A Dad At Last (8 page)

“English, Ford,” Connor urged, trying unsuccess
fully to mask his irritation. “Tell me what's wrong with Chase in English.”

Taking the stethoscope from around his neck and tucking a portion of it into his lab coat pocket, Ford smiled at Connor's impatience. It wasn't anything he wasn't accustomed to.

“It's an inner ear infection, Connor. Very common in kids.” He took out his prescription pad, wrote something then signed it. Ford tore it off and held the paper out to Connor. “Have this filled either here or at your local drugstore, and he should be good as new in about a week.”

Connor stared at the strange, unintelligible markings on the paper, then folded it. “A week? Isn't that a long time for him to suffer?”

Yes, the scales were definitely tipping in the man's favor, Ford thought. “He won't be suffering during that week, Connor.” He tapped the paper Connor held. “That's what the medicine is for. Amoxicillin, one teaspoon, three times a day,” Ford instructed. He looked from Connor to Lacy. They made a rather nice pair. Certainly made a handsome baby between them. “People tell me it gets easier after you've had a few,” he promised.

“Uh-huh,” Connor grunted. He saw no reason to tell the young doctor that he had no intentions of having a few more. That Chase had been a completely, unexpected surprise and that if he hadn't been overcome with grief and a few too many drinks
to anesthetize the pain, the boy would have never happened. It was none of the pediatrician's business.

“Just make sure he takes this three times a day,” Ford repeated to Lacy. “And keep the bottle in the refrigerator.”

Connor wasn't entirely convinced that the doctor was being as thorough as he should. “There's no chance of this being anything else, is there?”

At the door, Ford paused. “Something else? Like what?”

Connor was out of his depth here and he knew it. Still, this was his son. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Well, I've heard the new strains of flu are particularly hard on little kids.”

Ford suppressed a weary sigh. “The flu season is generally in winter, but it never hurts to be vigilant. You can call me any time if he develops other symptoms. But for now, this is just a middle ear infection.”

Ford opened the door and stepped out for a moment. When he returned, he was holding a sterile wrapped syringe in his hand.

Connor had thought the visit over. He eyed the instrument in Ford's hand. “What's that?”

Ford smiled reassuringly. “I'm going to give Chase a shot to get him on his way.” Taking off the wrapper, he held the syringe up, expelling any air.

Connor'd always hated needles. “To what? Pain?”

“No, the medicine acts faster if it's released directly into the bloodstream. This is to lower his fever.” He looked at Lacy. “Hold him very still, please. This is going into the fatty tissue in his leg. It'll hurt less that way.”

Chase howled as the needle went in. Holding him, Lacy winced, swearing she could feel the injection right along with her son. She glanced at Connor to see his reaction and saw him flinch, as well.

Despite her concern and the situation, Lacy felt something warm wrap around her heart.

G
ETTING OFF
the elevator, Connor looked around, scanning the first floor. Like some others of his species, he loathed asking directions.

Chase was beginning to doze off against Lacy's shoulder. She shifted to get a better view of Connor. “What are you looking for?”

“The pharmacy. I want to get this prescription filled as soon as possible and I haven't the vaguest idea where the closest one to the ranch is.”

She had a suspicion that he didn't know where any were in the area, even though he'd been in Austin several months. Connor's approach to life was to assimilate information as he needed it. The one exception was horses. Everything else was left in the shadows.

“Everything else,” she knew, included her, as well, but she'd made her peace with that.

Or was trying to.

“The doctor said it was to the left of the elevator, in the opposite direction of the entrance,” she reminded him softly.

“Right.” He should have remembered that. But
he'd been so concerned about Chase, so worried as he watched the needle sink into his soft flesh that he'd only half heard the pediatrician. It wasn't like him. He usually could remain detached, distant from whatever was happening. But then, a man couldn't be faulted for being somewhat confused, having gone through what he had in the last few months. Discovering that his world, his childhood had been a tissue of lies.

Anyone would be a little off kilter after that, Connor reasoned, at least for a while.

The trouble was he was a lot off kilter and he didn't like it.

He glanced at Chase. “Is he asleep?”

“Looks that way,” she murmured as she walked beside Connor. Lacy couldn't resist pressing a soft kiss to the top of the baby's head. He felt cooler already. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. “Poor little guy's tuckered out.”

Connor nodded, not knowing what to say. Afraid that anything he said might give away his feelings. Instead, he glanced at the piece of paper in his hand. “Hope this doesn't take long.”

Lacy wondered if that meant he had somewhere else to be.

 

L
ESS THAN TEN
minutes later, Chase's medicine was safely tucked into a small white paper bag with the
hospital's logo on the side and they were on their way out.

“Well, that was quick,” Lacy said, one eye on Chase as she followed Connor. Her arms tightened around the baby. She wanted him to get as much uninterrupted sleep as possible.

“Good thing,” Connor mumbled.

Turning the corner, he didn't see the well-dressed woman coming straight at him until it was almost too late. When he did, his hands shot out to keep from knocking her down.

Catching her breath, Megan felt her surprise immediately turn to pleasure as she realized she'd almost walked into her son. If she noticed the self-conscious way Connor dropped his hands to his side, she gave no indication.

“Connor, Lacy, I was just on my way up to see Ford to find out how everything went.” She looked at Chase's sleeping face, and her heart melted.

The little boy looked so much like her other sons had. Like Connor must have at his age. She felt cheated and blessed at the same time. Cheated because she'd missed out on all those years, missed holding him to her heart instead of just keeping thoughts of him there. And blessed because fate had at least been kind enough to bring him back to her after all these years.

She refrained from caressing the sleeping child. Instead, she looked at Connor. “So, how did it go?”

“Fine.” Connor bit off the word.

He was far from comfortable with this unexpected run-in. He was far from comfortable dealing with Megan at all, and it had nothing to do with the woman herself. The trouble was with him. Try as he might, Connor was still having trouble reconciling himself to the fact that the woman he had buried, the woman he had called mother for forty-five years of his life wasn't his mother. At first he thought time would help him come to terms with the situation, but in fact the opposite was true. He was finding it very difficult to accept Megan Maitland as his birth mother.

“The doctor said he has otitis media,” Lacy offered when Connor gave no indication that he was going to elaborate for Megan. “We just picked up some medication for him.” She nodded at the white bag in Connor's hand.

After all these years of association at the hospital, and with two doctors in the family, Megan was well acquainted with a variety of diagnoses. This, she knew, was a very common malady among children.

“Nothing to worry about,” she assured, a soft, maternal smile curving her mouth. “Still, I can remember how afraid I was with Mitchell when he was a baby. I was sure he was going to die a thousand times over. I thought every sniffle was pneumonia, every fever the beginning of meningitis. And when he developed colic I thought the whole world was
going to come crashing to an end.” Megan laughed at the memory of the frightened first-time mother she had been. “But he managed to live through it all, despite my inexperience. And so did I.” She winked at Lacy, sensing a kinship. “You will, too. But if you ever feel like you're at the end of your rope, just call me. That's what I'm here for.” Giving in to impulse, she hugged Lacy gently with one arm, careful not to wake Chase. “Thanks for calling me.” She meant that sincerely.

Lacy looked at her son, relieved that he continued to doze, then raised her eyes to meet Megan's. If she could have picked out her own mother, this would have been the woman she would have chosen. Connor didn't know how lucky he was. “It's nice to have an in.”

Megan was aware that throughout the exchange, Connor was standing to the side, impatiently silent. Greedy for any tidbits she could get, Megan was reluctant to let him leave. She tried to get a few more words out of him. Easy conversations, she knew, were still not visible on the horizon, but she was hoping to at least plant the seeds for a future crop.

“So, Connor, how is everything going otherwise?”

He knew she was only trying to be nice, but even though it made no sense, even though he was angry at Clarise for the deception his life had been enveloped in, there was still a feeling of disloyalty haunt
ing him for acknowledging this woman as his mother. He felt unaccountably lost between two worlds, the one he'd known and had thought he'd belonged in, and the one he suddenly found himself in. Like a wounded dog that withdrew to a dark place in order to get well, he felt himself pulling back from the very people he knew he should be building bridges with. He couldn't explain it, not even to himself, but it was something he needed to try to work out.

“Fine,” he replied.

Megan ignored the monosyllable, attempting to draw him out. “The ranch beginning to shape up? I hear—”

He stopped her before she could offer any sort of help, advice or the name of someone he could seek out. “It's shaping up just fine.”

She knew this was hard for him, and because it was, she pushed her hurt feelings aside. With the patience that motherhood had brought her, Megan was determined to get through to him. “You know, as far as horse stock goes, I could talk to—”

What did it take for her to back off? He had to work this whole thing out for himself. “No need to talk to anyone for me. Things are progressing just fine.”

He was angry and trying to bridle it. Megan knew when it was time to step back. Maybe next time things would go better.

“Well, then, I won't detain you any longer.” She paused to kiss Chase's cheek. Still asleep, the baby fussed slightly. “I know, it's a pain being sick. But you'll be all right soon,” she whispered to the child.

He should be feeling something, seeing his “mother” in a tender moment with his son, Connor thought. But all he felt was confusion. Confusion about Megan, about Chase and about Lacy. Perhaps most of all about Lacy. Damn. What he needed was the peace of a blank mind, at least for a while.

“We have to be going,” Connor told Megan, his voice formal. “Thanks for getting the doctor to see him so fast.”

The words stung, though she knew he hadn't meant them to. They were words that could have been offered to a stranger. “He's my grandson, Connor. There's no need to thank me.”

That just made him feel even more awkward. “Yeah, well, thanks anyway.” Connor tugged on the brim of his Stetson, signaling an end to the exchange.

Turning on the heel of his boot, he walked out quickly, assuming that Lacy and Chase were right behind him. He paused when he came to the hospital's entrance and looked over his shoulder. He swore silently. Lacy was still with Megan.

She gave Connor's mother an apologetic smile, knowing there was nothing she could say to soothe Megan. She squeezed the other woman's hand. “I'll work on him,” she promised.

Before Megan could say anything, Lacy hurried after Connor.

The moment she was through the front door, Connor turned and strode through the lot, leading the way to his car.

He stayed a few steps ahead, wanting to avoid a confrontation. Instinct told him she was going to start picking apart his behavior at any moment.

When he unlocked the passenger side of the car, he could feel Lacy's eyes on him. It was just a matter of time, but he was hoping that she wouldn't say anything until they'd reached the house. Hoping that silence begat silence, he got into his vehicle and waited for her to strap herself in. When she did, he took his foot off the brake and backed out of the spot.

Well, it was obvious he wasn't going to say anything until she was, Lacy thought. Knowing Connor, he probably didn't even realize he'd trampled on Megan's heart with mud-encrusted boots.

“You were a little sharp with her, don't you think?”

Here it came. He could feel resentment beginning to take hold. He turned at the end of the block.

“That's none of your business.”

Lacy had expected nothing less, but it still hurt when she heard the rebuff. “Well, she's Chase's grandmother, and what affects him affects me, so…yes, I'd say it was my business.”

He spared her an annoyed glance, but she pushed
on, surprising herself with her nerve. The old Lacy would have closed her mouth and retreated. The old Lacy wouldn't have even ventured this far. But the old Lacy had felt she had something to lose. This Lacy didn't.

“You know, Connor, I know this isn't easy for you, suddenly being surrounded by people who care about you, what you're into, your plans, your dreams, how you're doing, how you're feeling.” Sarcasm thickened her voice. “Must really be rough, but for the sake of chivalry, I think maybe, just maybe, you could be a shade politer to these people. They don't know they're interfering with your life.”

For a second, he was speechless. No matter how prepared he thought he was for her, Lacy just kept on shocking him. “What the hell crawled into your bonnet and bit you?”

“Nothing.” She raised her chin. “Except maybe never having any of that. Ever.” The world really wasn't fair, was it? She would have given anything to have what he had. And he was turning his back on it because it didn't suit him. The jerk. “Makes me kind of think it's wasted on you.”

He kept his eyes on the road. They were coming to the outskirts of the city. When he spoke, his voice was hard. “Maybe it is.”

They drove in silence for a little while. He'd always liked silence; it was something he could get
lost in. This time it felt like some sort of oppressive burden he was struggling to get out from under.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Though it was unspoken, he could feel her disapproval. Why that should matter, he didn't explore. Its existence irritated him. “So what is it you want me to do?”

Startled, she looked at him. He hadn't said a single word for at least twenty minutes. “About what?”

Damn it, why was she playing coy? He realized he was gripping the wheel and loosened his hold slightly. “About…
them.
”

Lacy sighed. Maybe this was all useless, but she had to try. For Chase's sake as well as the big, dumb lug she was sitting next to.

“I don't want you to
do
anything. I just thought maybe you could be nicer to them. Accept their help when they offer it. You were almost surly when Jake came to install those fixtures in the ceiling for you.”

Annoyance almost got the better of him. He might have known she'd bring that up. “I didn't ask him to.”

Was he really that thickheaded, or was it his heart that suffered from a condition? “No, you didn't. That's the whole point. He did it just the same, even though you didn't ask.” When he didn't say anything, she added, “It's called caring.”

Connor snorted at the idea. If he didn't know any better, he would have said Lacy still believed in fairy tales. At the very least, her approach to life was
hopelessly simpleminded. “How the hell can he really care about me? Jake Maitland never even laid eyes on me until a few months ago.”

This was something time didn't enter into. “I knew I loved Chase the minute I saw him.”

The woman was comparing apples to oranges. Typical. That's what happened when you led with your heart instead of your head. Your thinking got muddled. “That's different. He's your son.”

He was missing the point again, she thought. “He's my blood, and in the end, blood will tell. You and Jake are connected in the most basic of ways. Megan's blood flows through both of you.”

He'd wound up apologizing to Jake that day. The odd thing about it was that Jake seemed to understand the turmoil that had him pushing away his newfound family. Connor supposed he was behaving like an ass. His annoyance gave way to amusement. Glancing at her, he shook his head. “You know, I don't remember you being able to argue the ears off a brass monkey before.”

She caught the glint of a smile on his face, and it felt as if a ray of sunshine had burst inside her. “And I never thought of you as a brass monkey before,” she replied with a grin. “Truce?”