Читать книгу The Nine-Month Bride - Judy Christenberry, Judy Christenberry - Страница 6

“What’s wrong with the old-fashioned way?”

Susannah Langston could feel the heat rise in her cheeks, but she kept her chin up. She was an intelligent woman, an educated woman. She wouldn’t allow this…this scientific discussion to embarrass her.

“In case you didn’t know, Doctor,” she began crisply, “it takes two people to create a child the old-fashioned way.”

The elderly medical man gave a rusty chuckle. “Well, I reckon they explained that in my first class. Not that I didn’t already learn that lesson in the back seat of my—never mind.” He cleared his throat. “Now, Miss Langston, I don’t know where you came up with this crazy idea—”

“Doctor, artificial insemination isn’t crazy, nor is it new.”

“Hell, I know that. We’ve been doing it to the animals for years. But it seems a shame—”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not asking for your personal opinion,” she said gently but firmly. “All I want to know is where do I have to go to have it—to get the procedure performed.”

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “You’re all-fired set on this, aren’t you?”

“Yes. My decision is not a whim. I’ve carefully thought out the complications, and I believe the reward will far outweigh the difficulties.”

“You realize a pregnant woman without a man around will draw some talk even today? We’re still a small community.”

Susannah squared her shoulders. “If gossip becomes a problem, I can move to a new community after the birth of my child and pass myself off as a divorcée.” In this day and time, single motherhood shouldn’t carry a stigma, but she realized what should be and what was were sometimes two different things.

With a gusty sigh, the doctor leaned across the desk. “I believe I could do the job right here, Miss Langston. We don’t have the capabilities of a major hospital, but, assuming you have a donor in mind, I could impregnate you with his sperm.”

Damn! Susannah closed her eyes. Then her determination surged, and she stared at the doctor. “I don’t have a—a donor. I assumed I’d go to a sperm bank.”

She’d read articles in the magazines at work, in the library in Caliente, Colorado, where she spent her days. Sperm donors weren’t in big supply in the library. Males weren’t in big supply in the library. Only books. And dust.

The library was quite large for such a small town. It, and the money to hire her, had been a gift to the town from one of its late citizens who died with no heirs. Only books. Like her.

“Well, of course, that’s how the normal person would go about it if we had a sperm bank. But we don’t. And it’ll be real expensive if you go into Denver.”

She tried to hold his gaze, but there was a speculative look in his eyes that bothered her. “I’ve saved a lot of money.”

“Hmm. If there was someone locally…”

He was staring beyond her shoulder now, his eyes almost glazed over in contemplation. Susannah wanted the interview to be over.

“Doctor, can you tell me the name of a group in Denver, or a hospital, where I can begin the process? That’s really all I wanted. I want to go to the best facility for this…procedure.” She should have done research and not bothered with this interview, but Abby, her best and dearest friend, had suggested Doc Grable.

“I think I know a donor,” the doctor abruptly said, bringing his gaze back to her.

Susannah’s eyes widened, and she blinked several times as she took in his bizarre statement. “What?”

“I think I know someone locally who would be a donor. And a damn good one, too. Good blood. Make you a fine baby.”

“I don’t think—”

“You go talk to him. I think he’ll be willing. It’ll help him, too.”

“What do you mean?” Help him? How could donating sperm help a man? “I don’t want someone from around here. It would cause all kinds of problems.”

“None that I can see. And it would save you a bundle of money. Unless you’ve got more money than the city’s payin’ you, that has to be a concern. Having children these days, even the old-fashioned way, isn’t cheap.”

Susannah chewed on her bottom lip, a habit from her childhood she’d tried to rid herself of. Money was a concern, since she was alone in the world. But—

He shoved a piece of paper across the desk. Picking it up, she read a name and directions. Lucas Boyd. She didn’t know the man, but she did know he had a large ranch in the area. Certainly he didn’t visit the library. And she’d never seen him at church.

“Why?”

“Why what?” the doctor asked in return, his eyebrows rising.

“Why would this man want to—to be a donor?”

“I can’t discuss why. That would be breaching a patient’s confidentiality. All I can do is tell you to discuss your, ahem, needs with Lucas. What can it hurt? And it could save you a lot of money. Plus time.”

“Time? I have two weeks’ vacation coming. I thought that would be—”

“Lord have mercy. These things don’t always take right away. You’re not going to the supermarket doing your weekly shopping, my dear. Sometimes it takes months.”

“Yes, but—”

“Go see Lucas. I’ll tell him you’re coming. Can you go right now?”

“Yes, but—no, I—well, all right, I suppose I could but—surely it would be better if I waited until you talked to him, gave him some time to think about what—” Susannah had never felt more flustered in her life.

“Naw. Right now. I’ll call and tell him you’re on your way.” He waited, watching her until she finally nodded.

“If Lucas won’t solve your problem, then I’ll draw up a list of the finest doctors in Denver. There are only a couple I’d trust with such a delicate matter, you know.” He stood and came around the desk to pat her shoulder as she rose. “I’m glad you came to me with your problem, Miss Langston. One way or another, we’ll take care of it.”

Suddenly she found herself on the other side of the door with it closed firmly behind her. She stared at the piece of paper. What had come over her? To agree to discuss such a personal thing with a stranger? To ask this—this stranger to be the father of her child?

The trembling that seized her almost took her legs from under her. She reached out for the wall.

“Are you all right, Miss Langston?” the rosy cheeked nurse who’d worked for Dr. Grable for thirty years asked. She was a frequent visitor to the library.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Susannah hurriedly said. “Miss Cone, do you know—know Lucas Boyd?”

“Well, a’course I do. He’s lived here all his life. He’s a good man.”

Without meeting her gaze, Susannah smiled, hoping her lips didn’t wobble on the ends as much as her knees were doing. “I—thanks. I’ll see you later—at the library, I mean.”

“Sure. I’ll be in Saturday, as usual. Those last books you recommended were wonderful.” With a big smile and a wave, she headed down the hall to another patient’s room.

Susannah drew a deep breath and hurried from the office before someone else noticed her shakiness. She certainly didn’t want to find herself back in the doctor’s office.

Once she was behind the wheel of her car, she looked at the piece of paper the doctor had given her. It was damp and wrinkled, but she could still read the directions.

Directions to certain embarrassment.

She squared her shoulders. You promised yourself you’d go through with your plan, no matter how embarrassing it might be. And it would be embarrassing. But no more so than being the oldest living virgin in the entire state.

With a sigh, she started the car. Yes, she’d promised herself. She refused to continue to limit her life to rows and rows of books. Beloved books, but still only books.

She wanted more out of life. She wanted a child to nourish, to shower with love. With whom she could be a family. Even if it meant embarrassment.

Lucas Boyd’s housekeeper, Frankie, a cowboy injured by a bull a few years earlier who found riding more painful than sweeping floors, chased him down in one of the big barns beyond the house.

“Luke? You in here?”

“Yeah, Frankie. What’s up?”

“The doc wants you to call him. Now. He said it’s important.”

Lucas patted the mare as he moved around her, his heart suddenly racing. “Did he say why?”

“Nope.”

“Thanks, I’ll be right there.”

He stood still until he heard the slam of the door, signifying Frankie’s return to the house. Drawing a deep breath to calm the excitement and fear that rushed through his veins, he began a slow, steady walk to the house.

Nothing to get excited about. Probably had nothing to do with the request he’d made when he visited Doc last week. Doc couldn’t have found someone so fast, could he?

Hell, he’d been so unenthusiastic, Luke had figured he wouldn’t hear from Doc at all. But Lucas had come to his decision logically. Three years was long enough to mourn his late wife, his beautiful Beth, and the tiny baby boy delivered stillborn.

Lucas knew he couldn’t risk his heart again. That was too painful. But he needed a son to carry on the tradition of the family ranch. And to make the future worthwhile.

Doc Grable didn’t agree with his decision to find a surrogate mother. The old geezer thought he had a right to interfere in Lucas’s plans because he’d delivered him into this world. But it looked as though he’d changed his mind. Maybe Lucas owed him an apology.

Instead of using the phone in the kitchen, where Frankie could always be found, Lucas passed through to his office.

“Doc? It’s Lucas Boyd. You wanted me to call?”

“Yep. I’ve sent one out to you. It’s up to you, now. I still think it’s a fool idea, but I’ve done what I can for you.”

He wasn’t going to have that argument again. “Thanks, Doc. When?”

“She should be on her way now, if she doesn’t get cold feet. Name’s Langston.”

Before Lucas could ask for any more information, Doc’s gravelly voice said, “Gotta go. Patients.” Then the dial tone rang in Lucas’s ears.

His hand was shaking when he hung up the phone. There was no going back now. He stood, then realized he wasn’t prepared for a social visit. He smelled of the barn.

“Frankie!” he shouted as he rushed toward the stairs. “I’m hitting the shower. If—if I have a visitor, ask them to wait.”

Because his future was right around the corner. And he didn’t want to miss it.

“Luke, there’s a lady to see you,” Frankie shouted up the stairs.

A lady.

Lucas took one last look in the mirror, feeling foolish. He seldom studied himself, but it was important that he make a good impression on the lady downstairs.

After all, she was going to be the mother of his son.

Drawing a deep breath, he smoothed back his hair and then hustled down the stairs before nerves could get the best of him. Knowing Frankie would’ve put the visitor in the seldom-used living room, he paused on its threshold to take his first view of her.

She looked up as he appeared, then stood. Not a beauty, like his Beth. Her features were bland, and she was tall, lanky, almost. Somehow, those differences made what he was about to do easier. That, and the fact that he’d never seen her before.

“Mr. Boyd?”

“Yes, ma’am. Are you Mrs. Langston?”

“Miss Langston,” she said, correcting him.

He frowned. In his mind, he’d assumed whoever agreed to his terms would be married, a mother already. From what he’d read, that was the typical profile. “You’re not married?”

“No.”

She added nothing to her blunt reply, but her gaze continued to meet his. He liked that. His son shouldn’t have a timid mother.

Suddenly realizing they were both still standing, he crossed the room and gestured toward the sofa behind her. “Please, be seated.”

As she sat down, he noticed her skirt was long, hiding her legs. Probably has fat ankles, he speculated. Doesn’t matter for a boy, he assured himself. Dark hair, like his. Beth had had pale blond hair, spun gold, an angelic halo. And a beautiful smile.

This lady wasn’t smiling.

Of course not. Having a baby was serious business. He cleared his throat. “I assume you have no health problems.”

She stiffened and then frowned. Dark brows rose and she tilted her head as she stared at him. “No. Do you?”

“None.”

Tense silence fell, and Lucas tried to think of what he needed to say. “You understand that afterward… I mean, there’ll be no contact between us?”

Her reaction was curious. A sigh of relief moved through her and a hopeful smile formed on her lips. Even that half smile made him reevaluate his impression of her. Her brown eyes warmed and a touch of color enlivened her pale cheeks. The severe style of her hair, pulled back into a bun low on her neck, didn’t change, but she looked younger somehow.

“How old are you?”

She blinked several times. “Thirty-two. And you?”

“Thirty-three.” He studied her. Yes, she looked that old. He might even have said a year or two older. “You’re sure you’re young enough?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” she replied, her jaw squaring.

One eyebrow slipped up in surprise as he stared at her. Not any of his business? She was going to have his son. “I want this…our agreement to be successful.”

“My age is not a problem,” she said firmly, looking away.

“Okay.” He’d take her word for it since Doc had sent her. What would be the point of sending someone who couldn’t have a baby? “Do you have any questions?”

“I—I know why I’m doing this, Mr. Boyd, but I don’t understand…what are your reasons? Is compensation involved?” As she finished, she looked around the room, as if evaluating his worth.

“Didn’t Doc explain the terms?”

She shook her head. “He said it would be a breach of confidentiality.”

“Well, it’s pretty simple. I want you to have my son, and I’m willing to pay.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, waiting for her response.

“You’ll pay? But—but why?”

His eyes narrowed as he studied her. She was willing to go through the pregnancy gratis? Something wasn’t right. Was she some kind of freak?

“I’d expect to. I’m asking a lot.”

“I assure you, Mr. Boyd, payment isn’t necessary on your part. I’m even willing to pay you.” She raised her chin, as if expecting him to take her up on her offer.

He stood and shoved his hands into his back pockets. “Let me get this straight, Miss Langston. You’re willing to get pregnant, have my son and then disappear, for free?”

“If you feel that my leaving the community is necessary, yes, I’m even willing to do that. The baby and I will find another home.”

“You and the baby?” he gasped before responding to her in hardened tones. “The baby stays here, Miss Langston. We’re agreed on that.” He glared at her, wondering what her game was.

She rose, alarm on her face. “No, of course not, Mr. Boyd. The baby is mine.”

“Damn it! What would be the point? I want my son! Why else would I go through the embarrassment of—”

“You thought I would give you the baby?” she demanded, her features tightening.

“Isn’t that what a surrogate mother is? Someone who gives birth to the baby and then hands it over?”

“But you’re supposed to be a sperm donor. Not a—you can’t keep the baby.”

“You think I would allow anyone, anyone,” he repeated for emphasis, “to take my child away? I’ve already lost one son. I’m not about to lose another one.”

They were almost nose to nose now, his hands on his hips as he challenged her. She was even taller than he’d thought, only a few inches shorter than he was. Beth had been a petite doll, not even as high as his shoulders.

His visitor reached down behind her for the large shoulder bag she’d left on the sofa. “Clearly we have both— I have made a mistake. Dr. Grable suggested you as a sperm donor for my pregnancy. I apologize for wasting your time.”

“You mean you’re not willing to be a surrogate mother?” Lucas demanded.

“No.”

Again she didn’t waste any words. As she moved to step around him, he caught her arm. “I’m offering a lot of money.”

Tugging at his hold on her arm, she didn’t meet his gaze. “That’s wonderful. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

“You’re not interested?”

Her brown-eyed gaze flew to his eyes briefly before she stared at his hand clutching her arm. “No.”

“You haven’t even asked how much.”

Again she stared at him. “Which should tell you I have no interest in your…intentions.”

“Then why did Doc send you?” he demanded in frustration. From the moment he’d gotten Doc’s message, he thought his problem had been solved. He’d almost imagined himself holding his child.

“You’ll have to ask Dr. Grable that question, Mr. Boyd. I also have some questions for the good doctor.” Her lips tightened, and he noticed their fullness for the first time.

Again she tugged at his hold, and this time he released her, stepping back, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “You can name your terms, Miss Langston. I’ll be generous.” His jaw tightened as he waited for her to ask for some outrageous sum. But he was so close to having his dream. He was willing to pay.

Her response wasn’t what he’d expected. Instead of a calculating stare, he received a soft smile, gentle almost, as she said, “My dream is just as important to me as yours is to you, Mr. Boyd. I can’t do what you’re asking, for any amount of money. I’m sorry I took up your time.”

Without waiting for an answer, she walked out of the room, taking his dream with her.