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His Special Delivery
Belinda Barnes
On the side of the road, about to give birth, Sara Jamison was in despair–until he stopped by. A vision in a tux, with rough but tender hands, a slow drawl and enough confidence to calm her anxious mind, Sara couldn't do anything but trust Cal Tucker with the most precious thing in her life…So when he offered his home to her and her brand-new daughter, Sara agreed–just till she got back on her feet. But then he also offered his name–and Sara wasn't sure what to do now. Why did this sexy, generous man think he didn't deserve love?And how could she persuade him otherwise…?
The things Sara noticed about Cal Tucker made her uneasy, not to mention the way he made her feel.…
But she’d just had a baby! How could she be having these thoughts about a man so soon?
Granted, Cal had stayed with her through childbirth and afterward, when she’d feared losing her daughter. As much as Sara hated to admit it, she’d leaned on him and he’d stood fast, never wavering.
Cal had this male thing going for him. He was sexy in a no-frills, down-to-earth way. And despite her vow to push him away—her denial that she needed him, or any man—she found herself listening for the sound of his boot heels in the hall.…
“Belinda Barnes is a fresh new voice. Her endearing characters and warm humor will amuse and touch readers from the first page to the last. His Special Delivery is a thoroughly heartwarming read.”—Author Karen Rose Smith
Dear Reader,
This holiday season, as our anniversary year draws to a close, we have much to celebrate. The talented authors who have published—and continue to publish—unforgettable love stories. You, the readers, who have made our twenty-year milestone possible. And this month’s very special offerings.
First stop: BACHELOR GULCH, Sandra Steffen’s popular ongoing miniseries. They’d shared an amazing night together; now a beguiling stranger was back in his life carrying Sky’s Pride and Joy. She’d dreamed Hunter’s Vow would be the marrying kind…until he learned about their child he’d never known existed—don’t miss this keeper by Susan Meier! Carolyn Zane’s BRUBAKER BRIDES are back! Montana’s Feisty Cowgirl thought she could pass as just another male ranch hand, but Montana wouldn’t rest till he knew her secrets…and made this 100% woman completely his!
Donna Clayton’s SINGLE DOCTOR DADS return…STAT. Rachel and the M.D. were office assistant and employer…so why was she imagining herself this widower’s bride and his triplets’ mother? Diana Whitney brings her adorable STORK EXPRESS series from Special Edition into Romance with the delightful story of what happens when Mixing Business…with Baby. And debut author Belinda Barnes tells the charming tale of a jilted groom who finds himself all dressed up…to deliver a pregnant beauty’s baby—don’t miss His Special Delivery!
Thank you for celebrating our 20th anniversary. In 2001 we’ll have even more excitement—the return of ROYALLY WED and Marie Ferrarella’s 100th book, to name a couple!
Happy reading!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor
His Special Delivery
Belinda Barnes
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Dad, for believing in me. You have always been the first hero in my life. To my sister, Brenda, for your constant love and support. To Gail, Kristi, Vicky and the bear who shared our cabin the night this story was conceived. Thanks for always being there.
To Virginia, for reading and proofing and, most of all, for listening. To Kat, Rox and Janet for your encouragement and guidance.
BELINDA BARNES
A romantic at heart, 1999 Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart winner, Belinda Barnes, grew up in Sand Springs, Oklahoma, on the banks of the Arkansas River, where she dreamed of faraway lands, castles and princes. Though Texas is not all that far away, it is there Belinda found her prince. Together in their two-story castle, they have raised two sons, a daughter and a menagerie of pets, including dogs, cats, tropical fish, turtles, hamsters, ferrets. With sons whose interests run the gamut from bull riding to racing cars and motorcycles, Belinda is more than ready for her daughter’s more sedate passions of dancing, singing and acting.
Belinda lives in Elm Mott, Texas, with her husband, her daughter and spoiled cat, Precious. In addition to fiction, she is published in magazine and book-length nonfiction. In her spare time she enjoys clogging, painting, reading, country-and-western music, dancing, fishing, scuba diving, camping and getting together with other writers.
Belinda loves to hear from readers. Write to her at P.O. Box 1165, Elm Mott, Texas 76640.
Dear Reader,
As I sat with my critique partners huddled before a blazing fire in a rustic cabin, it never occurred to me that I’d come up with a viable idea for a book—a book that would eventually go on to win the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Award. Nor did I imagine that same book would be my first sale to Silhouette Romance. But His Special Delivery, conceived during that cold Texas morning, did exactly that.
Writing has always been a passion with me, but I didn’t get serious until several years ago. With a full-time job and an active family, I’ve learned about juggling and sacrifices. My writing time begins at 10:00 p.m. after my daughter goes to bed and continues until 2:00 a.m.—or until my face hits the keyboard. Many times I thought I couldn’t continue to do it, but the call from Silhouette Romance more than justified the loss of sleep and all those bologna sandwiches. I felt like Cinderella, because it was definitely a dream come true.
Breathing life into characters on the page is a challenge I’ve always enjoyed. I want my writing to show the joy of falling in love, with all its trials and tribulations—what I’ve tried to convey in His Special Delivery. Cal and Sara will always occupy a special place in my heart, and I hope they will find a place in your heart, too. As you follow them through the pages of their story, my wish is that the healing balm of their love will touch you, and stay with you long after you read the last page.
So leave the worries of the day behind, and come with me on a journey as I introduce you to Cal Tucker, the first of my heroes to hang your heart on. Enjoy!
Contents
Chapter One (#u55da74e6-a1d5-5ae9-8309-8b03f288c19a)
Chapter Two (#udcceb36f-e6ba-5137-b40d-3f6c3567f896)
Chapter Three (#u95fb3a2c-d99b-5f5b-9bb6-699f6c80415f)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Cal Tucker had gotten as far as the altar, but he had one slight problem. No bride.
The white, lace-covered unity candle stood off to one side, unlit, its future decided by his absent bride’s unexpected change of heart.
He yanked the peach boutonniere from the lapel of his tuxedo and crushed it under his heel as he made the long trek down the aisle past the now-empty church pews. Alone. “Guess she loves me not.”
James Scott, Cal’s business partner, waited beside the front doors. “You know, you didn’t have to stay and face everyone. I could have sent them on their way.”
Though Cal hadn’t wanted to endure the sympathetic looks of his friends and acquaintances, he couldn’t very well run off and leave the chore of explaining this mess to someone else. “It was my wedding, my responsibility.”
His friend pushed away from the wall. “Any idea why Tiffany didn’t show?”
Cal ran his forefinger around the inside of the stiff collar, which for the past hour had felt like a noose. “I finally got around to telling her I didn’t intend to accept Dad’s offer to head up his new megaconglomerate.”
James whistled through his front teeth. “I see where that would tick her off. Tiffany thrives on all that highbrow stuff.”
Cal frowned, wondering how James had become so perceptive when he himself had only just figured it out. “Yeah, but I don’t. When I told her last night, she gave me an ultimatum.”
“Then you knew she might not come?”
“Hell, no. You know Tiff. She’s hot one minute, cold the next.” Cal rubbed the aching muscles at the back of his neck. “Do you think I’d be standing here now if I’d thought she wouldn’t be here?”
“So, what do you plan to do?”
“Do?” He shrugged. “Nothing. She made her choice.” Cal didn’t understand why he hadn’t realized before then how different Tiffany and he were. They’d never wanted the same things. Only it had never mattered. Not to her. Or to him. “It’s over.”
“You sure?” James asked.
The sense of loss Cal expected didn’t come, but the blow to his pride came with the force of a mule’s kick. “Yeah, I’m sure.” Whatever he’d once felt or convinced himself he’d felt for Tiffany was gone. Only now could Cal admit he’d never loved her. But then, she hadn’t loved him either. Not that he’d needed it. In fact, he’d never seen evidence love existed.
It really didn’t matter any longer that Tiffany had dumped him. Besides, he’d had his fill of doing what everybody else wanted him to do. No more. From now on, he’d do what he wanted. He didn’t need anybody, didn’t want anybody.
James gestured toward the front of the church. “Reporters have your folks cornered out by your pickup.”
With his father’s standing as one of Dallas’s finest entrepreneurs and his mother’s reputation as a society matriarch, Cal wasn’t surprised. “They can handle the press. They always have.” And, as usual, his parents had chosen the limelight over him.
“Sneak out the back way. It’s only a few blocks to the Bull Pen. I’ll take your truck and meet you there later.” James grinned. “I’ll even buy you a beer. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a couple of little fillies for the night.”
Cal held up his hands and shook his head. “Hell, no. I don’t want anything to do with another woman. I’m swearing off.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see how long you can hold out when those sweet young things start stuffing their numbers in your pockets.”
“I’m telling you, I’m not interested. All women are trouble—short, tall, blond or brunette,” Cal said. “It doesn’t matter. They’re all bad news.”
James shot Cal a sympathetic look. “You’ll be all right once we get you back in the saddle.”
“I’m okay. Honest. I don’t need a woman.” Wanting to get away from the church, Cal crossed to the minister’s office and slipped through the door leading outside.
“I’ll tell your folks you’ve gone, then I’ll meet you at the Bull Pen,” James said, closing the door with a soft click.
Cal headed toward the sidewalk. Tufts of dead grass caught in a Texas winter’s slumber crunched beneath his feet as he crossed the hard ground. Heavy gray clouds sat low in the Dallas sky, and the scent of snow hung thick in the late-afternoon air.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, slowing at the corner to glance back at the Gothic white stone of the Methodist church.
Cal wondered at his judgment. Had his reasons for wanting to marry Tiffany been misguided? Even though lust and social compatibility only went so far, his parents were certainly proof they could sustain a marriage. And Cal had been willing to settle for that. Only now, even contentment seemed out of his reach.
Determined to ignore the chill of the February breeze and the deep-seated wound to his male pride, Cal started walking.
He’d gone no more than two blocks when the screech of brakes and the squeal of tires brought him up short. A faded brown compact car with a broken headlight jumped the curb and headed toward him. He dived out of the way and hit the concrete hard, rolling as the car slammed to a stop before stalling.
Cal swore and hauled himself to his feet, then swore again when he saw the driver—a woman.
When the pain crested, Sara Jamison peeked through the windshield at the man pushing himself up from the ground. He looked as if he wanted nothing more than to pound some sense into the driver who’d come so close to running him down. Since Sara was the driver in question, she prayed he’d take pity on a pregnant woman in the final stages of labor.
The tuxedo-clad man marched around the front of her car, his dark scowl deepening as he neared the open window. Anger flashed in his cold, gray eyes. “What the—”
Sara flinched. “I’m really, really sorry.”
He pushed away from the car, muttering under his breath. She wished he’d quit frowning at her as if she’d intentionally tried to run him over.
“Do you have any idea—?” He drew a hand over the rigid lines of his face, his frustration evident.
“Look, I said I was—” Another contraction hit. Sara gasped and clutched the steering wheel, unable to finish her apology. After having three false alarms this past week, she’d refused to leave home until certain this was the real thing. Now she regretted waiting so long. A small moan slipped unbidden through her lips before she clamped her mouth shut. She glanced at her watch to note the time passage since the last contraction.
The man leaned down and angled his head to look inside the car at her swollen stomach. “Are you in labor?”
She nodded and noticed the sudden tightening of his stern jaw, as if her condition displeased him. It was obvious he didn’t want to be inconvenienced. Not that she wanted his blasted help.
He plowed his long fingers through his short, black hair and exhaled a breath shot through with frustration. “Wait here. I’ll find a phone and call for an ambulance.”
Sara caught his hand where it rested on the open window. “No. I can’t afford one. Thank you, but I’ll be all right.”
His quicksilver gaze held hers. “You almost ran me down.”
She lifted her chin a notch. “Everybody knows ‘almost’ only counts in horseshoes.”
One corner of his mouth twitched as if he was suppressing a smile, something she couldn’t imagine on his face. “Given the situation and the fact that your driving ranks up there with a natural disaster, I’d say ‘almost’ counts this time.”
She met his gaze, determined to leave. “If my grandmother can go home after working all day in the field, deliver her own baby, and then cook supper, surely I can drive myself to the hospital. Thanks for your concern, but I really have to go now.”
Sara tried to roll up the window, momentarily forgetting it was broken. Another pain crashed over her. Drawing a deep breath, she settled her splayed hands on her stomach.
The stranger yanked open the rusty door and dropped to one knee beside her, then placed his palm between hers.
She gasped, shocked at his action, but the pain threatening to rip her apart demanded her attention.
He watched her, saying nothing. His dark gaze took on a look of understanding. “You’re not driving anywhere.”
“I’ll be fine,” she gasped, failing to suppress the shudder that tore through her. “Just give me a minute.”
She moaned and bit her bottom lip until her contraction eased. Again, she wondered how much time she had left.
He removed his hand and gave her a hard look. “Lady, I’ve had a really bad day. This is not the time to argue.”
Sara didn’t want to be one of those women who screamed and said ugly things during labor. Despite that, she had an urge to shout at the man who acted as if she was responsible for his lousy day. “You can leave. I don’t need your help.”
He clamped his mouth shut, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. “Look, that baby’s in a hurry. You’re not driving.”
Apprehension swept over her. “But I need to get to the hospital.”
“Right,” he said, his irritation evident. “Guess I’ll have to take you.” With that, he lifted her in his arms as if she weighed no more than a puff of smoke.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and noticed a scar on his stubborn chin, which lent a rugged edge to his angular features. Despite his gruffness, the concern she glimpsed in his eyes made her misgivings scatter in the cold breeze.
