headed for the door. “It’s freezing outside!”
If he heard her, he gave no sign of it. Giving her a distracted wave, he walked out, then had to come back for his keys. Mary hurried to hand him his coat, and she was still shaking her head when he drove off.
When Rocky answered the firm knock at her door two hours after she’d left Lucas’s office, she found herself staring at a huge bouquet of red roses that must have cost the earth. They were beautiful, with a scent that immediately brought spring into the small house she’d rented not far from the air field, but she could only stare at them in dismay. She only had to look at Lucas’s face and see the glint of determination in his dark eyes to know that he’d gotten the wrong idea. He’d come here to make up and get back together with her. She knew it as surely as she knew she wanted his baby with all her heart. But she couldn’t let him do that.
Taking the flowers with a husky “Thank you,” she hurried to cut him off. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been giving this a lot of thought—”
He cut in as he stepped inside and shrugged out of his coat. “So have I. I need to talk to you. How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Lucas—”
He steered her toward the couch before she could manage anything else and eased her down, then turned to put another log on the fire she already had burning in the fireplace. Seconds later, when he turned to face her, his jaw was set, his eyes penetrating as they swept over her, pinning her to the couch. “You want anything? Something to drink? A pillow for your back?”
“No, really, I’m fine. Lucas, about the baby…”
“The baby’s going to be fine,” he assured her. “I’ll admit you really threw me for a loop, but now that I’ve had a little time to think about it, I know the two of us can handle this just fine. We’ll get married, of course. I’ll see about getting the license tomorrow—”
“Married?” He wanted to marry her? Stunned, she stared up at him, her eyes searching his in confusion. “But—”
Anticipating her objections, he said quickly, “We can make it work. There wouldn’t be a baby in the first place if we could keep our hands off each other, so it’s not as if we’re indifferent to each other. And a baby needs the security of two parents who live together.”
“In an ideal world, yes, of course. But—”
“And it’s not like we’re a bunch of hot teenagers who don’t even know what we want out of life,” he continued easily. “My practice is established, and you’ve got the flying service. You’ll have to hire another pilot to take over for you—you can’t be flying all over the countryside taking chances when you’ve got a baby to take care of—but that shouldn’t be a problem. Talk to Charlie. He may know someone.”
Caught up in his plans, he talked about buying some land on the edge of town and building a log cabin. There’d be a fireplace in the family room and one in their bedroom, and the rooms would be big and airy and perfect for a child. And dogs. He wanted his kid to have a dog. He’d never had one when he was growing up and every child should have a puppy. And a swing set.
Stiffening, Rocky listened to him make plans that affected not only the baby, but her, without once consulting her, and felt resentment flare and ignite deep inside. Dear God, he sounded like Greg! They weren’t even married yet, and he was already telling her she had to give up flying. How long would it be before he started telling her when she could leave the house or get out of bed?
“No,” she said flatly.
Glancing down at her, he grinned in disbelief. “No? You don’t want the baby to have a swing set? But why not? I don’t mean right now—”
Pushing up from the couch, she faced him head on, torn more than she had ever been in her life. The life he described sounded like heaven, and with very little effort at all, she could see herself sharing it with him and the
ir baby. But she wouldn’t be happy there for long. Not if he was constantly trying to mold herself into the type of wife and mother he thought she should be. They’d both be miserable.
Lifting her chin, she stood straight and proud before him. “I’m sorry, Lucas, but no, I won’t marry you.”
She expected him to rage at her, and was half prepared for the cutting edge of his tongue. Instead, he waved her answer aside as if she couldn’t possibly be serious. “I know it’s a big step, sweetheart, but there’s no reason to be scared. We’ll get through it together.”
He started toward her, but she neatly evaded his touch and stepped past him, placing the couch between them. “I’m not scared,” she said stiffly. “Or desperate or afraid of being a single parent. I didn’t tell you about the baby in the hope you would propose. In fact, I was sure you wouldn’t.”
That got his attention. His brows jerking together in a scowl, he growled, “Why the hell not?”
“Because you’re still in love with Jan,” she said bluntly, “and I’m not into threesomes.”
The words hit him in the chest like a clenched fist, right in the heart. Stunned, he opened his mouth to deny the outrageous accusation—but there was more than a grain of truth in her words. He did still love Jan. A part of him always would. She was a precious part of his past and those special years when he’d been young and idealistic and thought he could conquer the world and right all its wrongs. She’d been a part of that dream, and when she died, he’d thought he couldn’t go on living. But he had, and with each passing year her face and laughter had grown dimmer and dimmer in his memory. She was the past. Rocky and his baby were the future. Somehow he had to find a way to convince her of that.
“Jan is dead,” he said stiffly. “I accepted that a long time ago. She has nothing to do with you and me.”
She laughed at that, but the sound held little humor. “You can’t honestly believe that. I know how she died, Lucas, how you fought to save her. You said yourself you were never going to go through that again. Why would you want to marry me considering all that?”
“You’re pregnant. That changes things.”
“But don’t you see?” she cried. “It shouldn’t! You’re only proposing out of guilt, and you’ll end up resenting both me and the baby. And it isn’t necessary. You don’t have to marry me to be a part of the baby’s life.”
Lucas couldn’t believe she was serious, but one look at the stubborn jut of her jaw and he knew she meant every word. She was going to do this, have his baby alone and raise it by herself when she didn’t have to. And in the process, she was going to deny him all the little intimate moments that a man and wife shared when they were expecting a child. Oh, sure, she’d let him see the baby when it came, but he didn’t want to be just a part of the baby’s life—he wanted to be part of hers.
Staggered by that, he stared at her as if he had never seen her before. He should have seen it coming, should have realized, he thought numbly. From the first moment he’d laid eyes on the lady, she’d tied him in knots with an ease that thoroughly mystified him. God, he wanted her. It still stunned him how much. They didn’t have a damn thing in common expect the baby they’d created, but somehow he knew they were meant to be together.
“Maybe not,” he agreed huskily, surprising her. “But my parents weren’t married. I don’t want that for my child.” The admission didn’t come easily, and this wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. He just knew he’d move heaven and earth to make sure his son or daughter never wondered why his father didn’t care enough about his own child to give him his name and marry his mother. “We can work this out. Just because I said I didn’t plan to get married again, that doesn’t mean I’m still stuck on Jan.”
“It’s not just that.”
Struggling for patience, Lucas reminded himself that her hormones were all over the place and she was entitled to be a little argumentative. He’d just have to handle her with tender loving care and remember that this was all new to her, too. If she tromped on his ego a little bit looking for an excuse not to marry him, he could handle it.
But first he had to touch her. Giving into the need, he stepped around the couch and pulled her into his arms. “Okay, then what is it? Give it to me straight. I’m too tall, my feet are too big, you don’t like my favorite color. Tell me,” he coaxed softly. “Whatever it is, I swear I’ll try to fix it if it’s humanly possible. But first you’ve got to tell me what the problem is.”
Wrapped in his arms and standing that close to him, Rocky found it increasingly difficult to hang on to her objections. It would be so easy to say yes and let him play the big strong man to her little woman. But she’d lose herself in that role, and that was too high a price for what he was asking.
“No!” Panic rising in her, threatening to choke her, she fought her way out of his arms. “How can you fix it? You don’t even like who or what I am!”
Caught off guard, he let her go. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? You’d fight anybody who demanded you quit medicine, but I’m supposed to quit flying—not only while I’m pregnant, but for years—because I can’t be running all over creation when I have a child to take care of. And I won’t do it, dammit! I let one man try to control my life and promised myself I’d never get into that kind of relationship again. So don’t even think about trying to put a leash on me, Doc. Do you hear me? I’m going to fly until Dr. Hawkins tells me I can’t before the baby’s born, then every chance I get afterward.”
“The hell you are!” Jealous—what man?—he glared at her, just daring her to argue with him. “We’ll discuss afterward when the time comes, but as long as you’re pregnant with my baby, you’re grounded, lady. Get used to it.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Her chin set stubbornly, she marched to the front door and snatched it open. “You’re not my father, Lucas. And I’m not a little girl. Just because I’m carrying your baby, that doesn’t mean I answer to you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think you’d better go. I’m tired and I’d like to go to bed. Alone.”
Seven
She was the hardheadedest, most obstinate and infuriating woman he’d ever had the misfortune to tangle with. As he struggled to hang on to his temper, it was all he could do not to grab her and shake some sense into her, then demand some answers about this man he was just now hearing about. She was everything he’d thought she was the second he first laid eyes on her—spoiled and headstrong and too used to getting her own way, come hell or high water. Some man should have taken her in hand a long time ago instead of letting her run free, and by God, he wasn’t above doing it himself.
But as much as he was tempted to dig in his heels and stay as long as it took to settle this, he knew this wasn’t the right time for such a discussion. She was pale and drawn and—in spite of the haughty, regal way she was looking down that aquiline nose of hers—exhausted. Too late, he remembered that the news of the baby had been just as much of a shock to her as it had to him, and she was dealing not only with that, but with the changes going on in her body. Changes he was partly responsible for, simply because he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off of her.
Frustration warring with guilt, he growled, “All right, I’ll go, so you can get some sleep. But this discussion isn’t over, Rocky. Not by a long shot.”
He stormed out before she could do anything but flash her eyes at him. Too agitated to even think about going home, he drove around for what seemed like hours, and later he couldn’t have said where he’d been. Alone in his Bronco with only his thoughts to keep him company, all he could think about was Rocky. The way she’d looked when he made love to her, the feel of her under him, surrounding him, the heat that always seemed to flare between them any time they came within thirty feet of each other. She was like a rash under his skin, a yearning that wouldn’t go away. And she was carrying his baby.
Something melted in him at the thought, the wall that he’d erected around his heart after Jan’s dea
th cracking into a million pieces. Every principle he had rebelled at the thought of the mother of his baby having his child without his ring on her finger. She—and the baby—were his to take care of. To care for. Now all he had to do was convince her of that. If tonight was any indication of things to come, she was going to fight him every step of the way. It was, he vowed, the light of battle glinting in his eyes, a fight he looked forward to.
Restless, his thoughts chasing themselves in circles in his head, he finally found his way home, but he was still too restless to even think about sleeping. Edgy and keyed-up, he prowled around the house in the dark, trying to picture Rocky there with the baby. All he could see, though, was her face when she’d brought up another man, then ordered him out of her house so that she could go to bed—alone. It was an image that stayed with him all night.
By morning, he was in a bear of a mood. Mary took one look at him when he stalked into the clinic and immediately poured him a mug of coal-black coffee. “Here,” she said, pushing it across the front desk at him. “You look like you could use this and maybe a couple of nails to chew on.”
He took the coffee and swallowed half of it in a single gulp, nearly scalding his tongue off in the process. “Don’t start with me, Mary,” he muttered. “Not this morning. I’m not in the mood.”
Unperturbed, she merely grinned and settled down for a comfy chat before the clinic opened at eight. “What’d Rocky do this time?”
He hadn’t meant to tell her or anyone else, but dammit, a man needed someone to talk to when a woman was driving him out of his mind! “She’s pregnant and she won’t marry me!”
Surprised, the older woman started to grin. “You’re going to be a daddy? Oh, Lucas, that’s wonderful!” Sweeping around the counter, she gave him a big hug. “Congratulations! A baby! I think that’s wonderful! When’s it due? Tell me everything. You must be thrilled—”
