MADE IN TEXAS Page 12

  She flushed. "I told them that you spent the night because I was afraid of thunderstorms."

  "And are you?" His warm hand slid above her knee, his long fingers disappearing under the hem of her khaki shorts.

  "Well, yes. A little." She was more afraid she was going to fall backwards off the fence if his hand slid any higher up her thigh.

  "Have you ever been made love to on a pile of hay?"

  "Not lately, no."

  "Ever?"

  "No." She wriggled. "Stop that."

  "I can promise you it won't take long." He smiled and lifted her off the fence. "Unless you want it to last all afternoon."

  "We can't do this," she muttered, but he was leading her toward the barn, and she followed willingly. "What about John?"

  "Went to town to pick up supplies. And the boys?"

  "In school. I pick them up at two-thirty." She saw him look at his watch, and then he smiled.

  "That gives us an hour and a half. Plenty of time."

  "You lied," she murmured later from a lovely position in the hayloft. She was sprawled on top of Cal's naked body. He lay on an old horse blanket on a pile of hay, his hands caressing her bottom and keeping her from wriggling away. Sunlight filtered from the cracks in the barn boards, and the heat was intense. Addie decided she could blame her increasing dizziness on sexual satisfaction.

  "About what?"

  "We didn't have plenty of time. I have to hurry up and get to town now."

  "Too much kissing," he said. "Next time we're going to skip all the foreplay and go right to the good stuff."

  "Okay. I like the good stuff." She laughed and knew she was definitely in trouble. In love and in trouble. Anyone would tell her this was the perfect situation, to be in love with the man who'd fathered her child. But if he wasn't in love with her?

  She gazed down at him. He was still inside of her, though she could rectify that easily enough. He looked sexy and content, satisfied and pleased with himself and the way he'd spent a hot Friday afternoon. But he wasn't in love with her. She knew better than to delude herself into thinking this was more than pure lust.

  "What?" He frowned. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing. I have to go."

  "Want to go dancing tonight? Billy's is sure to have a band."

  "Can't." She slipped off him and fell onto the blanket where her clothes lay in a pile. "The boys are having a new friend spend the night. We're renting movies."

  "Maybe next week."

  "Maybe." She dressed quickly, as did Cal. She didn't question why she felt the need to hurry away. She supposed she didn't want him to see that she was falling in love with him. How embarrassing that would be for both of them.

  Then Addie realized that she was standing in a hayloft with straw sticking out of her bra.

  * * *

  "So, you two went out to dinner a few weeks ago." Addie's mother handed him a tall glass of lemonade. "I hope you like vodka."

  "Thank you." Cal sat down on one of the new porch rocking chairs and wondered if Addie was going to join them soon. "Where's Addie?"

  "Inside putting the finishing touches on dinner. I'm to keep you out of the kitchen until she's ready. She's feeling better now that she has the air-conditioning all through the house. It's a good improvement, don't you think?"

  "Yes, ma'am." He hadn't seen much of Addie for the past few weeks. There had been no more hayloft visits, and his offers to go out to dinner had been sweetly rejected. The invitation to dinner tonight had been a welcome surprise, though he'd known it would be a family meal, with John included, too. "I think she's feeling fine."

  In fact, Addie had been looking damn good. And he even thought she might be gaining weight.

  Paula looked relieved. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "I've wanted to talk you for a while now. I think it's wonderful that you and my daughter are dating each other."

  "Dating," he repeated, wondering if that one dinner out qualified. And Paula thought it was wonderful? That was a shock.

  "You know," she said, pausing to take a large swallow of her drink. "People make mistakes."

  "Yes, they sure do." Cal decided he needed to be drinking, too. He looked over his shoulder, hoping to see John appear in the yard, but he was alone with Paula and there was no escape in sight.

  "Everyone does," the woman continued. "Some are bigger mistakes than others, of course. But things happen between two people, especially when one of those people is lonely and may have had too much to drink."

  "I'm afraid that's true," he managed to say. Shit. Paula knew about that night at Billy's. Why in hell had Addie told her mother about it? He would never understand women and their need to tell each other everything they did.

  "I love my daughter and I don't want to see her hurt, Cal."

  "I would never hurt Addie," he promised, feeling a little desperate to explain himself. "That night at Billy's just happened. We got a little carried away, I'll admit, but that was out of character for both of us." There. He hoped she wouldn't toss him off the porch, but hell, she was the one who'd brought it up. She stared at him like she'd never seen him before. Her mouth opened but no words came out. "Mrs. Johanson? Paula?"

  "You're the father? You?" She leaned back in the rocker and blinked. "How on earth did that happen?"

  "I'm the father? The father of what?" What the hell had the woman put in his drink? Cal frowned. "What are you talking about?"

  "Addie's going to have a baby," she said. "By some man she met on Valentine's Day. And since the two of you are dating and you seem like a good man to have around, I hoped I could pave the way for you to understand what happened and maybe, you know, forgive her. Stand by her. Be here for her." Paula's eyes filled with tears. "I was trying to explain that my daughter doesn't go around sleeping with men she meets in bars, so that when the time came, you'd understand and wouldn't dump her. And now I find out that you're the man in the bar. I can't believe that you two knew each other all this time."

  The damn condom. He'd suspected that it broke that night, but he'd been in such a hurry to go after Addie that he hadn't paid much attention. He'd just been trying to get dressed so that he wouldn't lose her.

  "This is all too much," Paula muttered, draining the rest of her drink. "Addie should have told me."

  "Addie should have told you?" He laughed, but he wasn't amused. "I think she should have told me, don't you?"

  "I'm sure she was going to," Paula said, but she didn't sound convinced. "I mean, you were going to notice sooner or later, weren't you?"

  "Yeah." He stood and turned to head into the house. "I think it's time your daughter and I talked about this, don't you?"

  "Now?" Paula jumped out of her chair and put her hand on his arm. "This might not be the best time to—"

  "Mrs. Johanson—"

  "Paula," she corrected, looking up at him with a worried expression. "This is all my fault, Cal. I shouldn't have meddled."

  "It's between Addie and me now," he said. He was going to be a father. Addie was pregnant. No wonder she'd been feeling poorly. All that time, and she hadn't told him. Why the hell not? Was she intending to tell him, or was she going to let him think the baby belonged to someone else? And what if it did? No. It was his, only his. He'd bet money on it.

  "Of course you want to talk to her, but could you wait until after dinner?" She trailed after him as he entered the house and strode into the kitchen. He smelled roast beef and apple pie, heard the laughter of the children and saw red and white balloons hanging from the chandelier over the battered farm table. There was a fancy, red tablecloth and crepe paper streamers, country music blaring from the stereo in the den and Addie, an apron tied around her waist, smiling at him.

  "Happy birthday," she said, her beautiful eyes filled with laughter as she noted his stunned expression.

  "Happy birthday!" the boys yelled, and John clapped him on the shoulder.

  "Sit down," Addie said, motioning him toward the seat at the head of the table. "Th
e boys and I have been planning this all week. Are you surprised?"

  Cal forced his frozen lips into a smile. "Yes," he managed to say. "I've never been more surprised in my life."

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  «^»

  Addie blinked back the sudden spring of tears. Obviously Cal had never had a surprise birthday party before, or he wouldn't have looked so shocked. The man had actually turned pale as he stood in her kitchen. She knew he'd grown up in group homes, but she hadn't expected him to react this way to a simple birthday. The boys were all over him, but he didn't seem to notice their excitement except to tousle Ian's hair and pat Matt on the shoulder. He stood there by the table and stared down at her as if he'd never seen her before.

  "Sit down," she said again. "You're the guest of honor so you sit here."

  He sat, but so slowly she wondered if he was all right. Come to think of it, he didn't look too happy about his party. She hoped he wasn't one of those people who hated birthdays. The boys bounced around him, chattering about how they'd helped frost the cake and wrap the presents. John chuckled and asked how it felt to be forty. And her mother, who looked a little flustered by all the commotion, refilled Cal's drink.

  "Here," Paula said, setting another spiked lemonade on the table. "Drink up. I'll make another pitcher right away."

  "We thought you should have a party, especially for your fortieth," Addie said, placing a platter of sliced roast beef on the table. "Come on, everyone. Sit down and eat."

  "I wish I could remember when I turned forty." John took a seat next to Paula, with Matthew next to him. "Sure was a long time ago, though. I don't think I had a party. You feel any older, Cal?"

  "Yes," he said, giving Addie a strange look. "I sure do."

  She put the rest of the food on the table and sat down on Cal's right, Ian beside her. Cal stared at her apron and she hurried to untie the old thing. She'd bought a new mint green sundress for the occasion, something that looked cool and made her appear slim, but she was afraid that she couldn't hide her condition much longer. Next week, she promised herself. She'd gather her courage and tell him next week.

  "You look very pretty tonight," Cal said, taking two slices of meat from the platter John offered him.

  "Thank you."

  "New dress?"

  "Yes." She blushed and passed the bowl of whipped potatoes to him. "Gravy?"

  "Please."

  Cal helped Matthew fix his plate as if he'd been doing it for years, but he didn't smile. He didn't look happy about his party

  "Mom made a pie, too," Ian announced. "In case Mr. Cal doesn't like cake. Do you like cake?"

  "Yes," Cal said. "I like it a lot."

  Matt grinned. "I said you liked cake. With choc'late frosting."

  "Absolutely."

  Addie watched him with the boys and her heart lifted. Maybe this could work out somehow. Maybe he would hold her and tell her that he was in love with her, too. That he would move heaven and hell to make her happy

  She was wrong, she discovered later. He led her outside after John and Paula had volunteered to clean up the kitchen and the boys had fought over putting the candles on the cake.

  "When were you going to tell me?" Cal stood looking down at her and waited for an answer.

  "It was a surprise party, Cal. That was the point."

  "About the baby, Addie," he countered. "When were you going to tell me about the baby? Or were you?"

  "I was," she replied, her heart racing. Had he noticed the roundness of her belly and figured it out? Oh, Lord. "Of course I was."

  He didn't look convinced. "How much longer were you going to let this go on? Until you needed a ride to the hospital?"

  She put her hands on the small swell of her abdomen. "I'm barely three months pregnant, Cal. I didn't know what you'd say, and I didn't want you to think I was trying to trap you into marriage or anything."

  "Or anything," he repeated, wincing. "You didn't think I deserved to know?"

  Addie lifted her chin. "I decided it wasn't going to be your problem."

  "You decided?" The man looked as if he was going to explode. "You're having my child and you didn't want to involve me?"

  "I didn't think—"

  "Mom! We got the candles on!" She turned to see Ian poking his head out the door. "We gotta light the candles now!"

  "We're coming." She turned back to Cal. "They want to sing 'Happy Birthday' to you. Come on."

  "We'll talk later, Addie," he said, his gaze dropping once more to her abdomen as if he couldn't believe there was a baby growing inside.

  "Yes," she promised, though she would have rather scrubbed horse stalls. How she managed to get through the next hours, she didn't know. Cal obligingly blew out his candles and assured the boys he'd made a wish. He opened his presents—a new pair of work gloves from John, the new Johnny Cash CD from Paula—and dutifully admired the new boots she and the boys had picked out for him in town.

  "John told us what size," Addie said, hoping Cal wouldn't think she'd been snooping through his house. "And of course you can exchange them."

  "They're great," he assured her as the boys hugged him and leaned against his chair. "Thank you."

  "Cake," Ian said. "You want ice cream, too?"

  Yes, Cal wanted ice cream. Cutting the two-layer chocolate cake, slicing the pie and dishing out ice cream gave Addie a reason to keep busy. Her mother kept looking at her with a worried expression.

  "I'm sorry," Paula whispered later, when the men had taken their coffee, and the twins, into the den. "I let the cat out of the bag."

  "You told Cal?"

  "Well, I didn't know he was the father. I was just talking about how people make mistakes." She set a stack of dirty dishes by the sink. "I was doing a little matchmaking and it backfired."

  "No kidding." Sometimes she wished she'd been an orphan. "He's angry about this."

  "He'll get over it. This actually couldn't have worked out better," Paula continued, reaching for a sponge. "This thing with you and Cal, well, it's like it was meant to be."

  "Not really, Mom. I think you're simplifying things too much. Just because Cal and I have been, um, intimate, doesn't mean that we're automatically meant for each other."

  "You could do worse," her mother sniffed. "And sometimes the most simple solutions are the best."

  "I'll keep that in mind." But she didn't think any of this was going to be simple. Not from the expression on the rancher's face when he looked at her stomach as if she was incubating an alien from Mars.

  * * *

  "Come outside with me."

  "Just a sec. I have to put—"

  "Now, Addie. Your mother will take care of the boys," Cal said, then raised his voice. "Paula? Addie and I are going to my place for a while."

  "Take your time," she called, ensconced on the sofa with both boys snuggled up next to her. "We're watching Bonanza."

  "Bonanza?" Cal gathered up his birthday gifts.

  "It's their latest obsession." Addie looked as if she was going to run, not that he blamed her. He'd heard pregnant women were sensitive, and he could believe it. He'd spent his birthday meal looking at her and remembering the times she'd gotten dizzy, and how he'd seen her eating crackers and looking sick. He should have guessed what was going on. But he hadn't given it much thought. And now he was trying to hold on to to his temper, trying to understand why Addie had preferred to keep her secret instead of tell him the truth. He was going to be a father and it scared the hell out of him.

  "Why didn't you tell me? What were you afraid of?" he asked, once they were alone in his house. He turned on one light and stood in the middle of the room, waiting for an answer.

  She didn't answer, damn her. She stayed near the door and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked fragile and pale and very, very lovely, but he didn't know what was going on in that head.

  "Afraid I wouldn't believe it was mine?"

  "No." He walked over to her, lifted her by the waist
and deposited her on his narrow bed.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I can't have a conversation with a woman who looks like she's going to run out the door. Is it mine, Addie?"

  "Yes."

  "And when is it due?"

  "Quit saying 'it.' November sixth. The twins came early, though, but twins do that. I had a C-section, so I will—" She stopped, her blue eyes gazing at him. "Look, you have a right to be angry, I guess, but—"

  "You guess? What are you doing, lady? You slept with a guy you met in a bar."

  "The biggest mistake of my life," she said. "But thank you for reminding me. You slept with a woman you met in a bar. And you seemed real familiar with that motel, too, Cal, no matter what you said about putting friends up there when they couldn't drive home."

  "Neither one of us was real smart that night."

  "No. And you don't have to worry about me. Or the baby."

  "I don't." Now that was a laugh. He had done nothing but worry about her since the day he found out she was a widow He'd done a lot more than worry, too. He'd taken her to bed and he'd taken her to the barn, and he'd figured he'd died and gone to heaven each time. And now he felt like a fool of the biggest kind. "What do you want from me, Addie?"

  "Nothing. I'm fine."

  "We'll get married," he heard himself say. "Right away."

  She went still. "Why?"

  "Because that child is going to have my name."

  "No."

  "No?"

  "I'm not looking for a husband," Addie informed him.

  "You damn well need one."

  "Not necessarily, cowboy." She bounced off the bed and left the house, slamming the door behind her. Cal stood in his empty house once again. He had the sinking feeling that he'd just handled everything the wrong way.

  This was all very unfair, Addie decided, walking back to the house. He'd reacted to the news much the way she'd expected, though she'd hoped he'd be happier. In her stupid, hopeful heart, she'd wondered if he would take her in his arms and tell her how much she meant to him.

  Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen anytime soon.

  Addie sat on the porch rather than going inside to face her family. It was a hot night, but there was a pleasant enough breeze. She could sit here for a while and lick her wounds. He wanted to give the baby his name. He wanted marriage.