The Nine-Month Bride. Judy Christenberry
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She wasn’t a beauty, but she didn’t put out any effort to attract the opposite sex with her concealing clothes, lack of makeup and severe hairstyle. But, hell, they were in Colorado. Single women, outside the big cities, were scarce.
“Why does she want a baby?”
“She didn’t explain her reasons. All she wanted was information about how to go about it, not a discussion of why or why not.” There was a pause and then Doc said, “You could ask her if you want to know.”
“Has nothing to do with me!” Lucas snapped, irritated by the curiosity that filled him. “Find me a real surrogate mother, Doc. Okay? I’m ready to get this done.”
“I’ll do what I can. But you know it’s not going to be easy. Or fast. That’s why I thought—oh, well. I’ll see what I can do.”
“What are you reading?” Abby asked.
Susannah jumped as if someone threatened her very existence. With a protective arm over the article she’d been studying, she shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing much.”
Abby McDougal, one of the volunteers who helped Susannah with the various chores of running the library, and her best friend, narrowed her gaze.
“You’re working on getting pregnant, aren’t you?”
“Abby, shh!” Her cheeks flooded with color as Susannah looked around to be sure no one had overheard Abby’s remark.
“You are. I can tell.”
“I’m reading an article. That’s all.”
“What’s the title?”
“’Options.’”
“Aha! I knew it.”
“So? I tried it your way. I spoke to Dr. Grable, but he told me I’d have to go to Denver for what I wanted.” She fought to keep the blood from her cheeks because of the lie. After all, it was almost the truth. Without a local donor, she’d have to go to Denver.
She hadn’t returned to Dr. Grable’s office after the debacle of the interview with Lucas Boyd. She was no masochist. She figured she’d do the research herself. And she had. This article was the last she intended to read before she contacted a particular clinic in Denver. She already had the number written on a pad by her phone.
All she had to do was work up the nerve to make the call.
Heck, that would be a breeze compared to confronting that cowboy. That tall, sexy, handsome cowboy. Her emotions had gone on a roller-coaster ride that afternoon.
Exhilaration that her child would have this man for a father. Confusion when he told her he would keep the baby. Actually the son. She didn’t think he had considered the possibility of a daughter.
Anger and disappointment when she realized he wouldn’t cooperate. And forgiveness when she heard his admission of having lost a son. No one should have to suffer such pain.
Even though she’d been curious about his past, Susannah decided it would be best if she didn’t ask anyone about Lucas Boyd. How could she explain her interest?
Instead, she concentrated on her desire to have a child. It would be easy to chalk up her decision to her internal clock. But she knew better. She didn’t need a child for fulfillment. She loved her work and believed in the need to encourage reading.
But she wanted a child. A family. A way to pass on the important things she’d learned from her loving parents. A personal connection to the future. She actually ached with longing when she saw a young woman carrying a baby.
“Susannah, you need to find a man.”
“It’s not necessary these days, Abby. I can manage just fine without that added complication.” She kept her voice calm, swallowing the tremor that ran through her.
Abby frowned. “Some man must’ve really done a number on you, Susannah. They’re not all bad.”
Turning her head away, Susannah tried to think of another subject that would engage Abby’s interest. She didn’t want to discuss her insignificant experience with men. The one time she’d thought she’d fallen in love, the man had dumped her because she hadn’t accepted his advances with open arms. He’d labeled her frigid.
Susannah wondered if the newest shipment of books would distract Abby. “Did you see that we received the latest Nora Roberts romance? Have you put your name on the list to check it out?”
“I don’t want to talk about books. What you’re thinking of doing—”
“Morning, Abby, Miss Langston,” a deep drawl interrupted.
Susannah almost passed out. She didn’t have to turn around, or wait for Abby’s greeting. That voice told her who was standing in front of her counter.
“Why, Lucas! I haven’t seen you in a dog’s age. What are you doing in the library?” Abby asked, a big smile on her face. “Have you met Susannah—well, I guess you have or you wouldn’t have greeted her by name.”
Susannah avoided looking at Abby, but she heard the curiosity—and speculation—in Abby’s voice. “Hello, Mr. Boyd. Is there something in particular you’re looking for?”
“Yes, Lucas, just what are you looking for? I’ve never seen you in the library before.”
“Well, Abby, I’m looking for a private conversation with the librarian,” Lucas said, a grin on his face.
Abby’s interest sharpened. “Oh, really? Now, isn’t that interesting?”
Susannah had no idea what the man wanted, but she knew she didn’t want to deal with any more comments from Abby. “Could you please watch the counter while I talk with Mr. Boyd, Abby? I shouldn’t be long.”
“I’ll be happy to.”
Ignoring Abby’s grin, Susannah looked at Lucas Boyd for the first time and drew a deep breath. The man oozed sex appeal. “Shall we go into my office, Mr. Boyd?”
He nodded and came around the end of the counter, then waited for her to lead the way.
Her back ramrod straight, Susannah stalked into her small office, wishing she’d cleaned her desk this morning. She wasn’t compulsively neat, but she didn’t want the man following her to think badly of her.
Almost laughing at that ridiculous thought, as if this man’s opinion mattered, Susannah straightened her features and sat down behind her desk. She paused as he removed his hat and hung it on the antique hat stand. A shiver ran down her spine. The conversation must be important if he took off his hat.
“Won’t you be seated?” she asked politely, gesturing to the small narrow chair across from her, the only other seat in the room.
He eyed the chair suspiciously, as if he didn’t think it would hold him. He could be right. He was a big man, several inches over six feet, his body a solid mass of muscle.
“I think I’ll stand. That seat doesn’t look any too stable.” He smiled but didn’t wait for her response. Instead he turned away and looked out the small window. Since she knew the view encompassed the parking lot, a few scraggly buildings and the mountains in the distance, she didn’t think it was that compelling.
“How may I help you, Mr.—” She broke off as she remembered their last meeting. Somehow her question seemed inappropriate. “I mean—why are you here?”
His intense blue eyes lightened slightly as he turned around, a grim smile on his face. Clearly he understood her change of question. “I think I owe you an apology.”
He took her by surprise.
“I—I can’t think of any reason.”
“I can. I was angry when you—about the misunderstanding we both suffered two weeks ago. I don’t think I was much of a gentleman about it.”