The Nine-Month Bride. Judy Christenberry
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He broke off and turned back to the window.
Tense silence filled the room, and Susannah sought to ease it. “I guess an old-maid librarian was a bit of a shock, too.”
He turned and stared at her attempt to smile.
“If you’re an old maid in Colorado, it’s got to be your choice, Miss Langston. We don’t have all that many available ladies to choose from except in the cities.”
Color filled her cheeks and she looked away. “I don’t meet any men at the library.”
“Why?”
“I guess they’re not big readers.”
He stood with his hands on his trim hips, watching her intensely. “No. I don’t mean why don’t you meet men. Why do you want a baby?”
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, then nibbled at her bottom lip. She wasn’t about to bare her soul to this stranger. “Why do you?”
He frowned, as if surprised by her turning the tables. Well, she had as much right to ask questions as he did, she decided, raising her chin.
“For the obvious reasons.”
“Me, too.”
Frustration filled his handsome features. “That doesn’t tell me anything!”
“But it’s the answer you gave,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, but I’m a—”
“A man?” She finished the sentence when he didn’t continue.
A sideways grin only made him more attractive. “So I’m dealing with a feminist here, am I?”
To avoid looking at him, she picked up a pen and doodled on the pad of paper on her desk. “You’re dealing with an educated woman, Mr. Boyd. Not one who’s going to accept stereotypes and limitations because she’s a woman.”
He gave a disgruntled chuckle. “You’re not like Beth at all.”
“Beth?” She suspected the woman’s identity, but she waited for him to confirm her thought.
“My wife. She—she and my son died in childbirth,” he murmured, looking away. “Three years ago.” He swallowed, as if forcing down emotion.
“I’m sorry. But no, I’m probably not like her.”
“She was little…and sweet and beautiful.” His voice was dreamy and sad. Then it changed as he added firmly, “And she always agreed with me.”
“Well, that confirms it. I’m definitely not like Beth.” She was ready to end the conversation. He didn’t owe her an apology, and she didn’t want to discuss beautiful women whose husbands adored them. Or little boys who died before they could even live. “I appreciate your apology,” she said, rising, “but it wasn’t necessary.”
“Wait! I—you never explained why you want a baby.”
“Neither did you,” she said pointedly.
“I told you about Beth and the baby!” he returned. When she said nothing, he added, “I’m trying to work something out here!” He put his hands back on his hips, a scowl on his face.
“What?”
“Well, you see, there aren’t—Doc hasn’t been able to find a surrogate mother for me.”
He looked at her, as if he expected a response, but she had nothing to say.
“I wondered if—I’ll have to have someone take care of the baby when it’s born.”
Why would he tell her that…unless he thought she’d like the position? With a shrug of her shoulders, she said, “Yes, but I’m not looking for a job. You’ll need to hire a nanny.”
“Why? You could have the baby, and I’d hire you as the nanny. The baby would have the best care in the world, from his own mother.” As if he’d finally made his case, he relaxed and smiled at her.
A beautiful smile. Too bad.
“And at night I would go home?”
“Yeah, I could handle things at night. After all, I’m his father.”
“And the neighbors would think I’d had your child—probably as a result of a careless one-night stand—and I’ve given it up to you to raise, but I’m receiving payment to take care of it.”
“I don’t care what my neighbors think!” he growled.
“You may not, but what they think would harm your child. Do you care about him?”
“Of course I do!” he roared. “That’s the reason we’re in this mess in the first place!”
She moved from behind her desk, passing dangerously close to him, and reached the door.
“Don’t open that door!” he rapped out, an order that he apparently assumed she would obey.
“Mr. Boyd, you are visiting my office. You do not give me orders.” She opened the door. “Thank you for stopping by.”
He stared at her as if she’d slapped him. Finally he took a step toward her. “You’re not even going to consider my suggestion?”
“No, thank you.”
“But we’d both get what we want.”
“No, Mr. Boyd. You would get what you want. I would get crumbs, not even a piece of the cake. And I would lose my good standing in the community. Does that sound like I would get what I want?”
She could sense Abby’s birdlike gaze flicking back and forth between them and wished she hadn’t been so stubborn about opening the door.
He continued to glare at her, as if expecting her to explain herself further. Instead she stared at him, holding onto the door, hoping he didn’t realize she might’ve fallen without its support. Finally, when she wasn’t sure she could remain standing much longer, he smashed his cowboy hat on his head and strode from her office, not even responding to Abby’s goodbye.
“What got stuck in his craw?” Abby asked, staring at her as she took her place behind the counter.
Susannah sighed, “I love you, Abby, but I’m not going to discuss what was said in there. It’s private.” She added a warm smile, which wasn’t easy when she felt like crying.
Something must’ve alerted Abby to her fragile condition. “Enough said. Why don’t you go back in there and work on those orders. I can handle everything out here.”
With a whispered thanks, Susannah fled into her office, closing the door behind her. She returned to her chair, where only moments ago Lucas Boyd had stood over her.
Great! Now he’d invaded her workplace. She already had trouble getting him out of her head from their one meeting. Seeing him as the father of her child had been a mistake.
As foolish as those thoughts were, she had dreamed of creating that child the old-fashioned way, as Dr. Grable had put it. Strange reaction from someone who was frigid. Those intense dreams had left her unsettled and wanting what she couldn’t have.
Lucas’s description of his wife, and the longing and love that filled his voice, had gouged a hole in her heart. Why hadn’t she found a man to love her the way he’d loved his wife? Why was she alone?
And the biggest question of all: Why was it so difficult to have a child, so she wouldn’t be alone? She’d faced the fact that part of her longing for a child was selfish. But she also knew that she would care for and love her child, provide for him or her, be a good mother.
Her child.
His son.
They couldn’t be the same baby, in spite of his ingenious proposal.
It