Harlequin Special Edition November 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: The Maverick's Thanksgiving Baby\A Celebration Christmas\Dr. Daddy's Perfect Christmas (7 page)

“You really have been reading up,” she noted, feeling duly chastised.

“I'm interested,” he said simply.

She was, too, and she'd gone out to buy all of the best-reviewed books when her doctor had confirmed that she was going to have a baby. But they were still in a neat pile on her bedside table because she was usually too tired when she got home at the end of the day to want to crack the cover of a pregnancy guide or child-care manual.

“I'm hungry,” she said, and led him through a set of frosted glass doors and into Lou's Chophouse.

The atmosphere was upscale casual, the decor consisting of glossy wood tables and leather-padded benches, with frosted glass dividers separating the booths and pendant-style lights hanging over the tables. When they were seated, the hostess handed them menus in leather folders, ran through the daily specials and promised that their server would be over momentarily to take their drink order.

Maggie ordered the peppercorn sirloin with basmati rice and steamed broccoli. He opted for the twelve-ounce strip loin with a fully loaded baked potato and seasonal vegetables.

But when her meal was delivered, she found she had no appetite. Mindful of the tiny life in her belly, though, she forced herself to cut into the steak and eat a few bites.

She didn't fool Jesse. He was halfway through his own steak when he said, “You're picking at your food.”

“I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought I was.”

“Is that all it is?”

She stabbed at her broccoli. “No,” she admitted. “But I don't want to talk about it.”

“Have you changed your mind?”

“About what?”

“Keeping the baby.”

“No,” she answered without hesitation. “I'm not sure about a lot of things, but I'm sure about that.”

He exhaled an audible sigh of relief. “You probably know there aren't a lot of lawyers in Rust Creek Falls. In fact, Ben Dalton is it, but word around town is that he's interested in bringing in an associate.”

“I have a job,” she reminded him.

“I'm just presenting you with another option.”

“Except that it's not an option, because I'm not licensed to practice in Montana.”

“You'd have to pass the State Bar,” he acknowledged.

“Have you been reading up on that, too?”

“A little.”

“Then you should know that writing a Bar exam is a little more complicated than going to the store to pick up a quart of milk.”

“Do you think the Montana exam is more difficult than the one you wrote here?”

“No,” she admitted. “But I wrote the California Bar five years ago.”

“And you've forgotten how to study since then?”

One side of her mouth tipped up in response to his teasing. “I don't think so.”

“Then it's something you could at least consider?”

“Yes, it's something I could consider,” she agreed. “But if I did get a job in Rust Creek Falls, what would I do about day care?”

“We have day care in Montana. In fact, the Country Kids Day Care is just a few blocks from Ben Dalton's office.”

“Why are you okay with me putting our baby in day care in Rust Creek Falls but not in LA?”

“Because you wouldn't need day care for twelve hours a day,” he pointed out logically. “Because even if you had to work late, I'd be there to help out, so our child would have more time with both parents.”

“You make it sound so logical.”

“It
is
logical.”

She sighed. “I used to have a plan for my life and confidence that I knew exactly what I was doing. Now...I don't have a clue.”

“So we'll figure it out together,” he said.

“And what if we don't?”

“When you walk into a courtroom, do you worry that you can't handle the case?”

“I never walk into a courtroom unprepared.”

“Exactly.”

“I'm not sure the same rules apply to pregnancy and parenthood.”

“I'm not sure there are any rules for parenthood—more like guidelines.”

“Thanks, Captain Barbossa.”

He grinned, pleased that she'd recognized the movie reference.

Maggie just sighed. “I used to be able to think things through—now my emotions seem to be all over the map, and I don't know if that's just the pregnancy hormones or...”

“Or?” he prompted.

“Or maybe this baby is giving me the excuse I need to make the changes to my life that I've wanted to make for a while.”

“I have an idea for a change,” he said. “You could marry me.”

She shook her head.

“Why not?”

“Because I'm trying to be rational,” she reminded him.

“You're pregnant with my baby, we have good chemistry—which might explain the baby,” he acknowledged, earning a small smile from her. “You like to cook, I like to eat.”

“Wow, your argument is...underwhelming.”

“I'll be faithful, Maggie. I can promise you that.” He knew it wasn't a declaration likely to make a woman swoon, but it was honest.

“I'm not sure that should be enough for either of us,” she said softly.

“I'm not looking to fall in love.”

“Why not?”

“Can we focus on what's relevant here?”

“What do you consider relevant?” she asked.

“The fact that I want to be a husband to you and a father to our baby.” He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “And maybe give that baby a brother or a sister someday.”

“How do you know you want to be a husband to me?” she challenged. “You don't even know me.”

“I know that you're beautiful and smart and warm and compassionate. I know that your family is important to you. You're close to your parents and your brothers and our baby is a real, biological connection to me and will bind us together forever.

“I know you enjoy your work, and I don't think you'd be happy to give up your career. But I also don't think you'll be happy, long-term, in a career that takes everything from you and gives nothing back—as it seems your job at Alliston & Blake is doing.

“The fact that you want to have and keep this baby proves you want to be a mother, and since you don't do anything in half measures, you want to be a good mother. Which means that you need to find a way to balance work outside the home with responsibilities to the child that we're bringing into the world.”

She didn't know if anyone had seen into her heart so clearly, and the realization that he'd done so was a little worrisome. If he could read her thoughts and feelings that easily, it wouldn't take him long to figure out that she had strong feelings for him, and she was afraid he would manipulate those feelings to get what he wanted.

“You missed one thing,” she told him.

“What's that?”

“I was raised by two parents who love one another as much as they love their children, and I always promised myself that if and when I did get married, it would be because I'd found someone that I loved the same way.”

“I'd say the baby you're carrying trumps that idealistic dream.”

Idealistic dream.

The dismissal in those two words cut to the quick. Just when she'd almost been ready to let him persuade her that they could make a marriage work, those two words told her so much more than he'd likely intended.

“She must have really done a number on you,” Maggie mused.

“Who?”

“The woman who made you afraid to risk your heart.”

Chapter Seven

J
esse didn't want to talk about the past but the future—his future with Maggie and their baby.

Except that her insight, as uncomfortable as it made him, was valid. And it forced him to ask himself some hard questions: Why
was
he pushing for marriage? Why was he trying to convince Maggie to move to Rust Creek Falls? How long did he really think an LA transplant would last in a small Montana town? Didn't he learn anything from his painful experience with his ex?

He'd met Shaelyn Everton when he was a student at Montana State University. She didn't really have a major—she was just taking some courses that interested her while she tried to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. Their paths had crossed at a pub on campus—his friend had been hitting on her friend, leaving the two of them to make conversation with one another.

She'd been pretty and sweet and he'd fallen fast and hard. Some of his friends had warned that she didn't want an education just an “MRS” degree, but he didn't care. All that mattered was that they were going to be together.

He'd proposed to her the day of his graduation, and she'd happily accepted. She'd promised that she was excited to go to Rust Creek Falls with him, to spend time with his family and start to plan their wedding.

She'd visited his hometown with him at Christmastime, a few months earlier, but they'd been so busy with family and holiday events, she didn't have much time to experience the town. She admitted to him, after only a few days, that she was feeling a little bit of culture shock.

He didn't understand what she meant—having been born and raised in Rust Creek Falls, he was certain the town had all the amenities anyone could need. And anything that wasn't readily available in town—specialty shops and fancy restaurants—was close enough in Kalispell.

Her frustration had come to a head one night when she decided to make Salisbury steak for dinner. Unfortunately, she'd forgotten to buy mushrooms when she'd gone into Kalispell to get groceries. She went to Crawford's, but they only had canned, and she had a complete meltdown. Jesse tried to reassure her, suggesting that she could make the recipe without the mushrooms—he wasn't a huge fan, anyway. But she'd refused, insisting that it wouldn't be the same.

It hadn't seemed like a big deal to him, but it had been the beginning of the end for Shaelyn. She didn't know what to do with herself in Rust Creek Falls. She hated that his work at the ranch kept him busy for so many hours of each day. She wanted to spend time with him, to linger in bed late in the morning and enjoy long, leisurely lunches. Then she expected him to come in early and spend the evening hours entertaining her. After a few weeks, he talked his sister into giving Shaelyn a job at the store, but his fiancée had studied art history at university and was appalled by the idea of working in retail—especially in a small-town general store that sold cookies, canned goods and fishing gear, all under one roof.

He'd tried to make her happy. Though it got to the point where he almost dreaded coming home at the end of the day, he reminded himself that there had been a reason he'd fallen in love and planned to spend his life with her. So he would come in after working all day, shower off the dirt and sweat and take her into Kalispell to dinner or to see a movie. He wanted her to be happy, but trying to keep her happy was exhausting him. In retrospect, he was relieved it had only taken her three weeks to realize she couldn't stay in Rust Creek Falls.

She'd claimed to love him but, in the end, she hadn't loved him enough to really try to make their relationship work. He'd come in from checking fences one day to find her engagement ring on the table with a note.

Jesse,

I can't do this anymore. I really thought we would be together forever, but I can't stay in this town one more day. If you ever decide you want more than what you've got here, you know where to find me.

Love,

Shaelyn

Three weeks was all she'd lasted before deciding that Rust Creek Falls was too small-town for her. And she'd been from Billings. Billings had a population of 165,000 people—a booming metropolis in comparison to Rust Creek Falls, but an insignificant speck on the map in contrast to the more than three million that lived in Los Angeles.

If Shaelyn had been unhappy in Rust Creek Falls, what made him think that Maggie would feel any differently? Why was he pushing for marriage to another woman who would be completely out of her element in the small Montana town?

Maggie was a successful attorney comfortable with the fast pace and bright lights of the city. She'd spent a few days in Rust Creek Falls—a few days that were an interlude from her ordinary life. In California she could have any kind of cuisine delivered to her door; food options in Rust Creek Falls were limited to the Ace in the Hole, Wings To Go and Daisy's Donuts. LA had concerts, comedy clubs, live theater and multiplexes; the only place to see a movie in Rust Creek Falls was the high school gymnasium, and only there on Friday or Saturday nights.

Of course, people were already talking about how the opening of Maverick Manor—his brother Nate's new resort—could change the atmosphere in Rust Creek Falls. Not everyone was in favor of those changes, but in Thunder Canyon, the opening of their resort a few years ago had brought about big changes and seriously boosted the local economy. It was hoped that Maverick Manor might do the same thing. There would be new shops and eateries, obviously targeting visitors but also benefitting local residents with the expanded availability of goods and services and the creation of new jobs. But those changes wouldn't happen overnight, and even when they did, would they be enough for Maggie? Could a big-city attorney ever be happy in a small town?

Because no matter how many more shops and restaurants moved into the area, Rust Creek Falls was always going to be a small town, and Jesse suspected that asking Maggie to stay would only be setting himself up for another heartache.

Unless he was careful to ensure that his heart didn't get involved.

* * *

Maggie had hoped to postpone the inevitable meeting between her parents and the father of her baby, but as soon as Gavin and Christa learned Jesse was coming to town, they were eager for the introductions. So after dinner, she drove to her parents' Hollywood Hills home, where Christa met them at the door.

After kissing her daughter on the cheek, she offered her hand to their guest. “You must be Jesse.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he confirmed.

And her mother, who rubbed elbows with judges and politicians and movie stars, almost swooned in response to his boyish country charm.

“Please,” she said, “call me Christa.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” he said.

“We're eager to get to know you,” she told him.

“Too eager to wait until tomorrow,” Maggie noted.

Her mother just smiled. “It's a lovely night, so we're having drinks out on the patio, by the pool.”

Jesse followed Maggie through the wide-open French doors that led to the enormous stone deck that spread out to encircle the hot tub and kidney-shaped swimming pool. Flames crackled in the outdoor fireplace, adding warmth and light to the seating area.

Her father had been relaxing on one of the dark wicker sofas with a glass of his favorite scotch in his hand, but he set the glass down and rose to his feet when they stepped out onto the patio.

“Maggie's brought her young man to meet us,” Christa said to her husband.

Maggie winced at the
her
more than the
young man
, as the possessive pronoun suggested a relationship that didn't really exist.

“Jesse Crawford,” he said, offering his hand to her father.

Gavin accepted, probably squeezing Jesse's hand with more force than was necessary—or even polite. She was confident that Jesse could handle anything her father dished out—she was more worried that her baby's father and her own father might find common ground in their belief that an expectant mother should have a husband.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Gavin asked Jesse. “Whiskey? Wine? Beer?”

“I'll have whatever you're having,” Jesse said.

“Maggie?”

“I'll just have a glass of water.”

Her father dispensed the drinks, then resumed his seat beside his wife. He asked Jesse about his education and his employment, his family and friends, and life in Rust Creek Falls. The questioning wasn't dissimilar to what she'd been put through by Jesse's parents, although she liked to think hers were a little more subtle.

Jesse answered the questions with more patience than Maggie had. When her father paused to sip his drink, she finally asked, “Is the interrogation part of the evening finished yet?”

“I'm just making conversation,” Gavin told her.

“Really? Because you've served me steaks that haven't been so thoroughly grilled.”

“Maggie,” Christa chastised.

But her husband chuckled.

“She's always been quick to defend,” he told Jesse. “But if the baby she's carrying turns out to be a girl, she'll undoubtedly be asking the same questions someday.”

“Or I will,” Jesse said.

Gavin nodded. “Or you will.”

“Don't forget you've got a seven-fifteen tee time with the governor's son-in-law in the morning,” Christa said to her husband when he got up to refill his drink.

“
If
it doesn't rain,” he clarified.

“There's no rain in the forecast,” his wife assured him.

“But every time I think there's no rain in the forecast, we get rained out.”

“What are you two up to tomorrow?” Christa asked, turning back to her daughter.

“I'm going to show Jesse some of the local sights,” Maggie responded. “And since we plan to get an early start, we should head out.”

“I know you don't have a spare bedroom in your condo, but you've got a pullout sofa,” her father said pointedly.

“Gavin,” his wife chided.

He ignored her gentle admonishment. “She might be twenty-eight years old and on her way to becoming a mother herself, but she's still my baby girl,” he said.

“Maybe I should move to Montana,” Maggie muttered under her breath.

“If only you really meant that,” Jesse said, not under his breath at all.

* * *

There was a lot to see and do in Los Angeles, and Maggie was happy to play tour guide for Jesse. She took him to Venice Beach, where they skated along the bike path, browsed the shops along the boardwalk, admired the public art walls, detoured around a filming crew and had lunch at a vegetarian café—but only after he made her promise she would never tell any of his friends or family in Montana. He seemed to enjoy spending the time with her, just talking and laughing and getting to know one another. And when they finally got back to her condo at the end of the day, she was sorry to realize the weekend was more than half over.

Less than twenty-four hours after that, she took him back to the airport again. She was glad that he'd come to Los Angeles, that he'd made the effort to see her. Except that she knew it had been an effort, that maintaining a relationship—or trying to establish one—over such a long distance wasn't easy.

And despite the time they'd spent together during the days—and their lovemaking in the nights—they hadn't resolved anything with respect to the baby or their future, and she was afraid they wouldn't anytime soon.

“We're not going to be able to do this every weekend, are we?” he asked when she walked him through the airport to the security checkpoint.

His question confirmed that his thoughts had been following the same path as her own. “Probably not,” she admitted.

“When do you think you'll be able to get back to Rust Creek Falls?”

“I don't know. I've got a lot of stuff going on at work this week—” and she hadn't told him the half of it “—but I'll figure something out.”

“I wish I had more to offer you.”

“What do you mean?”

“My life in Montana is a lot more modest than everything you've got here.”

She lifted a shoulder. “Believe me, the shine of Tinseltown wears off after a while.”

And as much as she'd enjoyed this weekend in the city with Jesse, she couldn't deny there was a part of her that wished she was going back to Montana with him.

* * *

She was still feeling restless and unsettled when she went into work Monday morning. She'd always loved being part of the well-oiled machine that was Alliston & Blake and had thrived in the busy environment. But after her conversation with Brian Nash on Friday, she realized that it really was a machine—and she was just one of hundreds of gears—interchangeable and replaceable.

By early afternoon, she'd reviewed a restructuring proposal, drafted a motion for an injunction and written her letter of resignation—although she hadn't yet decided what, if anything, she was going to do with it.

Needing to stretch her legs, she went into the staff room to get a drink of water.

On her way, she crossed paths with Perry Edler as he was leaving Brian Nash's office.

“Mr. Edler,” she said, offering her hand to the man she'd worked with on numerous occasions in the past.

He shook it automatically.

“I'm sorry I wasn't available to meet with you Friday night.”

His expression was polite but blank, as if he wasn't entirely sure who she was or why he might have been meeting with her.

“I trust that Amanda was able to respond to any concerns you might have had about your new venture.” She was well aware that it was Patricia and not Amanda who had attended the meeting, but she wondered if the COO of Edler Industries was aware.

“Yes,” the older man assured her. “Amanda was most helpful.”

Which confirmed Maggie's suspicion that he had never asked for her by name, that the associates at Alliston & Blake were all one and the same to the clients. So long as the work was done, they didn't care who did it. And that was okay—the head of an international company was obviously more concerned with the answers to his questions than the identity of the person answering them.