by Hope Navarre
“She’s thinking it over. I know she’s very committed to this community. I’m afraid that commitment will keep her from making a wise choice. I want you to help me persuade her to make the right one.”
Neal gave a short bark of laughter, and they both turned to stare at him. “You don’t know Robyn very well. Nobody can persuade her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe not, but she deserves the chance to be more than an underpaid nurse in a one-horse town.”
Neal crossed his arms and leaned a hip against the counter.
“What’s it to you if she stays here?”
“Nothing. I mean, I know she has the potential to be a fine clinician. I don’t want to see that skill go to waste.”
“You’ll be leaving soon yourself, won’t you, Dr. Cain?” Martha asked, sliding a large slice of pie onto a thick white plate.
“Yes, my contract with the hospital is up in a month, and my residency is finished in October.”
“What will you do then?” she asked.
“I’ll be joining my father and my grandfather in their practice.”
Neal stood away from the counter. “In Denver, I’ll bet.”
Adam’s head snapped up. “That’s right. What of it?”
“I can guess where the privately funded scholarship is coming from. Smooth but a little underhanded.”
Martha stepped between the two men and handed Adam the plate of pie. She laid a hand on Neal’s arm. “Chance wanted to say good night to you, too. Why don’t you go up now?”
Forcing himself to relax, Neal said, “Sure. Thanks, Martha.”
“Don’t mention it.” A grin twitched at the corner of her lips, but she stifled it. Taking Adam by the arm, she led him to the table. “I make a mean apple pie, even if I do say so myself, Dr. Cain.”
“Please call me, Adam, Mrs. O’Connor.”
“If you’ll call me Martha.”
“All right. I can assure you, Martha, there are no strings attached to this scholarship offer.”
“I believe you. Please, sit down and enjoy the pie.”
Neal climbed the stairs and tried to cool his temper. He wasn’t even quite sure what it was about Dr. Adam Cain that irked him. Maybe it was because Neal realized he wasn’t in a position to influence Robyn’s life and Dr. Cain was. Or maybe he was just plain jealous.
Neal shook his head in disgust. First he was jealous of a dead man and now the good doctor, a man she worked with. The list was getting longer by the minute. Oh, he had it bad. He couldn’t get Robyn out of his blood.
He stared down the long hall, wondering which room belonged to the boy. The closest door stood open slightly, and he glanced in.
The light from the hall threw a rectangle of brightness across the floor into the dark room. It illuminated the child where he knelt beside a low bed. He was signing as he looked at the ceiling. Neal realized Chance was saying his prayers with his strangely graceful gestures.
The boy’s blond hair caught the light and held it around his upturned face like a halo. Robyn sat on the edge of the bed, watching her son. She clutched a ragged brown teddy bear to her chest.
When he finished his prayers, Chance scrambled into bed, and his mother pulled the covers up to his chin. She laid the bear on the edge of the bed beside him, but it slipped to the floor unnoticed as she leaned forward and placed a kiss on her son’s brow. Her face came down into the light. Neal’s breath caught in his throat at the love shining in her eyes. Gently, she smoothed a hand over her child’s tangled curls and smiled at him.
Neal had known her since she was a child as young as Chance. He had seen her face bright with happiness and streaked with tears. He’d seen her eyes snapping with anger and sparkling with laughter. Until this moment, he’d never realized how much love she was capable of giving to another human being. It hit him in the gut like the kick of a mean bull.
He wanted her to look at him with love like that in her eyes. Was he crazy? To do that, he would need to earn back her trust. He wasn’t sure that was possible, but he had to try.
She’d said her son was the most important thing in the world to her. Neal saw the truth of that now. If he wanted Robyn back, it meant he would have to accept this child, too.
Could he do it? Could he learn to love a child with a serious handicap, a child he couldn’t communicate with? Feeling vaguely ashamed, he faced the fact that he honestly didn’t know the answer.
He wanted—needed—Robyn in his life, but he had no idea what she wanted. Was it enough for her to be a nurse in a small town, or did she want more? Did she want what the good doctor had to offer, strings or no strings? Neal owed it to her to find out before he tried to become part of her life again.
He’d return to the rodeo circuit soon. He had to. His fear gnawed at him like the sharp teeth of a rat whenever he thought about lowering himself down onto the twitching back of another bull. It haunted his dreams and brought him jerking awake at night drenched in sweat. The longer he stayed away, the larger his fears seemed to grow. Soon he would have to prove he was still man enough to ride.
But the grueling pace of the pro rodeo circuit was no place to raise a child. Would Robyn be willing to wait for him to come home at the end of each season? Was it fair to ask her to do that? Didn’t she deserve a full-time husband? Didn’t his son deserve a full-time father?
He faced the unkind truth. He had some prize money safely invested. His brother, Jake, had a head for business, and he had seen to that. But what else did Neal Bryant have to offer? Certainly not a face as handsome as the man downstairs, or a future as secure.
All he had was his ability to ride the twisting, bucking bulls. A national title would bring him a measure of long-term security. Some cowboys could make more from the promotional deals than from riding, and they didn’t have to break any bones to do it.
But the top-selling brands didn’t want a runner-up to promote their sportswear and boots. They only wanted the winner. And Neal Bryant was still a two-time loser.
Chance caught sight of him in the doorway and waved. Robyn looked over and straightened. The glow faded from her face as Neal walked into the room.
“Your mother said Chance wanted me to come and say good night,” he said quietly.
Chance frowned at him, glanced at his mother and signed.
Neal saw Robyn’s faint smile before she looked away, and he asked, “What did he say?”
“He wants to know why you can’t talk?”
“Why I can’t what?” he asked in confusion.
“Why you can’t sign.”
“Oh. Tell him no one ever taught me.” He watched her sign his answer and saw Chance’s quick response. She signed to her son again, and a mulish frown sprang to the boy’s face. She didn’t elaborate until Neal asked, “What did he say now?”
She stood and started for the door. “He said he could teach you, but I told him you weren’t going to be around long enough to learn.”
Neal glanced at Robyn’s retreating back and then to the boy’s frowning face. She was right. He wouldn’t be around long enough to learn sign language. But looking at Chance, Neal saw himself at the same age when his mother had just told him he couldn’t do something he wanted. His own mother must have seen that same mulish expression more than once. In this instance, he had an advantage over Robyn. He understood what it was to be a boy.
Sticking his thumbs in his ears, Neal wiggled his fingers at Robyn’s back and stuck out his tongue. Chance grinned and clapped his hands over his mouth. Some sign language was universal.
Pressing his palms together, Neal laid his cheek on the back of his hand in a gesture of sleep. Chance nodded and flashed him an impish grin as he settled under the covers. Stepping up to the bed, Neal picked up the teddy bear and tucked it in with
the child.
He stared at the boy for a long moment. This was his son, the child of the woman he loved. Did it matter that people thought someone else was his father? Neal wanted Robyn to be part of his life again. To do that, he had to find a way to include this child.
Staring down at the face beside the ragged bear, Neal wondered if that would be so hard after all.
* * *
ROBYN HELD THE door open and watched as Neal gave Chance his bear. Bear had slept with her son since the day he’d been born. It had been a gift from Colin, something he’d bought on a whim one afternoon when they had been shopping for a crib.
Colin had picked up the homely little bear and declared he looked lonely and no one was allowed to feel lonely when he was feeling so happy.
She had smiled and indulged him and secretly hoped the ugly stuffed toy would sit on the back of her closet shelf and be forgotten. Two weeks later, Colin had taken a turn for the worse.
Together, they’d listened to the news that he was no longer in remission. His doctors had wanted to try a new and experimental treatment. Colin had squeezed her hand and consented. He had packed Bear in his suitcase and kept the toy beside his bed in the hospital, but he’d never come home again.
He’d wanted so badly to live until after the baby was born, but in the end, the cancer had won out. Chance had been born a month later. She’d given her son the two gifts Colin wanted him to have. One was Bear, and the other was his name.
Neal crossed the room, and Robyn stepped aside. He gently closed the door behind him. “You have a beautiful son, Robyn.”
“Thank you.”
His gaze roved over her face. Her cheeks grew warm under his close scrutiny. “I think he has your nose and your eyebrows.”
He leaned toward her as if to study those features more closely. The old hallway suddenly seemed too narrow as he loomed over her. Had he always been so broad and so tall? The scent of him, like leather and musk, surrounded her and filled her mind with a dozen memories of their nights together—wonderful passionate nights, tender loving nights.
A fierce longing grew in her, a longing to step into his arms and rest her head against his strong chest the way she used to. She swayed toward him, remembering the sweet way he’d made her feel when he held her, the way his chin rested on her head and how sometimes he had kissed the top of it. She had been so happy, until—
Abruptly, she stepped away from him. Until he had come home smelling of stale beer and covered with the scent of another woman.
She hadn’t wanted to believe it, not that night, not even when Meredith had admitted it with open gloating. Robyn’s father’s illness had given her the perfect excuse to get away, to think things over, but it had given her more than that. Her time away from Neal had showed her the bitter truth. He didn’t love her, and he didn’t want her back.
He hadn’t followed her and begged her to forgive him. He’d never said he couldn’t live without her, that breathing was hard to do if she wasn’t near him. None of the scenes she’d played out in her head had happened. Robyn couldn’t bring herself to confront him with the painful incident. When he didn’t call for a month, she admitted the truth. It was over between them.
It was over between them. She chided herself for this weakness she felt when he was near. Things could never be the same again. He had to understand that.
She pushed past him and hurried down the stairs. Adam was sitting at the table. Her mother offered him another piece of pie. He held up his hand. “One’s enough for me.”
“I’m sorry I took so long and that we didn’t get to have dinner together,” Robyn said brightly.
“So am I. Your mother is a great cook.”
Neal came and stood in the doorway. She ignored him and gave Adam a dazzling smile. “I’d love to go for a drive. Do you mind?”
Adam jumped to his feet. “Of course not. That would be great. Thanks for the pie, Martha. It was delicious.”
“You’re quite welcome, Adam. Robyn, don’t stay out too late. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”
Martha glanced from Robyn to Neal, who followed her into the kitchen and stood with his arms crossed and one hip leaning against the counter.
Robyn kissed her cheek. “I won’t, but don’t wait up.” She threw a defiant look at Neal and walked out the door as Adam hurried to catch up with her.
* * *
NEAL STROLLED TO the coatrack beside the door and took his hat down. Disappointment cut deep, but he wasn’t ready to throw in the towel.
“If you had even a lick of sense, you’d go after her,” Martha said with sharp disapproval, her hands firmly planted on her hips.
At least he had one person rooting for him. Neal leaned around her, scooped up the last piece of pie and bit into its flaky crust. The tart-sweet taste of apples and cinnamon burst into his mouth. He licked his lips free of the crumbs and planted a kiss on Martha’s plump cheek. “You make the best pie in the whole world.”
Her reply was a huff of disgust. “Don’t try to sweet-talk me. I’m not the one you need to impress.”
He settled his hat on his head. “Martha, if I had a lick of sense, I wouldn’t ride bulls for a living, and I’d be chasing after you, instead of your stubborn, willful daughter.”
She snorted and shook her head. “I can tell you one thing, Neal Bryant, I’d be a whole lot easier to catch.”
* * *
ADAM HELD OPEN the door of his black Mustang convertible for Robyn to get in. “I can put the top up if you would rather?”
“No, a drive with the top down sounds wonderful.” The leather upholstery was soft and supple as she slid onto the seat. She leaned back with a soft sigh. It was such a relief to be away from Neal.
Adam got in and sat behind the wheel, but he didn’t start the car. “Is it okay to admit your invitation took me by surprise? Not that I wasn’t delighted.”
“Thanks for coming on such short notice. I needed rescuing tonight.”
He studied her intently. “It’s my pleasure to offer you my assistance wherever and whenever you need it. I hope you believe that.”
Robyn looked down, feeling flattered and guilty. She was using him to avoid Neal. She wanted to show Neal there wasn’t any room for him in her life. Adam deserved better from her. He was a sweet man with a good heart. “I do believe that, and I appreciate it, but I’m just using you, Adam. I hope you can forgive me.”
“Is your mother pushing your cowboy down your throat again?”
“How did you know?”
“I think it was the wild panic in your eyes that gave you away.”
“If you ever need me to rescue you from Crabby Gabby, just say the word. I’ll be there with bells on.”
“Thanks. Where shall we go?” He turned on the engine.
“We could catch the late show in town,” she offered.
“I’ve seen it. Twice. There really isn’t much to do in Bluff Springs after dark.”
“Today is August 10, right?”
“Yes.”
“In that case, I know where there’s a great show playing. Go to the end of the lane and turn left.”
“Okay. Hang on.” He flashed a bright grin, revved the engine and shoved the gearshift into First. Gravel sprayed from beneath the tires as the car shot into motion.
Once they hit the highway, he really sped up. The low sports car hugged the curves like a dream. The headlights cut a narrow swath of light down the dark road as they wound their way through the rugged hills. The wind whipped her hair, and she laughed in delight at the sense of sheer freedom it gave her. After a couple of miles, she leaned toward Adam and pointed ahead. “Slow down and turn left up there.”
He slowed the car and glanced at her in disbelief. “That’s a cow pasture.”
“Just do it.”
“All right, but this car isn’t made for off-road travel.”
He turned where she pointed. The metal cattle guard rattled as he drove over it. “If we get stuck, it’ll be a long walk back to town.”
“We won’t get stuck. It hasn’t rained in weeks. Stay on the track until we get to the top of that hill.”
“And then what?”
“You’ll see.”
He drove slowly along the rough trail as they climbed a steep hill. He braked sharply when the headlights suddenly illuminated three cows bedded down in front of them. He honked the horn. One cow rose to her feet and ambled a few steps away, but the other two stayed put, chewing their cud and watching the car.
Adam threw his hands up. “Now what?”
“Drive around them, silly.”
“I don’t believe this,” he muttered as he backed up a few feet and pulled around them. Dry grass and brush swept the bottom of the car with a harsh rattle. “Why would they want to sleep in the middle of the road?” he demanded, steering back onto the faint track.
“Because they’re cows.” She chuckled at his obvious annoyance. “It’s not much farther.”
A few minutes later, they reached the crest of the hill. “Stop here,” she said.
He stopped the car and turned to face her. “Now what?”
“Turn the lights off.” He did. Instantly, inky darkness pressed in around them.
“Dare I hope you have brought me out here to ‘neck in the woods,’ as they say?”
“Men! You only think about one thing.”
“That’s not true,” he said defensively.
“Close your eyes and recline your seat back as far as it will go. And, yes, it is true.” She leaned back until she was almost lying flat.
“Sometimes we think about food.”
“Hush now, and listen.”
The sounds of the night swelled around them. Insects chirped and trilled in a droning serenade. The wind combed playful fingers through the tall prairie grass and set it to rustling and sighing. Far in the distance, a cow bellowed, then closer, one of its own kind answered the lonesome call. A coyote yipped in the valley below them. Suddenly, a chorus of eerie howling swelled until the sound filled the night, then it ceased abruptly.
