by Jane Porter
The wagon turned the corner, and the driver reached for the sleigh bells at his side and gave them a good shake. The bells sounded merrily, echoing off the old brick buildings.
“And which family friend would I go to for this generous DNA donation?” she asked lightly. “Because I’m sure you’re not offering yours.”
“Friends do help friends.”
“Are you seriously considering being my donor?” she asked, knowing he wasn’t serious about it all, and certain he’d immediately back off.
But he surprised her yet again. “Maybe I should be.”
“No.”
“Why not? At least you know me and my family.”
“This isn’t like fantasy football. We’re not drafting an imaginary team here. This is real. I’m going to have a baby, and I’m going to do this soon. So don’t make an offer unless you intend to show up at Dr. Crookshank’s office in Bozeman and spend ten minutes in a private room with a paper cup.”
“And what if I did say I’d show up?”
Her stomach somersaulted, and she laced her fingers together in her lap, forming a tight ball. “Let’s not ruin what’s been a lovely evening.”
“We’re having a discussion, not a fist fight.”
She squeezed her hands tighter. “What a relief to meet someone just as impossible, if not more unreasonable, than me! All these years I’ve felt rather crazy, but you’re even crazier than me, Rory Douglas.”
“And that’s why you won’t consider my swimmers?”
“Your swimmers aren’t the problem. You are.”
“Me?”
How was it that they were having this conversation while sitting on an itchy hay bale as a wagon loaded with families lurched its way to the Graff? “Yes, you. I’m finally getting to know you, and even though I admire you immensely for so many things, I’ve realized you’d be the worst possible donor because you couldn’t handle knowing that I was raising your baby and you weren’t part of his or her life. You’d worry about him or her, and you’d feel responsible, and guilt and anger would eat at you, and before you knew it, you’d resent not just me, but the baby.”
They were now traveling down Front Street, and he’d been gazing out over the train tracks toward the hotel and depot, and as she talked, she saw how his jaw tightened periodically, the small hard muscle near his ear bunching. But when she finished and fell silent, he turned his head and looked at her, his handsome features relaxed, his blue gaze warm, his expression fond, making her think of an infinitely patient parent who’d just saw someone listening to the ranting of an emotional teenager.
“How could I resent you if you were my wife?” he asked calmly.
Her jaw dropped. She blinked. Did he have any idea of what he’d just said?
His broad shoulders shifted in an easy shrug. “Seems like marriage is the solution you’re looking for. Not a sperm donor.”
Chapter Seven
Shocked, and furious, Sadie disembarked the wagon with the rest of the crowd, but she didn’t follow them into the Graff. Instead, she stepped off to the side, knowing Rory would, too.
She faced him, so upset she could barely think straight. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing—”
“I’m suggesting we marry. I’m suggesting you have that family you want so badly. I’m suggesting you consider giving your baby a real-life father instead of just some DNA.”
Her chin jerked up. “This is my life, and my future, not yours.”
“Maybe it should be.”
She stared at him as if she’d never seen him before. Nothing he was saying made sense. Nothing about him made sense. He was supposed to be this distant, detached, unattainable dream, and yet he’d arrived in town and immediately began intruding into every area of her life.
“Maybe you were never supposed to give me up,” he added. “Maybe you were supposed to give me a chance so we could make this work.”
“How? We don’t even know each other!”
“That’s just it. We start this thing over. We start at the beginning, not at the end.” He seemed to be ignoring her incredulous expression. “We’re going to spend time together while I’m here. It’s two weeks to Christmas—”
“I am not going to spend the next two weeks trying to cope with you. You are overwhelming in every respect.”
“You’re afraid of intimacy.”
“No.”
“Then you’re afraid of men.”
“I’m not afraid of men. I might be afraid of you, though.” She looked away and drew a deep breath, grateful now for his silence. The last thing she needed was for him to mock her. “You are... a lot. You are... big, and tough, and smart... physical. It’s a lot to deal with.”
“You’ve had serious relationships.”
“Yes, but none of those men have ever been like you.” She glanced back at him, expression rueful. “I’m pretty sure there isn’t anyone else like you.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means that you could hurt me, and I don’t want to be hurt.”
“You could hurt me just as easily.”
“How? You’re the guy that isn’t going to settle down—”
“How do you know that?”
“Well, you’ve told me that.”
“No, I’ve never told you that.”
Her mouth opened, closed. She tried again. “But you said at the diner that you used to tell your girlfriends that you didn’t do forever. You said you’d warn them off in the beginning so they knew where they stood and wouldn’t get ideas.”
“Yes, but did I ever say it to you?”
She simply looked at him.
“No,” he answered for her. “I didn’t because those women weren’t right for me. But you very well could be.”
For a long moment she just looked at him and then she sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s okay. Maybe we just leave it alone for now and go inside and get warm. I don’t like to complain, but these old bones are beginning to ache a bit.”
As they climbed the front step to the grand old Graff, Rory was glad they weren’t doing small talk. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
He’d just suggested marriage, and babies, to Sadie and the crazy thing was, he meant it.
He’d never pictured himself married. He’d never allowed himself to imagine that kind of life... a wife, a home, children. But ever since returning to Marietta, he felt caught up in something beyond his control, as if something or someone else was directing his life, pushing and prodding and instigating change. The strangest part of all was that he didn’t mind. If anything, he felt hope. Peace.
Sadie wasn’t as calm, though. Glancing at her as they entered the hotel he could see she was in shock.
Maybe even dismay.
She really was overwhelmed.
He didn’t blame her. Just twenty-four hours ago she was unlocking the stable house for him, and handing him the keys. And now he was suggesting marriage. Something would be wrong with her if she didn’t resist and panic.
“Where do we start?” she asked, tugging off her gloves.
“It’s up to you. You know how this gingerbread thing works better than I do.”
“No,” she said, tucking her gloves into her coat pockets. “This. Us. How do we know if we could be good together?”
“We date. I take you out as my girl, and I treat you as if you’re my girl, and we see what happens.”
“You’re only here for a couple weeks.”
“That’s all the time we’d need. Let me rephrase that. It’s all the time I will need. I usually know within a couple dates, and if it works, it works, and if it doesn’t, we weren’t meant to be.”
“And if it doesn’t work?”
“Then you’re free to continue dating your nice, local, stable men and pursue your ART as you’ve already planned.”
Color stormed her cheeks. “You don’t need to sound so judgmental.”
; “Listen, darlin’, I am old-fashioned. I think you’re putting your needs before your child’s needs and it strikes me as selfish. But I also know you’ve lost your mom, and you’re grieving, and you don’t want to be alone.”
“This has nothing to do with grief. This has to do with not wasting any more time on impractical dreams.”
“Impractical dreams being what? Me?”
“Yes. I pursued you for years—”
“Sweetheart, you never pursued me. I’m pursuing you.”
She turned her face away, expression set, and Rory had to fight a smile because right now she reminded him of one of his favorite champion bulls on tour, Sugar, a big red bull with the softest brown eyes but a temper once provoked. Sugar, like Sadie, was equal parts sugar and spice.
After a long, tense silence, she gritted, “What does dating really accomplish?”
“We’ll either discover there is something real between us, something we can build a life on, or we’ll realize we have nothing in common, and that this attraction, is superficial, based on chemistry rather than anything lasting.”
She seemed to struggle with this, too. “How many dates would it take to figure out we don’t have anything in common?”
“How many dates have you had with Paul?”
“Four. Five would be our date at Grey’s tomorrow.”
“Then I suggest five—not for my sake, but for yours, since you seem to need a lot of time.”
“That’s a lot of time together. That’s too much—”
“And yet you’ve given Paul the same amount of time, and you still don’t know how you feel about him.”
“Spending time with Paul is nothing like time with you.”
“That has to be a good thing.”
She shot him a disapproving glance, reminding him of a prim teacher. “Paul is a very nice man.”
“Yes, so you’ve said.”
“You know, chemistry can be a problem. The chemistry between us just complicates everything.”
“Because I want to have you naked in my bed?”
“That’s part of it.”
“Darlin’, I know you’re a city girl, but getting naked is the best way to make babies.”
She blushed as only a redhead can.
Thank goodness he’d been raised with a red-headed sister so he was comfortable with spirited women, and knew how to handle them.
“Shall we have a look at the gingerbread houses and see who won what?” Sadie asked stiffly.
She was trying to sound stern, and right now she did look fierce, but she also looked beautiful, a siren with her long, thick red hair, pale, porcelain skin, and expressive dark eyes, eyes that were snapping fire at the moment. “Of course.”
“Then let’s do it. Otherwise, we’ll end up here all night.”
He let her lead the way since she’d done this before. The Graff’s impressive lobby was crowded tonight, and yet the grand marble columns and rich wood paneling still managed to evoke turn of the century glamour and charm, with a huge fragrant fir dominating the center of the lobby and greenery and wreaths marked doorways and windows. Against the far wall, by the grand staircase was Santa Claus in an extravagant gilded chair, complemented by helper elves.
Rory watched a mom try to place a crying baby on Santa’s lap but the infant arched and shrieked, trying to get away. He smiled, remembering that Grace had been the same. She’d wanted nothing to do with Santa Claus, not at her first Christmas, or her second.
He suddenly realized he’d been standing in one spot too long and turned to look for Sadie. She hadn’t gone far. She was waiting for him by the first of the gingerbread house displays.
“You okay?” she asked as he joined her.
“Yes, why?”
“You had an odd look on your face.”
“That baby... she just reminded me of my sister Grace. Grace didn’t like Santa Claus. Wanted nothing to do with him. Ever.”
“Does remembering your little sister still hurt?”
He hesitated, letting the emotion fill in, and it was dark and aching, the kind of tender he felt after a bull kicked him in the ribs, but it wasn’t the mindless pain he’d feared, the pain that surfaced with the nightmares. “It does. But then, remembering all of it hurts.”
“Is that why you don’t come home often?”
“It’s why I didn’t like coming home, but I’m discovering this trip that not remembering actually hurts worse than remembering.” He ran his hand across his jaw, feeling the bristles. “I’m going to stop pretending they didn’t exist and just let it be what it is.”
“Will it ever be okay, do you think?”
“The fact they died? Maybe. But the way they died? No.” He looked at her and felt a welling of emotion that had nothing to do with the past or his family, and everything to do with her. His beautiful, sensitive angel who was not quite as sweet as he’d imagined, but which was also good. Rory needed someone with backbone. Someone with imagination and spirit and heart.
“How are your old bones?” she said, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm. “Would they enjoy a comfortable seat in the bar?”
“Possibly.”
“Well, the hot chocolate was good, but I have a feeling we’re both ready for something stronger.”
Rory ordered a scotch, neat, and she ordered the Graff’s specialty, a delicious hot mulled wine, and for several long minutes, they just sipped their drinks in companionable silence.
It was nice, Sadie thought, the quiet, and the companionship. It was much better than the tension earlier. She didn’t do conflict well. Growing up, there hadn’t been anyone to fight with as her mom wasn’t someone who enjoyed arguing, either.
“You really think we’ll know in four dates whether we are meant to be?” she asked after a bit.
“I don’t see why not.”
He sounded so relaxed and sure of himself, and she wondered how he did it. They were discussing something huge, and life-changing, and yet he didn’t seem worried at all.
Her brow creased. “Does today count as one of those four dates?”
“I don’t see why not. We did spend a lot of time together today.”
“Almost half a day.”
“So, yes, it counts.”
Sadie chewed on her lip, trying to puzzle this out. “And after four dates, if we’re not convinced we work, we do what? Say goodbye? Stop seeing each other...”
“I think we agree we had some fun, and promise to remain friends and move on.”
She felt a pang at the idea of saying goodbye and moving on. But was she really ready to think of him as her forever? She’d always dreamed of him as her forever guy, but fantasizing about something and actually having it were two different things. “And you won’t be negative about me going through ART to have a baby?”
“I won’t be negative in any way. In fact, no one will be more supportive than me.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Three more dates,” she said, thoughtfully.
“Well, four if you go to Grey’s tomorrow because I think it’s only fair that you give me the same amount of time as you’ve given Paul.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“How?”
“It just sounds... competitive.”
“I am competitive. I hate to lose. You’ve seen me on tour. Surely, that doesn’t come as a surprise to you.”
“I thought you just had a death wish.”
“I still ride well, and win.” His features eased, his eyes smiling at her, lips curving. “I’m pretty good at what I do.”
“You’re twice the age of the new guys.”
“That’s because they’re kids.”
“Well, maybe Gramps should think about retiring and doing something a little less dangerous.”
He laughed out loud, a warm, sexy rumble of sound. “You’ve heard the nickname.”
“Don’t sound so proud.”
He laughed again, and this time h
is rumble of a laugh sent a little thrill through her. “Fortunately, I’m good at a lot of things and have options for the future.”
“You’re really thinking about retiring?”
“I’m ready to get off the road.”
“Where would you live?”
He lifted a brow. “Are we really going to do that?”
“What?”
“Four dates, babe, four dates and then a proposal.”
Sadie went hot and cold, her body so sensitive she tingled all over. “You scare me half to death.”
“You’re not scared, you’re excited, and that’s a good feeling. It means your heart’s beating, your blood’s pumping, you are completely alive.”
“It’s a lot of adrenaline.”
“Welcome to the world of a bull rider.” He gave her a wink, his expression smug, but also playful and she didn’t know what to do with him, she really didn’t.
He was simply more of everything.
More handsome. More rugged. More interesting. More determined. More persuasive. More seductive.
And the destructive side... that seemed to be going, if not gone.
It didn’t make sense.
“What’s the matter now?” he asked, closing the distance and kissing her, a sizzling electric kiss that made her feel as if he was branding her his.
“Nothing.”
“Then let’s discuss it tomorrow. I want to take you ice-skating. I was thinking I’d pick you up around lunch, and we could get a bite to eat and then head up to Miracle Lake. Trey and Mac are taking the kids skating, too, and McKenna would love for you to join us.”
“She knows we’re spending time together?”
“I stopped by the house earlier and filled her in a little.”
“Filled her in on what?”
“That I’m going to be here through Christmas, and you and I are spending time together.”
“And what did she say to that?”
“She suggested I bring you home for dinner tomorrow night after we’re done skating.”
“Rory, you know I have plans tomorrow evening.”
“Yes, I do, but she didn’t, and we’re talking about an afternoon skating event. I can take you home in plenty of time so you can get ready for your date with Paul.”
