Dakota Home (29 page)

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Authors: Debbie Macomber

BOOK: Dakota Home
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“We have to stop,” she whispered. If they made love she didn't want to wake with regrets. But she freed his shirt and let her hands roam over his muscular back, loving the firm, silky feel of his skin.

Jeb groaned again and then he was kissing her and she was letting him. Encouraging him. This was so much better than fighting, so much better than anything that had happened since the blizzard.

They stumbled into the darkened bedroom and Jeb lost his balance. Together they crashed onto the hard floor. Jeb twisted so that he took the brunt of the fall. After a second of shocked silence, he cursed, gritting his teeth.

Maddy lifted her head. “Your leg…”

He rolled away from her.

“Jeb?”

“It's all right,” he grunted.

“What should I do?” she cried, frantic now because he was in such obvious pain.

“Dammit to hell, just leave me alone!”

He was constantly ordering her out of his life. “You
need
me,” she cried, angry and hurt by his rejection.

“What I
need
is to get away from you,” he snapped. “This isn't a good idea….” He struggled into an upright position, but apparently the effects of the alcohol were too much and he leaned against his hands, unable to sit upright without supporting himself. He exhaled a harsh breath and muttered another curse.

Maddy fled from the room, not letting him see how deeply his rejection had wounded her. She left him to stand up on his own, knowing he wouldn't want her there to witness his struggle.

Turning off the lights, she changed into her nightgown and readied the house for the night. She was on her way to her own room when he called her. He was on the bed now, watching, waiting for her.

“Maddy…come back. Sleep with me.”

Except for the hall light, the house was dark. She stood in the bedroom doorway and waited for her eyes to adjust.

“I thought you didn't need me,” she said, trying to seem flippant.

“I didn't mean that the way it sounded.”

“Then how
did
you mean it?”

“Oh, hell, I didn't mean it at all. Sleep here with me. If you don't want me to, I won't touch you. I'm drunk, anyway, too damn drunk…The room won't keep still.”

“Do you need help with the prosthesis?”

“No,” he growled.

She could tell from the way he responded that he resented her even asking.

“I want you close to me, just for tonight,” he muttered. “Indulge me.”

She hesitated. Then, because she couldn't deny him any more than she could herself, she walked from the door to the bed. He shifted to give her more space, and she climbed between the covers.

Jeb placed his hand against the slight mound of her abdomen. “It's your daddy,” he whispered, talking to the baby. “Good night, Baby McKenna.”

She thought to remind him that her baby was a Washburn, but by the time she opened her mouth, Jeb was asleep, his breathing deep and even. It took her only minutes to follow him into slumber.

More than once during the night, she woke, and her heart gladdened instantly when she found herself cuddled close to his side. She felt an immediate sense of peace and fell directly back to sleep each time.

In the morning, Jeb was gone. Without a word of farewell.

Fifteen

J
eb had seldom felt like a bigger fool than the morning he woke with a bitch of a hangover in Maddy's bed. He didn't remember much of what had happened the night he spent with her. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise. In the two weeks since, he'd obsessed over that evening, doing his best to relive those all-too-brief hours they'd been together.

He'd come to Buffalo Valley on some ridiculous pretext of discussing vitamins with Hassie—something he could easily have done by phone. He admitted that his real reason for coming to town was Maddy. Still, he felt he needed an excuse, no matter how weak it was.

On the drive to Buffalo Valley, he'd become more and more depressed. Ever since he'd learned of Maddy's pregnancy, he could think of little else. He had no one to talk to about this; he and his father were barely speaking and Sarah had remained stoically silent. He didn't feel he could approach Dennis, either, under the present circumstances.

When he'd arrived in town, he'd abandoned his vitamin quest and headed straight for Buffalo Bob's, thinking a beer would help him clear his thoughts. What a joke. Drinking had only made things worse, a lesson he intended to remember. One beer had led to another, and before he knew it, five hours had passed and he was sampling the hard stuff. Bob, who'd cut him off and taken his keys, probably would've called Sarah to pick him up if Jeb hadn't implied he'd be spending the night in town.

When he left 3 OF A KIND, Jeb had intended to walk over to his father's, but then he found himself pounding on Maddy's door. It had definitely been a night of intentions gone astray. He shook his head sadly. Every time he tried talking to Maddy, she bristled and made a point of letting him know how much she didn't need him. Unfortunately, if the conversation that night had been different—which he doubted—he couldn't recall.

Another man might have been able to leave the matter of her pregnancy alone, but not Jeb. Everything had changed. His life, tucked in the farthest corner of Buffalo County, would never be the same again. A part of him had recognized it the first time he'd made love to Maddy. But he'd been too stubborn to face it. He'd hurt her, believing that he was doing what was best for both of them. He no longer believed this.

He didn't know what craziness had possessed him that drunken night two weeks ago. The liquor had loosened his inhibitions; one of the few things he
did
remember was kissing her, wanting her with such ferocity he ached just thinking about it. Then he'd passed out. He'd awakened before dawn, suffering from the worst hangover of his life. Deeply embarrassed, Jeb had slunk away, realizing he must have come across like a besotted drunk.

It'd taken him all this time to scrounge up the courage to talk to her again, to say the things that needed to be said. Two long weeks.

His only guarantee that she'd come to the ranch was a grocery order. He'd faxed it in early on Wednesday. Thursday morning, he went about his normal chores, and stumbled upon a cow giving birth. Separated from the herd, she'd nestled beneath the shelter of an old cottonwood tree. Bison preferred to be alone when they gave birth, and Jeb knew enough to maintain his distance. They almost never had birthing problems, but Jeb stayed long enough to be sure. When the calf was born, Jeb experienced the same heady excitement he always felt at these times and hurried back to the house, eager to talk to Maddy.

The last thing he expected when he walked into the kitchen was to find his groceries on the counter. Maddy had already been and gone. Stunned, he sat down, checking his watch. In all the months she'd been delivering groceries, Maddy had always arrived midafternoon. Not this week, obviously.

Although he hadn't talked to his nearest neighbor in months, Jeb called the Clemens ranch. To his surprise, Margaret herself answered.

“Triple C Ranch,” she announced gruffly.

“Margaret, it's Jeb McKenna.”

A pause. “Hello, Jeb. Haven't talked to you in a month of Sundays.”

That was true enough. “Has Maddy been by your place yet? Maddy Washburn,” he clarified.

“Sure has. She just left, otherwise I wouldn't be in the house myself.”

“Just left?” Jeb knew she generally came to his ranch afterward. Apparently she'd altered her schedule in an effort to avoid him.

“I'm not one for giving unsolicited advice,” Margaret continued, “and I sure don't believe in sticking my nose into someone else's business.”

“Good,” Jeb said shortly.

“But…”

He should've heard it coming.

“But…I suggest you leave Maddy alone,” Margaret said in a surly voice.

“What?”

“You've hurt her enough.”

“She told you about the baby?”

“Told me?” Margaret repeated with an unfriendly laugh. “That you're the father, you mean? You obviously don't know Maddy very well. She didn't say a word, but then, it isn't necessary, is it? Anyone with half a brain could figure out she got pregnant during the blizzard and we both know where she was. I wish to God I'd never let her leave that day. More fool me, seeing that you used the opportunity to take advantage of her.”

“Like you said, it's not a good idea to stick your nose in other people's business.” He didn't want to offend Margaret, but he wasn't about to let her speak on matters that were none of her concern, either.

“Maddy Washburn is the sweetest, kindest, gentlest person I've ever known. You hurt her again, Jeb McKenna, and you'll have me to deal with. You understand?”

“Goodbye, Margaret,” Jeb said, replacing the receiver. He didn't have the time or the patience to listen to her scolding. If he hurried, maybe he could intercept Maddy on her way back to Buffalo Valley.

One thing he'd say about Maddy: she certainly inspired loyalty. In all the time Jeb had known Margaret Clemens, he'd never heard her speak this passionately on anyone's behalf.

Rushing now, Jeb got inside his truck and gunned the engine. The tires kicked up a dust storm as he barreled out of his dirt driveway and headed west, hoping to catch Maddy before she took the cutoff to town. Luck was with him; he saw the approach of her Bronco and blocked the intersection.

She eased her vehicle to a stop. They both sat there, staring at each other before Jeb finally opened his door. Maddy followed and they met in the middle of the road, like gunslingers squaring off against each other.

“Maddy, I need to talk to you.” He saw that she wore a coat but had left it unbuttoned, and he noticed that she still wore regular clothes. But he also noticed that she kept her shirt out of her jeans instead of tucking it in the waistband.

“Hello, Jeb.” Everything about her was guarded. The way she stood, the way she watched him. It was as though she
expected
him to hurt her.

“I thought I'd see you today,” he said awkwardly.

“You have your order?” she asked. “Is there a problem with it?”

“No, it's fine.” He shoved the tips of his fingers inside his jeans pockets.

“Then what did you want to talk to me about?”

Damn, she didn't make this easy. “First, I wanted to apologize for the other night.”

“The other night was two weeks ago.”

“I know when it was,” he snapped, suddenly losing patience with her as well as himself. “When I went to your place that night, there were things I wanted to say—and didn't. Important things…”

“Yes?” she urged when he didn't immediately continue.

“About you and the baby.”

“All right. What?”

Her guard was still firmly in place, and feeling as nervous as he did, he found her attitude intimidating. Their entire future, the future of the child they'd created, his role as a father—it all hung in the balance. His biggest fear was that he'd unintentionally say or do something that would insult her. She seemed quick to take offense, and this was too crucial to mess up now.

“You have to remember that this pregnancy came as a shock to me,” he began.

“Are you suggesting I purposely set out to get pregnant?”

“No…no.” He raised his hand. “No, I realize the baby is a surprise to both of us. It happened, and well…it happened.”

“I'm way past the whys and wherefores of the situation,” she said impatiently.

“I'm just catching up, so bear with me,” he snapped again, worried that his purpose was about to get lost in their defensiveness toward each other. He removed his hat, wiped his brow with his forearm and started again. “You're going to have my baby.”

“Yes. I'm nearly five months pregnant.”

That gave them a little more than four months before the baby arrived. The urgency of the matter came crashing down on him. “I want to accept responsibility for my child.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes.

“I'm sure there've been some medical expenses to do with the pregnancy?”

She seemed surprised by his question. “I have health insurance that will pay a portion of the medical bills.”

“It's only right that I assume whatever costs are above and beyond that.”

His offer was followed by silence.

“That would be appreciated,” she finally managed to say.

He knew her well enough to realize she wouldn't have asked.

Maddy offered him a half smile that looked like appreciation, then turned away, assuming he was finished.

“That's not all,” he announced gruffly, wishing they could have this conversation someplace other than the middle of a country road with the sun melting the last of the snowdrifts and the sky above them a brilliant blue.

“I also feel it's appropriate that I pay you some kind of support. If you want, we can have the papers drawn up by an attorney.”

“I—”

“You keep reminding me that you don't need anything. Well, fine, so be it, but this isn't a question of what
you
need. The point here is that this is my child, too. I plan to assume my share of the financial responsibility.”

“All right,” she said, her voice quiet. “Thank you.”

“I'd like something in exchange.”

The eyes that had just started to soften became veiled and suspicious. “What?” she demanded.

“I'd like the baby to be named McKenna—but only if you agree.” Jeb expected her to object, to remind him she was doing this all on her own, without asking anything of him.

After a moment, she nodded.

“You agree?” he asked, unable to hide his surprise.

Once more she answered with a nod. “I have no intention of keeping this child from you, Jeb. If there was any hesitation on my part it's because I didn't know how willing you were to be a part of his life.”

“It's a boy?” He grinned broadly. “Hey, that's great!”

She smiled. “How male of you, Jeb McKenna, to want a son. I don't know yet what I'm having.”

“But they can tell, can't they?”

“I understand the ultrasound sometimes reveals the sex, but I'd prefer not to know, so I'm going to ask the technician not to say anything. It doesn't matter to me whether it's a boy or girl.” She stopped abruptly as if a thought had suddenly come to her. “Does it matter to you? I know men usually prefer sons, but—”

“It makes no difference to me,” he was quick to tell her. Good grief, he was just becoming accustomed to the idea that she was pregnant. In his mind, the baby was a baby; he hadn't stopped to think beyond that.

“Would you like to be involved in choosing the name?” Maddy asked.

“I…I don't know. Can I get back to you on that?”

“Of course.” She looked so fragile and sweet, he thought. “Anything else?”

He shook his head. The tension left his body, and he realized he'd been worried about this conversation for a very long time.

Maddy started toward her car, then halted. “I appreciate the fact that we can talk about the baby, Jeb. There'll be quite a few decisions over the next few years and it'll help considerably if we can remain…friendly.”

“I agree,” he said. “I feel the same way.” And he did.

 

On April first, Calla stopped at the small post office to collect the mail. It was a legitimate excuse to delay going to her mother's shop. Today was April Fools', which seemed fitting because that was exactly what she felt like. A fool. She'd been keen on Joe Lammermann for a couple of months. He was the best-looking boy in class. He'd asked her to the Sweetheart Dance on Valentine's Day, and for once, her mother hadn't gone parental on her and had let her stay out later than normal.

After the dance—Joe had his driver's license—they'd driven out to Juniper Creek Road and sat and talked for hours. They'd done some kissing, too, and she'd let him do other things she wasn't particularly proud of now. Nothing drastic. Nothing that put her in any danger of getting pregnant.

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