Pregnant In Prosperino (11 page)

“I'm fine,” Lana smiled sheepishly and slid back in across from Chance. He eyed her critically, noting that her eyes looked slightly puffy and red, as if she'd been crying.

“I'd better get back to the kitchen,” Angie said. “If I'm not back there supervising, no telling what the customers might be served.”

“Thank you, Angie,” Lana said. “It was very thoughtful of you to write out the recipe cards for me.”

Angie beamed a happy smile, then headed back to the kitchen.

“Are you sure you're all right?” Chance asked Lana. “We don't have to eat if you're still feeling sick.”

“No, I'm not feeling sick anymore.” She picked up a fork and stared at it, as if unable to meet his gaze. “I just suddenly got weepy, that's all. I guess it's some kind of a hormonal thing.”

A hormonal thing. “Does that mean maybe you aren't pregnant, but that your hormones are just all screwed up?” he asked.

“I really don't know, Chance,” she said softly. “I guess we'll have the answer when I take the test.”

They fell silent as the waitress appeared at their table to take their orders. As they waited for their food, Chance tried to figure out exactly what he felt about the possibility of her pregnancy.

On the one hand, he should be pleased that he had managed to give her what she wanted, had fulfilled his end of their bargain. On the other hand, he knew if she was now pregnant, she probably wouldn't want him making love to her anymore.

And that thought shouldn't bother him, after all, he'd known right from the start why she had allowed him to make love to her night after night—because she wanted a baby. There had never been any pretense of love between them. It had been a business arrangement.

But that didn't explain the disappointment that swept through him as he thought of never again holding Lana in his arms, never again feeling her soft sighs and sweet gasps against his throat.

He found his gaze drawn to her again and again as they ate. For some reason, she appeared far lovelier now than the day she had married him.

He wasn't sure what the difference was, only knew that there was a luminous glow to her skin, a certain knowing in her eyes, that transformed her from a sweetly attractive woman to a sexy, gorgeous, exciting woman.

“Angie told me something interesting while you
were in the rest room,” he said, trying to empty his mind of thoughts of her.

“Really? What's that?”

“She told me my mother loved the ranch, that my father quit the army and bought the place just to please my mother.” Again a sense of wonderment filled Chance as Angie's words played in his head.

Lana studied him thoughtfully. “And you don't remember that about your mother?”

Chance frowned. For so many years he'd consciously shoved away memories of his mother, first angry with her for dying and leaving him alone with his father, then later finding the memories simply too painful to bear.

Now he reached back into his treasure chest of memories in an attempt to retrieve all those cherished images from his childhood.

“I told you before she sang a lot. In my memories she was always smiling or laughing. I remember she had a huge garden on the side of the house and loved planting vegetables and flowers there.” He smiled, his heart suddenly filled with a warmth. “She was like a ray of sunshine. Even my dad wasn't too bad when she was there.”

“Maybe losing her is what made your father such an angry, bitter man,” Lana observed. “If what Angie said is true, your father gave up his dream of the army life for her, then she died.”

Chance frowned. “That doesn't excuse what he did to me over the years.”

“You're right,” she agreed quickly. “There is no
excuse for what your father did to you, but perhaps that's an explanation.”

“Maybe,” Chance finally replied. Even trying to understand why his father had been so miserable, so cruel to him, didn't ease any of the pain those particular memories wrought.

They finished eating, then left the café and went directly to the drugstore. Chance was amazed by the variety of pregnancy tests that were available. He picked up first one box, then another, wanting to buy the best and most accurate.

“Do you know anything about these?” he asked Lana, who was also perusing the display with a bewildered expression.

She eyed him dryly, a twinkling in her dark eyes. “I'd never had sex before you, so I certainly am not an expert on pregnancy tests.”

He wanted her then and there. An enormous desire swept through him, one greater than any he'd experienced before for her. For a brief moment it left him weak-kneed and half-breathless.

She stood there, holding a box in each hand, seemingly unaware of the volcanic want that nearly consumed him. For the first time that day, he noticed how her dress clung provocatively to her breasts, how the bright yellow color complemented her skin tones and made her eyes appear darker, mysteriously beckoning.

He grabbed one of the tests from her hand. “We'll get this one,” he said and turned on his heels.

He was irritated with himself, wondering if his monumental desire for her at the moment was only
because he knew there was a possibility he'd never possess her again.

He paid for the test, then stalked out of the drugstore, aware of Lana trailing behind him in silence.

As they walked back to his car, he cooled down, the grip of desire releasing him. He smiled at Lana, to assure her that all was okay.

She'd obviously sensed his tension, for the smile she returned to him was one of relief. Still, as they drove home, they were silent, as if the brown paper sack containing the pregnancy test on the seat between them had somehow stolen their small talk.

When they pulled down the lane that led to the ranch, for the first time in his life Chance really looked at the land and the buildings that, for the moment, were his.

The corral looked strong and sturdy and the barn looked as if it could withstand anything man or nature might throw its way. The pastures were lush, and here and there along the fences wild blackberry bushes grew.

“Do you know how to make jam?” he asked Lana suddenly.

“No, but I'm sure my mother knows how. Why?”

“I just remembered my mother and I used to walk down to those bushes and pick blackberries. She made great jam.”

He smiled as the memory came to fruition in his mind. “She'd wear a big, old floppy straw hat and we'd pick blackberries until our hands were black with the juice. We'd pick a bucket full, then eat them
right off the vine. She'd laugh and tell me that she bet the Coltons, with all their money and fine things, weren't as happy as we were just picking blackberries.”

Lana leaned toward him and placed a hand on his forearm. “I'm glad you have good memories of her, Chance. You need to hang on to those.”

He nodded and for the first time in his life wondered if perhaps he wasn't making a mistake in selling this place and returning to his rootless, vagabond life.

H
ow had this happened? How had something that should have filled her with such joy suddenly become a catalyst for such heartbreak?

Lana stared intently at the small test window, her heart pounding as she waited to see if a plus sign appeared.

Plus sign, you're pregnant; minus sign you're not. At least Chance had picked an easy test to read. Plus, you lose the man you love; minus, you lose your heart's desire.

Even as this thought crossed her mind, she knew it wasn't as simple as that. She couldn't lose Chance, because she'd never really had him. For the past seven weeks, since the day she'd said “I do” to him, she might have pretended to herself that she had him, but that wasn't reality.

She'd allowed herself to fall in love with him, to entertain a small germ of hope that he might fall in love with her. She'd allowed herself to fall into the fantasy that what they'd shared in the past seven weeks wasn't a business deal or a bargain, but rather the solid basis for happily ever after.

Such a fool. She'd been such a fool.

Staring at the test window, she watched a bright blue plus sign appear. Her hands went to her stomach as joy fluttered through her. A baby. She closed her eyes as the thrill of her knowledge filled her.

Her sweet baby.

Chance's beloved baby.

In less than nine months, God willing, she would give birth to a healthy, beautiful baby. In less than nine months, she would be a mother.

Tears blurred her vision and she wasn't sure if they were tears of joy or tears of heartache. She swiped at them quickly, refusing to allow them to fall freely.

She knew Chance was waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. He was waiting to get the official results and she couldn't let him see how she really felt. Her pride would not allow it.

She tossed the test into the wastebasket, then left the bathroom and found Chance sitting at the table. She forced a smile and gave him a thumbs-up. “Mission accomplished,” she said.

He stood, looking surprisingly ill-at-ease. “Well…that's great. Congratulations.” He reached for her, and awkwardly they hugged. Almost immediately he stepped back from her, as if he didn't want to touch her.

Lana looked at her watch, trying to hide her heartache. “I'll probably have time to get packed up and get everything moved back to my apartment before dark.”

“Lana, there's no need to rush things,” he protested. He shoved his hands in his pockets, frowning thoughtfully. “You might as well stay here at the ranch until we get you in to see a doctor and get all the details squared away.”

A reprieve, she thought. Despite the fact she knew it was foolish to put off the inevitable, she clutched on to the temporary suspension of complete and total heartbreak. “I'll call and make a doctor's appointment first thing in the morning,” she replied.

He nodded and again an unusual awkwardness grew between them. Pulling his hands from his pockets, he eyed the bags of cabinet hardware they'd carried in. “I guess I'll get started on these cabinets,” he said.

“If you don't mind, while you're working in here, I think I'll go visit for a little while with my mother.” Lana hadn't seen her mom for a couple of weeks and suddenly found herself yearning for her mother's company.

“Sure. And take your time. We can just eat leftovers for dinner.”

Moments later Lana was in her car and driving toward the Colton estate. “And take your time.” Chance's parting words rang in her ears. Already it appeared he'd begun the separation process.

She would call the doctor in the morning and probably have an appointment by the end of the week and
then she would have to figure out not only how to distance herself from Chance physically, but emotionally as well.

Within minutes the Colton home came into view. The enormous house perched high above the Pacific, with a terra-cotta-tiled roof and covered porches with thick columns. Impressive and quietly elegant, the house spoke of wealth and power.

The outbuildings she passed before reaching the circular drive of the main house were neat and attractive and told of a thriving, successful ranch.

She pulled around the circle drive, then parked and got out. There had been a time long ago when everyone used the front door, often greeted by the warm, gracious Meredith herself.

But those days were long gone and Lana walked around to the side door, where most of the deliveries were made.

Her mother answered the door. “Lana,” she exclaimed, her dark eyes flashing with delight. “Come in, come in. I was just taking a little break with a cup of coffee.”

The Colton kitchen was huge, yet Lana felt at home as her mother led her to the long table where the people who worked for the Coltons and sometimes the two youngest children ate their meals. “How about a cup of coffee?” Inez asked once Lana was settled at the table.

“No, thanks, Mama. I'm fine.” To Lana's horror, she burst into tears.

Instantly Inez was at her side, her plump arms pull
ing Lana into an embrace. The familiar comfort of her mother's arms only made Lana cry harder.

“What is it, child?” Inez asked, a touch of fear radiating in her voice. “Are you hurt? Ill? Has something bad happened?”

Lana attempted to pull herself together, not wanting to frighten her mom. She moved out of Inez's embrace and swiped her tears with her fingertips. “Don't worry, it's nothing disastrous. I'm pregnant.” The words blurted out of her with a renewed stream of tears.

Inez sat back in her chair and frowned. “But I thought this marriage to Chance wasn't a real marriage. I thought it was just to help him inherit the ranch.”

Lana realized it was time to tell her mother the whole truth, the entire bargain she'd made with Chance. In halting words, she explained the situation and with each word her mother's frown etched deeper into her forehead.

“Oh, Lana, what would make you agree to such a thing?” Inez said when Lana had confessed all.

“I wanted to be a mother. I wanted a baby more than anything in the world.”

“Then why are you sad? It seems you got exactly what you wanted.”

Inez searched her daughter's face for a long moment, then sighed in obvious comprehension. “Ah, Lana, you played a dangerous game with your heart, and it appears it's a game you have lost.”

Lana nodded miserably. She realized now she should have followed through on her original plan to
be artificially inseminated. It was difficult to fall in love with a sterile needle.

“And so Chance has his ranch and you have your baby. What happens now?”

Lana shrugged. “Chance told me I can remain at the ranch until I see a doctor. Probably by the end of this week I'll be moving back to my apartment.” Once again misery rose up inside her.

Inez's dark eyes shone with her disapproval. “You should have told me the truth from the very beginning. Perhaps I might have been able to talk you out of it.”

“I thought I could handle it,” Lana said softly.

“Honey, I saw the way you looked at Chance when you were nothing more than a child. That boy had your heart before you were old enough to understand the ways of love. Your father and I used to lie awake nights worrying because you loved him so, and you were so young and so vulnerable.”

“I didn't realize I was still so vulnerable where he was concerned.” Lana sighed. “I love him, Mama. I love him more than I ever thought possible.”

“And how does Chance feel about you?”

Lana frowned. “I don't know,” she finally admitted. “He's so difficult to read.”

Inez nodded. “He was always closed off from every emotion other than his anger at his father. Tom Reilly scarred that boy deeply. He should have rejoined the army and left that boy to foster care instead of punishing Chance for his existence.”

“I think someplace deep inside I hoped that my love could heal those scars,” Lana admitted.

“You can't heal his scars, Lana. Only Chance can heal himself.”

Lana knew her mother was right. She'd hoped somehow she could love Chance enough that he would be able to forget the painful memories the ranch house contained, that he would be able to open his heart to loving both that place…and ultimately her.

But at no time during the past seven weeks that they'd had together had he indicated any desire to change the terms of their original agreement.

Lana drew a deep breath and forced a smile of assurance to her lips. “I'll be all right.”

“Well, of course you will,” Inez agreed somberly. “You are a Ramirez and that means you're strong.” Inez reached across the table and took Lana's hand in hers. “And you have a family that will stand behind you and support you as you raise your child.” She squeezed Lana's hand reassuringly.

Although her mother's words couldn't begin to assuage the pain that ached deep inside Lana's heart, there was a certain comfort knowing she would really never be alone. As long as she had her parents and her sister, her child would be secure in love and devotion from the extended family.

Both women looked up as the kitchen door flew open and Meredith Colton stalked in. She was impeccably clad in an ice-blue Versace trouser suit that complemented her dramatically blond-streaked hair and her shapely figure.

She would have looked stunning if not for the an
gry press of her lips and the glittering hardness of her brown eyes.

“Inez, I must tell you the meal last night was completely unacceptable.” Meredith didn't even acknowledge Lana's presence with a nod or a flicker of her eyes.

Inez stood, her expression one of studied dignity. “Could you be a little more specific, Mrs. Colton?”

Meredith's eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared slightly. “The chicken was overcooked, the vegetables were undercooked. The rolls were hard and the pastries were chewy. The centerpiece was wilted and there was a spot on the tablecloth. Is that specific enough for you?”

Lana felt her mother bristle beneath the imperious tone, but Inez merely nodded. “I'll see that tonight's dinner is perfect.”

“Good, I absolutely refuse to put up with shoddy work.” Meredith said, then turned on her heels and disappeared from the kitchen.

“That witch,” Lana exclaimed angrily. “Why do you stay here, Mama? Why do you put up with her?”

A shadow of pain swept over Inez's dark eyes. “I stay because I remember the loving, warm woman she was before. And I stay for Joe and the rest of the family.”

Lana's burst of anger seeped out of her. “I wonder what happened to make such a change in her. She used to be so kind, such a wonderful person.”

Inez frowned. “I don't know what happened to her. Who knows? Disillusionment, broken dreams… Nobody can know what makes a body so miserable.”

Later, as Lana drove back to the ranch, she thought about Meredith Colton and wondered what had happened to the woman she'd once been.

Somehow thoughts of Meredith and her unhappiness shifted to thoughts of Chance. If for some reason they would remain together, would Chance become a miserable, unhappy, hateful man, trapped into a place where he didn't want to be?

Was that what had happened to Chance's father? After Sarge Reilly's wife had died, had he longed to leave the ranch and rejoin the army only he couldn't because he had the responsibility of Chance?

It was ridiculous to speculate. If Chance had been willing to make a real go of their marriage, he would have already talked to her about that, he would have told her he loved her.

As she turned into the lane that led to the ranch, she felt the bittersweet warmth of a homecoming. After seven weeks, this place felt more like home than her apartment where she had lived for the past five years.

She knew that feeling of home came not from the structure and the land, but rather from Chance himself. Anywhere Chance was would feel like home to her.

A renewed wave of grief swept through her and she fought against it, knowing it was time for her to be strong and prepare to tell Chance Reilly goodbye.

 

Patsy Portman paced the lush carpeting in the master bedroom of the Colton estate. The cell phone in
her pocket banged against her hip as she walked back and forth, her mind racing.

There was only one person who had the number to this particular cell phone…one man who she had been waiting to hear from for the past week. She was waiting to hear from the man who she had hired to kill Emily Blair Colton.

Silas Pike had called her the week before and told her he'd finally gotten a lead on Emily and was headed to a small town in Montana. Patsy had told him not to call her again until the deed was done.

What could be taking so long? How difficult could it be to get rid of one young woman who was all alone in a strange town?

Over the past ten years Patsy had done everything possible to make certain nobody could discover that she was not Meredith. The only loose end there had ever been was Emily.

Emily—a pain-in-the-ass nuisance who couldn't leave things alone.

Initially, immediately after the car wreck and the switch of identities, Emily had suffered nightmares and talked about two mommies. But she'd been young enough that nobody had paid much attention to her wild stories about that fateful day on the highway.

As she'd gotten older and her nightmares continued, along with flashes of memories of that day, Emily had become a direct threat to Patsy.

Emily could destroy the charade that Patsy had so carefully constructed. Emily could make sure that
Patsy was cast out from the lavish lifestyle as a Colton.

There was no way Patsy was going to let that happen. She loved being Meredith Colton with all the power and privileges that came with that title.

It didn't matter to her that her “loving” husband, Joe, had nothing to do with her, could barely stand looking at her. She didn't need him. All she wanted from him was his name and his money.