Michael's father (19 page)

friend. The fact that their relationship hadn't moved past the friendship stage had been her choice. No matter how she tried, she had never been able to get past her memories of the man sitting in front of her.

"Reed has been very helpful, espedaUy when I was sick. I don't know what Michael and I would have done without him."

If she'd been hoping to soften Kel's attitude toward the other man, she'd chosen the wrong way to go about it. He stood up with an abrupt movement that startled her. She pressed her back against the sofa, her eyes wary as she watched him walk to the window. She had no physical fear of him, but she was very conscious of the havoc he could wreak in her and Michael's life.

Kel curled the fingers of one hand around the curtain near his face as he stared out the window. Megan doubted he was admiring the newly green expanse of lawn.

"You shouldn't have had to rely on an outsider for help," he said without turning to look at her. *7 am Michael's father. / should have been the one to take care of him. It was my responsibility."

Responsibility. Megan was glad his back was to her so he didn't see her wince at the word. It had to avoid being a responsibility that she'd left three years ago. And she'd chosen to keep the knowledge of his child from him because die couldn't bear the thought of either one of them being a responsibility in Kel's life.

But her illness had brought her face-to-face with how foolish she was being. It was ironic that a desire to avoid bdng Kel's responsibility had driv^ her to be

irresponsible with her son's well-being. She only hoped that, in trying to rectify her mistake, she hadn't plunged the two of them into more trouble.

''It was being so sick that made me realize how wrong I'd been to keep Michael from you," she said. ''I was afraid of what might happen to him if something happened to me."

"Hall said you nearly died."

Would you have cared if I had? The question was so strong in her mind that Megan lifted her hand to her mouth as if to physically prevent its escape.

"I was very sick," she admitted.

"How are you now? And don't tell me you're fine," he warned, turning to look at her with sharp eyes. "You look like a stiff wind would carry you off."

"You flatter me," she said with heavy sarcasm. When Kel only arched his brow in response, she sighed. "I'm fine." He opened his mouth to refute that statement but her lifted hand stopped him. "I'm fine for someone who's recovering from a bad bout of pneumonia," she clarified. "I'm still pretty shaky and I get tired easily. I don't normally pass out, though."

She thought Kel flushed a little at that, though she hadn't really intended the words as an accusation.

"What does the doctor have to say?"

"He says I'm going to be shaky and get tired easily." She shrugged and smiled a little. "It's just going to take time to get my strength back."

"What about your job?"

"Reed's hired someone to fill in for me for a few weeks."

"Is he paying you while you're not working?** There was an edge to the question that brought color to Megan's pale cheeks.

'*He offered but I wouldn't let him.**

"What about the rent on this place? Did he offer to waive that while you're getting back on your feet?"

"As a matter of fact, he did. And I didn't let him do that, either," she snapped. "Not that it's any of your business."

"That's where you're wrong. As the mother of my child, you're very much my business. I don't think it's urureasonable for me to want to know how you're managing financially. That has an effect on Michael's well-being, too."

"Michael is in no danger of going hungry or unclothed," she said sharply.

"I didn't say he was," Kel said, unperturbed by her annoyance.

He left the window and returned to the wing chair. Sitting down on the edge of it, he braced his elbows on his knees and bent his head to stare at his clasped hands. Megan stared at the top of his head. There were a few silver threads showing against the rich reddish brown. She curled her fingers into her palms, struggling against the urge to touch him.

She'd been so wrong to think that her feelings for this man were dead. They'd simply been buried away, covered over by the new life she'd worked to create. And all it had taken was to see him again to show her just how thin a facade she'd created.

"I want the two of you to move to the ranch."

Megan had been so absorbed in her thoughts that it took a second for her to realize what he'd said.

"What?" Not that she needed to hear it again. Kel must have known that because when he spoke, it wasn't to repeat his words.

"It's the perfect solution." He straightened up and looked at her.

"To what?" If she'd been sure her knees would suj^ort her, Megan would have stood up to pace the room. As it was, she stayed where she was, her wide eyes fixed on his face.

"You need rest. With Gracie at the ranch, you wouldn't have anything to do but rest. She'd like nothing better than to have a child to take care of."

"I can take care of my own child," she snapped, feeling as if control of her future—Michael's future—was slipping through her fingers.

"My child, too," he reminded her quietly. Megan wondered if it was her imagination that put a threat in those words. "I'm not talking about Gracie taking over and raising the boy."

"Good!"

"I'm just saying that she'd be there to give you a break now and then. I may not have spent a lot of time around two-year-olds but I doubt they're particularly restful."

That was putting it mildly. There were times when she felt as if she'd given birth to the Tasmanian devil. Just keeping up with Michael could be a full-time job. She'd never met Grace Cavenaugh, but from what Colleen had said, the woman had practically raised both her and Kel.

**I don't know,'* she muttered.

**I want a chance to get to know my son, Megan. You didn't think I'd just walk away once I found out about him, did you?"

**No. I knew you'd want to live up to your responsibilities.^^ Despite her best efforts, she couldn't prevent the tiny edge that sharpened the word into something less than complimentary. She saw Kel frown and spoke before he could question her emphasis. **I assumed you'd want to visit occasionally."

'"I have no intention of being an occasional father. I want to get to know Michael. I want him to get to know me. That isn't going to happen with a six-hour drive between us."

"I can't move to the ranch perman^itly," she said quickly, her mind reeling at the thought of being under the same roof with Kel Bryan even for a httle while.

**We don't have to make any permanent decisions now," he said easily. "Why don't we start out with the two of you coming up for a couple of months? We'll work it out from there." He saw her hesitation and his voice hardened. **You owe me this, Megan."

Yes, she guessed she did owe him this much. He could certainly have demanded a great deal more and might do so if she refused to make this visit. It was just that the idea of spending the next two months in close proximity to him, of going to the ranch she'd grown to love—it was going to be like tearing open old wounds.

Kel waited for her decision. He didn't look particularly worried but then he probably knew he didn't

have any reason to. He must know she had no real choice.

"All right," Megan said slowly. "We'll come stay at the ranch."

"Good." He stood up. "How much time do you need to get ready?"

"Two weeks?" She wanted to put it off as long as she could.

"Four days," he said flatly, recognizing her delaying tactic for what it was. "I'll be back on the weekend."

She nodded, resigned to her fate. She stood up and followed him out of the living room, but instead of going to the door, he hesitated in the hallway, glancing toward the back of the house. He couldn't have realized how much longing was revealed in his eyes. If he had, she was sure he wouldn't have let her see it.

"If you'd like to go take another look at Michael, he's the second door down," she said, as if the idea had occurred to her spontaneously. "He's a pretty heavy sleeper."

She slid her hands into the pockets of her skirt and stared unseeingly at the soft watercolor print that hung next to the kitchen door while she waited. She was veiy careful to keep her mind blank. There would be time enough to think later.

Kd wasn't gone long. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"You're welcome."

It struck her as ineffably sad that he should be thanking her for letting him look at his sleeping child, and she felt a wave of regret for the choices she'd made

that had kept them apart. But saying she was sorry again wouldn't change anything.

She reached for the doorknob just as Kel did. His hand covered hers, and Megan felt her heartbeat catch as a wave of awareness swept up h^ arm and ran down her spine. It had been like this between them from the start, with even the smallest of touches creating sparks. She saw that same awareness in Kel's eyes.

For a moment, it seemed as if the past three years had disappeared. His head dipped toward hers. Did she lean toward him? Another breath, another heartbeat and their lips would touch.

Kel straightened abruptly, and his hand dropped away from hers as if burned. Megan pulled open the door and he stepped out onto the porch.

**ril see you on Saturday," he said without looking at her.

"Saturday," she murmured, using the word as both confirmation and farewell. Megan pushed the door shut and leaned against it and closed her eyes.

She was going to be living with Kel again, seeing him every day. It was crazy, it could only lead to more heartache, but she couldn't prevent a little bubble of happiness from swelUng up inside her.

Ksl climbed into the sardine can of a rental car but he didn't immediately start the engine. Megan was back in his life. He wanted to believe that his only interest was in seeing his son but what he'd felt when he touched her a few moments ago had nothing to do with Michael. Crazy as it was, he still wanted her. The question was, what was he going to do about it?

Chapter 12

Jvel refused Megan's offer to help with the driving, and neither of them had much inclination toward making light conversation. For the first couple of hours, Megan occupied herself with keeping Michael entertained. She'd been touched to see that Kiel had purchased a car seat and installed it in his truck. She was even more touched by his seemingly endless patience with the toddler.

At his second meeting with his father, Michael had been a little less shy, though he still had his doubts about this large stranger. When the time came to climb into the truck, he'd shied away from allowing Kel to lift him up into the cab. With an apologetic look in Kel's direction, Megan had settled her son into his car seat.

Megan had never taken a long car trip with Michael and she wasn't sure what to expect. Six hours

was a long time to keqp a smaU boy cooped up in a car. She wondered if Kel had given that any thought when he decided to drive them from Cheyenne to the ranch. She wondered if he had any idea how whiny a two-year-old could get.

But if she expected him to be annoyed, she did him an injustice. As soon as Michael began to show signs of getting restless, Kel found a place to pull off the road so the child could run off some of his pent-up energy. It added quite a bit of time to the trip, but Kel showed no signs of impatience. In fact, he seemed content to just watch Michael, as if he was making up for the years he'd missed.

Near dark, Michael fell asleep, his head nodding in rhythm with the sound of the tires on the road. As evening closed in, narrowing her field of vision to what was visible in the headlights, Megan found herself falling into a state somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

She'd dreamed of traveling this road so many times. Especially while she was pregnant, she'd fantasized about coming back to the ranch, carrying her baby, and of having Kel open his arms to both of them, not out of responsibility but out of love. After Michael was bom, she'd had less time for daydreaming but the fantasy had remained in the back of her mind, even while she was busy telling herself that her love for Kel had faded for lack of nourishment.

**You're still in love with him, aren't you?" Reed had asked her when she told him that she and Michael would be spending a few weeks on the ranch.

"Don't be ridiculous." They were sitting in Reed's kitchen while he cooked dinner the evening after Kel's visit. Michael was playing on the kitchen floor, happily driving toy cars around the bottom of the skillet Reed had provided as a racetrack, garage or whatever.

Megan glanced up and met Reed's eyes for a moment and then occupied herself with carefully aligning her fork with the edge of her plate. "I'd be a fool to still be in love with him," she muttered.

"I could buy you a peaked hat and shoes that turn up at the toes," he offered. "Then you could dress the part."

"I'm not in love with him anymore." Megan enunciated each word very carefully. She caught his doubting look. "I'm not."

"When I was in third grade, I had to write on the blackboard one hundred times, I will not throw spit-balls at Mary Kate Beldon," Reed said, apropos of nothing. "I guess the teacher figured vmting it that many times would make it true." He glanced over his shoulder and grinned at her. "You want a blackboard, honey?"

"You are a repellent individual," she told him.

"I know." He sighed. "It's a cross I just have to bear."

Despite her inner turmoil, Megan had to smile, which was undoubtedly what he'd intended. She did love Reed, but as a friend rather than a lover. He'd made it clear that he wouldn't object to changing his status in her life but he'd never pushed the issue. Though he hadn't said as much, Megan had the feel-

ing that Reed had suffered pain in the past. Certainly, his heart hadn't been broken when she'd chosen to remain his friend rather than become his lover.

She'd told herself several times that she was being foolish, that she should take what he offered and build a life for herself with one of the nicest men she was ever likely to meet. And maybe she would have, except she hadn't been able to shake the idea that she'd be doing Reed a disservice.

''I don't want to love him," she said, aware that she sounded about the same age as her son.

"And I don't want to be so witty and charming," Reed said. His drawl thickened dramatically as he added, **But as my grandpappy used to say, you just got to make do with what the good Lord provides, boy."

"I don't believe you had a grandpappy," she grumbled, reaching for her fork.

"Everybody has a grandpappy," Reed protested as he sat down across from her. "You think I was found under a sweet potato vine?''

"Did you really call him Grandpappy?"

"Well." He drew the word out. He looked at her and grinned. "Actually, he owned a highly successful law firm in Nashville and I never called him anything less dignified than Grandfather."

"And did he ever say any of those hokum truisms you always attribute to him?" she demanded.

"He would have if he'd thought of them," Reed temporized.

"So you've been lying to me all along." She shook her head sadly. "Another illusion shattered."

"Illusion is just another word for lying to yourself/' he said, and M^an knew they'd returned to the subject of her feelings for Kel. "And you're too smart for that."

"Get off my case, Reed. I am not in love with Kel Bryan," she said stubbornly, hoping the words didn't sound as hollow to him as they did to her.

"I think you're going to need an extra box of chalk," he said sorrowfully.

Half asleep, Megan let the conversation drift through her head. If only writing something a hundred times could make it true, she thought lazily.

She roused as Kel turned the truck onto the ranch road, the tires biting into the gravel surface. It was too dark for her to see anything but she stared out the window anyway. Despite the circumstances, she couldn't entirely suppress a feeling of excitement. In the few short months she'd spent here, this place had become more of a home to her than anywhere else she'd lived. And despite the way it had ended, that smnmer had been the happiest time of her Ufe.

When they came around a curve in the road and the ranch house was suddenly visible, Megan's heart jmnped with pleasure.

"It looks just like I remember," she said and then bit her lip, wishing she hadn't spoken out loud. She felt Kel's glance but kept her eyes focused beyond the truck's nose.

"Things don't change much around here," he said after a moment.

He pulled the truck up in front of the house. As soon as he turned off the engine, the silence rushed in

on them. Megan had ahnost forgotten the intensity of the quiet, a stilhiess so heavy it was ahnost a sound.

They sat there for a few seconds and she thought Kel looked as if he was about to say something. But if that was the case, he apparently changed his mind because he opened the door and got out. With a sigh for lost moments, Megan began unbuckling Michael from his car seat. She'd just eased him out of it when Kel opened the door on her side of the truck.

"Let me take him," he said quietly as she turned.

There was a slight, almost imperceptible hesitation on her part and then Megan leaned forward to allow him to take his son from her.

Kel was unprepared for the feeling that washed over him as he felt his son's weight in his arms. Tenderness and awe, regret and love all tangled together. He was so small, almost insubstantial.

**He won't break," Megan said, apparently reading his mind.

**He's so little." Kd shifted Michael to a more comfortable position in his arms as Megan stqpped out of the truck.

*'Actually, he's big for his age. The doctor says he'll probably be over six foot."

"The Bryan men have always been tall," Kel said, feeling a surge of possessive pride. This was his son, his flesh and blood. He smiled at the sleeping child. It didn't matter that he'd missed the first two years of the boy's life. It didn't matter that they were strangers to one another. Those things paled into insignificance beside the single fact that they were father and son.

bonded on a blood-deep level in a way that could never be changed.

Seeing the look on KeFs face, Megan felt a mixture of joy—how could she not be glad that her son's father so obviously wanted him—and jealousy—Michael was her son and she wasn't accustomed to sharing. But joy or jealousy, anger or acceptance, there was no going back.

Grace Cavenaugh was nothing like Megan had pictured her. Rather than the short, round, jovial woman of her imagination, Mrs. Cavenaugh was taU and spare with a face right out of a Grant Wood painting. Megan didn't think it was her imagination or simply a natural reserve that put a cool edge to the older woman's greeting. But then, she supposed keeping Kel's child from him wasn't going to win her any friends on the Lazy B.

But Michael was another story. When she saw the sleeping child in Kel's arms, her somber face creased in a huge smile, all her reserve vanishing in an instant. Megan knew Kel had been right when he'd said that the housekeeper would be more than happy to keep an eye on Michael.

**He's the spitting image of you when you were his age," she said, peering at Michael. Kel grinned, clearly pleased by the comparison. "No doubt about who his daddy is."

Megan wondered if it was her imagination that the older woman sounded reUeved. Had Gracie thought that she might have lied about Michael's paternity? She debated whether or not she should feel indignant

and then decided it would require too much effort. Just standing here trying to look alert was taking every bit of energy she had.

It was ridiculous to be so tired when all she'd done all day was sit in the truck and watch Kel drive. But ridiculous or not, exhaustion was washing over her in waves, each more powerful than the last.

**rve soup heating, if you're hungry," Mrs. Ca-venaugh said, looking from Kel to Megan.

"Thank you but I'm a little tired." Megan forced a smile and hoped she wouldn't mortally offend the woman by turning down her soup.

She thought she was managing to conceal the extent of her tiredness fairly well but when Kel glanced at her, he immediately saw the glazed look in her eyes. Her skin was so pale that it had an ahnost translucent look about it, except for the faint blue circles under her eyes. She was all but swaying on her feet.

"I'll show you to your room. I'll have some soup when I come down, Gracie," he said.

**If you'll just tell me which room it is, I'll take Michael up." Megan held out her arms but Kel was shaking his head.

"You look as if you'll be lucky to get yourself up the stairs, let alone Michael. I'll carry him." Even if she hadn't looked so tired, he was reluctant to give up his son just yet. He'd never in his life held anything that felt half so sweet. Except perhaps the child's mother. Kel pushed the thought aside, not sure he wanted to examine it too closely.

He shifted his hold on Michael, holding him so that his smaU body sprawled against his chest, which left

him with one hand free to set against Mean's back, offering small support as she climbed the stairs. He thought it a good indication of her exhaustion that she didn't bother with even a token protest. When they reached the top of the stairs, she paused a moment, catching her breath.

**I feel so stupid, getting winded just climbing one flight of stairs," she muttered.

"You've been sick."

"No kidding."

Kel felt one comer of his mouth kick up at her rueful conmient. One of the things he'd liked most about Megan was her sense of humor.

He felt M^an hesitate when he stopped outside her old room. Glancing at her, he saw her gaze drift across the hall to his door. He knew she had to be thinking about the nights they'd spent together, the passion they'd shared. As if against her will, her eyes met his and he saw the memories reflected there.

For a moment, there in the dimly lit hallway, it almost seemed as if it was three years ago. As if they were still lovers. He wanted to lift his hand and see if her hair was as soft as he remembered, to slide his fingers under the edge of her T-shirt and feel the soft skin of her belly quiver at his touch. Arousal stirred in him and from the sudden catch in Megan's breathing, he knew she felt the same thing.

If it hadn't been for the presence of the child in his arms, Kel might have given in to the urge to reach for Megan, to renew old memories. But Michael stirred against his shoulder, a vivid reminder that not all of

those old memories were good memories. He turned and pushed open the door.

''I had Grade set Colleen's old crib up in here. I thought you might want Michael in the same room, at least at first." He stepped back to let her enter and then followed her in. "Once he*s settled in a bit, we can move him into the room next to this one."

"This looks fine." Megan lifted her hand to brush her hair from her face. The small movement seemed to take an enormous amount of energy. She sank onto the bed and let her eyes drift around the room. Aside from the crib in one comer, it looked the same as she remembered.

"I'll bring some of your things up from the truck," Kel said.

"All the essentials are in the red suitcase." She watched through bleary eyes as he walked toward her.

"I'll set him on the bed for now."

If she hadn't been so tired, Megan thought that the tenderness with which he set Michael on the bed be^ side her would have brought tears to her eyes.

"I'll be right back."

She thought she nodded but she wasn't sure. As soon as the door closed behind his tall figure, she sank back against the pillows. She'd just rest while he was gone. Just for a few minutes. She reached out and slid her arm around Michael, tugging him closer as her eyes drifted shut. Just for a few minutes...

Kel set the suitcase down inside the door and walked over to the bed. Megan lay on top of the covers, one arm curled protectively over Michael's small body, both of them sound asleep.

Mother and child. As perfect as a Nonnan Rockwell painting. Megan's fair hair was spread across the pillows, a vivid contrast to Michael's dark locks. His cheeks were flushed with sleep, his mouth slightly open. He looked as if, even in sleep, he knew he was safe and secure, just the way it should be, Kel thought.

He reached down to brush his fingertips over his son's rosy cheek, his smile gentle. He still found it hard to believe that he'd had a part in creating anything so perfect. His eyes shifted to Megan. She looked as pale and fragile as their son did healthy and sturdy.

He remembered Reed Hall's conmient that she'd ahnost died. He'd been furious with her when he found out about Michael. He was still furious, but the thought of anything happening to her twisted his gut into a knot. And it wasn't just because she was the mother of his child. It was something deeper and more visceral.

Kel frowned and straightened away from the bed. He reached for the quilt folded across the foot of the bed and pulled it up over the sleeping pair. Snapping off the bedside lamp, he left the room without looking back.

When Megan thought about it, which was fairly often, she was amazed at how easily both she and Michael made the transition to living on the ranch.

She pushed the toes of one foot against the porch floor, setting the glider in motion. If she closed her eyes, it was almost possible to believe that it was three

summers ago and that everything was just as it had been. But it wasn't.

Opening h^ eyes, Megan watched Michael stirring a stick in the soil at the edge of the rose bed. Carey Wills and Dick BrownweD had shown up the day after they arrived and strung chicken wire around the exterior of the spUt rail fence that already enclosed the yard, making it impossible for an adventurous toddler to slip between the rails and get into the ranch yard itself. They'd tipped their hats to her but hadn't made any effort at conversation. Megan couldn't help but wonder if it was just a cowboy's natmral reticence or if they thought she'd committed an unpardonable crime by keeping Kel's child from him.