by Sara Orwig
The doorbell rang, and when Matt left to answer, Vivian watched him stride away. Matt Whitewolf seemed forceful, yet incredibly gentle and encouraging. She was too conscious of him when he was near. And even though she was in a stranger’s home, Vivian knew she was as comfortable as she would have been in Denver with Dr. Woodrow and her friends. Today everything had happened so fast, she still was in shock. Even so, here was her precious baby with Mary Catherine beside her and they were safe and well.
Mary Catherine had curled up beside the baby and was asleep, and Vivian knew her child was exhausted by the day’s events. She ran her fingers over Mary Catherine’s head, twisting straight brown locks around her fingers. She wanted to give her girls the kind of love she had never had. She wished her dad could see his granddaughters! Her mother probably wouldn’t have been happy to be a grandmother because she was never happy being a mother.
The sound of deep voices rose in the hall, and then Matt returned with a shorter man at his side. Her heart did a strange skip as she glanced at Matt, and for just a moment when they looked at each other, she forgot everyone else in the room, feeling a close bond with him. Then Vivian shifted her attention to the stranger.
Half a foot shorter than Matt, the man smiled as he ran his hand over his bushy brown hair and greeted Meg. “Glad you got here, Meg, but probably not half as glad as these folks.”
“Our cowboy delivered her just fine.”
“Vivian,” Matt said, “this is Dr. Walt Bently. Walt, meet Vivian Ashland. That’s her daughter Mary Catherine, now sleeping, and the newest addition, Julia Ashland.”
“Glad to meet you, ma’am. And glad all of you are doing so well,” Walt Bently said, setting his black bag on the table. “Matt will excuse us and I’ll check you. With Meg here, I’m sure all is under control.”
“Want me to move Mary Catherine to the next bedroom?” Matt asked. When Vivian nodded, he picked up the little girl and left the room while Meg closed the door for the doctor’s examination of Vivian and her baby.
As Matt carried Mary Catherine into the next bedroom, he looked at her nestled in his arms and took stock again of his own solitary life. Whether he was working or at home, he spent most of his time alone. He dated sometimes, but he had never been serious, never could be deeply involved with someone else. He looked down at Mary Catherine’s wispy brown hair, and for the first time he wondered if life might be passing him by.
He shrugged away the notion as nonsense, but he rubbed his chin on the top of Mary Catherine’s head and held her close, feeling a strange possessiveness toward her that he knew he had no more right to feel than the emotions churning in him when he was around her mama.
He stroked the child’s hair lightly and thought about going through life without children. He had never given it a thought before because he intended to go through life without marrying It stood to reason there would be no children, but now he suspected he might be missing what was really vital.
Yet all he had to do was think of his past and any hope of a future relationship vanished. He was not into commitment, but today he was seeing what it was costing him.
He placed Mary Catherine on the king-size bed in the next bedroom. She still clutched her teddy bear tightly in her arms. He ran his finger along her soft cheek and looked at her long lashes. How could any man have separated from a family like this one? Matt couldn’t imagine having such a treasure and not cherishing it. With a shake of his head, he tiptoed out of the bedroom.
Going to the kitchen, he placed a frozen casserole into the oven, called the car dealership and then looked in again on Mary Catherine, who was curled up asleep with her thumb in her mouth. He stood in the door staring at her, remembering those first moments when she had appeared on the road. He wondered how scared she had been to walk so far and accost a stranger. The thought of her walking alone on a country road was unnerving. Yet she was a bright, brave little girl, trying to get help for her mommy.
Meg and Walt appeared, gathering their things. “Vivian is fine and so is the baby. You did a good job,” Walt said, picking up his raincoat and umbrella.
“Stay for supper. You, too, Meg.”
Both of them shook their heads. “With this storm, I want to get home before the last bit of daylight is gone,” Meg said.
“Same for me,” Walt Bently added.
“I can’t thank both of you enough,” Matt said with sincerity. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
Meg laughed. “You’d have done what you do for all those cows and horses, you would have delivered that baby just like you did—like you’d been delivering babies as well as calves.”
“It was a damn sight scarier,” he remarked, and Walt and Meg laughed.
“Only time I’ve ever heard you rattled,” Walt said. “You were a lot calmer when that bull tossed you and broke your arm and collarbone.”
“I knew what to do then—get away from him. I didn’t know what to do today.”
“Oh, yes, you did,” Meg said. “She’s a nice lady and you’ll have a little four-year-old for company tonight,” Meg said, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Time you had your solitary life jolted a little.” Chuckling, she yanked on her battered Stetson. “So long, Matt.”
“Thanks, Meg,” he called after her as she sprinted to her pickup. He turned and offered his hand to Walt. “Thanks again. You were a lifesaver.”
“No. You were. She needed help. Good thing you found her and got her home with you. She can stay here until she gets her strength, can’t she?”
Startled, Matt hadn’t thought beyond the immediate present. “Sure. I’ve got plenty of room,” he said with a strange clash of emotions. He liked his solitude, and the thought of three more people living under his roof with him was unsettling. At the same time, his pulse gave a jump at the thought of having Vivian here longer.
“The lady doesn’t have any family except the little girls. She’s divorced and she’s starting over. You keep her here for a while,” Walt Bently said. “She can’t start for Houston. With a child and a new baby that’s too far and too hard a drive. The usual procedure is another checkup at six weeks, so if you can get her to stay that long, it would be good.”
“She’ll be here for sure until her car is repaired, and from the looks of the radiator, it was major damage. Anyway, be careful going home.”
“It was okay the way I came. Just took a long time. Baby and mama are doing fine, so you can relax. She’ll take charge now. I left her some things I brought from the office and instructions. If the baby has any trouble at all, call me. Meg’s close and can get right here and she’s the best. See you, Matt.”
“Thanks a million, Walt.”
Matt watched the doctor drive away, and as he closed the door, he heard a baby crying. For a second the sound startled him. It was as foreign to his house as if he had heard a choir break into song. He stopped and stared down the hall and the crying ceased.
Vivian’s door was open, so he headed there. Of all the words Walt Bently had said to him, keep her here kept dancing in Matt’s mind and he knew he wanted Vivian to stay. For the first time in his life he wanted a woman in his house, and the idea surprised him.
Chapter 3
“Come in,” Vivian said as Matt knocked on the bedroom door.
Vivian was still propped against a mound of pillows, looking like the satisfied, happy mother, a faint smile on her face and such warmth in her blue eyes that he was drawn across the room. She must have finished eating, washed and changed her clothes because now she wore a blue cotton robe, and a white frilly gown showed above the robe’s collar. Blue satin slippers were on the floor beside the bed.
“How are you doing?” he asked in a husky voice, feeling emotions churn in him. He experienced what he knew was a ridiculous joy and pride—as if he were the father of this baby. He knew full well that was absurd, yet he couldn’t stop the rush of emotions. He still ached to take them both in his arms and couldn’t understand what was t
he matter with him.
“I’m great,” she said quietly, and reached for his hand. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for his fingers to close around hers. Soft and warm, her hand curled in his.
“Thank you for rescuing us. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t come along.”
“I’m glad I was there,” Matt said.
“Would you like to hold her again?”
“Yes,” he answered honestly, not understanding his own intense reaction to the baby. He wanted to hold her little Julia again, yet at the same time he felt clumsy and afraid he might not hold her right. He and Vivian still looked at each other, neither moving while silence drew out until she gave a little shake of her head.
“Here,” she said. She slipped her hand from his and twisted around to pick up the baby and hold her out to him.
He took her carefully, cradling her head with his hand and looking at her. Wide eyes stared up at him solemnly as if she were assessing him. His heart filled with warmth for this tiny baby. He reminded himself again he had no business feeling that way about her. She was no part of his life. Yet the knowledge couldn’t stop the emotions that made him want to keep holding her in his arms. “I never knew a little baby could be so pretty,” he said.
“We think so,” Vivian replied. “Maybe you’re a little prejudiced about her, too, because you have a special interest in her.”
Julia’s eyes fluttered and closed. “Is she asleep? Is she all right?” he asked, alarmed.
Vivian reached for the baby, and he handed her over. He was conscious of Vivian as he bent down, of brushing their hands, of her face only inches away from his, the scent of roses and talcum assailing him. “She’s asleep,” Vivian said calmly. “She’s had a big day today.”
When they looked at each other, he couldn’t resist touching Vivian. He lifted silky locks of her brown hair. “Can I get you anything? I have supper cooking.”
“You cook? You deliver babies and calves. You’re very diverse.”
“I’d like to claim credit for all of that, but I have a housekeeper, Lita Hobart. She’s in cosmetology school in Enid. Three days a week she comes in and cleans and cooks. Her cooking is very simple, but it’s good enough. She fixes casseroles and all I have to do is get them from the freezer to the oven. I think Julia will be my only baby to deliver.”
“You don’t know what the future will bring,” she answered, wondering about his life.
“I hope no more deliveries. That scared the hell out of me.”
“You didn’t act scared.”
“Maybe not once we got into it.”
He pulled a chair near the bed and sat down, propping his elbows on his knees.
Vivian looked at the spacious room that was so obviously occupied by a man, with photographs of a bull and of two horses, photographs on a shelf of cowboys at a rodeo, trophies. In some ways it was stark and barren and uncluttered, with no magazines or books in sight.
“This must be your room.”
“It is. But I can sleep anywhere tonight.”
“Why don’t I move? I’ll sleep with Mary Catherine. Actually, I do a lot of nights.”
“You stay right here,” he said firmly.
“I don’t want to take your bed.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to share it,” he teased, and she laughed, shaking her head.
“You wouldn’t want to share it, either, with a baby.”
Something flickered in the depths of his eyes and the moment transformed. Vivian thought about the intimacy they had already shared. Her pulse jumped as tension streaked between them. He was reacting, too. His dark eyes changed, a solemn expression coming to his features and an intensity in the way he looked at her that made her instinctively know this man was going to be unforgettable.
He made her aware of herself as a woman, something she hadn’t given particular thought to for months now. The circumstances and her surroundings disappeared. All she was conscious of was the handsome, broad-shouldered cowboy who was staring at her as if he were going to lean forward and kiss her. To her amazement, she wanted him to.
The realization shocked her, and she made an effort to look away, hoping the tension would ease or vanish. She hadn’t wanted any man’s kisses for too long to remember. She couldn’t feel anything like attraction—not at this time in her life. Particularly not with a cowboy whom she barely knew and would never see again after she left his house.
“I really don’t want to take your room,” she said, staring at the photographs on the opposite wall and trying to avoid looking at him.
“Vivian, you sleep here,” he said in a no-nonsense tone that carried finality and replaced awareness with a prickly annoyance.
She turned to look at him. “You must be accustomed to getting your way.”
“Maybe so. At least on this place I do. You sound as if that’s an accusation.”
“Sorry,” she said, instantly contrite after all his care and kindness. “I’ve lived the last few years with a man who had to have his way in everything.”
“Well, maybe this time, my having my way means it’s better for you, so that might make it a little different.”
“It makes it very different,” she said, regretting her hasty remark. “You’ve been so good to us.”
“Doc Bentley told me you were headed to Houston when you had the wreck. You’re off the beaten path,” he remarked dryly, curiosity lighting his dark eyes.
“Yes. I divorced a year ago and now I’m moving my business and family to Houston to start over. My husband didn’t want me to leave—our businesses were tied together because he was a client of mine. I’m in the public relations business.”
“That must complicate life to have not only your marriage, but your businesses together as well,” Matt said.
“It did complicate things terribly. It was one reason he didn’t want the divorce.”
“I’d think there would be three other reasons he wouldn’t want it,” Matt said quietly, yet his tone carried a hint of anger, and she knew he was referring to her and the girls.
“He was never interested in Mary Catherine. He wouldn’t have any interest in Julia. I got pregnant during a last-ditch attempt at reconciliation last year.”
“Are you taking back roads to Houston?” he asked, returning to his earlier remark, and she knew he was curious why she was in his area.
“I left the interstate this morning,” she replied, wondering why she was telling Matt so much personal information, yet it was easy to talk to him, and because he had shared childbirth with her, they had a strong bond between them. It was startling to realize that she felt closer to him now than people she had known for years. She smoothed her robe and thought about his last question. He needed to be alerted to any potential problems she might cause him.
“I may have been mistaken, but I thought someone was following us.”
“Your husband?” Matt asked, a coldness coming to his voice that chilled her, and she suspected he would be formidable if provoked.
“No, not Baker himself. Probably someone he hired. I never would have noticed except Baker had me followed two years ago, so I’ve been more cautious and more alert about who’s around me. Two years ago I found the bill to the private investigator on the desk and asked Baker about it. My ex-husband is possessive. I have a thriving business and I have male clients. He was jealous and had me followed, so I was watching for someone on this trip. I could have been wrong, but I left I-70 at Hays, Kansas, and drove south to cut across western Oklahoma. I was headed for I-35 and that’s how I happened to be in this area.”
“We ought to let the sheriff know that you might have been followed. Do you expect trouble?”
“No. I think Baker simply wants to know where I settle and then I think I’ll see him again.”
“Are you afraid of your ex?”
“No, but I have a restraining order against him.”
“Maybe you should get one for the state of Oklahom
a.”
She thought a moment before she answered. “I don’t think I’ll be here long enough to need one.”
Matt shrugged. “Think it over.”
“Our marriage is over, but his ego hasn’t adjusted yet. I was part of his image of success, and he doesn’t want to let that go. He was into power and control and really didn’t care about a family. I think he’ll try to get me to come back because his monumental ego was trampled.”
“And—will you go back?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
“Was he abusive?”
She shrugged. “No, except at the last,” she admitted reluctantly. She had said little to anyone about her marriage and it was difficult to talk about it. “He was beginning to be verbally abusive and possessive and then one night he lost his temper and struck me. I packed and left and got the divorce.”
“Good enough. Mary Catherine was afraid of him, wasn’t she?”
“Yes. How’d you know?” Vivian asked, wondering what he had seen and how he had so easily guessed her child’s feelings toward her father.
“She seems terrified of me. I couldn’t have caused her fear because I barely know her.”
“He did frighten her. He never hit her, but his yelling and his attitude toward me frightened her. His lack of love for her was obvious, even to a child.”
Matt’s eyes changed, darkening, the slightest shift, yet once again he looked formidable, dangerous. “When you thought you were being followed—did you see the same car? A particular person?” Matt asked, stretching out his long, jeans-clad legs and crossing his feet at the ankles.
“It’s difficult to hide a very pregnant woman and a little child. We made lots of stops. I only drove a few hours each day, and along the way we went to parks and museums.”
“Then the person following had to stop a lot,” Matt remarked.
“Maybe he got tired of our breaks and he got careless. I don’t know—maybe I’m wrong and it was just sheer coincidence that a man happened to be traveling the same place at the same time I was.” As she talked, it was a relief to share her worries with him.
