Pregnant In Prosperino (14 page)

And now she needed him.

He leaned back in the chair and thought of how sick Lana had been each morning, and how her energy level had lowered over the past couple of days. She needed him now, and he knew when the babies were born she would need him even more.

When he'd made the bargain with her, he'd believed it would be easy to walk away. He'd never know now if he would have been able to walk away from her if she'd been pregnant with one baby.

He certainly hadn't counted on twins. Neither had she. But the fact that there were two babies negated their original agreement.

Those babies needed a real home, with a father and a mother present. Lana needed a husband, a companion to help with feeding and bathing, changing and rocking the babies. She needed him.

If he walked away now, he would be living up to his father's expectations. Maybe it was time he tried to exceed everyone's expectations, including his own.

Decision made, he stood and walked off the porch. In the light of the silvery moonshine, he hurried across the grass to where the real estate sign stood.
Grabbing it with both hands, he tugged it out of the ground and carried it to the barn. He set it inside, then returned to the porch and looked around one last time.

This ranch, which had been the place of Chance's misery for years, would now be his legacy of love to his children. A surge of emotions welled up inside him.

Tomorrow he'd go to town and order not one, but two of those canopied cribs she'd seen in the store. His heart swelled as he thought of her happiness when she saw the two cribs in the spare room.

Silently, he went into the house, undressed, then slid back in bed beside Lana, who still slept soundly. He closed his eyes, his heart at peace.

For the first time in his life he felt as if he'd made the right decision. He was not going to sell the ranch. He was not going to run away.

He would stay, because Lana needed him.

 

Meredith stood at the guest bedroom window in Rand's town house, staring out at the darkness of the night. Tomorrow. The thought of the day to come held both the promise of incredible joy and the possibility of enormous heartache.

What havoc had Patsy wrought in the life she had stolen? The family that had been so important to Meredith—had Patsy managed to destroy it?

A slight moan broke the silence and Meredith turned away from the window and gazed at Emily, who restlessly slept in the bed nearby.

Although Rand's town home had enough bedrooms for Emily and Meredith to have had their own for the
night, Emily had insisted she wanted to sleep in Meredith's room.

Meredith's heart expanded as she gazed at the young woman with the moonlight shining on her face. Her little Sparrow. Of all the foster children she and Joe had taken in, Emily had been special…so special she and Joe had adopted her.

But Emily wasn't little anymore. Rather she was a beautiful woman carrying a heart full of anguish. Since Meredith's arrival here and after hearing the story about Toby and Snake Eyes Pike, she'd been worried sick about her daughter.

The light in Emily's beautiful blue eyes had been extinguished, as if a piece of her had died along with the hero lawman.

“Patsy, how could you have done something like this?” Meredith whispered softly. Her heart ached for her troubled sister, yet at the same time she raged for all the evil that Patsy had spawned.

Meredith leaned her forehead against the window, the glass cool with the late October air. And why with almost all of her memories returned to her, did she still have blank spaces where Joe was concerned?

Was it possible he wasn't the man who had haunted her when she had positively no memories at all? At that time, she'd dreamed of a man's arms around her, holding her close. She'd felt a sense of deep security, a wave of belonging and had ached to be with that man again.

Had it been Joe that she had dreamed about? Or had those dreams merely been the fantasies of a lonely, unloved woman?

Tomorrow. She shivered, both anxious and afraid to discover what the day would bring.

“W
e need to talk,” Chance said to Lana the next morning when she came into the kitchen.

She sank down at the table, her cheeks instantly warming as she thought of their middle-of-the-night lovemaking. Was that what he wanted to discuss? Did he intend to make up some excuse? Offer some explanation that had nothing to do with love or desire? If he did, she thought her heart would break in two.

“About what?” She hoped he couldn't read any of her thoughts in her expression as she gazed at him.

He sank onto the chair next to hers. “Late last night I went out and took down the For Sale sign. I put it in the barn.”

She stared at him in surprise. “I—I don't understand.”

“I'm not selling.”

Her heart thundered against her ribs and hope spilled shining rays of light through her. She tried to ignore it, not wanting to second-guess his intentions and be disappointed. “Then, what are you going to do?” she asked softly.

His gaze held hers, his eyes as green as sweet pastures, as warm as spring sunshine. “I'm going to renege on our bargain.”

“Renege?” Her head swam as her heartbeat accelerated to what felt like a feverish pace.

“I'm not selling, Lana. I'm not leaving you and the babies.”

The hope that she'd been afraid to release fluttered through her, as rich, as wondrous as the new lives inside her. “But what about your life back in the Midwest? What about your job?”

“My life is here.” He stood and walked over to the window and stared out. “And my work is here.” He turned back to face her. “We'll build this ranch into something magnificent for the twins. We'll make this place the home that it never was for me.”

He walked back to the table and once again sat next to her. Taking her hands in his, his expression was nakedly earnest. “When we made our agreement, we didn't know you'd get pregnant with twins. I can't walk away now. What do you say, Lana? Build a life here with me. You need me, and those babies are going to need me.”

His words should have sent joy winging through her. This was what she had hoped for, what she had prayed would happen. She waited for the joy to suf
fuse her, but it didn't. What did sweep through her was confusion and a strange sense of disappointment.

She broke eye contact with him and instead stared down at the tabletop, trying to discern the emotions that roared through her. “I don't know, Chance. I— I need to think about it. I need a little time.” She looked at him again.

He nodded and released her hands. “I know I sort of sprung this on you out of nowhere and I know it isn't what we initially agreed upon.” He swept a hand through his hair and leaned back in the chair. “But we're good together, aren't we? We could make a good life here together for the kids.”

“Yes, we're good together,” she conceded, a deep pain growing in her heart.

Chance stood once again. “I've got some errands to run in town. Why don't we talk when I get back? That will give you a little time to think.”

She nodded and stood as well and walked with him to the front door. “While you're out, would you pick up some candy for trick-or-treaters?”

“That's right, that's tomorrow, isn't it?”

“I don't know how many children you get out here, but I thought we'd better be prepared,” she said.

“I'll pick some up.” His gaze on her was once again intense, somber. He reached out and touched her cheek with his index finger. “You need me, Lana. Let me be there for you.” With these final words, he turned and left her standing at the door.

Lana watched until his sports car had disappeared from view, then she went into the living room and sank down on the sofa.

Chance was going to stay. He wanted to build a life with her and their children. So, where was her joy? Why wasn't she happy?

She replayed his words over and over again in her mind, and as she did, she recognized the source of her disappointment.

Chance had talked of
her
need for him, and the babies' need, but he hadn't said a word about
his
need for her. He hadn't said a word about loving her.

If she were only carrying one baby, would he be making the same decision? Until the moment they had discovered she was carrying twins, he'd made no indication he intended to stay at the ranch and make a go of their marriage.

His decision had been made through duty and responsibility, not because of love. And as much as she loved him, as much as she desired to build a life with him, she would not remain in this marriage.

In fact, the need to escape suddenly consumed her. If she remained here, when Chance returned he would talk her into staying. She had no strength where he was concerned and it would be far too easy to give in to him.

However, she knew what the consequences would be. Eventually Chance would become resentful. He would feel trapped in a situation he'd professed he didn't want. And as his unhappiness grew, perhaps he would become more like his father…unable to contain his bitterness.

Lana pulled herself up and off the sofa. She'd been a fool to remain here as long as she had. She should
have left when she'd initially suspected she was pregnant.

The thought of leaving now ripped a hole inside her, but she knew she had no other choice. Going into the bedroom, she tried to keep her heart, her mind empty. She couldn't think about what she was doing, couldn't dwell on it or she would lose herself in tears, lose the courage she needed to do the right thing.

It didn't take her long to pack a suitcase with her most immediate needs. She gathered her toiletries and makeup from the bathroom, fighting against the tears that burned her eyes. She worked quickly, unsure how long Chance would be gone and knowing it was imperative that she be gone by the time he returned home.

Before Chance sold the place, she'd make arrangements to get the rest of her things. She was certain that he would sell when he discovered she didn't intend to stay married to him. Although he might initially protest her decision, deep inside she was certain he would be relieved.

Chance was a good man and he'd made the offer to be a real husband to her, a real father to their children because of his moral caliber. But Lana loved him too much to allow him to sacrifice his life for her.

She wrote a brief note and propped it up on the kitchen table, unable to walk away without a word of explanation.

It was time to say goodbye. Past time.

She held in her tears until she had her car packed and walked to the barn for the For Sale sign that
Chance had taken down the night before. As she entered the barn, the tears could no longer be contained.

Half-blinded by blurry tears, she grabbed the sign and carried it back to the front yard. She shoved it into the ground and for a moment leaned against it, overwhelmed by grief.

She allowed herself only a few minutes to weep, then drove away from the ranch.

It was over. Finished.

There was no happily-ever-after for her and Chance. Her prayers had fallen on deaf ears, for she had prayed, not for Chance to stay, but rather for Chance to love her.

As she drove away, Lana refused to look in her rearview mirror. She didn't want a last look at the home where she'd been introduced to passion, where she had dreamed of raising children and putting down roots.

She didn't want a last look at the place that had come to represent the man she loved.

It had been a stupid bargain that they'd made. Her mother had been right, she'd played a game with her heart and she'd lost.

She'd promised him no messy emotions when the time came to part and that was exactly what she would give him. He would never know the depth of her despair, never be allowed to see her overwhelming love for him.

She'd go back to her apartment and build a home there for herself and her two children. And perhaps, if fate were kind, in time she would forget both the boy she had fallen in love with so many years ago
and the man he'd become. The man who had stolen her heart.

 

Chance never sang when he was happy. Unlike his mother, who had either not known or hadn't cared that she was tone-deaf, he knew he couldn't carry a tune. Instead, when he was happy, he whistled.

His whistling filled the car as he drove back toward the ranch. He'd accomplished a lot in the two hours he'd spent in town. He'd spoken with Lester Pierce and pulled his ranch off the market, then he'd gone into the baby store and ordered two of the fancy cribs that Lana had liked.

He'd finally ended up in the local discount store where he bought several bags of candy and watched as a couple of kids tried to decide which Halloween costume to buy.

As he'd watched the kids sort through colorful wigs and witches' hats, he'd realized that in a couple of years, he and Lana would be buying costumes for their own children.

Would they have two girls…two fairy princesses? Or two rough-and-tumble boys? Or perhaps one of each? At some point between the time the doctor had told Chance about the twins and now, Chance had embraced the babies to his heart.

He would not be a father like Sarge. He had nothing but love in his heart for the babies Lana carried, and he knew he could never be the kind of cruel, difficult man that Sarge had been.

For years he'd worried that the apple didn't fall far from the tree, that too many pieces of his father re
sided inside him for him to ever be a loving, caring parent.

Chance's fears had even come out in his dreams, when he'd dreamed of his father telling him that he wasn't dead, but would always live inside Chance's heart and soul.

Now, with the love for his children sweeping through him, filling his heart, Chance knew that somehow his father had been truly laid to rest.

Chance wasn't his father, and he had the memory of his mother's love, her gentle nature and her cheerful laughter inside his heart. He knew he was going to be a wonderful father, and this knowledge filled him with a joy he'd never experienced before.

He pulled into the lane that would take him home, a sense of pride rising up as he saw the house and the outbuildings in the distance. The place looked well-kept, loved.

Funny, how he'd told himself he hated this place, how he'd somehow believed that the house, the barn, the very land itself was tainted with his father's rage.

Those nights of sitting on the front porch with Lana had renewed his love for this place. Watching the sun set each evening, enjoying good conversation, he'd remembered all the hopes and dreams he'd once entertained.

He would never have the family he'd wanted with his father. It was far too late for the two of them to bond, to build something good and worthwhile, but Chance could build those dreams, those hopes with Lana.

The first thing he'd do when he got home was fix
the bathroom door lock and the Sheetrock in the spare bedroom. It was time—past time—to let go of the past. He no longer saw it as fixing his father's messes, but rather as healing his own wounds and getting on with the rest of his life.

Pulling into the driveway, he frowned as he saw the For Sale sign in the yard. How had that gotten back up? Was it possible somebody else from the realty company had been out while he was gone and put a new sign up?

He parked, grabbed his plastic shopping bag of candy and hurried into the house. “Lana?” he called as he stepped through the front door.

The silence that answered him sent a cold rivulet of worry through him. Had something happened? He suddenly realized he hadn't seen her car.

She'd seemed fine when he'd left. Had she started having pains? Had the morning sickness returned with a frightening vengeance?

He raced from the living room into the kitchen and instantly saw the note on the table. His fingers trembled as he picked it up and read:

He read the note twice, as if somehow the words might change in the second reading. But they didn't.
He set the note on the table and went into their bedroom.

The closet door hung open and it was apparent that most of her clothes were gone. She was gone. The dresser top once again held only his things, none of hers. The only item left behind was the candle on her nightstand, its vanilla scent a haunting reminder of their nights spent in mindless passion.

He sank down on the edge of the bed, his head whirling. She'd released him. She'd released him to go back to the life he'd led before her, but the problem was he didn't want to be released.

He couldn't imagine going back to his solitary lifestyle. He didn't want a succession of unfamiliar women, didn't want an endless chain of impersonal motel rooms and strange towns.

When he had made the decision to remain here and be a husband to Lana and a father to their children, it had never entered his mind that she might not want the same thing.

How arrogant he'd been to assume that she might want him in her life. How egotistical to just take for granted that she'd want to remain married to him, might want to build a real and lasting marriage with him.

All she ever wanted was a sperm donor. Sarge's words from one of Chance's nightmares came back to haunt him. You aren't a keeper, boy.

“Stop it,” he murmured aloud, halting the familiar old hurtful refrains. He was finished listening and believing his father's words.

He was not a loser.

He was not worthless.

But at the moment he felt utterly lost.

Lana. His heart cried out her name. How was she going to manage raising two children alone? Why wouldn't she want him to help her, to support her?

He left the bedroom, unable to stand the haunting scent of the candle any longer. He returned to the kitchen and read the note yet again.