To Be a Dad. Kate Kelly
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colder than on land. He’d have to dig out his long johns, that is, if he could find anything after his brother finished ripping his house apart.
He was stalling. Hard to pretend otherwise. Although he had mixed feelings about going through that door, no way was he going to leave Teressa to face another pregnancy on her own. Aside from everything else, she was his friend, and she’d had a hard life up ’til now. It wasn’t in him to turn his back on a friend in need. Plus, her getting pregnant was as much his fault as hers. Teressa loved children, and he suspected she’d never consider terminating the pregnancy. Truth be told, the thought of doing such a thing made him feel queasy, but it wasn’t his decision to make.
When he shoved the door open, Anita pivoted around, frowning at the intruder. That was pretty much how he felt, like an intruder.
“Hey.” He stayed by the door, figuring Teressa would fly into the room and kick him out any second.
“You came!” Anita made it sound as if he’d shown up at some kind of social function.
“I thought I should be here.” It came out as one word: IthoughtIshouldbehere.
His sister-in-law studied his face. “I think Teressa will be relieved to see you.”
“You think? Cal says to tell you he’s at my house, and he needs your help.”
His big brother, the tough guy no one could get close to, had fallen head over heels in love with Anita. How had Cal done that? How had he let down his barriers and exposed himself? Anita seemed like a nice person. Dusty was almost certain she loved his brother, but Cal and Anita had had problems lately, and neither one had confided in anyone what those problems were. Which proved, just because you loved someone and got married, there were no guarantees that everything was going to work out.
He trusted Pops and, he supposed, Cal and Sylvie. But Teressa’s moods were too mercurial to make it easy to trust her. Nine times out of ten she came out swinging. The one thing he did trust about Teressa was that she always tried to be fair. Or almost always, at least.
Anita grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair and shrugged into it. “She’s pretty high-strung tonight.”
“I figured.”
Anita tilted her head. “If you don’t mind my asking, are you going to ask her to marry you?”
“I don’t even know if she’s pregnant yet.”
“You realize that she’d probably say no.” She stood with her hand on the door knob.
“I figured.” Had he? Really?
“Maybe you better—”
“Anita? Go, okay? I’ll take it from here.”
Anita came back into the room and surprised him when she rose on tiptoe and kissed his jaw. His unshaven jaw. Christ, he couldn’t even get that right. “You’re a good man, Dusty Carson,” she said.
He swallowed hard. “Thanks.”
“Call Cal later if you need someone to talk to,” she added on her way out the door. She stuck her head back in. “Take your boots off,” she hissed. “You don’t want to upset her.”
Dusty breathed more easily when he heard Anita pull out of the driveway.
Teressa had probably heard the vehicles coming and going, too, so he might as well go and find her. He pulled off his boots and left his jacket on a hook by the door.
Her bedroom was empty, and he kept on going, but hesitated at the kids’ room. Should he check on them? Would he wake them if he opened the door? After a second of listening and hearing nothing, he continued on. So, she was in either the bathroom or her closet of a living room. The bathroom door was closed. He considered knocking, but went with his gut. If he knocked, she could tell him to get lost before he had a chance to talk to her.
When he opened the bathroom door, Teressa was sitting on the toilet, staring at her hands in her lap. A flat plastic stick sat on the edge of the sink. She looked so scared it reminded him of the Halloween when she was twelve, and he and a bunch of guys had hidden in a hedge and jumped out at her. She’d peed her pants right there on the sidewalk in front of everyone. She hadn’t talked to him for a year after that. Hell, no wonder she didn’t trust him. At sixteen, he should have known better.
Dusty squatted down in front of her. “Are you okay?”
“Couldn’t wait for the bad news, huh?”
“So, are you...?” The words stuck in his throat.
“I don’t know. I can’t look.”
Dusty picked up the plastic stick. “This it?”
“Yup.”
“What am I looking for?”
“Two lines.”
“Two lines means you’re pregnant?” His hand shook.
She continued staring at her hands. “That’s the way it works.”
“You’re pregnant.”
Teressa groaned and listed to one side.
Dusty squatted down on his haunches again and slid his hands along her thighs. “It won’t be so bad. We’ll do this together.”
Her head snapped up. “Really? You want to be pregnant for the first trimester or the last?”
Usually, right about now, he made some smart-ass comment and they got into it. He took a breath, counted to ten. “I want to be with you during the whole thing.” He swallowed his panic. “All of it. The pregnancy, the birth and all the years to follow.”
She pushed his hands away and stood in front of the sink. “Don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Be nice to me. It makes everything so much harder.”
He stood and looked over her shoulder at her reflection in the mirror. “I’m trying to make things better.”
“I don’t deserve better.”
“What are you talking about? You think you got pregnant by yourself? We’re in this together, whether you like it or not.” He rested his hands on her hips and pulled her back into him. “Far as I’m concerned, you deserve the best.”
He nuzzled her neck, inhaling her sweet scent, found her earlobe and nipped it. He could seriously get used to this if they were married.
She stiffened. “What do you think you’re doing? Stop.”
Not exactly the reaction he was looking for. “Why? You can’t get pregnant again. We might as well take advantage of the good parts.”
“So, you’re in this for the sex?” she hissed.
He raised his hands as if she’d pointed a gun at him. “No. You’re...you’re twisting it around.” Right, and that lump in the front of his jeans was just a stick. Log. Whatever. “All I’m saying is...” Shut up, man. “I think you’re a really attractive woman, and no matter what happens in the next year, I’ll still find you attractive.”
She flicked her long red hair over her shoulder, and he watched it sway across her back, remembering how it felt against his chest their one mad night together. He chanced a glimpse in the mirror and caught the shadow of sadness in her eyes. Okay, maybe he was going about this the wrong way. As usual.
He put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her until she stood in the circle of his arms. “Give me a chance, Teressa. I won’t let you down.”
She closed her eyes and sunk into his embrace. He was always startled by how fragile she felt in his arms. Not that he got to hold her often, but, yeah, in his mind she resembled an amazon warrior. In reality she was a slender woman with too heavy a burden to carry.
She rubbed