Читать книгу Who Will Father My Baby? - Donna Clayton, Donna Clayton - Страница 10

An hour of torturous city traffic. Lacy groaned as she automatically reached to turn up the fan on her car’s air conditioner. August was a killer month in Virginia. It wasn’t actually the heat that made a person wilt like a cut flower, but the humidity.

She should have known not to rush out of town on a Friday afternoon. She should have waited until tomorrow morning when all the city employees were sleeping in and the roadways were clear. But she’d been too excited to wait a single minute longer to start her trip.

A mere two days had passed since she had pieced together her frequent thoughts of Dane Buchanan with her desire to have a child. In that time, she was able to find some sketchy information and a home address. But it had been enough to stir her excitement and get her on the road.

It was hard for her to imagine that her encounter with Dane had taken place nearly twenty years ago.

Encounter? A tiny voice in her mind questioned. It had been a date. A real, honest-to-goodness date complete with an end-of-the-evening kiss. A kiss, Lacy remembered, that had almost singed the wooden soles of the clogs she’d been wearing at the time.

Yes, but the facts of what had followed their one enchanted evening together were disillusioning. Dane had never called her. Never asked her out again, even though she’d blatantly suggested it. And when she had seen him on campus, usually in the library, she’d been the one who had made verbal contact. If she hadn’t approached him, he’d have been content with a nodded exchange of greeting. Finally, she’d had to face reality. Dane Buchanan hadn’t been interested in her in the least.

But that kiss…

How could he not have been as affected by it as she had been?

She sighed and gazed over at the map unfolded on the seat beside her. She still had a lengthy drive ahead of her.

To have discovered that he was still in the state had been a surprise. Lacy had explained to Sharon that Dane had the kind of intelligence that would have made him a hot commodity to businesses worldwide. If she remembered correctly, his major had been in one of the sciences. It would be easy to imagine him scouring the rain forests of the Amazon, hunting a cure for cancer. Or nestled away in a laboratory, inventing a new and phenomenal synthetic drug to be used as therapy for Alzheimer’s patients.

Stories about him had raged through the students like a fire gone wild all those years ago. Lacy had been terribly curious. She’d been bold, too, even as a freshman. Her brassy confidence had her asking the senior out for coffee…an offer he’d surprisingly accepted. For hours they had talked while their coffee had grown granite cold.

Dane Buchanan, she’d learned after playing a tough game of twenty questions with the young man, had earned an academic scholarship to an Ivy League university. However, he’d chosen to attend a local college in Richmond in order to be near his ailing father. That information alone had been enough to melt Lacy’s heart. He was president of the senior class, led the debate team to victory and was voted MVP of the football team. His dark good looks as well as his prowess on the football field led to his being approached by a New York modeling agency, and Lacy hadn’t blinked an eye when he’d told her he’d turned down their offer for work. He simply hadn’t seemed the type to flash his smile in front of a camera for money. Lacy smiled at the memory, his obvious embarrassment over the solicitation had been quite charming.

In that one short evening she’d spent with Dane in the café, she’d come to the conclusion that it would be easy for a girl to lose her heart to such a guy. He was everything a girl could want. He had brains. A ton of compassion. He was handsome as the devil. And when they had kissed good-night, Lacy had thought her toes were going to curl up into the arches of her feet!

Soon after that kiss, he’d mysteriously disappeared from the campus for nearly two weeks. And when he’d returned, it was as if their kiss had never happened.

Yes, he spent time with her in the library. On several occasions. He was always friendly, but at the same time, he never initiated contact, no matter how transparent she had made her own desire to date him.

Then a weekly newsmagazine had picked up Dane’s all-around success story. The journalist had dubbed him the Perfect Man, and Lacy had had to agree. She’d considered asking him out on another date, but before she could, final exams were upon her and she never found the opportunity. He graduated. Left the school. And she never saw him again. End of story.

Surely he was married, Sharon had warned Lacy. And she’d had to agree. He probably was. And his wife was certain to have been a Miss America contestant who had given birth to a brood of beautiful children.

Still, something inside Lacy had her braving Friday-evening rush hour in order to drive into rural Virginia to see the man. Maybe—just maybe—Dane Buchanan would live up to his Perfect Man title and become the perfect father. For her child.

“Let’s go into town for dinner tonight.”

Dane Buchanan glanced at the slate-gray sky and then leveled his gaze onto his father-in-law’s whiskered face. “Looks like rain, Alva. Weatherman’s calling for a downpour. You know how that creek is. We should be here to check the herd. Besides, I’ve got two steaks thawed in the fridge for us.”

“Aw, we have steak every Friday,” the older man complained as he latched the door of the barn. “A little rain never hurt nobody. Let’s chance it. Live a little. Couldn’t you go for a plate full of Lottie’s cheesy lasagna? I feel like some Italian food tonight.”

Dane dipped his head, suppressing a smile. He loved the way Alva said that word…with a long I, like in idea. The whole population of Italy would probably have taken offense. But of course Alva meant none. He was simply a good-hearted southern boy who spoke just like everyone else below the Mason-Dixon Line.

He suspected Alva’s hankering for pasta had less to do with lasagna and more to do with his wanting Dane and Lottie to have a chance to “keep company.” His father-in-law would probably be surprised to discover that Dane had figured out his plan, but Alva had been trying to fix him up for the past year. Before Lottie, it had been Cindy at the post office. And before Cindy, it had been Lorraine, the organist at the local Methodist church. It was clearly Alva’s opinion that Dane had been a widower long enough.

It was peculiar, Dane thought, that the father of the woman he’d married, the woman who had died so tragically because of his stupidity, would be doing everything possible to nudge other females into his path.

“Oregano upsets my stomach,” Dane told Alva. “Upsets yours, too. And Lottie uses the herb rather liberally in her cooking. You know that.”

“We could ask her to fry us some hamburgers. I’m sure she would.” He nudged Dane with his elbow. “I think she’s kinda sweet on you.”

Dane just shook his head. “Steak and a baked potato will do me just fine. And I’ve got chocolate pudding for dessert.” He pushed himself away from the fence and stretched the kinks out of his back, knowing full well his father-in-law would never be able to resist his favorite sweet. “But you go on into town, if you want.”

“Nah, that’s okay,” Alva yielded. “Steak sounds good.” His grin made his mouth go crooked, his eyes glisten. “I didn’t know you made pudding. I’ll just run on home and grab a shower. I’ll be at your place in thirty minutes, so go ahead and fire up that grill.”

Both men turned at the sound of tires crunching on gravel.

“Didn’t know you were expecting company.”

The candy-apple-red sports car had Dane’s eyebrows drawing together with curiosity. “I’m not. You?”

The short exchange was silly, really. The men worked side by side every day. They had no secrets. If Alva was going to entertain a visitor, Dane would have known about it and vice versa.

The car came to a halt in front of Dane’s brick rancher, about a hundred feet from where the men stood outside the door of the utility shed. A woman emerged from the automobile and made straight for the house, the sun haloing her short, flaxen hair.

“Woo-whee!”

Alva whispered under his breath, although at this distance there was no chance the woman could have heard him.

“Cute little thing, ain’t she?”

Cute was an accurate description. But little? Dane nearly chuckled. Her body was as curvaceous as a country road, seeming to invite a man to meander along the soft hills and valleys. And she was tall. With yards of tanned, shapely legs that tapered into sexy ankles.

Suddenly the August air became so hot he thought it just might scorch his lungs…if he could remember to pull a lungful of the stuff into his chest, that was.

“I’ll take your stunned silence as a yes.”

Alva laughed softly and gave Dane another poke with his elbow, breaking what could only have been described as some kind of strange, mesmerizing spell.

“She’s most likely selling something,” he grumbled. Dane did his best to hide the embarrassment he was feeling at being the butt of Alva’s humor. “Probably wants me to buy a set of encyclopedias, or some magazine subscriptions, or life insurance.”

“Well, boy,” Alva advised, “you’d best go take care of the matter. I’m off to find a cool shower and some clean clothes.”

His father-in-law’s comment made Dane suddenly aware of the dirt on his jeans, the dust coating his hot skin. Why something so trivial should rear up to bother him now seemed unfathomable. He’d worked hard today. Just as he did every day. Sweat and grime came with the territory of running a cattle business. There wasn’t much a man could do about that.

The woman was on his porch now, her hand raising to knock on the front door. Dane took a step toward the house.

“I’ll see you in a…” His words petered out when he saw that Alva had already disappeared around the shed to take the path that led to his cedar-shingled bungalow just over the rise.

Long strides had him across the grassy patch standing between him and the front porch in no time flat. Shifting his hat back from his forehead a fraction, he called, “Can I help you?”

She spun on the narrow heel of her skimpy little sandal. “Hi,” she said.

Her smile flashed bright as the summer sun, a direct contradiction to the steely clouds gathering overhead. Dane was struck with the oddest notion that he knew this woman.

“I’m looking for…”

The rest of her sentence trailed as she took a step toward him, recognition seeming to light her big blue eyes.

“Dane? Dane Buchanan?”

His heart jackhammered, and he wanted nothing more than to blame the long hours of hard work, or the heat from the summer day, but he’d be lying to himself if he did.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

Her voice had a lilting quality that started his memories churning—magnificent memories that he’d locked away in a vault years ago.

The pale pink lacquer on her long nails stood out against the royal blue of her blouse when her palm spread-eagled against her chest. “It’s me. Lacy.”

Lacy Rivers. His mouth seemed to draw into a smile of its own volition.

The years had changed her. She had filled out in all the right places. Cut off that glorious hair of hers. She looked polished. Businesslike. With a sexy edge that would drive a man wild. Much more sophisticated than the brash young woman in his memory.

The brash, fresh-as-a-spring-breeze girl who had nearly unraveled his well-laid plans all those years ago.

The thought thundered through his brain, crushing the warm, fuzzy memories, shocking the smile right off his lips.

“Lacy Rivers,” she continued. “Please don’t say you’ve completely forgotten me.”

He took the steps slowly, doing what he could to gather his wits as he went.

All he was able to say was, “How could I forget?” He took off his hat with one hand and reached the other out to her. She took it in both of hers, and he couldn’t decide if the sweat that prickled his forehead was from the oppressive heat and humidity…or the searing intensity of her skin against his.

Dane hoped like hell it was due to the soaring temperatures.

Her nails lightly grazed the outside of his wrist and the inside of his callused palm at the same time, and something deep inside him had him wondering how the hard length of them would feel on other parts of his body; his bare back, shoulders, arms and neck.

The notion so surprised him that he choked, jerking his hand out of her grip. He coughed once, and in an attempt to cover the awkwardness of the moment, he cuffed his fist against his chest.

“You okay?” Worry clouded her gorgeous sky-blue eyes.

“Fine, fine,” he said, taking a step back in retreat. He felt an overwhelming need to put a little distance between them. So he could think. Try to make sense of these strange thoughts invading his mind.

“It’s hot out here, and I’m feeling dry. I need something to drink.” A stiff shot of whiskey was what he needed to steady this odd shock that had walloped him but good. He opened the screen door and inserted the key into the dead bolt. “Can I get you something? I’ve got lemonade. Iced tea. Beer—”

“A beer would be great.” She pulled back on the screen door, taking the weight of it off his shoulder.

He twisted to face her, and she was so…close. The blue of her eyes was dazzling. The tip of her nose was appealing. The bow of her top lip was calling his name…luring him….

He swallowed. “Actually, it may be hot out here, but it’ll be worse inside. I don’t leave the air-conditioning turned on when I’m gone through the day. It’ll take a few minutes for the house to cool off.”

“Oh.” She nodded. “In that case—” she took a backward step “—I’ll wait here in the shade of the porch.”

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

He shoved open the door and, heaving a huge sigh, made his way through the living room and into the kitchen. He plunked his hat down onto the counter and turned on the water spigot. After he worked the soap into plenty of suds, he rinsed his hands and forearms. He splashed cool water onto his face and neck, and then took a moment to simply stand in the quiet.

All that could be heard was an intermittent splat as droplets of water fell from his chin and nose. He inhaled deeply. Exhaled slowly. But the chaos of his thoughts couldn’t be held at bay for long, and curiosity had him shoving himself away from the sink. What was Lacy Rivers doing here? After all this time.

Well, he wasn’t going to discover anything while he was hiding here in the kitchen.

He dried his face and hands, and then pulled open the refrigerator door. The beer bottles felt cool against his palms. On his way back through the house, he stopped to turn up the central air. Then he pushed his way back out onto the porch.

Perfect porcelain knees. That’s what met his gaze the second he exited the house. She reclined in one of the two rocking chairs on the porch, her bare, sun-kissed legs crossed, one slender foot swinging lazily, the hem of her skirt rising just enough to offer him a tempting peek at her well-contoured thighs. The pale pink paint that coated the tips of her toes matched that on her fingernails and made her feet look delicate and sexy as hell.

Seemed as if all his eyes wanted to do was examine the cute little dimples below her kneecaps, rove over those lusciously sculpted calves, shapely ankles, narrow feet. He dragged his gaze to her face only to become enthralled by her full bottom lip, that perfect nose, her brilliant, azure eyes.

The woman was like a beautiful sorceress who had ensnared him in some sort of spell. But Dane knew the only enchantment going on here had to do with the curse of his runaway libido. It was as simple as that.

“You are finished for the day, aren’t you?” she asked. “I’d hate to think I was keeping you from your work.”

“The cattle are taken care of,” he said, twisting off the top of one bottle and offering it to her. At that moment, he was struck by a thought. “I’m sorry. I should have brought you a glass.”

She shook her head, her silky blond locks bobbing. “This is fine. Thanks.”

He continued, “There’s always some chore waiting to be done around the place. But I’ve put in enough hours. I’m all through for today.”

“Good,” she said, then glanced around her. “Nice spread you’ve got.”

“Thanks.” He lowered himself into the matching rocker, pausing long enough to take a swig of beer. The cold, yeasty brew felt marvelous rolling down his throat. “I’m half owner. My father-in-law owns the other half. We’re partners.”

“You’re married?”

“Was. Helen died some years ago.”

She murmured a compassionate response, empathy flooding her face, softening her already stunning features, and Dane thought his heart was going to jump right out of his chest.

He accepted her sympathy with a nod, unable to bring himself to reply further. That part of his life was hard to even remember, let alone talk about. The conversation sagged for a few awkward seconds.

“Those cows out there in the pasture sure are pretty,” she said.

Dane couldn’t stop the chuckle that erupted from deep in his chest. “I’ve never heard Black Angus described as pretty before. Strong, maybe. Healthy. But never pretty.”

She lifted the beer, pressed her soft, glistening lips to the bottle’s rim and took a drink. He couldn’t take his eyes off the spot where her mouth met the smooth brown glass. Before he realized it, she was smiling at him again.

His tongue and throat felt as arid as a dusty cow trail, and he wondered if he was suffering a bout of sunstroke or something. What the hell was the matter with him?

Quick wit sparkled in her pretty baby blues. “I was only trying to offer you a compliment.”

He nodded. “I appreciate it. We breed them, you know. So your praise is well taken.”

Alva’s beat-up truck rolled over the hill then, and Dane couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice as he commented, “There’s my father-in-law now. I’d better go see what he’s up to.”

He stood, and so did Lacy.

“If you don’t mind,” she said, “I’d like to use your powder room. I’ve been on the road a good while.”

“Sure,” he told her. “It’s—”

“I’ll find it.” With a wink and a quick flash of a smile, she disappeared into the house.

That flirtatiousness caused a series of warm vibrations to trill through Dane’s innards. He sucked air into his lungs, hoping to settle himself, and then he flagged Alva to a stop as he descended the porch steps on wobbly knees. Boy, oh, boy, his father-in-law would tease him for a month of Sundays if he got wind of the ridiculous reaction Dane was having to Miss Lacy Rivers.

“Where are you off to?” he asked Alva. “I thought—”

“I changed my mind,” the older man said. “I want some lasagna. And I’ve reached the age where I should certainly have what I want. Hellfire, Dane, I might die in my sleep tonight, so don’t try to talk me out of it.”

Alva’s ruffled feathers didn’t fool Dane. He knew what the man was up to.

One of his eyebrows arched high as he accused, “So, you’re just going to leave me here in the clutches of an encyclopedia salesman?”

The delighted sound Alva emitted could almost have been described as a wicked cackle. “Saleswoman, don’t you mean, boy?” He paused long enough to grin. “You should buy yourself a set of books. A little reading never hurt any man.”

Dane only shook his head at his father-in-law’s antics.

Then Alva’s knowing gaze sobered. “But she ain’t selling anything, is she?”

“How’d you guess?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, eyeing the door of Dane’s house. “The two of you looked…familiar sitting on the porch together as I drove up.”

“Familiar?” Dane’s forehead knitted. “That’s a strange word to use.”

Alva shrugged. “You do know her, though, don’t you?”

“Sort of,” he had to admit. “We went to the same college together. But that was a lifetime ago.”

“So the two of you have plenty of catching up to do,” Alva surmised. “You don’t need me hanging around. And it’s getting late. Be a gentleman. Invite the little lady to dinner. She can have my steak.”

“You don’t need to do this—”

“I told you,” the old man interrupted Dane’s protest, his grumpy tone back full force, “I feel like having Lottie’s lasagna tonight.”

Dane only shook his head. There was no changing the man’s mind once it was set. “Well, I hope you’ve got some antacid tablets in your medicine chest. You’re going to need them later.”

“Aw, now, you know my stomach is clad in iron.”

“You’re gonna wish it was,” Dane quipped as he stepped back from the truck.

More laughter rumbled from Alva. “You have fun chattering about old times.”

The truck tires kicked up grit and pebbles as he pulled off down the lane.

Hunger pangs pinched Dane’s stomach and he turned back toward his home. In that instant, Lacy opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch.

“It’s got to be close to your dinnertime,” she called to him. “Let’s go into town and find something to eat.” Then she added, “It’ll be on me.”

Her tone made him pause. That coaxing quality in her voice was enough to lead him to believe she was up to something. But that thought was pretty silly. He didn’t even know Lacy Rivers. And she sure didn’t know him. They hadn’t seen each other in years and years. If she was up to anything, he sure was stumped over figuring out what it could possibly be.

“Maybe she does want you to buy some encyclopedias.” He murmured the words under his breath as he started toward her, doing his best to contain the humorous grin that the idea churned up.

“Pardon?”

He did chuckle then, taking the stairs two at a time. “I said, you don’t have to buy dinner. Besides, there isn’t a decent meal to be had in Oak Flat.”

“It is a small town, isn’t it?” she commented. “As I drove through, I noticed a diner, a post office, a small grocery store and a church. Not much else.”

“Sounds like you won’t be needing the grand tour. You already took it.”

“Hmm…I was hoping to find a hotel…”

He was vaguely aware of the concern shadowing her expression, but something more urgent called his attention.

What was that scent? An enticing, exotic aroma he couldn’t put a name to. But whatever it was, it had his blood pounding. He swiveled his head, inhaling slowly, deeply, and he realized the perfume was floating on the air around Lacy. The sensuous fragrance made his gut tighten.

The sensation overtaking him was so…odd. He drove agitated fingers through his hair.

“I am hungry,” he admitted, louder than he’d meant, wanting to focus on something—anything—other than her…other than the stirring and utterly unique scent of her. “I’ve got steaks for the grill, if you’d like to stay for dinner.” He eyed her warily. “You’re not vegetarian, are you?”

She grinned, and the dimple that formed in her left cheek caused a whirlwind of memories to buffet his mind. He remembered that sexy dimple. How he’d liked to make her smile just so he could see it. He remembered other things, too. The conversations they’d shared, filled with interest and fun. The utterly spontaneous laughter. The serious debates. That kiss…

He shoved the dangerous thoughts from him.

“I’m a meat-and-potatoes kind of girl.”

“Good,” he said. “We’ve got plenty of that around here. Let me fire up the coals, and while they’re burning to embers, I’ll grab a quick shower. Then, over dinner, you can tell me what brings you to Oak Flat.”

Before too long he left Lacy Rivers in the kitchen washing the fresh greens that would make the salad she’d insisted on helping with.

In the bathroom, he stripped out of his clothes and turned on the shower. Full blast.

Memories bombarded his brain. The indecision he’d suffered. The worry. The temptation. The sleepless nights he’d spent praying for resolve. The fear that he wouldn’t have the strength to do the right thing. But in the end he had. He’d succeeded in putting his own frivolous and selfish desires aside.

But Lacy had come back into his life. And as the cool water sluiced down his body, he couldn’t help but conclude that he was once again experiencing the same reaction—or should he say the same uncontrollable attraction—he’d had to this woman all those years ago.