Michael's Father

by Dallas Schulze

  He held her against his chest for a moment, staring into her face. With her eyes closed, the signs of illness were even easier to read, the hollows under her cheekbones, the blue shadows around her eyes. She must have been very sick. Had she come close to dying? There was a tight, hard knot in his chest at the thought. All the times he'd thought of M^an, he'd never considered the possibility of her death. And he didn't like considering it now.

  Shaking his head, he carried her over to the small sofa and laid her down, tucking a throw pillow under her head for support. Her arm dangled off the side of the sofa and he picked it up and laid it across her stomach. It made her look distressingly like a corpse. Cursing under his breath, Kel crouched beside the sofa and took her hand in his, patting it gently. It seemed as if, in movies, they always patted somebody's hand if they fainted. Or dashed water in their face. He decided to start with the patting.

  Maybe he'd been too hard on her, he thought, watching her face. He*d been so angry, he hadn't ev^ tried to soften his words. But it had seemed like a reasonable assumption, he thought defensively. If she didn't want him to take the boy, why had she written to him at all? Despite the popular myths of motherhood, it wasn't as if women didn't change their minds about wanting children all the time. His mother had walked out on him and Ck)lleen. If he remembered rightly, Megan's mother hadn't wanted her. Hell, that made it practically a tradition on both sides of the family, he thought with black humor.

  "What happened?" Reed's sharp question made Kel glance over his shoulder before rising to his feet. "What did you do?"

  "I didn't punch her, if that's what you think. She fainted."

  Kel backed away to allow Reed next to Megan, annoyed at his reluctance to do so. He watched as Reed checked her pulse and put the back of his hand against her cheek. Kel had to curl his fingers into his palms against the urge to jerk the other man away from her.

  **I suppose you had nothing to do with it?" Reed asked with heavy sarcasm. He straightened and faced Kel, his pale green eyes full of dislike. "What did you say to her?"

  "I told her I'd take the boy off h^ hands," Kel said, curious to see Reed's reaction.

  "You really are a prize bastard," Reed said after a moment, his drawl thickening a little. "I told her she was making a big mistake in contacting you. But she

  was SO damned scared that something would happen to Michael that she wouldn't listen."

  **What do you mean? What could happen to Michael?"

  Reed hesitated a moment, looking at Megan as if debating whether to answer the question. When he spoke, it was to ask a question.

  "Did Megan tell you she'd been ill?"

  "She said she'd had pneumonia," Kel admitted.

  "She almost died," Reed said, confirming Kel's suspicions. "When she recovered, she started thinking about what would happen to Michael if something had happened to her. About him being left alone. She decided it would be better for him if you knew."

  Kel winced a little when he thought of his assumption that Megan was tired of motherhood, but knowing her motivation didn't change his determination to be a part of his son's hfe.

  Before he could respond to what Reed had told him, Megan stirred. She opened her eyes and stared at the two of them. With a soft exclamation, she immediately tried to sit up. Ignoring Reed's move forward, Kel bent over her and slid his arm under her shoulders to ease her into a sitting position. He was struck again by how incredibly fragile she seemed.

  "How are you?" he asked quietly.

  "I'm fine." She pushed her hair from her face and gave him an uncertain look. "I'm sorry."

  *'You don't need to apologize," Reed said with a pointed glance in Kel's direction.

  "Reed,** Megan said repressively. She turned worried eyes in Kel's direction. "We need to talk."

  "You should rest,*' Reed protested.

  "I can come back tomorrow,** Kel said slowly. Much as he hated to find himself in agreement with Reed Hall, Megan didn't look up to the kind of discussion they needed to have.

  "Fm fine.*' She moved as if to stand up and then apparently thought better of it and settled back onto the sofa. "I'm fine," she insisted, as if to convince herself as much as anyone.

  "You should rest," Kel told her. "We can talk later."

  "No. Please, Kd. I'm reaUy fine." Reed snorted his opinion of that claim and she threw him a quick glance before looking at Kel. "Maybe if you could get me a glass of water?" she asked.

  Kel didn't have to be a mind reader to know that she was worried about his implication that he'd take her to court over Michael. He hesitated, but he could hardly offer her reassurance when he was still reeling from the impact of finding out that he had a son.

  "The kitchen's through there," Megan prompted, pointing.

  She could have asked Reed to play water boy but she probably wanted a moment alone with him. The thought eliminated Kel's urge to insist that they postpone their discussion until M^an was feeling stronger. He turned and went in the direction she'd indicated.

  The kitchen was as small as the rest of the house, but sunshine poured in through the window over the sink, brightening the room and making it look bigger

  than it was. Moving on automatic, Kel opened cupboard doors until he found the glasses. He moved to the sink and turned on the tap. But glancing out the softly curtained window, he found himself looking at a miniature playground, constructed of brightly colored plastic modules. There was a tiny slide and arches to crawl through and places for just sitting and contemplating the joys of being a child.

  He didn't question the instinct that told him the child-size play area had been furnished courtesy of Reed Hall. The thought hurt more than it had any business doing. So what if another man had bought Michael a fancy jungle gym? And acted as a father to him?

  Forgotten, the water continued to run while Kel stared out the window and contemplated the idea that another man had been a surrogate father to his son. His son. No matter how many times he thought the words, they didn't seem real. Yet nothing could be more real than the gut-level sense of recognition he'd felt when he saw the boy. It almost seemed as though, if he'd seen Michael under other circumstances, he'd still have known the boy was his son. It was something deeper than the obvious physical resemblance between them.

  The sound of the front door closing snapped Kel out of his thoughts. He became aware of the water still running in the sink and the empty glass in his hand. He filled it and shut the tap off but stayed where he was a moment longer. He had no idea what he was going to say to Megan. What she'd done was unforgivable. She'd cost him the first two years of Michael's life,

  time he could never regain. It had seemed best, she'd said. How could it be best for anyone to keep him apart from his son? Obviously, he wasn't going to find any answers standing here, he thought.

  Megan was sitting in the same place, and Kel was relieved to see that there seined to be a little more color in her cheeks. She took the glass from him and swallowed thirstily.

  "Thank you."

  *'Where's your friend?" he asked, glancing around as if expecting to find Reed concealed behind the curtains.

  **Reed went back to his house." Megan set the glass down on the end table.

  "I'm surprised he was willing to leave you at my mercy."

  **He wasn't crazy about the idea," Megan admitted with a small smile. "But I convinced him you wouldn't do me any bodily harm."

  He questioned her confidence with an arched brow but didn't say anjrthing.

  "Would you mind sitting down?" She indicated the wing chair. "I'm getting a crick in my neck looking up at you."

  He sat down. And the silence suddenly stretched between them like a living thing. There was so much to be said, so many questions to be asked, answers to be given.

  "I'm sorry, Kel. I know that seems pretty inadequate right now but it's the best I can offer."

  "What's done is done," he said, abruptly weary. "You can't give me back the two years I've lost."

  "No."
Megan looked at her hands where they lay clasped in her lap. "You didn't mean it, did you? About taking me to court over Michael?" There was a small tremor in her voice that betrayed her attempt at calm.

  Kel was silent so long that Megan thought he was going to ignore her question. "I don't know," he said finally.

  "I'd fight you, and Michael would end up caught in the middle." She lifted her eyes to his face, willing to beg, if necessary. Where her son was concerned, pride was irrelevant. "He's not much more than a baby, Kel. He needs his mother."

  "What about his father?'* Kel asked, his voice tight and hard. "Doesn't he need his father? Or am I supposed to let Uncle Reed take care of that?"

  "Reed has been a father figure of sorts, I guess." She looked away from the pain and anger in his green eyes, focusing on the toes of his cowboy boots instead. Reed's involvement in Michael's life was obviously a sore point with Kel. She was ashamed of the small part of her that wondered if Kel was jealous of the other man's involvement in her life. That wished he was?

  "Reed's been very good to me," she said carefully. "And not in the way you keep implying," she added with a spurt of anger when she saw the look on his face. "Not that it's any of your business, but Reed has been a friend to me. Nothing more."

  "Not by his choice, I'U bet."

  Megan flushed but didn't deny it. The truth was. Reed was willing to be a great deal more than just a

  friend. The fact that their relationship hadn't moved past the friendship stage had been her choice. No matter how she tried, she had never been able to get past her memories of the man sitting in front of her.

  "Reed has been very helpful, espedaUy when I was sick. I don't know what Michael and I would have done without him."

  If she'd been hoping to soften Kel's attitude toward the other man, she'd chosen the wrong way to go about it. He stood up with an abrupt movement that startled her. She pressed her back against the sofa, her eyes wary as she watched him walk to the window. She had no physical fear of him, but she was very conscious of the havoc he could wreak in her and Michael's life.

  Kel curled the fingers of one hand around the curtain near his face as he stared out the window. Megan doubted he was admiring the newly green expanse of lawn.

  "You shouldn't have had to rely on an outsider for help," he said without turning to look at her. *7 am Michael's father. / should have been the one to take care of him. It was my responsibility."

  Responsibility. Megan was glad his back was to her so he didn't see her wince at the word. It had to avoid being a responsibility that she'd left three years ago. And she'd chosen to keep the knowledge of his child from him because die couldn't bear the thought of either one of them being a responsibility in Kel's life.

  But her illness had brought her face-to-face with how foolish she was being. It was ironic that a desire to avoid bdng Kel's responsibility had driv^ her to be

  irresponsible with her son's well-being. She only hoped that, in trying to rectify her mistake, she hadn't plunged the two of them into more trouble.

  ''It was being so sick that made me realize how wrong I'd been to keep Michael from you," she said. ''I was afraid of what might happen to him if something happened to me."

  "Hall said you nearly died."

  Would you have cared if I had? The question was so strong in her mind that Megan lifted her hand to her mouth as if to physically prevent its escape.

  "I was very sick," she admitted.

  "How are you now? And don't tell me you're fine," he warned, turning to look at her with sharp eyes. "You look like a stiff wind would carry you off."

  "You flatter me," she said with heavy sarcasm. When Kel only arched his brow in response, she sighed. "I'm fine." He opened his mouth to refute that statement but her lifted hand stopped him. "I'm fine for someone who's recovering from a bad bout of pneumonia," she clarified. "I'm still pretty shaky and I get tired easily. I don't normally pass out, though."

  She thought Kel flushed a little at that, though she hadn't really intended the words as an accusation.

  "What does the doctor have to say?"

  "He says I'm going to be shaky and get tired easily." She shrugged and smiled a little. "It's just going to take time to get my strength back."

  "What about your job?"

  "Reed's hired someone to fill in for me for a few weeks."

  "Is he paying you while you're not working?** There was an edge to the question that brought color to Megan's pale cheeks.

  '*He offered but I wouldn't let him.**

  "What about the rent on this place? Did he offer to waive that while you're getting back on your feet?"

  "As a matter of fact, he did. And I didn't let him do that, either," she snapped. "Not that it's any of your business."

  "That's where you're wrong. As the mother of my child, you're very much my business. I don't think it's urureasonable for me to want to know how you're managing financially. That has an effect on Michael's well-being, too."

  "Michael is in no danger of going hungry or unclothed," she said sharply.

  "I didn't say he was," Kel said, unperturbed by her annoyance.

  He left the window and returned to the wing chair. Sitting down on the edge of it, he braced his elbows on his knees and bent his head to stare at his clasped hands. Megan stared at the top of his head. There were a few silver threads showing against the rich reddish brown. She curled her fingers into her palms, struggling against the urge to touch him.

  She'd been so wrong to think that her feelings for this man were dead. They'd simply been buried away, covered over by the new life she'd worked to create. And all it had taken was to see him again to show her just how thin a facade she'd created.

  "I want the two of you to move to the ranch."

  Megan had been so absorbed in her thoughts that it took a second for her to realize what he'd said.

  "What?" Not that she needed to hear it again. Kel must have known that because when he spoke, it wasn't to repeat his words.

  "It's the perfect solution." He straightened up and looked at her.

  "To what?" If she'd been sure her knees would suj^ort her, Megan would have stood up to pace the room. As it was, she stayed where she was, her wide eyes fixed on his face.

  "You need rest. With Gracie at the ranch, you wouldn't have anything to do but rest. She'd like nothing better than to have a child to take care of."

  "I can take care of my own child," she snapped, feeling as if control of her future—Michael's future—was slipping through her fingers.

  "My child, too," he reminded her quietly. Megan wondered if it was her imagination that put a threat in those words. "I'm not talking about Gracie taking over and raising the boy."

  "Good!"

  "I'm just saying that she'd be there to give you a break now and then. I may not have spent a lot of time around two-year-olds but I doubt they're particularly restful."

  That was putting it mildly. There were times when she felt as if she'd given birth to the Tasmanian devil. Just keeping up with Michael could be a full-time job. She'd never met Grace Cavenaugh, but from what Colleen had said, the woman had practically raised both her and Kel.

  **I don't know,'* she muttered.

  **I want a chance to get to know my son, Megan. You didn't think I'd just walk away once I found out about him, did you?"

  **No. I knew you'd want to live up to your responsibilities.^^ Despite her best efforts, she couldn't prevent the tiny edge that sharpened the word into something less than complimentary. She saw Kel frown and spoke before he could question her emphasis. **I assumed you'd want to visit occasionally."

  '"I have no intention of being an occasional father. I want to get to know Michael. I want him to get to know me. That isn't going to happen with a six-hour drive between us."

  "I can't move to the ranch perman^itly," she said quickly, her mind reeling at the thought of being under the same roof with Kel Bryan even for a httle while.

  **We don't have to make any perm
anent decisions now," he said easily. "Why don't we start out with the two of you coming up for a couple of months? We'll work it out from there." He saw her hesitation and his voice hardened. **You owe me this, Megan."

  Yes, she guessed she did owe him this much. He could certainly have demanded a great deal more and might do so if she refused to make this visit. It was just that the idea of spending the next two months in close proximity to him, of going to the ranch she'd grown to love—it was going to be like tearing open old wounds.

  Kel waited for her decision. He didn't look particularly worried but then he probably knew he didn't

  have any reason to. He must know she had no real choice.

  "All right," Megan said slowly. "We'll come stay at the ranch."

  "Good." He stood up. "How much time do you need to get ready?"

  "Two weeks?" She wanted to put it off as long as she could.

  "Four days," he said flatly, recognizing her delaying tactic for what it was. "I'll be back on the weekend."

  She nodded, resigned to her fate. She stood up and followed him out of the living room, but instead of going to the door, he hesitated in the hallway, glancing toward the back of the house. He couldn't have realized how much longing was revealed in his eyes. If he had, she was sure he wouldn't have let her see it.

  "If you'd like to go take another look at Michael, he's the second door down," she said, as if the idea had occurred to her spontaneously. "He's a pretty heavy sleeper."

  She slid her hands into the pockets of her skirt and stared unseeingly at the soft watercolor print that hung next to the kitchen door while she waited. She was veiy careful to keep her mind blank. There would be time enough to think later.

  Kd wasn't gone long. "Thank you," he said quietly.

  "You're welcome."

  It struck her as ineffably sad that he should be thanking her for letting him look at his sleeping child, and she felt a wave of regret for the choices she'd made

  that had kept them apart. But saying she was sorry again wouldn't change anything.