Читать книгу The Nine-Month Bride - Judy Christenberry, Judy Christenberry - Страница 8

“How?” Lucas asked hoarsely. He hadn’t intended to break down in front of Doc—or anyone for that matter. He was embarrassed and anxious to get back in control.

“It’s simple. You marry the woman.”

He stared at the old man. Doc must’ve lost his mind. “I can’t do that, Doc, and you know it!”

“’Course you can.”

He jerked away from Doc’s touch. “No, I can’t. I can’t let myself—I loved Beth!”

“I know you did, son. But that doesn’t mean you can’t marry again. Lots of men do.” Doc moved back to his chair. “Come sit down and let’s talk about it.”

“No! When I lost Beth and my baby boy, I vowed I’d never—I can’t do that, Doc!” He clenched his jaw. A man didn’t cry, especially not where someone else could see him.

“You took a few hits that year,” Doc said calmly. “After all, your father had been dead only a few months. And your friend Billy died in that car crash in Denver. A rough time.”

Lucas shook his head and stared out the window. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. But it was easier than facing Doc’s pity.

“But that doesn’t matter, because I’m not asking you to love Miss Langston. Just to marry her.”

Lucas turned to stare at Doc. If he’d thought him crazy before, now he knew it. “Come on, Doc. She wouldn’t even consider what I offered today. If I tried that idea on her, she’d slug me.”

“Why?”

“Why? No woman would consider that kind of marriage proposal! It’s an insult.”

“It’s my belief there are a lot more marriages based on practical reasons than there are based on love. And if you look at it from a practical angle, it meets all of your and her requirements.”

“I don’t see how,” Lucas said, but he took the chair in front of Doc’s desk, listening intently.

Doc raised his hand and began counting off his reasons. “You get your son and someone to take care of him. And no gossip. She gets her baby and someone to support both of them. And no gossip.”

Put that way, Doc’s idea seemed simple. But Lucas didn’t think a female would think the same way. “I don’t believe Miss Langston would agree with you. In fact, I’m sure she wouldn’t. She hasn’t agreed with anything I’ve said!”

“Maybe you haven’t approached her right. You gotta give her a little romance, take her out to din—”

Before he could finish, Lucas jumped up from his chair. “Wait a minute! You said no romance!”

“Nope. I said no love. Women set a lot of store by romance. You know the things—flowers, gifts… All that takes is a little money and a little thinking.”

“I’m not going to mislead her,” Lucas muttered as he stared at the calendar on Doc’s desk. He didn’t realize his mistake until he looked at Doc and discovered a big grin on his face. “I haven’t agreed to it!” he hurriedly said.

“Just think about it, son. Just think about it.”

Susannah pulled herself together after a few minutes. It was foolish to wish for what she couldn’t have. She’d learned that lesson a long time ago when the petite, pretty blondes, girls like Beth Boyd, took the roles of cheerleaders, homecoming queens and popular dates, while the tall, gawky, plain girls sat home, waiting for the phone to ring.

It was no surprise that Lucas Boyd still loved his dead wife. And mourned his baby boy. His pain had touched her again. She could understand why he wanted a baby, even if he didn’t comprehend her reasons.

But she couldn’t give up her baby any more than he could.

She squared her shoulders and picked up the phone. She was going to have her baby.

She dialed the number written on the pad. After a conversation with the fertility clinic in Denver, she felt a little better.

Life was strange. Lucas Boyd had had all the things she wanted. Now, he was no better off than she was. Indeed, he was worse off, because he couldn’t have his child.

She emerged from her office and Abby immediately searched her face.

“I’m fine.” She even added a smile.

“If Luke insulted you, or hurt you, you tell me, girl. I love that boy, but I won’t tolerate him not treating you with respect.”

Susannah chuckled. Abby’s normally serene eyes were agitated and her lips were pressed together. It would be fun to see her take on Lucas Boyd. But Susannah couldn’t lie. “He didn’t hurt me, Abby. It was a misunderstanding, and he came to offer his apology.”

“An apology that made you cry?” she asked skeptically.

“I—I felt sorry for him. It’s so sad that his wife and child died.”

Abby didn’t look convinced but she didn’t ask any more questions. Unfortunately she turned to the one subject Susannah wanted to avoid more than Lucas Boyd. “What are you going to do about this baby thing?”

“Exactly what I planned to do. I called the clinic in Denver and I have an appointment next Friday for my initial examination.”

“You’re going to close the library?”

Friday was their second busiest day, but Susannah didn’t want to postpone the appointment. “No, I’m hoping to talk you and another volunteer into covering for me. Would you, please, Abby? I don’t want to wait.”

Since today was Friday, she already had to wait seven days. Seven long days. What if she discovered she couldn’t have children? Then she’d be just as bad off as Lucas Boyd.

Stop thinking about that man.

Easier said than done. He would be many a woman’s dream of Prince Charming. Prince Charming with an attitude. He was one of those men who thought women should be barefoot and pregnant.

“I still think you could find a man around here interested in settling down if you’d just make a little more effort,” Abby insisted. “Are you coming tomorrow night?”

“I don’t think so, Abby. I don’t know how to dance, and I won’t have time to bake something.”

“I’ll bake double. You promised me you’d come to the next social.” Abby had the determined look of a dog after a bone. “It seems a fair trade for keeping the library open for you next Friday.”

“That’s blackmail, Abigail!”

“Yep. Well? Is it working?”

She had promised. And she did need Abby’s help. “Yes, I suppose so. But I’ll do my own baking.”

“Just as well. The only thing I ever bake is a pecan cake. If you brought one, everyone would know I made it. Then folks would think you couldn’t cook. Can’t catch a man that way!”

“Abby! I’m coming to be sociable, not to find a man. I’ve already made my decision.” She stared at her friend, trying to make her position clear.

Abby turned limpid hazel eyes on her and said with a sugary voice, “Why, of course, Susannah. Just what I had in mind.”

Patting her gray hair, Abby slid off the stool behind the counter. “I’d better hurry home if I’m going to get my cake made tonight. Don’t you work late, either.”

“No, I won’t.” She had too much to do, what with baking a dessert for the church social and preparing herself, mentally at least, for next Friday’s date.

“Oh,” Abby said as she paused by the front door, “wear your prettiest dress, too.”

“Abby!” Susannah warned, but her friend was out the door with a wave.

Abby never gave up. At least she believed someday a man might be attracted to her friend. That was more than Susannah believed. But Abby’s faith was comforting.

Lucas surveyed himself in the mirror. Since he’d made his decision, he’d spent more time looking at himself than he had in years.

Was he dressed all right? His jeans were clean, his shirt pressed. The sports coat, kind of tweedy, still fit, though it wasn’t new. Beth had picked it out for him.

He ran his fingers over its lapel, his mind turning once more to his wife. They’d only been married a little over a year. She had been ten years younger than he, just a kid, when he’d fallen for her. Her folks lived on a farm close to town. She’d loved the ranch, the big house, lots of money to spend.

That was what he missed most. The way she’d enjoyed life. His dad had been sick the past two years, and Lucas had forgotten how to smile. When Beth came into his life, suddenly sunshine was everywhere.

For the past three years, it felt as if he’d been living in a cave.

Well, tonight was his coming out party. Doc had persuaded him to try his plan. Lucas still wasn’t convinced he could go through with it. But it did make sense.

He turned away from the mirror. His looks didn’t matter. And neither did memories. He needed to be practical.

When he entered the kitchen, Frankie was sweeping the room. “Did you fix a dish for me to take, Frankie?”

“Yeah, boss, but you know you don’t have to take anything. It’s the womenfolk that bring the food.” While he spoke, Frankie’s gaze was running up and down him.

“Is something wrong with the way I look?”

“Naw. You look real purty!” Frankie assured him with a chuckle.

“Watch it, you mangy coyote, or I’ll tell Mrs. Apple-worth that you’re longing for her company.”

Frankie shivered with fear. Mrs. Appleworth, already having married five times, was known for her interest in cowboys. “That lady would have me hightailin’ it out of the county, boss. And then who would cook and clean for an ornery cuss like you?”

“Okay, point taken. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he assured his cook and picked up the large bowl filled with potato salad. At least he’d gotten by Frankie without him commenting on his boss attending the party. Lucas hoped his entry would be noticed as little.

He’d timed his arrival for after the party had gotten into full swing, figuring he’d slip into the room while no one was looking.

Instead the music had just ended and suddenly it seemed everyone was staring at him. Then there was a concerted rush forward to greet him. Damn! You’d think he’d been in hibernation for a century.

“Luke! Good to see you! Didn’t know you were venturing out,” one neighbor said. Another commented on the last time he’d seen him, then hastily broke off his words because it had been the occasion of Beth and the baby’s funeral.

Someone else hurriedly asked about a problem on the ranch. One of the ladies took his bowl from him with a gracious smile, and then Doc took him by the arm and drew him into the big room.

He wanted to run the other way. Small talk was beyond him tonight. He had too much on his mind. Doc seemed to realize how he felt.

“You did fine, boy. First step’s the hardest. She’s already here, and lookin’ real nice. See her? On the other side of the room with Abby.”

He saw her. Susannah Langston did look nice. She wore a blouse that fitted her curves, surprising him, and a full skirt. And he’d been wrong. She didn’t have fat ankles.

The music started up again.

“Go ask her to dance,” Doc urged in a whisper.

“I just got here, Doc.”

“Never mind. It’s too late now.”

His head whipped around and he stared at the cowboy who was leading the librarian onto the floor. Max Daingerfield. He was a wiry cowboy from north of town who considered himself to be the life of the party. Sometimes he was a little too lively for the other guests.

Lucas clenched his teeth as he watched the man’s arm snake around Susannah’s waist and haul her up against him. Then he relaxed with a smile as the lady removed the cowboy’s hand from her hip, took a step away from him and made a brief remark.

At least Susannah was no more compliant with Max than she’d been with him.

“Hey, Lucas, heard you bought a new stallion,” one of his neighbors said, drawing his attention from the couple on the floor. Soon he found himself drawn into ranch talk, almost forgetting his reason for attending the party.

“Aren’t you gonna dance with her?” Doc finally whispered, as he dug his finger into Lucas’s side.

“What’d you say, Doc?” Joe Springer asked, standing beside Lucas.

“I was just suggesting Luke have a dance. If he can still remember how.”

Joe laughed. “I reckon it’s like a few other things,” he said with a wink. “Once you learn, you don’t forget.”

Lucas didn’t want to follow Doc’s suggestion. But he’d promised himself he’d give it the old college try. He surveyed the room and found Susannah leaving the dance floor with another partner. Had she danced every dance? Why was she looking for a donor if she could have her pick of men?

That thought didn’t make him too happy. He stomped across the room and hauled up in front of her. “Evening, Susannah. Want to dance?”

“Thank you, but I imagine I’ve mangled enough toes this evening.” She smiled but it wasn’t with the same warmth as he’d seen earlier.

He couldn’t believe she was turning him down.

The music started and he reached down for her hand. “I think my toes can handle the torture.”

“Mr. Boyd, I don’t want to dance with you!” she whispered as he pulled her to her feet.

“I kind of gathered that when you said no. But it’ll be a little too embarrassing to face everyone now. So I reckon you’ll dance whether you like it or not.”

She looked over his shoulder and then back to his face. “Everyone’s watching us.”

“I know. Unfortunately for you, this is the first time I’ve danced with anyone since—in a long time. That’s why I couldn’t just walk away. Sorry.”

His voice was gruff, but she didn’t seem to take offense. She tentatively put her hand on his shoulder as he began to move to the waltz.

“I’m not going to bite you,” he growled and pulled her a little closer.

“I didn’t think you would, but I don’t like to dance so close,” she informed him in a schoolteacher voice.

He grinned. “I know. I watched you straighten Max out.”

She leaned back and caught his grin. “Is he a friend of yours?”

“Nope.”

“Ah.”

Neither spoke for several minutes. Lucas noticed how small her waist was, how neatly she fit into his arms, the top of her head right next to his cheekbone. He even noticed how good she smelled. Like springtime in the mountains.

Beth had always worn a heavy scent, too sophisticated for—he’d promised himself he wouldn’t think about Beth. Not tonight.

“You haven’t managed to stumble over my toes yet,” he muttered, pulling her just that little bit closer, so that her breasts brushed against his chest when they turned. His groin tightened and he was suddenly very conscious that he was a man…and that Susannah was a desirable woman.

“I guess you’re lucky,” she said, her voice breathless, as if she’d been running a race.

“You tired?” he asked, frowning down at her. If she was in such bad shape, how would she handle having a baby? But she didn’t look weak.

She took a step back from him. “No, I’m fine. And the dance is almost over.”

“Counting the minutes, huh? Maybe I should tell you some women around here are eager to dance with me.” He hadn’t meant to sound so cocky, but she’d damaged his ego with her reluctance.

She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “How would you know, Mr. Boyd? According to you this is your first dance in three years. Maybe local taste has changed.”

He gave a cynical chuckle. “Money never goes out of style, Susannah, so I reckon I’m safe.”

“Is that why Beth married you?” she retorted and then gasped. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—I let my temper—I’m sorry.”

He’d stiffened in rage, but her immediate apology had made it impossible to vent his anger. So he clenched his jaw and continued to dance.

“Mr. Boyd, that was horribly rude of me. I’m sure your wife loved you very much. I—”

“You don’t know anything about Beth, Miss Langston, so keep your comments to yourself.”

And she did.

They circled the room, in each other’s arms, not speaking. Lucas regretted his rough words, but he was still angry. When the music ended with a flourish, the leader, Red Jones, stepped to the mike. “Grab your partner, fellas, and head for the tables. There’s good food awaitin’!”

Susannah acted as if she hadn’t heard the man’s words. She started away from Lucas as if walking away from a car she’d parked. He grabbed her arm.